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feralgoblinqueen · 2 days

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Silly Goose

Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader

MDNI please and thank you

Warnings: Dirty humor, mentions of masturbation, slightly dark humor if you squint.

A/N: Let me know what you think. All feedback is appreciated since this is the first fic I’ve written and posted for others to read in years.

———

It started when you joined Task Force 141. Price had not considered adding another member to their already reputable team. At least, until your impressive file managed to come across his desk. Most notably the praises of former team and squad mates. You raised the morale of every company you joined as far back as your first deployment. Your previous CO could only sing your praises as Price sat and listened to him over the phone.

It was an easy decision to invite you into the team. It was confirmed to be the right decision a week later when he joined the four of you in the mess. You were in the middle of a story, the whole table captivated.

“So we had spent the last two weeks 40 clicks behind enemy lines. It should have felt like the return to civilization when we rejoined with the company. It didn’t.” Your hands punctuated your words, you were drawing in the attention of even those at surrounding tables.

“By the time we rendezvous with the rest of the company, our supply truck had been hit. Whole company on one meal a day until we could resupply with the rest of the Battalion. I knew my squad had hit its low. Everyone has lost their fight, they weren’t battle ready.” A big, easy smile splayed across your face. Price could feel the build up to the joke as he dug into his food. Him and the rest of the team remained quiet, waiting for what you would say next.

“Soap, what do you think Santa had in her magic rucksack?” You waggled your eyebrows. Their movement already earning a snort from Gaz. Price’s lips quirked up into a smirk.

“Uh… some extra MREs?” Soap was caught off guard by your question but you bounced right off, not drawing attention to his clumsy response.

“Close but no cigar. I’d packed my rucksack full of canned ravioli and porn mags. Nothing quite boosts morale like Chef Boyardee and a combat jack.” The corse words flew out of your mouth. It was evident that you’d served around men for a long time. The humor landing with the group of soldiers. Not only was your table laughing but those listening in around you as well. All except one man.

You had worked out years ago the quickest way to be welcomed by a group was to get them laughing. In school, in bootcamp, and with your newest team. Never making jokes about others or at their expense, that was your number one rule. Well number two rule. The number one rule was don’t eat yellow snow.

You easily joked about your own experiences or shortcomings. Joining the military meant you’d lived a lot of life. Life that was full of good and bad experiences. You made the best of them all and lived to make a joke out of it.

This was the first time in years, however, you’d met someone seemingly unaffected by your charm.

Ghost was stoic and cold. Eyes always watching you behind his balaclava, never showing the slightest hint of amusement. You worked overtime trying to get him to at least chuckle or to see his eyes to crinkle through the holes in his mask. Some sort of sign he at least smiled at your jokes. Any show of humor would do.

It was another meal in the mess hall when you tried again. Soap had mentioned some of the lieutenant’s deadpan and darker jokes. Maybe that was more Ghost’s sense of humor.

“So how are you still single? You’re a laugh a minute and you’re a good lookin lass?” Soap inquired, setting his tray down and taking the seat to your right. Ghost as across from you, shoveling food in where he had raised up his mask.

“Well I think it has to do with my line of work. You know how they say the surest way to a man’s heart is his stomach?” Soap noted the change in your posture. He’d picked up over the past few weeks how you sit up straighter if you were getting ready to go into another joke or funny story.

“Aye, I’ve heard that before.” He replied, a grin already forming on his face.

“Well I’ve found going through the ribcage is a lot faster.” You say pointed a finger gun at Ghost’s chest, as if to drive your point home. Soap sat for a beat before shaking his head.

“That was awful. LT, you been sharing your jokes with her?” He chuckled to himself, returning to the food on his tray.

Once again you stared Ghost down for the slightest tell. You searched his whole body for any sign of a laugh.

Disappointment grew in your gut as he finished his meal and left the table. You huffed, fork moving bits of food around your tray.

What if he just didn’t like you? That didn’t make sense though. Soap was a funny guy and Ghost got along with him just fine. Maybe it was more serious than that. Maybe he didn’t think you were needed on the team. They four of them had been working together for months before you entered the picture. Was it because you were a woman? You’d never had a negative interaction with him. He seemed immune to your banter.

“That face you’re makin’ is scary.” Soap nudged your side. A kind grin softening his features. You shook off your stress, shoving him back enough that his seat scooted.

“Sorry, that’s my default face while I’m waiting to receive more orders from the mothership. Mess hall interferes with the signal.” Humor was how you coped with everything. It’s how you deflected serious conversations. You knew you came off as simple minded and silly but you wouldn’t have risen this high in your career if that’s all there was.

It shouldn’t have been that big of a deal for you. One person not finding you funny shouldn’t eat at you the way Ghost’s reaction, or more so lack there of, did. You dwelled on it more than you were proud of. Some tender part in the deep recesses of your heart hurt to accept that he may simply not like you. That he only tolerated you professionally because his CO wanted you on the team.

As weeks went by the lieutenant’s response hadn’t changed. Any hope you had left that his reaction was just because you were new was dwindling fast. If only you would look for more than just amusement. You focused in on a sign of a singular emotion that you failed to notice all the others. But his team hadn’t missed it.

Captain Price was the first to notice the change in him. Ghost wasn’t one who usually socialized during meals, at least not on base. Since you joined, however, he’d taken more time eating. He joined in on conversations that weren’t just work related. Johnny noticed this and more, having more time to interact with Ghost than the captain.

Ghost’s eyes rarely leave you if you’re nearby. Upon approach he’ll act like he wasn’t watching you every move, usually picking up conversation with whoever he’s with or checking his watch. Soap had teased him for it on multiple occasions but Ghost always plays it off that he’s keeping an eye on how you’re adjusting.

No the team certainly hadn’t missed Simon’s big fat crush on their resident silly goose.

———

You sat on the couch of the AirBnB, watching Ghost talk on the phone with Captain Price. The two of you had been sent to observe a target who was fencing weapons for a terrorist organization. It had been a week and you had managed to find the opportunity to tap his phone calls and laptop. Besides that it was just a bunch of watching who comes and goes from his house across the street.

“Price is calling it. Nobody besides him has came or went from the house all week. We’ve planted our bugs so Lazwell can keep an eye on his digital footprint. There’s not much else for us to do here. We’ll leave at 0700 and no watch tonight.” Ghost announced, relaxing into the other end of the couch.

You nodded, turning your attention back to the TV. The only conversations you’d had the entire mission were work related. The voice of doubt in the back of your mind telling you that Ghost would only dislike you more if you tried the usual shenanigans without the buffer of the others around. The mission had kept you occupied but now that you had the night off that pit of anxiety deep in your gut came seeping back in.

You wanted to ease yourself by making a joke. You worked your bottom lip between your teeth. A normal person would make mundane conversation. Talk about the weather or ask if Ghost wanted to change the channel from the awful 90s sitcom. Anything to lift the awkward silence you felt.

Finally it came bursting out. You’d let your guard down just enough that the old habit slipped through.

“Hey Ghost, what’s red and bad for your teeth?”

You wanted to dig yourself into a hole. Of all the things to say, your brain spits out this joke. You expected silence or for him to tell you to knock it off.

His response was neither.

“I don’t know.” He gave you his full attention, looking up from his phone. Eyes already twinkling with amusement but you were too stressed to even notice. Suddenly the room was ten degrees warmer.

“A brick.” You waited for the silence. For an annoyed huff. You’d have to meet with Price and leave the team. Surely you’d never live this one down. Not when it was just you and Ghost alone.

A rich roar of laughter came from the other end of the couch. So much force behind it that your cushion shook. It didn’t last more than five seconds but you knew you’d remember that sound forever. Simon’s eyes creased so much from how big his grin was that they were almost closed.

You were in awe. You needed to hear it again.

“I thought you didn’t like my jokes.” You whispered, still in shock.

His eyebrows drew up in surprise. “You’re the funniest person I’ve met!”

You mouth open and shut not unlike a fish out of water. Confusion etched into every inch of your body.

“Then fucking laugh! Holy shit I thought you couldn’t stand me!” Relief washed over you like a warm shower after a long day.

Ghost laughed again, its warmth just as surprising this time as the last. You didn’t know when you got to your feet but now you were pacing. A barrage of emotions hit you all at once and you felt they might consume you if you sat still.

A large hand gripped your forearm, stopping you.

“When I’m on base, around those that aren’t my team, I keep up the image of ‘Ghost’. The mask, the stoicism, it’s all part of it.” He explained, turning you to face him.

A small, satisfactory smile crept onto your lips.

“So you’re telling me I just made ‘The Ghost’ laugh at a dumb joke I heard in elementary school?”

Ghost shook his head, hand releasing your wrist. His eyes were suddenly very gentle while he looked at you.

“No, you just made me laugh.” Hands pulled the balaclava over his head as he spoke. You froze, watching in awe. He ran his fingers through his sandy blond hair before looking up at you. “Without the mask I’m just Simon.”

Your mouth acted faster than your brain, per usual. There was no time to stop the words that flew out.

“It’s so not fair that you get to be mysterious AND hot.” You slapped your hands over your mouth.

Simon laughed again. This time his expression in full view for you to see. Your embarrassment lost as you drank in the sight of him. Brown eyes crinkled with amusement and his pink lips grinning easily.

“So you think I’m hot?”

“Shut up, I think I’m working through the stages of shock right now.” Your sarcasm and humor on full autopilot as your brain worked overtime to process all this new information. Another laugh blessed your ears.

“I know how you can shut me up.” Simon smirked, eyes full of mirth as he leaned back into the couch.

“I’m sorry, did you just flirt with me? Let a girl catch her fucking breath for…” You couldn’t finish your sentence. Simon had pulled you down and captured your mouth with his. Your lips moved in time, tongue slipping into his mouth once you’d both relaxed.

When you pulled apart the two of you spent the night talking. Having conversations about everything and anything. And you made him laugh so much his sides hurt. He didn’t mind. It felt good to relax this fully with someone. He loved the way you’d light up as he laughed, wanting to keep that expression on your face.

And he would, as often as he could, for the rest of your lives.

#cod #cod mw2 #modern warfare #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost #ghost cod #simon riley #simon riley x reader #call of duty x reader #cod x you #modern warefare 2 x reader #y/n #reader insert #reader imagine #cod imagine #ghost imagine #simon riley imagine

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the-sage-libriomancer · 7 months

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i try not to overthink the worldbuilding in Scoob and Shag because it's a thin premise that can't withstand much scrutiny (especially stuff relating to Toone), but i did have some thoughts that don't blow up the story's logic, so.

-first of all, the concept of "cartoon characters = actors" is inherently fascinating. especially since a lot of the actors seem to be government workers as well, implying the government used their own staff along with professional actors (like Yoge). what was the criteria? did they just have to look human? did Toone write show premises around whatever "characters" they had available? maybe that would explain some illogical plots and clunky lines in saturday morning cartoons - the actors didn't have much acting experience, and for all we know the writers were entry-level accountants.

-ballyhoo is also fascinating. it's basically a living metaphor for how an audience can influence their media: a toon's ballyhoo is directly empowered by how much love the human population gives them, just like how enough love of a fictional character makes them popular enough to keep appearing in media. it increases their strength (bc they have influence over the world) and extends their lifespan (bc they don't "die" until people stop caring about them), and all the ballyhoos are named after tv/movie terms like Picture in Picture or Jump Cut, implying that using tv/movie screens as a medium influences what sort of abilities they can get.

-the fact that too much ballyhoo causes you to instinctively, uncontrollably break the fourth wall is super fun and super fascinating and (as Bugs demonstrates) super horrifying. too much energy from meta sources causes the confines of your narrative to break down, leaving you in a weird spot in-between your world and a world you can't see.

-i can't stop thinking about The Inspector's backstory. it's just so tragic. born an android, given a literal soulmate shortly after creation, constantly looked down upon for not having a ballyhoo, losing his soulmate to old age, then losing his home to a war caused by the very thing you were devalued for not having. Bugs said that a toon's ballyhoo can extend their lifespan (likely bc a character who's beloved by fans doesn't really die), so the fact that Penny got old and died means she wasn't popular enough with the humans, which makes sense - Inspector Gadget is the iconic one after all. he's the one who everyone loved and remembered, and it was completely useless to him because he didn't have ballyhoo. no wonder he never smiles.

-i just realized that the Inspector was forced to leave Penny's grave behind when he escaped Toone. he can never visit her again :(

-speaking of screen partners, i love thinking about how the dynamics in cartoon series translate into real life and vice versa. it's a chicken and egg question: did certain characters land roles together because they were friends, or did they become friends because they worked together as actors? were Spongebob and Patrick actually buddies? did Felix the Cat work with Mick back in the beginning days of sending broadcasts? what's Scooby's professional opinion on Scrappy-Doo?

-(i wonder if you could justify the short period in Scooby-Doo history where Shaggy and Scooby were the only members of the gang regularly appearing in shows as "the government needed a way to keep the dangerous terrorists busy so they literally Could Not let those two stop appearing in things" asjhshbjahsjahsja)

-i I love that all the commanders are cartoon characters who were so popular/beloved that they seeped into (usamerican) popular culture: Mickey Mouse, Homer Simpson, Bugs Bunny, etc. They were the most powerful because their cartoons became the powerhouses of their respective eras - you can't get more loved than them.

-i wonder if the Simpsons were basically an ageless family back on Toone because they're still popular even after 40+ years, halting their aging. actually, i bet a lot of toons stopped aging after ballyhoo became commonplace. if your lifespan was defined by how loved you were by a fickle human audience, how do you think that affected relationships? it must've been hard if you had a tangible, literally life-affecting gauge of how popular you are according to alien beings you've never met.

-i was thinking about why Kermit is included as an mc when he's a muppet and the other toons are strictly western animation characters. the doylist explanation is that the author hadn't decided to limit the media used (similar to how Mario and Goku appear in early episodes), but i have a watsonian theory. i think Kermit is from the old Muppet Babies saturday morning cartoon, all grown up. he might've been a child actor who stayed with the government even after aging out, possibly explaining why there aren't any other muppets: they left the business and probably didn't escape Toone as a result.

-relatedly: my headcanon is that traditional (i.e. not toon-led) animation IS possible in this universe, and any animated project not usamerican is created that way. so anime is to the toons as a cg character is to humans, and the Goku pic is the equivalent of...i dunno, a photo of Avatarized Jake Sully lol.

-the fact that anime characters apparently didn't exist on Toone is probably for the best. can you imagine how powerful characters like Sasuke and Bakugo would be lmao.

-lastly, i was thinking about the old gods (or whatever they are). i'm pretty sure they're beings who exist behind the fourth wall. when Dee is pulled into the purple one's domain, she at first sees it as a wide open area in space, but then she starts processing it as more of a glass cube, with one huge window screen, large tubes, and wires running through the floating spheres - not unlike being held inside a tv. the purple god even says that staying too long will cause her mind to "shatter under the weight of reality" which...i think discovering you're actually a fictional character in a webcomic would do that to you. so the gods "interfering" is them going against the story's narrative to give the characters a boost. (this might tie into who Bugs is talking to when he/she addresses the camera - it's not technically us, it's the gods behind the wall.)

i have other thoughts but uh. this post is probably long enough.

#scoob and shag #analysis #i just finished rereading the webcomic and i'm obsessed with it again #there's so much going on and so much still untold #the metaness of it all is so much fun to read!#i love not knowing which characters will show up #and how their cartoons will be molded into new backstories #every single one always hits me like a truck #sage speaketh #i hope it updates again. i miss it #edited for your convenience #<- just cleaned up some wording + formatting

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fungiissad · 16 days

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I think there's some kind of homophobic background as to why there always has to be a "twink" in Achilles and Patroclus relationship. I don't see nearly enough content where they're both buff/strong? Twinks are usually seen as the "woman" in thinly veiled homophobic MLM/BL content, and I think that's what goes on with both old and modern Patrochilles content, cause I still see this shit happen. I need more gay content where both of them are buff, ik that's what the bara market is for but like, that's not what I'm going for either in a sense. I'm just tired of people making Achilles (and/or Pat too) a twink. Go off with your interpretation, I can't and won't stop you, I just... Get tired of it I guess.

#WOAH ITS A CONTROVERSIAL OPINION #Before you rb with you yelling at me #i ultimately do not care #i cant exactly stop every single person out there who interprets either Achilles or Patroclus as twinks #i just have a feeling its rooted in homophobia #and/or just... idk #theres something off about it #personally i think teen achilles was pretty feminine but became more masculine/square during the war #while patroclus was small as kids but puberty hit him like a truck immediately #but thats me #and if thats not you then thats fine #i dont pretened to have the ultimate and only right opinion #i just think i want to learn more as to why one of them always consistently has to be a twink #one of them almost always has to be a twink and maybe im reading too hard into it but i have a feeling its rooted in bad faith #patrochilles

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seventh-district · 3 months

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#it is 5 hrs past my bedtime and i am awake listening to Two Hearts by Dermot Kennedy on loop and crying over Rotating Shifts. again.#i couldn’t resist the urge to read the latest chapter any longer but i knew when i did i’d get like this #so Why did i wait for my period to roll around. i have made. a silly decision lmaooo #i’ve complained abt it before but i’m conflicted about how much more sensitive it makes me #my nightmares usually don’t make me cry but oh i was a Wreck this morning #so why i picked tonight to read the fic that always makes me cry is beyond me #i have never met a fic before that had me in such an intense emotional grip #and it’s fucking hilarious bc it’s not that intense of a story!! like yeah there’s been devastating parts but i’m out here having to-#-take a break every single chapter bc i’ll read one line that hits my inner child like a truck and i have to take a minute to recover #but the whiplash this fic gives me is so fucking funny and the range in the storytelling from comedy to tragedy is just.. *scream-cries*#it has my favorite characterization of Sun and Moon that i have ever seen #this chapter wasn’t even that sad i’m just Making myself sad about it #but on another level it also makes me sad in the sense that i don’t think i’ll ever be able to write something that good..#all that i want out of my writing endeavors is to make one (1) person feel as strongly and as much as RS makes me feel #and i don’t know if i can do that. i don’t know if my writing has what it takes bc i can’t even describe exactly what it is #i don’t think it’s a science that can be replicated. things either connect with someone or they don’t #the way Sun goes from worryingly innocent ‘wdym we can’t invite strangers to live with us?’ ‘wdym we can’t adopt an adult that needs help?’#to fucking. tearing an animatronic in half in a fit of protective rage and blocking access to all dating apps to prevent you from-#-finding anyone else bc he’s your Special Friend and he can’t have his Daydream falling for anyone else!! no no!!#it’s not a new concept but i eat it tf up when Sun is actually the one you should fear the most #like no i don’t think he’d hurt Reader but i dread to think of the things he would do For them #the back and forth between childlike innocence and terrifying intelligence possessiveness and physical capability is just mmmmm 100/10 #and don’t even get me started on Moon. or i Will start crying again #he’s like yeah dumbass of course i’m gonna save you every time some POS man tries to **** you. of course i will you fucking crater-head #but i will complain at you about it the Entire way home and then i will steal your fucking toilet paper and pack you a raw egg for lunch #because i hate you 🖤 but Sun loves you and we would both kill for you 🖤 also i drank all of your chocolate milk 🖤 also i hate you :)#anyways i am paraphrasing obviously and dear god i hope no one who actually reads RS sees this bc i do not want my 2am ramblings taken as-#-any kind of Official Thoughtful Analysis of the story ok pls pls pls let me be insane abt my favorite fic without having to be articulate #i just have so many fucking FEELINGS about them. i am unwell.#i’m not even tagging this i’m just hitting post and going to sleep goodnight

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steddiewithachance · 1 year

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"You Should Date My Nephew"

"433-6296". Wayne mouthes to himself. He visualizes the little slip of lined paper that's taped to the wall above their phone at home. 433-6296. He could call. But he wont.

Wayne grunts as he lowers himself to sit on the curb outside the plant. He got off work --he pushes up the sleeve of his jacket to check his watch-- 36 minutes ago. It's 3:36 am and god dammit Eddie how many times did he remind the kid to set his alarm. How many times did Wayne remind Eddie that his truck was in the shop and that he'd need a ride home in the morning. And every single time he'd mention it, Eddie responded "I got it old man! I'll set an alarm" with an exasperated eye roll and would go back to whatever he was doing. Wayne has tried calling the trailer a dozen times already and damn that boy for being such a heavy sleeper.

433-6296. Wayne could probably solve his problem with a single call, but that would be completely inconsiderate and borderline inappropriate, so he wont. A gust of cold November wind hits Wayne unforgivingly in the face and makes his eyes water. He pulls a pack of camels from his chest pocket and with stiff, shaky hands, lights one. 433-6296. He could call or he could walk home. The walk wasn't easy in ideal weather when Wayne was fully rested. Right now it was freezing, Wayne didn't have his good jacket, and he just finished an eight hour shift. 433-6296. Fuck it.

Wayne stands up and hurries toward the phone before he can talk himself out of this. It's insane, and he knows the poor kid barely sleeps as it is. Knows from Eddie that he'll pick up the phone anytime Eddie has a nightmare and drive over to talk him out of the bad dream, keep him company, or fall asleep on the floor of Eddie's bedroom so his nephew doesn't have to go back to sleep alone in a haunted home. 433-6296 Wayne dials and waits with baited breath.

The phone rings a handful of times before a quiet voice greets him on the other side of the line.

"H'llo? Eds?"

"Uh hi Steve. It's Wayne?" Wayne says quietly into the phone. Steve seems to sober immediately.

"Mr. Munson? Is everything okay? Is Eddie okay?"

"Yeah no everythin's fine. I'm sure Eddie's safe and sound at home. Look, I'm real sorry to wake you, kid, and I'm sorry to even be askin' you in the first place. I know it's mighty unfair of me to call at this time but uh- My trucks in the shop and Eddie was supposed to pick me up from work forty minutes ago but I think he mighta slept through his alarm. And it's too far for an old man like me to walk. Was wondering if I might owe you a helluva favor if you could pick me up tonight, son." For a few moments there is silence. Wayne worries he has crossed a line, for a brief moment he fears he might have burnt the most important bridge in Eddie's life. He's immediately regretting waking Steve up for this.

But then he hears the distinct rustling and thump of someone putting on shoes.

"Of course Mr. Munson, I'm leaving now. I'll be there as soon as I can." And Wayne is once again floored by this kid's kindness.

"Steve, thank you. I owe you son. Whatever you need."

"It's no problem! I'll see you soon."

"See you." Wayne mutters in disbelief and hangs up the phone.

And to think... Wayne used to hate Steve. The thing about Steve Harrington is that his name is haunted, in a way. And the thing about Wayne Munson is that he's a stubborn son of a bitch who will hold grudges on Eddie's behalf longer than the kid himself will. There were countless days in high school when instead of shooting through the front door of the trailer after school with a devilish grin and music blasting from his headphones, Eddie would turn the knob slowly and he'd drag himself into the house, giving Wayne a small nod before disappearing into his room quietly. Wayne felt like crying or punching something when Eddie came home in low spirits. He knew how evil the kids at school could be, and he knew the names of all the bad ones. Wayne always gave Eddie 10 minutes of quiet before he'd knock on his door and gently ask if he wanted to talk. It was a routine they had. He'd ask and Eddie would say no. But then like clockwork, Eddie would open up about his day later in the evening usually while they ate dinner and before Wayne left for work. He'd complain about all the kids that made him feel bad: Hagan, Harrington, Perkins, Hargrove, Carver, and so many more.

So imagine Wayne's surprise on March 27, 1986 when he briefly left Eddie's hospital room to get coffee and returned to Steve Harrington, the bully son of Richard and Nicole, sitting next to his nephew's hospital bed. It had been a long week of worrying on Wayne's part, and an emotional 48 hours spent at Eddie's bedside, so Wayne had very little patience for whatever was happening in front of him. In retrospect, Steve Harrington was looking at Eddie... sweet and tenderly, even back then. But in the moment all he could think about was Eddie returning from school with hunched shoulders and his head hung low.

"The hell are you doing here?" Wayne asked using his gruffest and most intimidating voice, arms crossed, standing in the doorway. The way that Steve startled was like nothing like Wayne had ever seen. He jumped a foot into the air and folded into himself.

"Oh! Mr. Munson. I'm sorry I didn't know you were around. Just, uh, didn't want him to be alone in case he woke up." Steve had said rising from his seat. When Wayne didn't budge from the doorway or respond, Steve nervously fiddled with the zipper of his jacket.

"How do you know Eddie?" Wayne asked trying to keep his firm tone.

"From high school sir. But also through a mutual friend. Dustin Henderson? They play DND together. Dustin and I brought him in after we found him like this..." Steve lifted his head again gauging Wayne's still stern expression and sighed. "Look, I'm sorry sir I didn't mean to interrupt anything I'll get out of your hair."

And Wayne wanted to be skeptical of Steve, wanted to accuse him of doing this to Eddie, but the truth is that Steve sounded painfully earnest. And there's no human explanation for the tiny bite marks all over Eddie's body. Wayne stepped out of the doorway and let Steve take a few steps down the hallway before calling out to him.

"Hey, Harrington?" Steve turned around quickly, looking back with a startled expression, maybe surprised that Wayne knew his name at all. "D'ja see what happened? I mean d'ya know anythin about what hurt him?" Wayne asked more softly. Steve looked around the crowded hallway, with nurses buzzing from door to door. Steve shook his head slightly, apologized, and continued down the hallway.

But Steve didn't stay out of his hair for long. The kid was exasperatingly persistent in being around for Eddie. And while Wayne kept a watchful eye on him, he was starting to get the idea that Steve Harrington was not who Wayne thought he was. He cooked for, cleaned after, and tended to Eddie, asking for nothing in return. Often refusing to stay for dinner when Wayne was home, even if he was the one who cooked it, because he didn't want to interrupt family time. If he brought food from out he always brought something for Wayne, and never took the money Wayne tried to push into his hands for it.

"Here, Mr. Munson. I wasn't sure what you wanted from the diner, but Eddie said you're not picky so I brought you a burger and fries." Steve had said that first time, holding out a bag in front of him.

"You brought me food?" Wayne asked perplexed.

"Well yeah, of course. I wouldn't have shown up with dinner for just me and Eddie." Steve set Wayne's bag on the counter when he made no move to take it.

By now Steve knew Wayne and Eddie's order at pretty much every food place in Hawkins and Wayne and Eddie were getting real creative at finding ways to slip money into Steve's wallet.

On top of that, almost every other day, Wayne gets home from work to find a maroon bmw parked outside his place while Steve helps Eddie through bad dreams. So what could Wayne be, besides grateful, for Steve Harrington's slightly confusing devotion to his kid?

He's snapped out of his thoughts when said maroon bmw pulls up in front of him. Steve is wearing a pair of wired glasses and his hair is all ruffled from sleep. Wayne opens the passenger door.

"You were waiting for forty minutes in the cold? Why didn't you call sooner?" Steve asked pushing up his glasses as Wayne closes the door quickly. And well... Wayne doesn't know how to respond to that.

"I- I shouldn'ta had to call you in the first place, Steve. I'm real sorry" Wayne says as Steve pulls the car out of park and starts driving back towards the trailer park. Wayne glances over at Steve waiting for the kid to say something. They sit in heavy silence until Steve breaks it by clearing his throat.

"Just... I know you're probably mad at Eddie but- but don't yell at him. He's barely sleeping so he really just needs the rest. It's not his fault." Steve ends on a whisper.

A tidal wave of different emotions rip through Wayne. Affection for Steve's caring nature, immense gratitude that Eddie has someone like Steve in his life, disbelief that Steve would say something like that after being woken at nearly 4 in the morning. Wayne was sitting and staring at the most selfless kid he'd ever met. Steve fucking Harrington.

"You should date my nephew."

Steves eyes widen and the car swerves.

"Uh- s-sorry- what?" Steve stammers.

"If I could choose someone for him, the best option out there, I'd choose you." Wayne says honestly, and he didn't even know he'd been thinking it until this moment. But it's so true. After so many heartbreaks over truly terrible men that Wayne could never see the appeal of, Eddie deserves someone like Steve. Steve face softens before checking to make sure Wayne was being sincere. Steve cracks a smile and chuckles to himself.

"What, you think I'm jokin'?" Wayne asks defensively.

"No sir! Not at all. It's just Eddie and I have been dating for months already. BUT- but- thank you for saying that! It means so much to me and truly Eddie's the best thing-"

"You- what?" Suddenly Wayne is embarrassed. Blushing. How'd he... how'd he miss that? And well, he did have a few moments where he thought the two of them were awfully close for a pair of young men, at least one of which who was openly queer, but they'd been through a lot together.

"Why did no one tell me?" Wayne asks turning his face away from Steve who is desperately fighting a huge grin and losing.

"We thought you knew. We sleep in the same bed every night."

"You do what now? Thought you were sleepin' on the floor" Wayne knows he sounds like the protective dad of a teenage girl and not the uncle to an adult man, but his world was just turned sideways. Steve laughs at that and adjusts his glasses before stopping at the red traffic light which almost immediately turns green because no one is out at this hour.

"Oh well. Good, I'm glad then." Wayne says after his mind has stopped spinning. "And call me Wayne already, you basically live at my house." He punches Steve lightly in the shoulder.

"Okay." Steve agrees quietly. He pulls into Forest Hills and stops the car in front of the Munson's place. "Mind if I just check to make sure he's okay before I leave? For peace of mind?" Wayne opens the door and steps out.

"Oh so now you're playing coy about sharing a bed? Just sleep here, kid" Wayne closes the door and heads towards the house. Steve jogs a little to catch up. When they open the door, the sound of an obnoxious alarm comes pouring out from the back of the house which concerns both of them. But when Steve hurries to Eddie's room he sees that the idiot had fallen asleep with music blasting in his headphones. Wayne stops the alarm as Steve gently tries to remove the headphones from his ears pausing the tape inside.

Eddie suddenly stirs and blinks up at Wayne and Steve looking down at him.

"'S going on?" He croaks, rubbing his eyes. Wayne and Steve share a look before Wayne chuckles and pats Steve on the back once before thanking him and wishing him a good night on the way out. After the door closes behind Wayne, Eddie looks back up at Steve. "What's going on baby? What happened?"

Steve slips into the bed and scoffs, fondly. He curls around Eddie and pulls him into his chest. Once they've settled, Steve pushes his fingers through Eddie's until they're all intertwined.

"Did you forget something, Bambi? Was there someone you had to pick up from work at 3 in the morning?" Steve whispers into his neck. Suddenly Eddie shoots up and dislodges Steve where he was leaning against him. Steve groans.

"Shit! Shit shit shit shit shit"

"Eddie it's okay c'mere. He's home now, it's all good babe." But Eddie just stares at the wall and pulls a hand through his hair. "No one is mad, just come back here. Let's sleep." And Eddie hesitantly lies back down.

"Did Uncle Wayne have to call you? I'm so fucking sorry Stevie." Eddie asks, sounding embarrassed.

"We had a nice conversation on the way home so it all worked out. You're okay. Sleeeeep."

And right before they both fall asleep, Eddie whispers, "Thanks Stevie, love you."

#steddie ficlet #steve harrington #steve x eddie #steddie #eddie munson #wayne munson #Wayne Munson POV #steve/eddie

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ivysangel · 4 months

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Thinking about the nastiest, filthiest, most depraved sex with Jason. Visually, it's kind of violent, but really, it's not; you just need each other very carnally. There's no salvaging the clothes you were wearing, and the ones you wear over the next few days will have to cover you up enough so you don't get mistaken for the victim of a mauling. It didn't matter, though, didn't matter if you looked like you'd been hit by a truck or were brought to the brink of death and revived because nothing mattered when he was balls deep in your soaking cunt.

Every single time Jason hit that sweet spot deep in you, you felt like you were on the verge of dying and ascending to the great beyond. The edges of your vision go dark as you leave deep bloody scratches anywhere you can reach, refusing to be the only one who looked like the victim of a violent crime when it was over. Your legs shake uncontrollably as he draws another earth-shattering orgasm out of you, making you slip further and further into the light.

You always come back to him, though, the out-of-body experience ending when he bends you into a new position, whispering in your ear how good you are for him. It would happen again, and again, and again until you were sure you were gonna die on him or something, sure that every stroke of his cock was gonna be the one to take you out. Death's cold, clammy hands never touched you though, just Jason's warm ones wiping drool from your mouth, and lightly tapping your cheek. "You still with me?"

#edited this for like twenty minutes #trying to make sure it sounded right n shit #but mannnn i got assignments #so i'm tappin out #calling it a night if u will #enjoy me dipping my toes into smth #a little darker than usual or whatever #gonna reread this in the morning and cringe so baddddd #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd smut #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood smut #jason todd imagine #red hood imagine #jason todd lover

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hearts4renaa · 1 year

Text

NEVER AGAIN.

summary: things the genshin men stop doing after the two of you break up. featuring kaveh, kaeya, alhaitham, diluc, zhongli, and kamisato ayato.

w/c: 0.5k words altogether

a/n: i was listening to cornelia street by taylor swift while writing this

Kaveh stops incorporating your favorite color into his designs, unless absolutely necessary. Every shade, bright or dark, holds memories for him. That shade was the color of your favorite sweater. That one was the color of the scarf tied around your sword hilt. That one was the color of the flowers he’d find for you. He can’t bear to look at the color. One single glimpse leaves the memory of you hanging over him.

Kaeya stops wearing certain jewelry. If you had a particular love for all silver jewelry, best believe you would see all his silver jewelry in the trash. Bracelets, earrings, rings, necklaces. Feeling the jewelry against his skin makes him feel as if he is suffocating. The feeling of the cool metal against his right ring finger makes him think of how he should’ve slipped a ring around your left ring finger instead.

Alhaitham never lets any meal go untouched. Even if he despises the food, he will take at least three spoonfuls. Every time he grabs hold of a utensil, he thinks of how you used to cook for him. And he thinks of how he used to leave you in the kitchen all alone, not ever bothering to taste your meals. Losing you and that privilege hit him like a truck. He swears to treat every meal with the same love the way he should’ve treated yours back then.

Diluc stops eating anything that reminds him of you in general. Your favorite dishes, desserts, drinks. He makes an effort to personally request to the winery staff that they avoid feeding him anything of the such. Even for minimal things, like certain fruits, vegetables, or even spices. If it’s overly present in the dish, Diluc will go out of his way to avoid it. Every flavor on his tongue turns bitter, reminding him of how he lost you.

Zhongli stops using the terms dearest, dear, or anything of the sort. It was his name for you. He will make an effort to actively avoid the word. When talking about something that means a lot to him, he will absolutely use the phrase “special to me” rather than “dear to me”. That topic itself is even a little rough for him to talk about, because nothing meant more to him than you. You were what was dearest to him, and he can only look back on and remember how he was once dearest to you too.

Ayato never steps foot inside your favorite restaurants or stores ever again. If something requires attention, he will simply send Ayaka in his place. If business partners or other important figures are looking to discuss over a meal, he will almost always be the one to choose the place. Every restaurant he chooses has no correlation to you. Even if the other party has a place in mind, and it’s your favorite, he will either reschedule for somewhere else or decline altogether. He hates knowing how he should’ve treated you to every store and every restaurant. He hates knowing that he’ll never get that chance even more.

#genshin x reader #kaveh x reader #alhaitham x reader #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #zhongli x reader #ayato x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin #genshin impact #al haitham x reader #genshin angst

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anchoeritic · 1 year

Note

dbf joel picking u up from a friends instead of ur dad and he makes it worth ur while.. 😊

"you've got to be kidding me." you should've known what you got yourself into by the second ring of your dad's voicemail. the one night you had no ride home, he wouldn't care to pick up his phone. your last resort was the man you refused to look in the eyes, not anymore. you couldn't keep a straight face around him, barely a look. he didn't even show up to your party a few weeks ago. after your pattern of late night hook-ups, you two agreed to cut it off. that night was awhile ago, but he was your last resort. how else were you going to find your way back home from another town? joel.

turning the curve, he stopped the pick-up truck right in front of the curb you were sitting on. "need me to open the door for you, princess, or are you gonna get your ass up yourself?" his window was rolled halfway down but you saw his face through the windshield. "let's get goin' before it's too late." he was still as handsome as ever; scruffy beard, grey hairs, everything. you could feel his gaze stay on you as you walked over and opened his car door, the wind of his ac hitting you first, his strong cologne was immediately after.

you missed him, there was no denying that. "sorry for the short notice, mr.miller—“ he stopped you by giving you a cold stare, fixing his rear mirror in the process. it’s not like he had something against you, right? you sent him an awkward smile, slouching back into the seat. “we’re back to formal greetings now?” his voice came out raspy, “that’s rich.”

gulping, your face went hot from embarrassment, refusing to say a single word in response. “it’s like i didn’t have you moanin’ for me to fuck you.” he scoffs, running a hand through his hair. “you remember those nights, don’t you? ‘cause i sure as hell do.” he was staring directly at you now, leaning over the cup holder with a smirk on his face.

“you think i’d ever forget, joel?” you nodded your head slowly, looking at him innocently. of course, you remembered those nights. you couldn’t ever forget them. when he had you crying while his head was deep between your legs, licking up your slick, or the times you two would sneak to the bathrooms just to have a quickie, away from the family’s eyes. he was hard to forget. “i think about you every night.” “every night?”

now it was your turn to play your cards, leaning closer into him. “every time i touch myself, you’re always the first thing on my mind. of course, i couldn’t forget.” you whisper, barely brushing your lips over his. a tease, that’s what you always were. he shook his head, the smirk on his face only settled in. “you’re in for a treat now, cupcake.. get in the backseat.”

#this is also #kinda long eh #dbf!joel #joel miller #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #the last of us #the last of us smut

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antxlss · 8 months

Text

roadtrip VI

pairing: anakin x reader (modern au)

summary: after your encounter with anakin at the party, you give up your grudge against anakin and give into your temptations.

warnings: SMUT, loss of virginity, no specified form of protection (i don’t condone this irl, duh), small size kink.

words: 1.8k

a/n: guys I know this took forever, but I wanted my first smut fic to be good. this will be the last part to this series, I have enjoyed writing this so, so much. please give me feedback, i love hearing from everyone! ~Max <3

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part V

After your encounter, Anakin quickly dragged you out of the party and into his truck. He only had one drink, so he was in good condition to drive.

The whole way back to your beach house was silent. Anakin's hand rested on your upper thigh. You could cut the sexual tension with a knife. You both couldn't wait to get to the house and tear each other's clothes off, just like you had pined to do for so long.

Once you enter your beach house, you quickly lock the door behind you both.

Anakin takes the lead and pushes you against the wall, as he begins to kiss you aggressively.

He puts his hands all over your body, as you press yourself up against him.

You feel his tongue pressing against yours as the two of you continue to kiss in the living room.

You kiss until you both fall to the ground, as Anakin rips off your shirt while you try to take off his.

You can feel your breath getting heavier as you unintentionally buck your hips into his hard on.

Anakin groans in your ear. "You have no idea what you do to me."

He grinds down on your core and you let out a soft moan.

"Fuck you sound beautiful." He mumbles into your neck.

Anakin suddenly grabs your waist and throws you over his shoulder. "Need to taste you."

You gasp as Anakin walks to the bedroom and gently tosses you in the bed.

Your back hits the soft mattress and Anakin is immediately on top of you.

You begin to feel anxious, as you stare up at him. You don't want to move and you feel completely vulnerable right now.

"I need you." Anakin whispers to you, as he pulls you close to him.

"I've waited so long for this moment and now we're finally here. Are you sure you want this?"

The few cups of beer you had had that night were worn off, so you knew it wasn't the alcohol. Maybe it was the pure desire built up over the 17 years you'd known him. You wanted Anakin more than you could put into words.

You wanted to indulge in the fantasies your father and his mother had always talked about. Getting married, having kids, growing old together. You wanted him. Every. Single. Inch.

"I've never been more sure."

That's all it took for Anakin to slam his lips back onto yours.

You feel the heat of your lust fill your whole body, as Anakin begins to kiss you again.

You feel Anakin's body on top of you, as he slowly slides down your body with his kisses.

Your moans become louder with each second of his lips touching you.

"Oh my god... Anakin." You speak with your voice cracking.

You close your eyes again and you feel Anakin's hand start to slide down your body.

You try to fight the urge to move, as Anakin continues to kiss your neck and shoulders, making his way further down.

He's now eye level with your core. His hands reach the waist band of your pants and he slides your pants down your legs slowly while keeping eye contact with you.

You're left in your underwear and bra. Vulnerable to Anakin. But you feel safe, even though you've never done this before.

Your hands begin to shake, as Anakin stops to look up at you. You feel the tension build as you both stare at each other.

The thought of Anakin seeing you completely naked fills you with both lust and anxiety.

Anakin smiles at you in a smug and teasing way, as his hand runs over your chest.

He speaks to you again. "You look so innocent, but I know how badly you want it."

You just moan in response.

Anakin swiftly unhooks your bra and discards it to the side. Your nipples immediately harden at the sudden cold air.

Anakin lowers his head to your chest and begins to kitten lick your nipples. You hiss at the unfamiliar feeling.

Anakin looks you in the eyes. His hand slides over your legs and he begins to slowly rub as you begin to moan and writhe under him.

He keeps his eye contact with you as he slides down to where his mouth is hovering over your clothed heat.

His hands make their way from your waist down to your hips and he catches your underwear and slides them down your legs and throws them in the floor.

You watch in awe as he grabs your thighs and forces them open looking straight at your glistening cunt.

"Fuck, you're so wet. Is that for me baby?" Anakin mumbles.

You buck your hips up desperately wanting the heat of his mouth on you. You moan in response to his question hoping that will satisfy him.

"I need words Y/N." He bites the inside of your thigh.

You yelp. "Fuck! Yes, all for you Ani."

"That's what I thought." He placed a gentle kiss to your clit.

"I know you e never done this before honey, so I'll be gentle. Tonight is all about you."

Anakin dives down down into your middle and licks a wet strip right through your folds. You shudder at the feeling and grip his dirty blond curls.

Anakin speeds up his licks to the point where he is lapping up all your juices. Your hips were bucking and thrashing into his face.

Anakin tightens his grip on your thighs and holds your hips to the bed. "Gotta stay still f'me pretty girl."

Anakin dives back down and continues his unrelenting pace. He is tongue fucking you at this point as you writhe against the restraints of his arms. Moans where constantly dripping from your lips as you reached your high. You felt the familiar burning sensation build in your lower stomach.

Anakin pulls his head back and your eyes widen at the sudden loss of touch. Before you knew it Anakin was spitting a glob of saliva on your already sticky cunt.

That pushed you over the edge.

As soon as his mouth made contact with your skin again, you felt the warmth spread through your body. Whimpers and pants were steadily coming out of your mouth while Anakin's mouth gently worked you down from your high.

Anakin pulled back. He was panting. His bare chest rising up and falling down. The lower half of his face was glistening with your release. You could've orgasmed again at the sight.

"You okay baby?" Anakin asked breathlessly while rubbing his big, calloused hands up and down my thighs, trying to soothe their trembling.

"More than okay." You whisper.

Sure you have orgasmed before, but it was only by your own hand. That was like something you had never felt before. You wanted more.

"Need you inside me." You whine.

"Are you sure you can take it?" He asks with a cocky smirk.

"You're such a prick." You smirk back

Anakin chuckles in return and begins to pull his pants down his legs to reveal his black boxer briefs. You could see his dick straining against the fabric. You could already tell he was big. He discarded his pants an ripped his boxers down to free his hardened cock. It sprung out and his hand flew to it so he could gently pump up and down his shaft, spreading the precum around to lubricate himself.

He was big.

You'd never had sex before, so you didn't know how this really worked. You weren't even sure it would fit.

Anakin could see the concern on your face. "Don't worry honey, we'll take it slow."

"Will it hurt?" You whimpered.

"It's gonna sting a little, but nothing my good girl can't handle, right?" He reassures you while repositioning himself over you.

You nod your head as you feel the tip of his cock graze over your folds. You shutter at the feeling. You are nervous but you just want more.

Anakin lines himself up and leans down to your ear. "You ready?"

"Mmhm."

With your assurance he slowly pushes himself in. Just as he said, you felt a small stinging sensation as your walls stretched over his cock. Your eyes watered and you whimpered and whined. Your hands wrapped around to Anakin's bare shoulder and gripped on tight as he bottomed out.

"You're doing so good sweetheart, just gonna stay still for a bit and let you adjust." Anakin praise.

"You're so big Ani." You cry in his ear.

You feel his cock twitch at your words and you let out a small moan in response.

After a minute or two of Anakin embracing you and whispering sweet nothings in your ear while you get used to his size, you were finally ready for him to move.

"You can move now."

You feel Anakin's weight shift above you. He lets out a small grunt as a sign that he's gonna start moving. Anakin begins to thrust forward and back in long strong strokes. Your legs tighten around his waist.

"Talk to me baby, tell me how I make you feel with my big cock." Anakin demands.

"Feels... fuck. Mmm... so good Ani." You barely breath out.

You could hardly think, much less talk with Anakin thrusting into you. This was much different than you thought it would feel like. Your mind was fogged with the mixture of pleasure and pain. You were letting our unintentional noises you didn't even know you could make. But you were loving every second of it.

As Anakin gets a rhythm going, your eyes lock, and you can't take your eyes off of each other. You begin to breathe heavy and your moans get louder. Anakin leans down and you begin to lock lips once again. His strong arms wrapped around your body and his long legs firmly dug into the bed.

"Yes! Yes!" You cried out, the pleasure and pain becoming more defined with every moment.

Your legs trembled from the overwhelming sensations as your fingers gripped his fluffy, disheveled hair.

You feel Anakin's arms wrap around you tightly and his kisses become more desperate and his thrusts become sloppy.

Your eyes widen as a wave of euphoria hits over you. Your legs become weak and your body starts to tremble.

"Fuck... 'm cumming!" Is all you could whimper out.

Anakin continues thrusting until you feel his cock twitch and feel a deep groan con from his throat. You feel the warmth of his release spread through you, then he collapses on top of you.

He lies down and nuzzles your neck. He seems tired. He wraps his arms around you and breathes deeply to slow his own breathing.

"You're so good, baby." He murmurs into your neck. "You felt so good."

He kisses your neck and shoulders as he settles in close for a cuddle.

"You're mine, I'm never letting you go." Anakin whispers. "No one else can have you, only me."

He holds you close to him and runs his fingers through your hair. "Mine, mine, mine."

You tangle your limbs with his and drift off to his sweet assurances.

#anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker is hot #anakin x reader #anakin smut #anakin x oc #sw anakin #anakin fanfiction #star wars anakin #anakin star wars #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x you #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker drabble #anakin skywalker angst #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin skywalker smut fiction

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credince--writes · 1 year

Note

Would König ever get rough with "reader"? Like he thinks his size and strength is intimidating enough he doesn't want to be too rough so he's always gentle until they practically beg him to be rougher.

One Would Think

Prompt:

One would think the large man would have reservations about his strength, it is rare he is able to be soft. To be gentle.

König x Fem!Reader (More medic prompt because I am a one-trick pony)

Find all my König shit on AO3

One would think the large man would have reservations about his strength, it is rare he is able to be soft.

To be gentle.

The reservations of his touch- nearly hesitant some nights. Others gripping and grasping, tugging on your flesh as if he constantly questioned if this was real.

It all spiraled from a moment of weakness. Medics weren't supposed to be injured, after all. The transport (of you, as well as some supplies) had been ambushed as you moved through the desert.

You were out in the wilderness for three days.

For three days you clung to the truck's corners- barely slept. The dwindled supplies and caked-on blood and dust holding the seams of you together.

Finally, they had exfiled you.

The radio chatter was confirmed with the sound of trucks approaching, hesitantly popping your head out as if you were a groundhog peeking for its shadow.

König was there, exiting his own truck and stalking toward you before grabbing hold of your shoulder and squeezing.

He wasn't one for much PDA- but you knew what he meant.

You were dog tired, and by the time you'd both crawled out of the shower (him half holding you up, washing your hair, and kissing every inch of skin possible in the small space) you'd both made it into the room.

Your room.

Our room.

You'd managed to escape with just some bruised ribs, you'd laughed dryly at the thought of 'just'. You can't remember how many times you'd said the phrase yourself. But feeling it was entirely different. It wasn't just- but you suppose it just was.

You leaned into König, hands trailing up onto his shoulders and leaning in for a kiss. Soft, slow, capturing the small sound of surprise he'd make as you leaned forward and cupped his cock through his shorts.

He reached for you, then stop.

"You're hurt." He protested, quietly trying not to push. His paws for hands barely hovering over your skin.

"Stop." You replied. "Stop-" You sighed out. "Just for tonight- I... I don't want to feel weak. Don't coddle me, unless I ask."

His head leaned forward, forehead against forehead.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"I want to feel you, but I don't want to be treated like glass- just-" You paused, trying to find the correct words.

"I don't think you are weak, Shatz." He nearly whispered out.

"Then show me."

His hand lowered, grabbing hold of your hip and pulling you closer into him- pressing your tits against his chest. He started moving, walking you back up to the bed and pushing you down against the soft surface.

As your back hit the bed, you suddenly felt your body flipping over- your tummy slapping against the bed and your ribs screaming. Letting out a whine of pain at the unexpected pressure against your injured rips, he leans forward, back draping against you.

"Are you sure?" He asks, once more cautiously dragging his hand down the expanse of your spine.

"Please."

His hand slid down the spine, over the swell of your ass, and a single finger pushed into your cunt without a tease, pumping into it lazily as he spoke into your ear. "When I heard about the ambush I was so worried about you Shatz." He exhaled, the familiar sneer finding its way into his voice and you could visualize perfectly the little twitch of his lip quirking upward. "They made me wait three, fucking, days."

He slipped another finger into your cunt, pumping it in and curling it up against that spot.

All you could do was open your mouth and pant.

"So imagine how I feel walking up to that truck and finding you- injured- covered in dirt and blood?" He questions, pushing his hip against your ass and dragging his clothes cock against it.

"H... How did you feel?" You gasped out, a particularly cruel curl of his fingers as he ground his cock into your back.

"I wanted to kill, Shatz."

There it was.

That voice-

The one you'd only hear with him in the field, maybe once or twice after a particularly bad mission.

The sneer.

The cockiness.

He only ever spoke to you in a calm tone- muted. Sure, you'd catch a faux sneer or a cackling laugh. The glint that shone in his eyes when he could smell fear.

But he never directed it at you.

"But I wanted to take care of my kleiner Arzt, so I took you home."

"Yea." You moaned, leaning your head back and feeling your ear brush against the side of his face.

"So I am taking care of you, am I not?" He pumped his fingers, thumb reaching up and spiraling around your clit.

The feeling of his thumb pushing against the bundle of nerves made your entire body clench- a squelching sound mingling with the whine of pain escaping your throat as your chest tightened.

"Ah, I am taking care of you. Your pussy is so wet..." He fell silent, testing his fingers in and out. Completely pulling them out before plunging them back in. "You like it, no?"

"I like it! König please-"

"I knew you liked it, I can feel your cunt tightening around my fingers." He stated, so matter-o-factly it felt like he was testing you, speaking down to you like you were too dumb to really know what you liked or not.

His fingers left you, and you nearly whined at the loss of him. He must've noticed the confused frown falling on your features, his free hand snaking up around your throat and lifting your body flush against his as he stood back up. Pushing his knees onto the mattress as your bare back became flush with his chest. A finger from your neck curling up and tucking itself into your mouth, pushing down on your tongue and forcing your mouth to hang open.

His hand pulled from your cunt and yanked down the waistband of his shorts, cock springing free in the process as he grabbed it, leading the head to press up against your entrance.

"Show me how badly you want it." He urged, accent thick with lust.

His hand gripped your hip, and you nearly saw white spots in your vision as his hand squeezed around your neck. The pads of his fingers on your hip digging into your skin- harsher than you'd ever felt before.

You rocked, desperately back down onto his cock, shifting your hips back and forth and letting out little moans and groans of effort as his large cock speared into you.

"Is that it?" He questions, the snark dripping from his voice as his hand left your throat and let your body drop forward onto the bed. Your arms reach out to catch yourself but his hand grabs the back of your head and shoves it down into the mattress.

He snaps his hips back and forward once, fully sheathing himself inside your tight heat.

He groans, head leaning down and panting hot breaths against the shell of your ear. "So good for me." He praises. There's a slight tremble to his hands as the hand on your hip detaches, grabbing onto the soft flesh of your sides, pushing up against your breasts, and grabbing hold of your nipples.

"Let me take care of you Shatz, make you feel good." He says so sweetly, rocking his hips back and forth as you acclimate to his size. The wet squelch of your pussy fills the void expanse of sound in the room.

You felt it, the back slide of him easing back. The hesitancy in his voice, trembling in his hands.

Your arm reached back, hooking around the back of his neck as you pushed your back flush against his chest, leaning to the side and capturing his mouth in a kiss.

Tounges meeting and fight against one another, a thick trail of saliva connecting your mouths as you lean back panting for breath.

"König, please." You whine.

"Please, what, Shatz?" He asks, nudging his mouth against your neck as he starts to suck up your neck.

"I can feel you holding back."

He doesn't respond for a moment, as if he was trapped in his thoughts as he continued to rock back and forth slowly.

The shift happens in an instant.

His hand reaches up, wrapping his fingers into your hair, and yanks your head to the side.

Then he bites down on your shoulder before pulling his cock out and pistoning back into you.

You can feel the tremble again, as if his whole body is vibrating with energy as his thrusts become rougher, snapping in and out of you.

The pull of your hair back as he continues to suck on the soft skin of your neck, makes your insides flutter with the combination of sensations.

You choke out a whine when his cock rams against that spot deep within you, your head trying to lean back against him. Chest heaving with the dull throb of pain in your ribs as you try to catch your breath.

"Thought I was going to lose you, Shatz." He speaks, and his voice cracks. His grip was so firm you were sure there would be the handprint remnants of the bruising, desperate grip on your body.

"I can't lose you," he adds to it, hand dropping down and finger circling your clit.

You weren't present in your body, it felt like. It was as if you were on cloud nine, the feeling of his strong grip grounding you to the present. Making it feel so real- letting you know that this was real.

That he was here.

That you were okay.

Your body tenses- constantly rubberbanding from going limp to tense at a moment's notice. The cord pulls tight in your stomach as you try to shy away from his hand on your cunt, the burning build of pleasure becoming too much.

"Cum for me, I know you're close." He growls in your ear.

It'd be rude not to listen when he asks like that.

He follows soon after, the deep grunts with the thrust of his hips.

He pants, leaning forward with his arms caging in around you so he doesn't put any unnecessary weight on your chest.

"Are you ok?" He asks, a mild worry poorly hidden in his tone.

"M'good." You mumble, rolling over and letting out a wince at the groan of your ribs. "Never better." You add.

He reaches forward, pulling you close and holding you to his chest as he pulls one of his shirts over your body. Helping with your arms as you start to become much more aware of how much pain you were in.

"We shouldn't have done that." He says, hands going back to the constantly hovering, never touching.

"I'm the doctor here." You reply, groaning and laying down.

"I don't want to break my doctor." He replies.

You snicker. "Can always get a new one."

He tenses- gaze hardening as he cups your face.

"I never want a new one, mein kleiner Arzt."

#könig x reader #könig x you #mwii #call of duty mw2 #Konig x reader #konig x reader smut #konig imagine #Konig x Reader- Shatz

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xetswan · 10 months

Text

Youngest Shadow- Crash It

One | two | three | four | five | six |

Today was the day of my 6th Volleyball game out of 14. It’s a Home game.

Every single game has been attended by Jacob, Quil and Embry. Sometimes Sam and Billy. Bella made it to about two. Clearly needing to do her own thing I understood. If I didn’t understand a sport I wouldn’t want to go either.

She makes me sit with her at lunch still, I got kind of close with Angela. She’s cool. She also comes to games but that’s to take pictures, helping with the yearbook committee.

Bella and I walk out of the house together. I see my bike is gone and remembered I had to give it to Jacob for maintenance. Since he offered I was getting it done for free.

It’s also raining so I’m kind of glad I don’t have to choice to ride it. Sometimes the rain drops hurt like a bitch. I lift my hood up, walking behind Bella as we go down the steps. “Great.” She mutters under her breath.

Charlie pulls in with her truck. “Dad I can drive us to school myself.” As we get closer to the bottomed step she slips and falls on her ass. Tripping due to not watching where I was going I go forward.

“You okay, Bells? [Name]?” Charlie climbs out of the truck, helping Bella up and then the both help me. I ripped a new pair of jeans, hissing in pain from my hands I wipe it on my sweater that’s not so new. Luckily I didn’t bleed at all. “Ice doesn’t help the uncoordinated.” Bella frowns at her own joke.

“Clearly.” I groan.

“That’s why I got you new tires.” Charlie points to the red truck. “The other ones were nearly bald.”

“You got me new tires. No one’s ever don’t that before.” Both Charlie and I look at her confused. “I mean… nothing.”

He glances at me, not getting it but he heads to his cruiser.

“I won’t make it to dinner or the game. I’m heading down to Mason County. A security guard at the Grisham Mill got killed by some kind of animal.” He explains to us.

“An animal?” Bella asks, confused.

“You’re not in Phoenix anymore, honey. They’ve been hunting it for a week with no luck. Thought I’d lend a hand.” He puts it simply. “Be careful.” We say in unison.

“Always am.”

“And thank you for the tires.”

I’d thought by now they wouldn’t be so awkward with each other but I am very wrong. The tension is so thick it couldn’t even be cut with a knife.

Change of pov

Rain was still hitting hard. Eric and Bella walk together into Biology. She brushes off her coat as he talks. “And yeah, prom committee is a chick thing, but I gotta cover it for the paper anyway and they need a guy to help choose the music. So I need your playlist.” Eric explains but before the girl can respond Mike comes up behind her. “Come on, Arizone. Give it up for the rain.” He shakes his wet baseball cap onto Bella’s head.

“Terrific.” She walks away, ignoring them to get to her seat.

She freezes once she notices Edward. She straightens her posture, striding to the shared table confidently. Dropping her books in front of him, ready to address him but instead he looks up at her and speaks.

“Hello.”

She stops, automatically stunned. “I didn’t have a chance to introduce myself last week. My name is Edward Cullen.”

She’s too shocked to respond, she wasn’t expecting him to talk to her. “You’re Bella.” He stares, not questioning.

“I’m… yes.” She finally sits, feeling stupid.

He abruptly moves to the edge of his seat away from her. She’s baffled to say the least, smelling her hair as if she stinks.

“Onion root tip cells! That’s what’s on your slides. Separate and label them into the phases of mitosis. The first partners to get it right win the golden onion!” Mr. Molina holds up a gold spray painted onion but disappointed by the little to no reaction.

“Come on people, tick tock.”

Everyone gets to work. Edward pushes the microscope towards Bella, still keeping a distance.

“Ladies first.” She grabs it defensively and snaps the first slide in, adjusting the lens. “You’ve been gone.”

“Out of town. Personal reasons.” He was curt like her, short with his answers.

“Prophase.” She says, going to remove the slide. “May I look?” She slides the scope to him, he looks into it. “Prophase.”

“Like I said.”

He writes it down on the work sheet. He takes a deep breath, turning to her. “Enjoying the rain?”

“Seriously? You’re asking me about the weather?” She seems offended. “It appears.”

“No, unlike my sister I don’t like the cold, or the wet. Or the grey. Or the parkas. Or the turtlenecks.”

There was a small smile that played on his lips.

He actually seemed interested in what she had to say. He studies her like her sister did to him days ago. But she can’t tell if he despises her or not. “What?”

He shakes his head and turns to the microscope, switching out the slides. She continues to stare at him, appreciating his evident beauty. His cheekbones to his lips.

“Anaphase.” She snaps out of her daze to go back to giving a dry look.

“May I?” She mocks him for before, looking into the lens.

“Anaphase.”

“Like I said.”

They change the slide.

“If you hate the cold and rain, why move to the wettest place in the continental U.S.?” He quizzes her.

“It’s complicated.” Simple answer, but he’s intrigued so he pushes.

“I think I can keep up.” She looks at him quickly then looking away back at the scope. He seems to be paying attention very intently.

“My mother remarried.” Another simple response.

“Very complex. So you don’t like him.” A statement, he doesn’t question himself.

“Phil is fine. Young for her but nice enough.” She tells. “Interphase.”

At the end of school she’s still holding the golden onion. She bumps into Edward on accident. “Why didn’t you stay with your mom and step dad? Or your sister?” He waits patiently for her to say something, studying her like before.

“Alright, Phil’s a minor league baseball player, so he travels a lot. My mother stayed home with me and [Name] but it made her unhappy. And my sister has always been a daddy’s girl. So I decided to spend time with my father too.” She explains everything. “But now you’re unhappy.” He states himself again.

“No I… I just.” She turns away, embarrassed.

Back to You

At the end of the day I stood beside Angela and Jessica. Since our game was today I don’t see a point in going all the way home just to come back to the school.

I watch my sister head for her truck, shivering. Once she got there she looked back, making little eye contact with me and then staring at the Cullens. More specifically, Edward? I think that’s his name if I’m remembering correctly.

Their eyes met then there was a loud screech only getting louder by the second. A van skids out of control, heading right for my older sister.

I felt frozen for a second, running over there immediately. The van comes to a complete stop after spinning out. Like something forcefully stopped it. I didn’t see anything as it had happened so fast. The van had only hit the back of the truck, leaving a dent that was definitely noticeable to the eye.

After milliseconds everyone went berserk, roaring into screams of trying to get help, calling 911.

Mike and Eric yell if she’s okay, I watched Edward who was once at his Volvo now leaving the scene. Wanting to ask him what happened I shake my head, pushing the two boys out of my way. “Bells, Bella?!” I cried out, falling down to her level, feeling the pain in my knees from earlier but ignoring it. I took her into my arms as she was obviously in shock.

I ended up driving her and the boy who crashed into her, Tyler a ride to the hospital.

I told him to shut up on our way there. Even sitting in the room as they got checked up on I sat there glaring at him.

Minutes later, Charlie rushes in. “Bells, are you alright?“

“I’m fine dad, calm down.” She assures gun but it’s not enough. “I’m so sorry Bella. I tried to stop.” Tyler apologizes.

“It’s okay Tyler.” Bella tells him and I scoff. “It sure as hell is not okay.” Charlie says, I nod agreeing. “Dad it’s not his fault.”

“We nearly lost you.”

“But you didn’t.” She says, I pull her into a hug since Dad is glaring at Tyler like I once was. “You can kiss your license goodbye.” He sternly tells the boy and I watch his body falter.

I notice Dr. Cullen approach us and if I didn’t know anything I would’ve thought he was a movie star. I didn’t pay Trenton to what they were talking about. I focused on his face, observing him as he talked. Just like I did with his foster kids. Then I heard Tyler apologizing once again, since I was closest I closed the curtain getting a fist bump from my dad.

“It would’ve been a lot worse if Edward hadn’t knocked me out of the way.” Bella says ignoring dad and I’s antics.

“Edward? Your boy?” Charlie asks only to not get a response.

Dr. Cullen adverts his eyes, I watch Bella press. I’m guessing she knew something that was making him uncomfortable. “It was amazing he got to me so fast. He was nowhere near me.”

The blonde man smiles.

“As long as you’re safe.”

We leave the treatment area. “I just have to sign some paperwork. You better call your mom.” He points to Bella.

“You told her?! She’s probably freaking out!” He just shrugs and walks off.

She pulls her phone out and I laugh, earning an eye roll. Then we both look down the hall, hearing an argument. “Stay here.” She orders as if I was so much younger than her. She gets a little closer to whatever was happening.

Not meaning to but the curiosity getting the best of me I do the same thing.

“This isn’t about you. It’s about all of us.” It was Rosalie. I raise an eyebrow but Dr. Cullen definitely saw Bella, taking Rosalie inside his office.

I sit for a moment, but I see Bella talking to Edward so I just walk the other way, pulling out my phone as I felt it vibrating.

It’s Jacob calling, shit.

I answered it quickly. I forgot all about my Volleyball game that’s in… 35 minutes.

“Hello?” I spoke to,

“Hey, where are you? Are you okay? I heard something about an accident with you and Bella?” He freaks out, i why shush him trying to calm him down.

“Hey, everything is fine. No damage was done. Bella was apart if it but no scratches, just a bump on the head. I’m sorry I should’ve called.” I told him, hugging my self with my open arm.

“Oh, I’m glad you’re both okay, I’m glad shes okay.” He sighs like he had just been holding in a long breath.

“Yeah, yeah. Everything is good. I’m just going to keep watch on Bella for a little. Could you let my coach know what happened. I’m sure she knows but y’know?”

“Totally understand, I will let her know. Call me later tonight?” He sounded hopeful and I smile to myself.

“Of course, I’ll call around 9.” I say

“Can’t wait…”

“Knock it off.”

I was going to ask what he meant by that but I hear the other guys in the background and I laugh.

I hung up, not seeing Bella come up to me, she grabbed my shoulder causing me to jump and almost drop my phone.

“Who was that?”

“Jacob. He asked if we were okay since he went to my game as usual. Seeing I wasn’t there freaked him out.” I take a deep breath through my nose.

“I completely forgot about that. We can still make it.” She says in a hurried tone but I shake my head.

“Coach wouldn’t let me play anyway. There’s no point.” I laugh, putting a hand on her arm.

“I’m sorry.” She frowns.

“No need, you should call mom though.”

She whines to herself, pulling her phone out again.

Charlie walks out and we go outside. I drove the truck home.

Later that night I call Jacob like I told him I would. He tells me about the game since they stayed due to Quil wanting to.

“It would’ve been a better game with you for sure.” He says and I could hear the smile.

“I know, I’m just so amazing.” I brag, playing with my tongue piercing as I hear his laugh.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have boasted your ego.”

“What ego?” I jokingly say.

I look over ti my clock, seeing the time and it was already 11:30.

I was surprised Charlie hadn’t come and told me to go to bed.

“Ah, we should go to bed.” I start to say, I heard a small thump from Bella’s room upstairs and I stood up carefully strutting towards the door.

“[Name]?” Jacob calls, I snap out of whatever trance I was in. Not hearing anything else from Bella’s room so I go back to my bed.

“Sorry I got distracted. Goodnight, Jake.” My voice was a little raspy from being tired.

“Goodnight.” He ends up hanging up the phone and I lay back in my bed.

Thinking about everything that happened today.

Chapter three, unedited.

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withacapitalp · 3 months

Text

Reasons

I wrote this for the STWG daily prompt today which was "Joyce" and uhhhhh I'm sorry haha thank you for @stevethehairington and @hairstevington for beta and encouragement and generally being the best of the best!

Read it on ao3 here

The thing Steve had always loved most about the Byers home was the clutter.

There wasn’t a single surface that was bare. The tv stand was filled to the bursting with scratched up VHS tapes, the bookshelves crammed with dimestore paperbacks. There were always dishes on the kitchen table, magnets holding up dozens of drawings on the fridge, even the hallway was littered with picture frames. It was a complete contrast to the house he had grown up in, with bare cream colored walls and perfectly immaculate rooms.

It was a mess, and none of the things in the Byers home were worth much, but every item in the home was treasured, important, valued. Everything in their home mattered.

Now there was nothing left in the house. Nothing but boxes and empty air.

Boxes.

And Steve.

And Joyce.

“Where’d Jonathan and the kids go?” Steve asked when the silence had finally grown to be too much, looking around the barren space that used to be the living room.

Joyce had always apologized for how uncomfortable the couch was. Every single time he had ended up on her doorstep late at night, after every midnight mug of hot cocoa, every midnight conversation where Steve finally finally let some of his anxieties slip out, she had led him over to that couch and wrapped him in a hand me down quilt that smelled old and worn and loved and apologized to him about how lumpy the couch was.

Steve had never known what she was talking about. He had never slept anywhere that felt more comfortable.

But the couch was gone now. Probably tucked away in the big box truck outside, or sold at the garage sale they had held last week. Or maybe Joyce had just thrown away like the trash it had always been, finally getting rid of the dead weight of a couch she didn’t really like all that much.

She probably wanted a new couch for their new house. Something better.

“They’re all at the Wheelers. Jonathan snuck out around three in the morning to go stay with Nancy tonight, and all of the kids slept over in the basement,” Joyce explained, a wry little smile falling on her lips as she fondly rolled her eyes at her children’s antics, “One last campaign before we hit the road.”

Steve hummed, acting like this was fresh news to him when he already knew. He was the one that had driven Dustin, Lucas, and Max there. Hell, he had stayed to watch part of the campaign, and to give El and Will one last hug when it was just him and them.

He wasn’t exactly sure why he was playing along, why he was continuing to pretend, but it was easier than just staring at the place where the couch used to live in complete silence. Better than Joyce knowing exactly how little she knew about Steve’s life these days.

“I’ve missed seeing you around,” She tried, creeping just a little bit closer to where he was standing, “We haven’t really talked much since…”

Joyce trailed off but they both knew what she was talking about.

Since the realtor's sign had appeared at the end of the Byers driveway.

Since Joyce had finally had to admit that she was taking Jonathan, Will, and El away.

Since their big fight.

“I’ve been busy,” Steve said shortly, turning away from the living room and towards the kitchen, hoping that would take the spike out of his heart.

No, now the pain was worse, because the kitchen table was gone too, whisked away like it had never existed in the first place. Like Joyce had never sat him down there and patched him up after Billy’s fight, both of their eyes drooping with exhaustion but her fingers still sure and steady. Like Steve had never leaned against it, trying to understand his homework while Joyce did her best to explain why the color of curtains in a story mattered. Like there had never been breakfasts, or dinners, or midnight cups of hot chocolate that were only ever for the two of them.

Like Steve had never had a place here at all.

“What do you need from me? You said you needed something,” Steve asked in a rush, turning away from the kitchen as nausea began to bubble over in his stomach. He wanted to run, to break free, to escape Joyce and the house and all of the feelings that came along with it. He just wanted to give her whatever last thing she wanted to take and get away before too much of him broke.

“I did. I mean is there something else you’re doing today?” Joyce asked, startled by Steve’s sudden shift, “I thought you might want to be here when-”

“Robin and I are going to an interview,” Steve said, interrupting her in a flash. He definitely did not want to be here when they left, and he did not want to be here to say goodbye. He had already done that. He had already said his piece to Jonathan and Will and El.

Steve had nothing left to give to Joyce.

So why was he here? What could she want from him?

“It’s a big interview for a job for both of us.” He continued, laying it on thick when they both knew how thin the excuse really was. He and Robin could have done this any day, at any time. Now that the mall was gone, they had their pick of the litter for shitty jobs in town.

But Steve had purposefully asked Robin to plan the interview for today. He had done it the second Jonathan had told him their moving date. And Robin, saint that she was, had done it without asking why.

He made his bed, just like Joyce had made hers, and now they both had to lie in it.

“That’s…that’s great,” Joyce said, crossing her arms over her chest, her fingers twitching like she wanted to go for a cigarette.

“Besides it doesn’t look like you need me,” Steve said, unable to help himself. He looked around, a bitter smile on his lips, “You’ve got it pretty well handled.”

“Steve, honey…”

“Don’t,” He said immediately, stepping back when she tried to come forward to console him. That wasn’t her job anymore, it had never been her job in the first place, and Steve wasn’t going to fall for it again.

He was stupid, but he learned. Eventually, he learned.

“You already know what I think, and I don’t want to argue.” He said woodenly, the words coming out short and full of static.

He didn’t want to argue again. Not like last time.

Steve and Joyce had at least waited until Jonathan and Nancy had ushered all of the kids out of the house before exploding, but once it was just the two of them, it had been a supernova. Steve could barely remember what they had said, but he knew it was bad. That he had claimed she never cared about him at all, and she had told him that he wasn’t her responsibility.

Steve knew she had called him an entitled brat at some point.

Steve knew that he had called her a selfish bitch too.

And he had no way of knowing if Joyce actually thought he was an entitled brat, but he didn’t want to hear it. Not again. It had been hard enough to forget the way it made him feel the first time.

“It’s not an argument.” Joyce said softly, her voice as fragile as glass as she slowly lowered her hand down from where it had been reaching out to bring him into a familiar, warm, hug, “I just need you to know that it’s over now. I don’t want you looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life, trying to find monsters that aren’t there.”

“Do you really believe that?” Steve asked, finally looking Joyce in the eye, “Really?”

“Yes,” She said immediately. Steve could see it in her eyes, in her voice, in the way she held herself.

She did believe it. Joyce really thought it was over. Or, at the very least, she had made herself believe that she believed it.

“Then stay,” Steve whispered, loathing himself for saying it. He had promised himself he would never again beg for someone not to leave, but now he had done it twice in just a month. Twice. Because the first time apparently hadn’t been humiliating enough.

But Steve’s hope had always been more powerful than his shame, and he couldn’t help but pray that she would listen this time. Joyce would see what leaving was doing to all of them and change her mind. It didn’t matter that the house had already been sold and the truck was already stuffed to the bursting with their belongings, it could all be undone.

Steve would carry it all back in himself, even. The couch, the kitchen table, the hand me down quilt, everything that had made this house the first place he had actually felt at home.

She could undo it all. She could put their lives back together, back to the way they had been before, and Steve wouldn’t have to think about it ever again. He wouldn’t have to agonize over how Will and El would adjust to high school without the rest of their friends, or worry about Jonathan being alone in his senior year. He wouldn’t have to think about his own empty house and the bare cream walls that hated him just for existing.

He wouldn’t have to wonder why he wasn’t enough to care about. Why everyone eventually always left him.

“If it’s gone, then there’s no reason to leave,” Steve muttered, his eyes burning as he turned them downward to the floor between them, feeling like he was eight instead of eighteen. A child instead of the adult they both knew him to be.

An adult. Soon to be the last adult left in Hawkins that knew about the Upside Down. The last adult the rest of them had to rely on.

“There’s a thousand reasons,” Joyce sighed, pulling out her most beloved weapon, “And I have to protect my kids,”

Her kids. Her kids. Not her boys anymore, now her kids, because of El.

But what about Steve’s kids? What about Max and Dustin and Lucas and Mike and Erica? How was he alone supposed to protect them when the monsters came?

What about Nancy? What about Robin? They were older, but they were still kids, weren’t they? They still needed someone to be the adult.

And a quiet, almost silent part of him, couldn’t help asking

What about me?

“From what? If it’s really over, then what are you protecting them from?” Steve asked, a question he had already pressed her to answer in their last argument.

Joyce didn’t have an answer, because they both knew the truth. This wasn’t about the kids. Not Jonathan. Not Will. Not El.

It was about Joyce. What she wanted, what she felt like she had to protect herself from.

And the worst part was Steve understood. He got why she had to leave, why she couldn’t bear to stay here any longer than she had to, but what he couldn’t understand, what he would never understand, was the need to hide behind a shadow.

“You don’t have to say the truth, but, please, don’t tell me a lie,” Steve said quietly, Joyce sucking in a sharp breath as he carefully threw her own words back in her face.

She had said it to him dozens of times over the last year, and dozens of times he had caved and told her the truth.

But Joyce was not Steve.

“Steve, it's too late to go back on this.” Joyce said firmly, as if her tone would be enough to spontaneously change Steve’s mind. He scoffed, shaking his head and turning away from her to stare out the front window. He welded his lips together, planning to keep his mouth shut and ice her out until Joyce finally got annoyed enough to cut him loose.

It wouldn’t take long.

It had only taken her six weeks to pack up their whole lives and completely tear apart Steve’s.

“I want you to come with us.”

“What?” Steve said, the shock of Joyce’s words enough to make him speak without meaning to.

“That’s why I wanted you to come here before everyone else,” Joyce said, trying to walk towards Steve again. This time he was too startled to stop her and she entered into his space, a soft smile on her face. The same smile she used to give him when she would push his hair away from his face at night, and tell him that he didn’t need to stay awake.

That she would be there, and nothing was going to get between her and her boys.

She had always said it, and they had always both known that she meant more than just Jonathan and Will.

“I wanted to ask you to come with us,” Joyce repeated, laying a soft hand on his arm.

“I don’t understand,” Steve said helplessly, his heart starting to race, the bare walls beginning to close in.

“The house we bought has a little condo next to it that’s free, and I’m sure that Doctor Owens would be able to get it put in your name the way he got mine,” Joyce explained, a plan laid out neatly, too neatly, “There’s lots of jobs out in Lenora, or you could even go to the community college there. Take some classes while you figure out what you want to do?”

This was not a spur of the moment offer. Joyce had to have thought about it before this morning. More than once.

“You want me to move to Lenora with you guys?” Steve heard himself ask, a spring blossom blooming in his chest without his permission. A little seed of hope that had no reason to exist at all.

Joyce nodded, her smile growing, and for a second Steve let himself think about it. Truly and honestly think about it.

He let himself imagine a world where he didn’t go to his interview with Robin this afternoon, and instead stayed here. Packed up the rest of the boxes, hopped in the van with Joyce, and went out to California. Where there was never any snow to shovel, no Mother and Father to disappoint, no dead end job to hate.

No monsters waiting to jump out of the shadows.

A life that was only about what he wanted, what Steve thought would be best for him. A life that came with a family that wanted him.

“It’s over and done and nothing is holding you here anymore,” Joyce pressed, looking around the empty house, “There’s no reason for you to stay.”

And the dream was gone.

Crushed into bits, shattered like a plate against a skull.

Steve had reasons, seven of them. Seven people. Seven people who had gone through hell three times for a town that didn’t care and didn’t notice. Seven people who

Seven people who deserved someone to protect them. Someone who would put them first.

Steve had never been enough of a reason for anyone to stay, never been enough to put first. Not enough for his parents, not enough for Nancy, and now not enough for Joyce.

But he would never let his kids think the same about themselves.

“No, there’s no reason for you to stay,” Steve spat out, hating how bitter he sounded, but hating even more that he had let himself fall for the same trap again. Somewhere along the way he had let those walls down, let another person in, and let her put herself where she didn’t belong.

That was the truth wasn’t it? They both knew Joyce didn’t fit where they had put her. She was never going to be his mother, and Steve had never fit into her life, but he had played pretend anyway. Ignored all the signs, ignored all the little whispers in his head that told him he was getting too close, trusting too much. He had let her brush his hair, and help him with his homework, and say the words her boys like she meant to include him.

And now Joyce was just reminding him exactly how much he meant in the grand scheme of things.

And, really, Steve only had himself to blame for the way his heart was starting to break into tiny impossible to put back together pieces. His mistake. His stupidity.

He just never fucking learned.

“At least there no reason to stay that actually ever mattered to you,” He added with a laugh that did not sound at all funny, walking out the door before he could hear another one of her lies.

#Joyce byers #Steve harrington #hurt no comfort #stranger things #st #st drabble #st3 #post s 3 #yeah this one hurts #Steve has so many issues #stwgdailyprompt

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acourtofswiftiesandshadowdaddies · 4 months

Note

Can you do prompt #2 of the angst list? With Azriel. Maybe reader (his mate) is tired of everything cause she see him with Elaine.

Opposite

Part 1 | Part 2

Azriel x Reader, Cassian x Best friend!reader, Eris x sister!reader

Warnings: Angst, swearing, cheating, elain slander

Summary: Azriel has started to hang out more with a certain Archeron sister.

Prompts: "Just let me go. Please, I want to leave.”

a/n: the first draft got deleted 😭go stream opposite by sabrina carpenter 😝

My mate, my husband, my love doesn't love me anymore. It's so painfully obvious that Elain is in love with him the way she clings to him like a leech. At first I thought it was one sided. But as the days go on, it's as if Azriel returns her feelings.

I wanted him to help her, it would help get his mind of other things but how I regret that.

Why does he love her? Why am I not enough?

Elain is beautiful, a kind of beautiful I could never be. Her pale skin a contrast to my tanned skin, she was slender while I was toned. Bright blue eyes to my muddy brown eyes. Soft fingers to my calloused hands.

I compared myself to her every single day, I tried becoming like her but what was the point, he doesn't even notice me anymore.

Their interactions cut through me like a knife. The way he smiles around her. I made him smile like that first. Why does he look so happy with her?

I tried everything, making his favourite food, waiting for him. But of course he didn't care, I still had hope though. Because he still kissed me goodnight, even though he smelt like her. He still told me I love you even though he stayed at hers the whole day. I miss my Azriel.

I had gotten closer to Nesta and Feyre, both of them unknowingly distracting me. I looked forward to the days I painted with Feyre or when I read a book with Nesta.

Finally reaching me and Azriel's shared apartment, I face palmed myself when I realised that I had forgotten the book Nesta recommended at River House. Hurrying I went back to the house. I opened the door and sighed in relief when I saw the book sitting on the table. Grabbing it, I'm about to leave when I hear giggles.

It couldn't be.

I walked to the garden. Yes it could. I gasped when I saw him kissing her. The pain it felt like a thousand daggers being stabbed in me. My heart ached at the sight in front of me.

"You look beautiful my love," Azriel said as he kissed my hand. I giggled.

Was it all a lie? When he said I'm beautiful was he lying to me?

"That's a really pretty picture, Azriel," Elain says. Jealousy hits me like a truck when I see he's drawing her.

He always drew me not Elain.

Azriel smiled to Elain while he placed a flower in her hair.

She looks nothing like me so why does he look so happy?

My thoughts run wild as I race out of the River House and to Madja's office. Knocking on the door, I open it and gasp as the pain becomes too much to bear, my heart feels as if it's being ripped out of my chest and my knees crumple under me. "He cheated on me,". With that black dots fill my vision and I collapse on the floor. I can hear frantic voices faintly in the back of my head.

There's a dull ache in my heart, I can feel pressure on my hand and a soft hum of chatter around me. My eyes flutter open, and I wince as the bright light floods my vision. I gaze around the room my eyes narrowing when I land on Elain and Azriel, "Get out," I whisper.

They both gape at me in shock. "I said 'Get out'" I say louder, my voice sore from crying.

"What, why?" Azriel stares at me dumbfounded. "Don't play dumb with me Azriel, I saw you kissing," I say sharply.

"My love it was a-" I cut off his stupid excuse, "Shut up Azriel, we're over get out," I close my eyes, in case I start crying again.

"Elain, do you need a special fucking invitation?" Cassian bites out. I hear a pair of footsteps scurry out of the room.

"I think I need some time," I breathe out. The pressure on my hand leaves and I open my eyes. "Cass can you stay? please" I say my lip wobbling. I see Nesta give a small nod to Cassian and her and Feyre hug me.

I reprimand myself when tears slip out but only freely escape when the door shuts.

"I went back for my book and saw them," I explain, Cassian pulls me into his chest and lets me cry.

I don't know how long I cry in that hospital bed with Cassian by my side. But after a while I finally have the courage to say "I'm gonna go visit my brothers for a while,". He only nods in understanding.

After a restless sleep I'm discharged by Madja, and I head to me and Azriel's apartment. Seeing him asleep on the couch, I tiptoe to our bedroom grab my stuff and just as I'm about to leave the house, Azriel is behind me and he says "So you're leaving just like that?" he grabs my wrist so I can't open the door.

"Just let me go. Please let me leave," I breathe out, my heart breaking.

a/n: lemme know if u want the part two, cos i dont like angst without happy ending 😭

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half-bakedboy · 20 days

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one hell of a story

For @bucktommyweek prompt: alternate first meeting | 1.4k | Teen

Tommy's not usually one to fly for anyone but LAFD and himself, but the Skywitness News Eight helicopter desperately needed a pilot. He owed his old army buddy, Trent, a favor, which is how he finds himself trying to land a failing helicopter in the middle of a baseball field. Unfortunately, he fails. But he meets Evan in the process, so it's worth it.

read on ao3 or under the cut

“This is Taylor Kelly with your morning traffic update… and we are going down!”

----

Tommy isn’t even supposed to be here. He’s not usually one to fly for anyone but LAFD and himself, but the Skywitness News Eight helicopter desperately needed a pilot and he owed his old army buddy, Trent, a favor. Tommy was too kind to tell him to fuck off, though, he’s pretty sure those two words will leave his mouth the next time he sees Trent’s face.

“Tommy, what’s going on?” Taylor shouts. She’s holding onto the seat belt around her like her life depends on it—and it does, but Tommy isn’t about to tell her that.

“Some kind of engine malfunction. Does Trent keep this thing in good condition?” Tommy asks.

“How am I supposed to know?!” He really hoped for a more confidence-inducing answer. “I’m pretty sure he likes this thing more than me if that says anything!”

“It does,” Tommy mutters, though he knows Taylor can hear him through the radio. Trent always talked about his crush on the redhead and how he would drop everything if she agreed to date him. Unfortunately, Tommy now knows he’s not exactly her type—no man is—so he thinks he’ll have to break the news sooner rather than later.

“Are we falling?! Why does it feel like we’re falling?!” Taylor screams, panicked gasps following in quick succession.

“I’m going to do my best to land, okay? There’s a baseball field below us, and if all goes to plan, we’ll land safely and you’ll have one hell of a story,” Tommy relays.

Taylor laughs humorlessly into the radio. “And if it doesn’t?”

“It’ll still be one hell of a story,” he declares.

Then he focuses on saving their lives.

The baseball field is immense and empty enough that he doesn’t have to worry about collateral damage from the landing, but he realizes quickly it won’t be that easy. Every single control he usually manipulates with ease shakes under his grip, and no matter how much pressure he puts on the cyclic, there’s no tilting his way in the right direction.

He gets the machine as close to the ground as possible and prays that’s enough.

All he remembers is the blades getting louder, a metallic screeching, and a terror-filled shriek, then everything goes dark.

“Tommy? Can you hear me?”

“I think he’s coming to!”

“Kinard, open those baby blues for us!”

When Tommy blinks to consciousness, he feels like he’s been hit by a truck.

“Nope, just crashed a helicopter,” an unfamiliar voice says. He sees the blur of a few hands reaching out to slap the man, and when he follows the arms, he thinks he must be dreaming.

“Wilson? Han?” Tommy’s voice is almost hoarse and he wonders how terrified Taylor was of his warning screams—

Taylor.

He jolts up as best as he can but Hen and Chimney hold him down before he can go too far. The pain that radiates through his chest knocks the breath out of him and he falls horizontal once more, clutching his stomach in pain. He breathes quickly and shallowly, as any attempts to fill his lungs result in sharp twinges of pain. Someone he doesn’t recognize—the voice from before—places an oxygen mask over his face.

“She’s fine. Not a scratch on her,” the man soothes. Tommy likes the sound of his voice. He stops trying to escape his old teammates’ grasp and instead, angles his head back to connect eyes with the unknown man.

He’s a boy, really. Looks at least a decade younger than Tommy, but that doesn’t stop the rush of attraction that seeps through him. The man’s hair is mussed up like someone has run their hands through it—Tommy wants to run his hands through it—and he’s wearing his turnout coat unbuttoned like the picture of casuality. Tommy’s not sure he’s ever seen someone wear the uniform with such confidence and such… sweetness. He’s squinting his eyes from the sun though Tommy still notices a few small pink patches surrounding his eyebrow that match the color of his unfairly kissable lips.

“Yeah, he’s fine,” Hen decides. Tommy knows he’s been caught when he recognizes the sarcasm in her voice. Hen’s always been an observant one. He can practically hear her eyes roll as she makes quick introductions. “Tommy, this is Evan Buckley. Buck, Tommy Kinard.”

“From Air Ops,” Evan says eagerly. Tommy’s stomach flips at the acknowledgment. How has he never heard of Evan before? “What are you doing flying with Taylor Kelly?”

“Slumming it with Skywitness Traffic, Tommy? I can’t believe I saved your life for this,” Chimney teases. Tommy smacks him on his nearest body part and takes the oxygen mask off of his face.

As if on instinct, Evan reaches to put it back, and their hands brush and linger.

Tommy hates to be cliche, but they’re lucky the ambulance doesn’t blow up when the sparks fly through the flowing oxygen. Actually, being touched by Evan Buckley seems like a hell of a way to go…

“Was helping out an old army friend,” Tommy explains. “Can’t let L.A. fall subject to bad traffic patterns, can I?”

Evan laughs, and Tommy’s stomach does a weird fluttering he hasn’t felt in ages.

“Guess you regret that favor, huh?” Chimney jokes.

“Not anymore,” Tommy mutters just loud enough for Evan to hear.

Tommy makes sure to maintain eye contact and only barely stops himself from winking at the poor kid. He’s blushing like crazy, redness spreading up from underneath his high neckline and overtaking his adorable cheeks. From the stillness around them, Tommy doesn’t think this is usual behavior, and he can’t help but feel a little satisfied about that. He chances a glance at Hen and Chimney who are both staring at Evan like he’s lost his damn mind. It takes everything in Tommy not to giggle—both because of embarrassment and the fact he might actually pass out from pain if he does.

“So, what’s the verdict, Evan?” Tommy asks.

The adorable man blinks a few times before glancing up at Hen and Chimney, who Tommy is very aware are the ones with the answer to his question. Out of the corner of his eye, Tommy sees Hen gesturing for Evan to answer himself.

“U-Um, I’m sure you feel ten-tenderness in your ribs so that’s… gotta be looked at.” Evan shakes his head like he’s all too aware of his stammering, but Tommy couldn’t be more smitten. “You lost consciousness so H-Hen—she checked for any issues with your eyes but nothing abnormal. How’s your head?”

Without thinking, Tommy replies, “Would you like to find out?”

There’s a chorus of: “Tommy!” “Get a room!” “Jesus Christ!” “Oh my god!”

All of which are ignored by both of them.

Instead, Evan tilts his head and smiles—it would’ve knocked Tommy off his feet if he were standing.

“I think I just might,” Evan agrees.

“Oh, you two are made for each other,” Hen turns toward Chimney, “how did we not see that?”

“Buck likes guys?!” Chimney says instead. Evan blushes even deeper and Tommy’s glad that he’s not on a heart monitor for all to see it skip a beat. “No, I’m done with this. To answer your question, Tommy, you may have an acute head injury and you definitely have some broken ribs. We’ve gotta get you to the hospital so if you’re done flirting…”

“What if I’m not?” Tommy argues, just to rile Chimney up a little more. Tommy always enjoyed that—misses it, really. “What if I want to see Evan blush a little more?”

“Oh my god,” Buck mumbles. He hides his face in his hands, but Tommy can still see the smile lines between the cracks in his fingers. “Hen, get him out of here.”

“Got it, Buckaroo,” she agrees, shrugging at Tommy playfully.

“I didn’t get your number!” Tommy shouts as best as he can with presumably broken ribs. He knows they’ll hurt a lot more the second he focuses on them, but how can he focus on anything but Evan?

“118.”

With that, Hen shuts the doors and Tommy sighs the happiest sigh he can muster.

“Oh, he’s—” Tommy doesn’t even have the words, but Hen seems to understand.

“You’re in trou-ble, Kinard.” She clicks her tongue.

And Tommy’s never been so excited by the prospect.

(Chimney derails any further conversation with a line of consciousness that starts with, “Okay, since when do both Tommy and Buck like men?! How did I miss this?!”)

#bucktommy #kinley #evan buckley #tommy kinard #911 on abc #bucktommyweekend #buck x tommy #tevan #i hate tagging that pls stop making me #911 #911 fic #bucktommy fic #my writing

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evermourning · 5 months

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'𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰. ⋆｡˚❆

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

WC: 2.1k

Summary: He always knew you would be the one for him. From the moment he met you. And now, he plans to love you eternally. In every lifetime.

A/N: It's Margaret day (Dec. 18) so here is a lovely oneshot in honor of it <3 This song is so beautiful to me and I hope to portray it into words by the very best of my abilities.. also Fem!Reader is mentioned once or twice but anyone can read regardless of gender!

Ever since you were tiny, with small hands that could barely fit around your father's, you've dreamed of this occasion. You've dreamed of the flowing white silk adorning your frame, the vibrant flowers clasped in your gloved hands, the melodious aria playing in your ears as you walked down the aisle something akin to a movie.

In your dreams, the figure waiting at the altar ready to intertwine his soul with yours has always been a mystery, shrouded in a milky fog you rendered impossible to push away. So you'd wait. Wait until the time was right and the sun would shine, clearing the fog and bathing your husband-to-be in golden light.

You know now that man is Christopher Bahng.

From the moment he smiled at you for first time, everything everywhere in the universe came to a screeching halt as you felt yourself falling for him. For the scrunch of his nose and the crinkle of his dark, soulful eyes. For the way the sight of his dimples made your stomach flutter with delight. You knew from the start that at the end of the day he would be yours. He would be the man in your dreams, hidden by the fog.

Now those wishes have come true, and more than you could ever imagine. Life with Chan is simple and sweet. You've always craved the intimate domesticity you saw emanating from movie couples, the cuddling and the kissing and the little acts of service that proved they knew each other better than anyone else.

Life isn't exactly like the movies, though. You aren't stupid. But Chan makes it feel that way. He makes your heart pound with adoration when he comes up behind you while you're making dinner, wrapping his arms around your midsection and pressing a kiss to your shoulder. You swoon whenever you open your eyes to see him staring at you, a saccharine smile upon his perfect lips. You are blessed to even think about spending the rest of your life at his side. It was always a hope, a wish.

But now, as you stare at yourself in the oval mirror, your body adorned in hues of white and a lacy veil upon your head, your wish has been fleshed out and exposed. It is quite simply, a miracle. And now, a reality. It hits you like a truck. You are getting married. To the love of your life, your first and final flame. In less than an hour, you will have the sacred right to call Chan your husband, to raise children and grow old with him. A single tear slips down your face. It is the first of many that will flow like a river today.

From the tent where you've spent the last three hours getting ready, you can hear quiet conversation and a soft symphony playing as people get to their seats. Chan must already be up there. Your heart rate quickens. Will he like how you look? Will he think you're beautiful? It's a foolish thought, as you know to the very depths of yourself that Chan loves every single atom in your body. He loves you when you are at your happiest, your smile bright enough to power a city, and he loves you at your lowest point, falling apart in his arms when you think you cannot do a single thing right. To him, you are the very oxygen that keeps his lungs working and his blood pumping.

Your bridesmaids come up to you, whispering words of encouragement with wide grins before they are whisked away. One after another, you hear the 'oohs' and 'aahs' from the crowd. You fight urges to peek outside. You and Chan had both wanted a more private wedding, opting to only invite family and close friends. And it was 100% worth it, you wholeheartedly believe. Although the promise of loved ones cannot quell your shaking hands and beating heart. You fidget with your hands, waiting until it is almost your time.

You sigh with relief once Minho, your longtime best friend, slips into the tent, smiling sweetly at you as he takes your hands in his.

"You look amazing. God, you're all grown up now." his voice is filled with multitudes of love for you. From the moment these dreams began as a child, you've known Minho was going to be the one who gave you away. He's watched your heart get broken time after time, comforting you each and every time as gently as the first time it happened. And then, because of him, you met Chan. You will forever be indebted to him. "Are you ready to go? They're all waiting for you. You're going to stun them."

And you nod, a nervous smile upon your lips as Minho links his arm with you. The music crescendos as you step out, and all eyes fall on you. They gasp at the sight of you, people clutching their chests with excitement. You can't help it. You beam, your face radiant.

You don't want to look at Chan yet, still taking in the scenery. The venue is outside, not a single discrepancy in the beautiful sunset. The color theme is white, matching your attire, and paired with the vibrant green vegetation, it looks absolutely divine. Your bridesmaids are giggling and waving to you, unimaginably proud of how far you've come. You pass Chan's family, soon to be yours, and his mother places a hand over her heart in silent gratitude. A thank you, for being her son's one true love.

When you look to the right, you see the remaining six of Chan's boys, dressed to the nines and watching the scene with utmost excitement. You can't help but chuckle when Felix wipes a tear away, eliciting merciless teasing from Jisung and Hyunjin. But even from here, you can see they have watery eyes too. They have nothing but adoration for Chan, and they are your family just as much as they are his.

Then, your eyes fall on Chan. His jaw is to the floor staring at you, taking in every inch of you. When you step up the altar opposite him, he is quick to take your hands in his. His voice is shaky as praise falls again and again from his full lips.

"Oh my god, you're beautiful- you're so- I can't even find the words for it. You've enchanted me. I can't speak." Noticing him getting flustered, you snicker. The officiant unfortunately interrupts your moment.

"May we begin?"

The first part is a blur, the only part you vividly remember and will forever cement into your cerebral is Chan squeezing your hands tightly as he looks deep into your eyes and says the two words that will change your life: "I do."

He never once looks away from you. Not when the officiant cracks a joke or two that bring his infamous dimples out, not when he is carefully slipping a silver wedding band onto your ring finger. When he is done, he lifts your hand up and presses a chaste kiss to the ring. It sits right alongside the brilliant diamond he proposed with, and the crowd releases a collective "awww". When you put his ring on, you do the same. It is a sign of respect and equality. There will never be an imbalance between you.

And finally, it is time for the vows. You wrote these the day after Chan proposed. You knew exactly what you'd been waiting to say to him all this time.

"This feels unreal to me. I still can't believe I'm standing here, about to tie the knot with the only person who has ever made me feel this way. I've never been so giddy when I'm around someone. I've never been so lonely and mopey when you're away. I want to spend every waking moment thinking about you if we are too far away from each other to touch." He's about to cry, it's so obvious, so you rub soft circles upon the skin of his hand. "Love is an inexplicable thing. It's fickle and can be mean, and I always thought it was out to get me. But I was wrong, because I was blessed with you. Love is far too soft of a word for me to use, because the way I feel about you could never be explained. I could dig through every page of every book, meticulously searching for the right term to use, but it would be to no avail. So you must trust me when I say that I love you, although there is so much more complexity than just those three words. Trust me when I'm falling apart and trust me when I'm doting on you like there's no tomorrow because just know that you are making all of my childhood wishes come true by being you. I promise to love you even when your hands are gnarled and you complain a bit too much about your back hurting. I'll love you when you finally become the old man Seungmin is always telling you about. And finally, I'll love you because you make me human."

The audience takes a moment for your words to register, before it is Chan's turn to say his vows. He takes a moment to compose himself before he begins, his eloquence taking everybody by surprise.

"Thank you, angel. That was beautiful. I still remember the first time I saw you. I was at Minho's birthday, and it was getting too stuffy, so I went up to the rooftop to catch my breath. You were up there, in all your beauty, and I swore I wanted to marry you right then and there. Your hair was blowing in the wind and you were wearing white, and I was like 'Shit. You're gonna be mine one day' because I knew that you were trouble and I didn't care because I would go to the ends of the earth for you to even look my way. It was then, I knew. I knew that you would make me the happiest man on Earth. I knew that I would love you for the rest of my life, even if you didn't feel the same. I remember our first date, when we curled up on the couch together and we watched 'Tangled', and the way your eyes lit up at Flynn and Rapunzel's relationship, and I knew instantly that I was going to give you something so much better. Your body is my home, and your arms, my shelter. Our youth may fade, but our love will never be anything finite. Our souls are intertwined now, tied together by the string of fate that led us here. I will search for you in every lifetime. Even if you are on the other side of the world, I will travel the seven seas for even a glimpse of your face.l love you, forever and evermore."

His words are like a drug, seeping into your system and mellowing you out until you can only think of him. You tune out the ceremony until you hear the words you've been longing for ever since you saw him.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss the bride!" And in the blink of an eye, Chan's arms are wrapped around you so tightly you fear your body will disintegrate if he loosens his hold on you. His lips are on yours, kissing you with so much passion and intensity that you two are one. When he finally pulls away, he wraps his arm around you and you look towards your friends and family with a smile. Now comes the final part of your ceremony. The sky has mellowed out now, a shady of navy blue speckled with shimmering stars that you would never see in the city.

Hand-in-hand, you kneel down beside a lantern with both of your names inscribed upon it with a heart. Together, you light it and lift it up so it dances in the breeze, traveling up, up, up, until your love has reached the heavens. You watch it go, your head on Chan's shoulder and his arm around you.

"Thank you for loving me." you whisper in his ear.

"Don't thank me like this is a chore, it is a choice. And from now until the end of time, my choice will always be you."

#ren writes!! <3 #evermourning #stray kids #skz #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan fluff #chan x reader #chan skz #bang chan skz #christopher bang

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jongseongsnudes · 6 months

Text

twenty two.

warning; one swear word + 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 0.8k words. masterlist.

[NEW MESSAGE: NISHIMURA] “hurry upppppppp”

“so impatient,” you mutter to yourself as you head down your driveway to where the tall boy stood with his back at you. even from the back did he looked so handsome, the boy dressed in a simple black oversized hoodie and some dark pants but enough to take your breath away.

“finally- wow-” he turns to face you, his words stopping mid sentence when your gazes meet. he looks stunned for a moment, his eyes wider than they usually are like he had just seen something outrageous. it only made you more conscious than you already were, perhaps your outfit choice wasn’t as good as you thought.

specifically for today, you chose a cute summery dress, something you didn’t wear too often but was hoping the jock would love. but judging from his face, you’re beginning to lean more towards running back into your house to hide instead than to continue on with the date.

“what... do i look that bad...”

“uh- um-” he mumbles, eyes scanning your outfit before turning away, “i don’t care. lets go."

he walks off without another word while you’re left to try and catch up. but of course with your height difference, he was already at the bus stop before you could even say wait. niki has always been rough around the edges but he seemed strange today, compared to the him you were talking to just last night.

when he softly told you how excited he was for your first date today and then proceeded to fall asleep on the phone.

so cute!

yet here he was now, sitting beside you on the backseat of the bus... totally ignoring you. while you were trying to figure out why he was like that, he seemed to be distracted by something else.

“why is it so short?” he suddenly looks down at where your dress ends on your thigh, the boy evidently unpleased, “is this a dress or a shirt?”

you look at him in confusion, unsure where this was coming from. your lack of reaction seems to annoy the boy further, who then places his arm over your thighs instead, partially covering up your lap with his jumper.

“if you don’t want me yelling at random people, wear something longer next time,” he says, his eyes however, are now glaring towards another boy sitting a few seats away, someone who had been staring at you since getting on.

“what are you on about nishimura,” you question him with a chuckle, finding the situation slightly humorous, “you jealous again?”

“no. i just don’t like guys staring at you.”

“no one is staring at me.”

“are you stupid?” and he finally looks up at you, eyes almost drilling holes into your face, “you look like this and you think no one will look?”

“... and how do i look?”

his head whips over to you in lightning speed, brows furrowed and mouth hung opened as if you had just said the most ridiculous thing. before you could repeat yourself, the boy cups your cheeks into his big hands and pulls you closer towards him, so close that you could feel his angry breaths on your lips.

“pretty! the fucking prettiest!”

not only were you startled by his sudden confession but the entire bus was too. almost every single person was now facing you, making the cute moment, slightly embarrassing.

“okay okay,” you whisper yell at the boy who looked like realisation hit him like truck, with eyes as wide as they could be. like he only realised now what he just blurted out.

he places his head into the crook of your neck much to your surprise, hiding his reddening face from the quiet laughter around the bus. and of yours too. your heart almost explodes at the sight, the boy being so unbelievably cute even at his 100 foot height.

but it’s your current position that is causing your heart to go haywire. how his entire body is leaning on you, arms now resting on either sides of you... his head on your shoulder.

how were you supposed to act now??

“i can feel your heart beating really quickly,” he says out of the blue, his face still in your neck, “is it because of me?”

“we- well i-”

“well my heart is beating ten times as fast being this close to you,” his voice is almost inaudible, tone soft and low, almost as if just for you to hear, “i think i like you a little too much.”

the boy finally leans back, just enough so he could look at you. no one says anything but the growing smiles on both your faces were enough.

nothing mattered in that moment, not even the fact that your stop had just passed. because in that moment, there’s only you and him.

“i know you do nishimura.”

and you lean right in, kissing the boy that you couldn’t believe, was yours.

end.

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