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steviewashere · 2 months

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Kisses to Make it Better

Rating: General CW: Vomiting (It's Kind of Gross, Sorry) Tags: Established Relationship, Married Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Future Fic, Sick Fic, Sick Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has Migraines, Steve Harrington Has Head Trauma, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Forehead Kisses, Lots of Kisses, Star Wars Reference, Steve Harrington is a Dork, Eddie Munson is a Dork, Teacher Steve Harrington (Briefly Mentioned), Mild Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

For the @steddielovemonth prompt: "Love is the kiss on my forehead."

💕—————💕

When Steve wakes up, it’s to the sharp, piercing sensation of a migraine attack. He immediately closes his eyes and groans. His senses are heightened miserably.

Soft bird song is like screeching. The gentle rustle of tree leaves like the scrapes of fingernails on a chalkboard. (And god does he know that from working with a bunch of butthead eighth graders.) Any sunlight is like a laser aiming to obliterate him onsite. He’s warm and boiling and the blanket sears where it touches. But when the removes it, he’s frozen to his core and shivering. The dull sounds of Eddie’s snores—Steve almost wants to suffocate him; he may not usually be a motorboat, but wow does he mimic one amazingly right now.

He can’t take it. The space in their bedroom is too much for his everything. So, he grabs his pillow from under his head, stands on unsteady legs, and ventures out into the hallway. Snatches a spare quilt—one made by Joyce Byers some short years ago for his and Eddie’s makeshift backyard wedding—a wash rag to put under cold water, and a towel. Just in case he has to lay on the bathroom floor. It’s humiliating knowing that the migraine could reach that point, what he wouldn’t give for his uninjured pre-1983 brain.

The couch is lumpy and distinctly firm and uncomfortable under his mutilated back. He’s sweaty, cold, too hot, nauseous, and dizzy. Really, he should’ve stopped by the medicine cabinet in the bathroom for his Imitrex. But the mere idea of standing longer than he needs to, the floor like ocean waves crashing at his feet, his entire body an uneasy cargo ship ready to crash into lighthouse rocks—it makes him shiver. Though, whether that be from his body’s inability to regulate his temperature, he isn’t sure.

But he manages to find a comfortable enough spot. Left arm squished and folded awkwardly by his head, the other tight at his side. Legs crossed at his ankles. The rest of him completely supine to the cushions. Head nestled and drowning in his practically flat, definitely overused bedroom pillow. He sighs, agitated.

This is his life.

Probably should’ve woken up Eddie. Probably should go to the landline and call in sick to work. Probably should get a puke bucket, too. But…nope, he’s somewhere between comfortable and dying on the couch. The perfect in-between. He closes his eyes against the next wave of dizzying nausea that overrides him. Breathing through his nose in sharp, hot exhales. Willing it, or at least attempting to, away. This is one of the worst attacks he’s had in a very long while. Beats out the infamous migraine attack of 1990, a story that ends in a bed at urgent care, accompanied by heaving puke, with Robin’s and Nancy’s cold hands to his sweaty forehead, and Eddie nervously chomping away at his fingertips. Should he go to urgent care? He grinds his teeth together at the thought.

Distantly, there’s some shuffling around the bedroom. Steve grimaces at the noise. Then, some light footfalls in the hallway. And all at once, God’s heavenly light is cast around him, though now it’s like the swallowing pits of Hell. He groans, tight and muffled in the back of his throat.

“Shit,” Eddie hisses. “Sorry, baby, sorry,” he whispers. Eddie’s not that great at whispering. Or, maybe he is. Maybe Steve is Dumbo level sensitive to every sound in the world. The light is flicked back off and Eddie comes closer to the couch.

Though, the aromatic scents of Eddie’s Axe musk body spray overpower every sensation Steve’s experienced in the short span he’s been awake. Did he fucking spray it before going to bed, Steve wonders, gagging. He puts out a weak hand, palm towards Eddie. “Don’t,” he strains. Even his voice is grating. “You—“ He gags again, throat clenching, stomach turning, bile rising. The palm draws back, flapping in the air, landing harsh around his mouth, squeezing his skin and lips. Steve rolls up onto his right elbow, pointing his face down at the floor, puking—into the kitchen garbage can that Eddie has, somehow, brought in super human speeds.

Eddie hushes above him. He must be crying if that’s how Eddie’s reacting. But he can’t care to notice. His head trapped in the kitchen bag. Coffee grounds and an empty container of baked beans, combining in a hideous concoction that could be compared to that of fresh, steaming dog shit. The sour stench of himself, his insides, the rest of the putrid garbage around his spewing mouth and snotty nose—it all makes him puke harder. A hand traces up and down his spine, the heavy touch barely noticeable unless he’s gasping for air.

When he’s done, he collapses back onto the couch with a resound thud. His breath exhausted and the blood vessels in his face probably bursted. Closes his eyes to block out everything, to try and ground himself again. Eddie shuffles as quietly as he can out of the room. The front door is open, cold morning breeze tickling Steve’s skin, the trash can placed on the porch for now. It’ll get changed out, Steve knows Eddie will do it. He’s getting the Imitrex, some Zofran. Water and a straw. Steve can only hope that Eddie will take a quick shower with some unscented soap, the cologne musk too infuriating to his nose.

He’s carefully sat up. Body loose-limbed and aching all over. Propped up into sitting on the middle cushion. Hair swiped away from his forehead, clipped back by a couple alligator clips. Eddie gently taps the underside of his chin. The nonverbal request, Please open your mouth for your medicine. Steve drops his jaw without hesitation. Pills set on his tongue and a straw placed between his lips. Eddie’s hand goes to his left arm, running up and down in slow stripes. Please take slow slurps, is what that hand motion means. And Steve does what he’s told. Careful to not upset his already agitated stomach.

“Eddie,” he croaks. A hum lightly vibrates from above him. Hands nestled on his skin, laying him back down on the couch. He doesn’t open his eyes, squeezes them tighter in fact. Sighing into the horizontal position of his body. “Eds, please take a shower.”

A light snort. “Saying I stink?” Eddie whispers, though there’s no offense drawn tight in his voice. Just amusement. Maybe some concern if Steve could only focus on the sound.

He shakes his head, but grimaces at the light-headed sensation it causes. Settles and whispers, “No, I can smell your cologne. Too strong.”

“Oh,” Eddie mutters. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Let me take care of that.” He sets something clunky on the floor. Another bucket, most likely. And stands, his shadow blocking the sunlight streaming in through their living room windows. He must take notice to the light because then, the curtains are all shut at once. Or, something quick like that. Steve isn’t really aware of reality right now. Floating somewhere between comfortable and dying, laying in that still, too.

In the blink of an eye, Eddie is back by his side. Though, when his right hand tangles with Steve’s, he’s noticeably damp. Either he took the quickest shower in existence. Or Steve’s time blindness is on another level today.

“Pain level?” Eddie murmurs.

Steve sighs through his nose. “Started as a nine,” he mutters, “down to a seven.”

“Poor baby,” Eddie sweetly coos. He gently squeezes Steve’s palm. I’m here, I’ve got you, you’re safe, he says. His other palm settles softly on Steve’s forehead, over the cold wash cloth he placed there. Thumb pressing between Steve’s eyebrows. “Want me to massage?”

“Yes, please,” Steve murmurs.

Another squeeze to his palm. Then, Eddie carefully maps his fingers over Steve’s scalp, pressing down minutely into the tendered areas. He sweeps his thumb down the bridge of his nose, under his eyes, pushing gently at the surrounding bone and sinus pockets.

But then, he does something he normally wouldn’t do. He peels the washcloth off. Which is fine with Steve, it’s already gone warm. He’ll need the ice pack in the freezer in a few. Eddie puts his hand back on the crest of Steve’s head. And leans down.

A warm, barely damp, sweet peck to the center of Steve’s forehead.

He opens his eyes. Steve—already sensitive, strung up beyond belief—tears up. Whimpering lowly, attempting to not be heard. Though, of course Eddie heard. He’s extra perceptive when Steve has migraine days. He immediately draws back, eyes wide and frowning. “Fuck,” he spits, muted. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t mean to make it worse.”

Through his weeping, however quiet it is, Steve stutters, “It’s fine—it—You didn’t hurt me. Just—Sweet.” He preens up into the hand still on the back of his head. “Wasn’t expecting it.”

“Oh,” Eddie whispers. He settles back down, having risen up on his knees from where he’s situated on the floor. Another little kiss to Steve’s nearest temple. Then between his eyebrows. Under his eyes. Tip of his nose. Back to the center of his forehead. “Just kissing the hurt away,” Eddie murmurs on Steve’s skin. Smacking one more on the crinkle Steve didn’t even know he was doing. “Is it working?” He lowly whispers.

Steve chuckles. “I don’t know,” he says. “Do it again?”

“Of course,” Eddie promises. A kiss here and there. But, the most prominent spot being his forehead. Eddie’s hand slides away from Steve’s, instead splaying over his heart. Pressing firm to his chest. Steve briefly wonders if Eddie can feel how his heart speeds up with each press of his lips.

Another to his forehead, drifting down his nose, one on his chin, and the last on his lips. “Ew, Eds,” Steve murmurs, “I got barf breath.”

“Don’t care,” Eddie mutters. Back at Steve’s forehead. “You aren’t contagious,” he says as if that immediately overrides how disgusting it is. “In fact, the only thing I’m catching from you is feelings,” he flirts, or at least Steve thinks he’s attempting to do that. If the stupidly endearing little wiggle to his eyebrows means anything.

Steve fondly rolls his eyes. “You’re such a dork,” he states.

“Your dork,” Eddie whispers. “And I love you.”

“I know,” Steve whispers in turn.

Eddie draws back from kissing again. To lock eyes with Steve, who is glowing with mirth. Probably paler than he’s ever been and tinted green. Yet, with fake annoyance in Eddie’s eyes, all that’s directed at Steve is unashamed love. “Did you just Han Solo me? Who’s the dork now?”

“Me,” Steve proudly murmurs. “Kiss?”

And Eddie obliges.

With the kisses as distraction, a hand over his heart, the nausea receding for now—Steve is filled with warm love. He believes that Eddie may truly heal him.

Migraines are always the worst days. But it’s a good day, if Eddie is there beside him.

💕—————💕

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddielovemonth #day 25

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nyxonlive · 4 months

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halloween came too early

KATSUKI BAKUGO || on the brink of death, you didn't expect your savior to be the guy that you ghosted..right? BEFORE YOU READ !! TW; mentions of blood and injuries

you swore you were doing nothing to put your life in danger, you were just going on your merrily way, your coffee in your hand, your christmas spirit obvious on the glee you have in your face and then *BANG* you're suddenly on laying on your back coughing a shitstorm with your vision clouded...

pain immediately settled in as you tried to sit up, only founding that it was impossible with your leg almost smothered by the debris that fell when the loud bang happened and the red liquid staining your new bought blouse you gave up trying to sit up and just laid there, by squinting your eyes you registered that half of the wall collapsed and just by your luck it chooses you to be their resting space. as your hope was about to give out you heard a distant scream "HEY! SOMEONE'S STUCK OVER HERE SOMEONE HELP HER!" with your eyes closed you felt the rubbish on your thigh being thrown away and you immediately felt someone carry you, as you open then trying to push back the hot tears pooling in your eyes because of the pain you were feeling you noticed who your savior was 'oh shit, oh fuck' was the immediate thought that came into your mind seeing as the hero that is currently carrying you out of the ruckus was pro hero bakugou, oh how bad did you wanted the ground to swallow you whole, matter fact you just wanted to relive the moment and have all the debris crush you to avoid this awkward interaction. as he felt your stare those ruby eyes ones found you again, and then suddenly you were 15 with you and him spending after class dates or supporting his dreams, you felt his stare linger but he still manage to get you out off the building safely; eyes still on you as you looked away not ready to face his anger or questions on why you ghosted him when you were both so close on achieving your dreams together. he quickly handed you to the medical team that was onsite, they surrounded you the second you were put down in the bed as they quickly scan you for any injuries and wrapped your wounds but your eyes still following the blonde man's figure as he looked for any victims in the wreck, guilt bubbled up in your stomach knowing that he would never look your way or even talk to you but you knew you deserved this for abandoning him so suddenly. but your breath hitched when you saw those ruby eyes staring back at you; heading straight your way. "i didn't spend half of my years finding you to see you hurt and bleeding, peach."

sooo part 2? (also please excuse my writing i haven't written anything for over 2 years TT)

#bnha x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #mha x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #my hero academia x reader #bnha x reader fluff #bnha x reader angst #drabble

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ohcaptains · 2 years

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sit around and miss you

pairing. frank castle x female! reader. an. hello!!!! pls reblog & comment if u like !!! love u warnings. 18+. female receiving penetration, spit play (!!in mouth!!), detailed descriptions of violence, use of the word sir, references to somnophilia (but not actually happening), mouth covering? with hand. frank’s a big meany who loves you.

synopsis. frank’s antsy after a night shift, especially when his buddies were talking smack about how he’s leaving you in bed all alone.

Sometimes, Frank works nights.

It used to be his full-time gig, but now that he’s moved onto a new line of work, he only has to do it once a week. On the Jobsite for eight pm, finish at four am. In bed by five. Showered.

His hair damp and sticking on end from where he’d shoved a towel through it, too tired to care about the consequences of sleeping with it wet.

Just wants to get into bed, curl up behind you, and breathe morning sunshine, into the skin of your back before sleeping until lunchtime.

Every so often though, he gets distracted.

When he’s wired from being on a construction site for the last eight hours, and from the coffee he’d consumed, gallons of it, you’d said, but it was more like a litre – he’s not ready to sleep.

See’s you snuggled up in your shared bed.

Blanket stuffed between your limbs, legs wrapped around the fabric, letting him see the bare skin of your legs and the little slither of skin at the bottom of your back from where your shirt has risen. Cute little sleep socks fuzzy around your ankles.

The skin of your thighs, soft on top of the duvet, and the way your shorts didn’t really fit you anymore, but every summer night you tugged the washed-out cotton on, driving Frank crazy by the way the fabric stops just after it starts.

I think it’s time to get new shorts sweetheart.

Your smug smile as you scrunch your face up. You don’t really mean that.

He didn’t.

Same way he didn’t really want to let you sleep.

Wanted to tug your shorts down and stretch you open. Slip inside of you. Feel how warm you are, all sleepy and groggy, whimpering his name as he says, shhh shh, go back to sleep baby. It’s just me. I’ll be quick I promise.

Franks wired again.

Chomping at the god damn bit.

The guys at work were giving him shit. In his onsite office, there’s a picture of you on his desk. One taken last summer. You’re smiling at the camera, glistening from the vitamin D, and dressed in a pretty, frilly, and short summer dress.

A bunch of guys were in his office, talking about on loads and offloads when O’Brien made a whistling sound and tugged at the picture frame. “That your girl, Castle?” “That’s my wife, O’Brien.” “Damnnnnn,” Simpson sounded, taking the frame, “and you left that in bed to come here?”

Yeah. He did. And he felt bad about it every time. Even if before he left, you’d cup his face and kiss his forehead, saying, go bring home the bacon. Even if you pouted at his sad face, saying, you’ll be home soon.

He imagined your pouty face then, as the guys were ogling over your picture.

Imagined you saying, Frank, again? As he dripped blood onto the welcome mat. Covered head to toe in it, the stains from what was left of O’Brien and Simpson.

Last time, I promise. You said that before.

Some guys just needed to be put down.

He thought about it. He really did. Thought about taking the paperweight you’d bought for him and slamming it against O’Brien’s head. Felt the impact, feeling it rattle through his frame before breathing a sigh of relief.

Then again, maybe not.

That didn’t stop him from laughing along with his buddies, though, as he got up from his chair. Stating a level of calm as he walked around his desk, nodding, saying, yeah, yeah, I did, as he took the frame from Simpson’s fingers, and then dropped his smile.

Going completely serious.

Face a death mask, absolutely nothing going on behind his black eyes. The boys’ laughter turned nervous. High pitch sounds trailed off, looking at each other for help as Frank stood there silently, time ticking by.

He could do it for hours.

He hadn’t needed to, though.

“Hey, Castle—” a voice from the door, punctuated by a knock. “They need you at the drop site.”

He chooses to ignore how wired he is.

He chooses to sit at the edge of the bed you share and stare into the darkness, the moonlight cutting the room in half from the slits in the blinds. Chooses to ignore the desire swimming in his belly.

The feeling that’s been brewing since the guys made their comments. The feeling that burns deep, so deep sometimes that it scares him.

The feeling to take. To possess. To consume.

You blink awake suddenly, the feeling of someone in the room waking you up. There’s a white figure in front of you, turned on its side from your position.

You let out a little breath of surprise, whispering, “Frank?” in a concerned tone. He shifts quickly, turning round to face you. Messy damp hair and fingers combing through his beard.

“Hi baby,” he greets, whispering so as to not disturb you further. Still, you sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “Did you just get in?” “Half an hour ago?” He watches you shift across the bed, the moonlight bathing you, reminding him that you went to sleep in shorts and a thin tank top. “Mm,” you begin, sitting on your knees in front of him, “and you’re just sitting there?” “Mm-hmm,” he nods, black eyes tracing your features. “Like a weirdo,” you tease, raising a brow. He doesn’t laugh, just chews on his bottom lip and watches you. Sees the way you sit on the backs of your thighs, your hands on the tops, arms inadvertently pushing your breasts together in your thin vest. “I guess so,” he trails off. “What’s up?” you frown. He gives you a non-committed shrug. “Something happen at work?”

He blinks.

Bingo.

There it is.

Still, he shrugs. Doesn’t say a word as his eyes drunkenly study your features, seeing your puffy lips, and sleepy face. The way you wait so patiently for an answer. He knows that It’s just because you’ve just woken up.

Any normal day, you’d be scoffing, saying, I’m not a mind reader, Frank, before dramatically rolling your eyes.

His finger comes out to smooth over your hip.

“Frank,” you whisper, cocking your head to the side. It didn’t matter that you’d been together for what had felt like a millennium – Frank got quiet. Tried to hide his demons in his silence. In his hard face and busted nose.

You reach out, now, and trace the bumps there, cooing, saying, I can’t help if I don’t know.

He smells shower fresh. His hard, scarred skin is soft and clean. Hair damp at the edges, beard a little wet, too. Pretty. His naked back flexing – tense. Muscular chest the same, yet you trail the length of his nose. Delicately lift your finger and trace the outline of his eyebrows, leaning forward. Frank stays where he is.

Tell me, you breathe.

Frank decides to show you.

Something snaps. That tense, that clench that he was holding onto disperses into the night as his big palm comes out and collects your waist, driving your back into the pillows as his body hovers over you.

Surprised, a shocked sound tumbles from your mouth before Frank covers it, tasting your sleep and mint with his quick tongue.

It consumes you.

You’re still in that groggy, half-awake phase and it causes you to react slowly. You’re silent and unmoving from his touch until your body awakens.

Ohhh. So, this was what he was fighting? You wonder, feeling his big, bumpy nose mesh against your cheek as he kisses you, mouth hungry and skilled, tinged with a little desperation, then a lot as your legs lazily open, his body slotting against yours perfectly.

He grumbles against your mouth, your crotch brushing against his chest.

The sound echoes throughout the night, throughout your bewildered body, and it forces your thighs to tighten around him, feet crossing over at the bottom of his back and slackly pushing at the elastic of his sleep trousers. Digging into the muscle of his ass and across the scar there.

He pulls away, your mouth trailing after his until his big hand comes into view, tightening around your jaw.

The ghost of a smile finds your lips, one that makes Frank go warm. Though, he frowns. “The guys at work were talking about you.” The admission makes you mimic his face. “They saw the picture I have of you…asked how I could leave a woman like you all alone in bed.”

A woman like you. A woman like me? you think. “Gosh, such a travesty,” you say, rolling your eyes. You introduce a pout, your tone twisting into a mocking sound. “Oh, Frank! What ever would I do without my man?” “Shut up,” he grumbles. Still, you carry on, a light-hearted, sleepy smile on your face as you clutch his chest. “I am lost, lost without you! Whenever you’re away, I just sit around and miss you!”

Which is not entirely wrong, if you’re being honest. Frank’s face gets hard. “It pissed me off, having them question me. Question…” my love for you. “Ohhh,” you whisper, leaning up to brush against his wanting mouth. “So, you want to show them who’s boss?” Frank shakes his head. “They’re right, how on earth could I leave you alone in our bed?” He mouths at the dip at your neck. Tongue jutting out to lick at your skin, making your mouth open to the white of your ceiling.

His large, bear-like palm flattens across your body, smoothing down your side to the small shorts. “Especially dressed like this.” He’s half-hard against you already, cock pushing against the bottom of your belly. The feel of him is a welcome one. It fuels you on – makes you act on instinct and rut your hips up into him, grinding your crotch against his length.

“Oh fuck,” he curses, the end of the word high pitch and breathy. You carry on grinding your clothed cunt against him, feeling him swell, hearing his breathing quicken and he tries to hide it, tries to muffle it against the hot skin of your neck but it’s no use. “God,” you gasp, clenching as the head of his cock brushes at your clit. The side of his face comes into view, and he moves to kiss the underside of your jaw.

Moves lower, mouth trailing over your collar bones while his big fingers tug at the elastic of your vest, forcing your tits to spill out.

With your fingers in his long hair, he mouths at your hardened nipple, tongue lapping at the skin and sucking it into his mouth. “I nearly killed them, I swear,” he grumbles, sucking a bruise into the soft skin. Your sleepy brain remembers how this started.

He would have and don’t you know it.

But, right now, you’re too focused on the feeling of his calloused hand gently rubbing at your skin. Too focused on the wet of his mouth spreading over your breast, his teeth running over you ever so gently, forcing you to gasp his name. You rake your nails lower, over the top of his hard, muscular back. Ground-up again, hips rolling against the tense skin of his chest.

God, you’re tired. So fucking turned on, too. The drowsy feeling, mixed with the heightened sensation of his cock still pushing at your clit makes you loopy, makes you mouldable.

He’s being so gentle with you, yet his words are venomous – tinged with hate. “Smash their heads in for even looking at you.”

He would, too.

Back then, probably. Didn’t he do that one time? …you can’t remember.

Big bad Frank Castle. Your, big bad Frank Castle, who’s leaving marks over your chest with his tongue, mumbling out, kill em, for looking at my pretty girl.

He tongues your nipple, chuckling at himself. “I will pay thousands of dollars to keep the heating on, just so you can go to bed in outfits like these every night,” Frank declares.

You close your eyes and arch your back, a dreamy smile on your face as you tease, “What’s the point if you just leave me here all alone though?”

He stops. In the dark, you can feel his breathing fluttering against your face. Dragging your eyes open, he’s there, that big nose that you love, the wet lips you dream about. Black eyes that make you squirm.

“Hi,” you giggle, thinking it’s funny. Frank’s face is serious, though.

“You laughing at me, baby?” he asks. “No way,” you sound, shaking your head. Still, there’s delirium in your eyes. In the silence of the night, Frank watches you. Sees you chewing on your lips, and sees the way you’re lazily blinking at him.

“What’s the matter?” he asks softly. “M'sleepy.”

Suddenly, Frank feels like an asshole.

His face crumbles.

You see it happening, see his self-hatred rearing up to come and grab him.

“I’m sorry, baby—I,” he starts, and Nononono, you think. Quickly, you shake your head. Kiss his lips to quiet him, peck at his cheek, his thick neck, “m’want you, though,” you mumble against him, hoping the words seep into his skin.

Frank’s silent, contemplative. You slide your fingers back into his hair, mould your mouth to his and hitch your hips up, sliding your clothed pussy against his dick.

“M’was dreaming about you,” you admit, and the admission forces a pained groan out of him. He kisses you back, albeit with less vigour than before. Battling with himself. “Whenever you’re gone, I always do. Think about moments like this,” you carry on, grinding your hips into him, whimpering out when the head of his dick meets your clit again and your tone is breathless as you whisper against his mouth, “think about waking up with you inside of me.” You swear he whimpers, but the sound disperses as he meshes his mouth deeper, tongue pushing against yours with his big hand wandering over your body.

Over your tits, stomach, until he stuffs it between your legs, dragging a desperate whine from you, then the truth.

“When um all sleepy, and groggy.”

His fingers push at the damp fabric – against your clit. The pressure makes you blind, makes you carry on.

“and you’re just so big on top of me,” you sigh, tasting his spit, imaging him, then feeling him, his body a weighted blanket.

“and you’re telling me to shhh, covering my mouth and just saying, take it.” He mutters something against you, but you can’t hear it. Can just feel him, rolling your clit round and round, your slick pooling in your shorts.

It makes your back arch, makes you sob his name into his mouth before he opens his eyes and juts his spare hand out, taking your jaw in his big palm again.

Your breath catches, pussy clenches at the sensation, and it makes you whimper out, “I want you inside of me.”

Frank says, okay baby, and spits in your mouth.

You hear it before you see it, or taste it, even. Hear the wet sound, then feel it trickling over your lips and chin, pooling above his fingers at your jaw.

Like a trained pet, your tongue comes out, silently begging, again.

You know it’s just your tired, groggy brain talking, but It feels like a fucking religious experience. He spits into your mouth again, dribbles onto your wanting tongue, forcing your cunt to clench again, clit throbbing – aching, as you taste him.

He kisses the remainder away, his tongue flat and dragging your mouth into his. He’s still moving his big finger, still dragging your clit in tight, skilled circles.

You cry again, the sound twisting into a moan as he hits a nerve. Heat pools at your lower back. You clench again, pouting against his mouth.

“I know,” Frank soothes, and he does, can feel it, feel how wet you are, fabric slick with you.

So, he speeds up and hears your resulting cries as you clench the duvet in your fists, tits bouncing as your body shudders.

Frank bends down and takes one in his mouth. He runs his teeth over your nipple and you’re sobbing, throwing your head back and clinging to his hair. Hips grinding into his hand, nodding, whispering, “please, oh god, please.” “Shh, shh, baby,” he coos, then, he smiles, “take it.”

You come then, fingers stuffed into his hair, his name tumbling from your lips. The feeling spreads over your thighs, your cunt, in your belly, your slick leaking into your underwear. “God, oh my fucking god,” you sob, clenching, Frank’s finger’s still going, and you try and push him away, squirming, the pressure overwhelming but he’s a stone, mouth still sucking at your nipple.

You can’t come down. The feeling never ends, instead, it triples with his movement, making your nerves shot, and overstimulated.

“F-Frank,” you sob, and he must hear your tone because when you shove your hands down to push his away, he lets you.

Drags his mouth up to kiss you. Swallows down your whimpers. Says, there you go, with his damp fingers brushing over your own. He lets you sober up, even if the feeling has made you drunk. Made you liquid.

“You ready to take me now, pretty?” His dark husk asks. The thought makes you cry. “Yes please,” you shiver, reaching up to kiss him. You’re still so eager, greedy, begging him to push inside of you with your deep kiss and wandering hands. “Atta girl,” Frank compliments, the words washing over you, making you dumb. “Let’s get your shorts off, huh?”

Clothes on the floor, Frank’s lining himself up with your aching hole. You watch, legs spread open, then feel him start to push the head in.

“Shit,” you hiss, head falling back – pussy clenching around him already. He slides his hands over the inside of your thighs and the feeling goes straight to your clit.

“Relax baby,” he whispers, eyes flicking up to yours, “or I’m not gonna fit.”

You nod, breathing, “Okay.” Then, “Okay, okay, okay.” “Shh shh shh,” he repeats, bending his head down to kiss you. Your arms come around the back of his head, running your fingers through his hair, taking his lips, and sinking back into the bed. “That’s it,” he whispers, his voice a husk, his praise melting you, making you loose and slack.

Slowly, he guides himself in. Big enough to stretch you open and the sound of your pussy squelching fills your ears, followed by Frank grunting, the grumble spilling into your open mouth.

God, he slips all the way in. Fills you up so full that you cry, stutter a sob, breath caught in the back of your throat. Brain going cloudy, body melting into his.

“You’re so pretty like this,” Frank mutters, slotting his lips over yours, “stuffed with my cock.”

“Oh my God,” you quiver, shaking your head, begging for him to just shut up cause he’s making you lightheaded. He’s so deep inside of you, just staying there, cock twitching, forcing a pout onto your lips as he looks at you, so fucking close.

Like he’s inside of you, consuming you, and sometimes you wish he did. Sometimes you want him to climb inside of your body and take over. Wear you like a fucking puppet.

How do you miss him when he’s right there? On top of you, kissing at your swollen lips and soothing you with his words.

He pushes his hands under your thighs and lifts your hips. The position slides him deeper. Makes his cock push up into you, into that spongy part inside of you that forces your eyes to roll back, your cunt clenching around him so tight that he hisses, groaning deeply. He shakes his head as if he can’t believe it.

“’take me so good baby, s’like you were made for me.” “I was,” you respond because he’s made you honest. In the delirium of him, you’re saying whatever he wants. Saying what you’ve had buried inside of you for so long, waiting for moments like this.

When he slides his dick out, the ridges of him pushing against your walls, then slowwwwlyyy sinks back in, you’re spilling some of those truths.

“It’s true,” you weep, voice whiny and desperate.

Mouth against his, kissing him sloppily, the sound of your pussy taking him filling the room.

“I do sit around and miss you,” you admit, and Frank punctuates the comment by fucking up into you, rolling his hips upwards and god you’re moaning, clutching the back of his head and his face is all fuzzy from your hooded eyes, your mouth still wet with his spit and you give it back to him, tongue sliding into his mouth to take him and take him and take him and, “I’m yours,” you weep.

Frank fucking laughs.

Laughs into your mouth, the sound of it twinged with frenzy.

He shakes his head, “I’ve trained you so god damn well, haven’t I?” and thrusts into you, splitting you open with his cock. The response bursts from your mouth -- “Yes,” you sob, nodding and chewing on your bottom lip. “You just wait here, sitting pretty in our bed until I come home, huh?” “Yes sir,” you agree, and it’s not even like that. Not once has he even hinted that he wanted it like that, but fuck the word just came out. Fell out of your pretty mouth and Frank goes wild with it, groans deep, grunts, Jesus Christ, and starts fucking you faster to thank you. “Is that how you want it?” he asks, his black eyes pouring into yours. Your pussy is still sensitive from coming earlier. Sopping wet, puffy, and swollen from his fingers and now from his cock pushing up into you.

The feeling pulls out more truths, and they’re lined with the high pitch, desperate whines that only come out when he’s fucking you like this.

You shake your head.

“No?” he asks, raising a thick brow.

You giggle, then, and the sweet sound is twisted with a loud groan as his big fingers come down and stuff into your pussy, pushing at your clit. Your body goes white-hot. “How do you want it then baby?” he asks. “I just wanna feel you,” you whisper, so fucked out that you’ve lost your voice. You drag your fingers across the muscles in his upper back, fiddle with his hair and carry on, “wanna feel you come inside of me.” He growls. Growls as if he’s a god damn dog and buries his red face into your shoulder, hiding from you and your effect on him.

It makes you whine, “m’wanna see you, too.”

“Wanna see me,” he mutters to himself, appearing from your shoulder.

Frank reaches back and collects your arms – pushes them behind you, his wide palm locking around your wrists. The movement makes you stutter.

“Look at me then, baby,” he orders.

He’s got you stretched out and open for him – free to be toyed with. Open enough that you feel the cool air on your hot skin. Feel his eyes everywhere, consuming you as he leans back and studies your body. Looks at the swell of your tits, the fabric of your vest stretched beneath them.

The skin at your stomach. Spread of your pussy as his thighs keep you sprawled open. Looks at you with his Black eyes – a god damn demon – wearing that look, animalistic.

“Should take a picture of you like this,” he mumbles. Slowly, he moves his damp fingers upwards, spreading your slick across your lower stomach. “I’ll frame it and put it on my desk.”

The comment fills you with shame because you’re agreeing, nodding your head then hiding it in the crook of your arm.

Whatever he wants. Whatever Frank wants.

“That’s right, sweetheart. S’whatever Frank wants.”

Hadn’t realised you’d said it out loud, but it’s there, now, so you nod.

Nod and nod and nod and say whatever Frank wants Frank gets and he groans, grunts, says, attagirl. My perfect girl. My sweet, sweet girl, lemme make you come again. Want you to come around my fucking cock and he leans down, spreads you open and starts speaking into your neck, fucking you steadily, fingers rolling your clit around in tight, wet circles.

Give it to me sweetheart, you gonna let me have it?

You’re seeing stars.

Vision blurry and white, nothing but the feeling of Frank to ground you. Words tumble out of your mouth, an endless trail of incoherent babble but it must make some sense because Frank responds.

He nods, says, that’s it. Keeps going at his steady, skilled pace. Teeth run over the delicate skin of your throat, and you gasp, clenching around his cock, clenching tight enough that Frank curses. Says, “Shit – god damnit girl.”

Heat pools around your thighs, dialling down to your clit as Frank speeds his fingers up, pushing them into the nerve, forcing you to gush around him.

Tight, neck straining, back arching, and god you can feel it washing over you, feel it coming up, reaching up to come and grab you.

“Frank,” you whine, aching and breathless. It’s just his name. Brain filled up with the five letters.

“Frank, Frank – God.”

Your pussy tightens around his cock like a vice, clenching hard and unyielding and Frank groans, nodding, going, “shit, can fucking feel it.” Everything is pressurised. Eagerly, you push your hips up into his cock, locking your legs around his waist, tightening up like a clam. “God,” you say again, and It comes out as if you’re pleading. “That’s it,” Frank soothes. Kisses you, deep and long, tongue tasting your desperation and you whine around it, skin a live wire. “Don’t stop,” you beg against his damp mouth. “Please don’t stop I’m gonna come baby, I’m gonna—” Frank’s palm comes up and flattens over your mouth.

“Stop talking about it and fucking come then.”

That’s it. He bullies you over the edge with his mean marching order and you weep, nod, eyes rolling back into your head as your clit throbs, spasming, heat flooding over your groin and making you tighten your entire body around him.

Frank fucks you through it. Releases the pressure, his Cock slick with you, white and sopping and everything aches but it feels so god damn good that it doesn’t matter.

He’s hovering, inches away from your face -- watching you through wild eyes. “Shit,” he groans as your pussy carries on clenching around his cock, the feeling not stopping.

It bleeds through your subconscious; makes you babble against his palm. Frank looks at where your bodies join, at where he’s pushed deep into your pussy. “Jesus christ--” he drags, “look at you, milking my god damn cock.”

When he pulls his hand away from your mouth, your sobs fill the room. Echo against the walls. A choking gasp muddled with his name.

“Thank you,” you tremble, body shaking with the come down. “Oh my fucking God, thank you.”

He lets go of your hands, too, letting them come around to cradle the back of his head. He shakes it, face sincere, slowing his movements to let you catch up. Come back down to earth. “I haven’t even given you what you wanted yet, baby. I still gotta come inside.”

Coming has had you lightheaded. Has made your brain fuzzy and static, so you giggle, dragging Frank’s mouth back to yours. He makes a pleased sound, “that okay with you sweetheart?” he mumbles.

You push your hips up into him, whimpering from the sensitivity.

“s’whatever Frank wants, remember?” you whisper.

Frank grins, “Damn straight.”

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle smut #frank castle x reader smut #Jon Bernthal #jon bernthal x reader #jon bernthal smut #frank castle x you #frank castle x you smut #frank castle x female! reader #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x female reader smut #the punisher #the punisher smut

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jaegeraether · 4 months

Text

Sunsets and footballers (Part 36)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (34)

Masterlist (other parts here)

YFN enjoyed her morning and flight back, still trying to comprehend what was happening. She’d wished she had time to go through Edinburgh itself but had been swamped all morning with emails relating to the expansion of staff. Lumos management were also a lot more vocal with her now that they’d all met and decided she should be directly involved with their meetings and decisions.

Once she’d landed, she’d Ubered to her and Jordan’s house to pick up Miles and give Blu a pat before she drove to the conference room in town. She’d arrived just after midday and was delightfully pleased to see the entire team was already there with canapes just working and bantering away. She greeted them all as she entered and as she walked to her seat, she realised there were a large bunch of flowers sitting in her space. She was a little confused. Was this from Catherine? From the team for the first round? From the hotel the conference room was in? She looked around for an explanation and only received a few grins in response. She gently touched one of her flowers and leant in to smell them before taking the card out of the top.

Hi little one,

Well done on your first round of women’s football!

I’m so proud of you, always, in everything that you do.

I can’t wait to see you soon in Spain.

I love you.

Lucy x

She blushed as her heart fluttered, again finding a few of those grins, yet now they were teasing. She didn’t mind being teased for it. She was proud of her relationship with Lucy. She moved the flowers more central in the table and took her seat, setting up her laptop and notes before sending a quick photo and text to Lucy.

She knew they had a lot to cover and made sure to text Jordan, asking for a heads up when she was headed home. She wanted to be there for her. She put her phone on the table and they began. They spoke about the first round, each team member talking about their experiences and ideas. They spoke about the interviews, the posts, the equipment, all of it. When they were done, YFN made sure they were all comfortable and confident with their roles and then dropped the bombshell. They were expanding. Already. She told them how happy and ambitious management were. They’d expanded from ten including YFN to fifty. This was a shock to everyone of course, however YFN managed to ease them.

“Fifty?!” Ruby almost yelled. “How much money does this company have?!”

“The company has a lot of faith in us…and they were very impressed with the first round.”

“But that’s mainly because your interviews were amazing…” Ethan countered.

“No, we all did amazing work.” Bridget disagreed.

“Fifty sounds like a lot, but it really isn’t,” she assured. “We have six games a week. Fifty is our new number so that we can have three videographers, three photographers, one editor and one interviewer per game. That’s forty-eight people. The extras will be Noel for IT as our posting and editing becomes even more sizeable, and myself.”

They thought this was definitely a lot more reasonable when it was put like that.

“Management are throwing money into us to not only expedite the process of growth, but to make sure we’re training and preparing for the international fixtures as well,” she explained. “We won’t just be doing WSL the entire time. Plus, there are the other leagues in Europe, and the other minor leagues in the UK.”

“But the training…” Emily almost whispered.

YFN nodded, running a hand through her hair a little stressed. “Oh, trust me, I know. We need to be fully prepped and confident for our games so we make the mistakes in practise rather than onsite.”

“Prior planning prevents piss poor performance.” Sam quoted.

“Exactly and I have a plan for that. Now we’re all new here but we’ve all been in the field, we’ve researched and prepped and decided on how to best create a product that suits our brand image. It’s because of this that my plan is to have you all in supervisory roles for the new team coming in. The new hires will arrive next Tuesday which gives us time to prep with them prior to our third round. I’ll put you into game groups and you can work together to prep during the week, with this group supervising each game group and taking a bit more responsibility. Teach them what you’ve learnt. Next week is going to be a long week, but we can do it. I’ll expect progress reports also as I can’t monitor fifty people. If someone is excelling, or not quite up to scratch, I expect to be told so we can sort it out prior to our game. Also…” she looked around the conference room. “…we’ve just acquired an office space in London. I understand that not everyone will live there, and I just want to state that when we’re up and running more comfortably, the people who live further away will be able to zoom our meetings instead if they choose. In the meantime, we’ll continue with our face to face meetings, though don’t neglect yourselves. If it becomes too hard to travel; let me know. We’re going to have enough people to cover each other, it’s okay.”

The rest of the meeting was fairly better as YFN had decided they would only start to worry about the new hires later on. Right now, it was about prepping for the next games.

Their schedule set out for the upcoming week was as such:

Man United vs West Ham (Leigh Sports Village, Manchester): 12th Nov 1200 – YFN and Ruby.

Spurs vs Liverpool (Brisbane Road, London): 12th Nov 1230 – Sam and Olivia.

Everton vs Chelsea (Walton Hall Park, Liverpool): 12th Nov 1300 – Ethan and Daniel.

Man City vs Brighton (Joie Stadium, Manchester): 12th Nov 1300 – Bridget and Emily.

Bristol vs Aston Villa (Ashton Gate Stadium, Bristol): 12th Nov 1400 – Matt and Noel.

Leicester vs Arsenal (King Power Stadium, Leicester): 12th Nov 1845 – YFN and Ruby (relocate from United vs West Ham); Matt (relocate from Bristol vs Aston Villa in Bristol est arrival: 1900).

The scheduling was tight because all of the games were on the same day, and she needed to be carefully logistically to make sure she didn’t have people driving out of their way unnecessarily. Luckily, Matt lived in Birmingham and would be able to get to the Leicester vs Arsenal game for YFN to get some good interviews of the players, one she was hoping would be Kyra and Courtney.

Before she knew it, the clock had ticked over to 5pm and Jordan had messaged.

Dory: Training just finished. I’ll be home in 20.

YFN: I’m coming. I’ll get take-away for us. What would you like, Dory?

Dory: Anything I’m not supposed to eat.

YFN: You’re amazing. See you at home soon, roomie x

YFN walked through the front door, pizza in one hand and flowers tucked under the other arm, her work bag slung over her shoulder. Regardless of this, Jordan was on her from the moment she opened the door, wrapping arms around YFN’s waist. After a cute little hug, YFN spoke when she felt Jordan getting emotional.

“Okay, firstly, I love you. Secondly, we’re eating before we talk. We need to get this comfort food into you before it goes cold.”

They settled onto the couch and devoured the pizza quickly, having to snatch it away from Blu at times. Then, Jordan spoke.

“I’m so embarrassed.”

“Why? For having sex with someone you love? Someone who knows you and loves you too?”

“I guess it does sound better when you say it like that…”

“What happened? Tell me everything.”

Jordan sighed. “We dropped you off and came back home. We didn’t speak much in the car. She put her hand on my thigh, but I think it was more of a reassurance thing than a sexual thing. Then we spoke when we got home. I did exactly what you said, I sat far away so I wouldn’t be tempted by anything. She said the nicest things, YFN.” Jordan began to cry. “How much she loved me and missed me and how badly she’d screwed up. I couldn’t help myself, I cried and I couldn’t stop. I tried to hold it together. She comforted me and…” She put her hand on the back of the couch, presumably where they’d been sitting.

“Did you have sex right here?”

Jordan’s tears paused as she gave a cheeky, embarrassed smile.

“Ooookay I’m going to pretend I didn’t ask.” She reached out and brushed some of Jordan’s tears away. “Was it…bad?”

“No,” she admitted. “No, it was incredible. Probably the best sex I’ve had in my life. It was so desperate and passionate. I don’t know what happened, I missed her touch, I just melted.”

“Ah…and you cried after it?”

“No, I cried during it. It felt so good and to have her back so close to me. I missed her so much, YFN. I think after we’d been…doing it a while…the lust faded a little, and I just got scared. Scared that she made me feel so happy, made me feel so loved and then I got scared she’d leave again. I panicked and cried. She didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what to do. I told her to go.”

“She tried to stay?”

“Yeah of course but I was just a mess, I needed to be alone.”

YFN hesitated. “You pushed her away before she could leave you…”

“Is that what I did?” She whispered.

“Oh Dory, come here.” YFN pulled Jordan into her lap and wrapped her arms around her, stroking her supportively. YFN and Jordan were both very, very affectionate people, especially physically.

“I don’t know if I can trust her again. I th…thought I c…could.” Her crying increased and she clung to the front of YFN’s shirt.

“Did you tell her why you wanted her to go?”

“That’s the worst part…she begged me to stay. She was on her knees at one point. On her ACL torn knee…but I couldn’t look at her. I wanted her to go. I knew she had a long drive back to London. I knew it was late. I still kicked her out.” She shook her head. “She begged me all the way out of the door to explain what was happening. I just remember telling her, “I can’t handle you leaving me again.””

YFN’s stomach dropped for Leah. She finally got close to Jordan again. Close enough for sex. For intimacy. She must have been so happy…and in a split second it was all taken away from her because of that insecurity she’d planted in Jordan with her previous mistake.

“It’s okay…it’s okay. Leah will understand, trust me. Has she messaged you?”

Jordan nodded into her. “She’s sent me multiple messages since.”

“And have your feelings changed?”

“That fear of her leaving? It’s not going away anytime soon.”

“I think she needs to win your trust back. You two made a mistake by diving into sex.”

“I know,” she whispered quietly. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“You need to let her know that if she wants you, she needs to build that trust back. She needs to know that it may take a long time but it’ll be worth it because she’ll get to have you back.”

Jordan nodded. “You’re right…”

“If I’ve learnt anything over the past few days it’s that communication is key…”

“I just need a little space.”

“Okay…look, I’ll be at the Arsenal game on Sunday in Leicester. I’ll talk to her if you want? Explain a little…”

“I think that’s for the best.”

“Okay, I think you should message her asking for your space for the moment.”

“Can you do it?”

“I think this one is best coming from you, Jords.”

She sighed but took her phone out and texted Leah without reading the messages the other woman had sent her.

“You won’t be at the Aston Villa game this week?”

YFN shook her head. “No, I’ll be covering Untied vs West Ham and then Leicester vs Arsenal.”

“But aren’t you going to Spain?”

She ran a hand through her hair. “Yeah…I was planning on going Friday. Lucy has a game Saturday and then I’d fly back for the Sunday games.”

“You’re not staying for long, then? Lucy’s going to be upset.”

“I know,” she sighed. “I know, I planned on doing zoom for my meetings next week, but we’ve just expanded our employees by five hundred percent.”

“What the-”

“Oh, please don’t ask anything. I’m stressed and besides, tonight is all you, Jords. I think a phone call with Lucy and then with Katie and Caitlin may be just what you need, hm?”

Jordan agreed. “Yes, please! I’ll get rid of this rubbish and get us drinks while you message them.”

YFN opened her phone, hovering her finger above Lucy’s message before she remembered their phone call from last night. She bit her lip as she opened Instagram. Sure enough, the first posts were of Lucy boxing and YFN could feel her skin getting hot, and she squirmed as she also felt herself getting wet for her. God damn. Lucy. Those biceps. Lucy. That determined look. Lucy. She groaned.

“You okay?” Jordan asked from the kitchen.

“Yeah!” She called back and liked the post. She considered commenting and decided against that. She was worried how forward she would be in front of Lucy’s 750k followers.

YFN: Hey Luce, are you free for a call with Dory?

Lucy: Hi, little one. I’ve been waiting for your text. I smile when your name pops up on my phone. Yes, I’m free whenever you want me.

YFN: I always want you. And you’re always busy.

Lucy: Lies.

Jordan passed her a drink over the couch and she took a sip.

Lucy: Come to Spain and fuck the busy out of me.

She choked on her drink. Jordan gave her a look before she rolled her eyes as she made her own drink.

YFN: Behave. I’m barely hanging on with your Instagram posts.

Lucy: I hoped you’d like them…can we have a late-night call tonight when you’re free?

YFN: Yes, please.

It’s crazy how naturally they fell into teasing each other. She sent another message to the messenger with Katie, Caitlin and Jordan.

YFN: Hi! Are you all free for a group call with Dory and I in the next hour or so?

Caitlin: KEEN.

Katie: Only if we see your faces.

YFN: Done. I’ll message you soon!

Jordan joined her on the couch then and she called Lucy, giving Jordan the phone. Obviously, Jordan had Lucy’s number, but this was more convenient. She watched as the two old friends spoke, Lucy not failing to make Jordan grin and laugh. Of course she could. At one point they were even speaking about her, and YFN rolled her eyes, working a little on her laptop while they had their talk.

Their talk ended after about forty minutes, Jordan hanging up before YFN could talk to Lucy. She frowned. Lucy immediately texted.

Lucy: Call me in bed?

YFN: Okay, I’ll be about an hour, love. Thank you for that, she really needed it. You managed to cheer her up a lot.

Lucy: I know her too well. You’re welcome, though. Talk soon. x

YFN messaged the girls back then telling them to call whenever they were free. Apparently, that was immediately. Jordan and YFN on one end, Katie and Caitlin on the other. It was a hilarious conversation after Jordan had been honest about what happened with Leah to them. They’d given her support and told her to take her time which reassured her a little bit more. Katie had changed the mood of the conversation after that by introducing Coopurr by holding the cat up to the camera. Jordan responded in kind with Blu, of course. Then Caitlin surprised her fellow Australian with a question.

“Hey chicken, do you know what’s happening with Kyra? She’s been a bit off and we figured you might know…”

YFN hesitated. She didn’t want to keep anything from them, but knew it wasn’t her place. “Uh…yeah…it’s not really my place to say though…”

Katie turned to Caitlin. “I told you.”

“You were right,” Caitlin rasped. “It’s about Courtney then.”

They watched as YFN practically glued her mouth shut. Of course they knew. Courtney was a Matilda. Caitlin was a Matilda.

“Is that why you’re coming to our game now?”

“Oh, that's right! You two were so obvious when Kyra asked what game you were going to.”

“Mmnhmn. Yeah, look, all I can say is that I plan on interviewing them together. We’re going to start interviewing players in groups more, and also interviewing opposition together. So this weekend I’ll do a young interview with those two if I can catch Courtney, and then I’ll do an-”

“An old person interview? Rude.” Caitlin laughed.

YFN rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, we’re happy to do an interview with you, but I assume you want someone you haven’t talked to yet?”

“Yeah, you know, I was thinking Kim or…” She stopped herself as she looked at Jordan.

Jordan frowned. Leah. There was a moment of silence.

“That’s okay, you know.” Jordan reassured. YFN gave a grateful smile.

“…or Jen Beattie?”

“Are you in those little sleeping shorts of yours?” Lucy asked.

“Yes,” she almost whispered.

Lucy hummed. “Good. Take them off.”

YFN did as she was told, wriggling them off and turning back to her phone propped up against Lucy’s pillow.

“Shirt too.”

She pulled her shirt off, now fully bare beneath the sheets besides her socks. Lucy knew she loved her socks, though.

“I wish you could understand how much I want you right now.” She said a little exasperated.

“Tell me…” She whispered, looking at Lucy through the camera. She allowed herself to begin playing with one of her nipples and Lucy noticed, groaning.

“If you could feel between my thighs, you’d know just how much I miss you.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you…I can’t seem to get you out of my mind.”

“Good.” She said almost harshly. “That’s where I belong. Inside your mind. Inside you. Now I need you to touch yourself. I need your hands to do what I wish mine were right now.”

“Guide me where you want me, Luce.”

“Put your free hand around your throat. Good girl. Squeeze a little. Argh…yes. You like that, hm? Two days and that’ll be my hand.”

“God I need you, Luce.”

“I have no idea how I didn’t fuck you silly the other night.”

“Because you love me,” she whispered, her hand moving down over her body and under the sheets. She knew Lucy would enjoy that visual.

“Did I tell you to do that?”

YFN paused. “No…”

“Hm.”

“Can I…?” She trailed off as she saw Lucy’s darkened eyes through the screen.

“Use your words, love.”

“Can I touch myself?”

“Yes, but don’t go inside. Not yet.”

She felt through the wetness of her body, not realising just how ready she was. She was tempted to slip a finger in, but Lucy told her she couldn’t just yet, and so she didn’t. Her fingers found her little bundle of nerves and began to play.

“That’s my girl,” Lucy groaned. “T…that’s my girl. Feel that.”

Lucy stuttering a little was proof to her that she was also touching herself. Her eyes rolled back at the thought and her body was twitching and getting tingly at the stimulation of her clit. They worked themselves up like that for a while, both moaning and shakily breathing. Hearing Lucy losing control was one of her favourite things. She just wished she were right there, rather than across a phone.

“Luce, c…can I go inside?”

“Tell me who you belong to.”

She bit her lip and her back arched at the question, her fingers speeding up. She whimpered. “You, Luce. I belong to you.”

“Yes, you do. Don’t you ever fucking forget that. Two fingers inside, now.”

YFN eagerly thrust two fingers inside herself, her body jerking and her legs automatically widening.

“I want to hear you.”

YFN released one of her nipples to drag the phone down and place it on her left thigh. She could hear Lucy groaning from the other end. She threw the sheet off so she could hear her better.

“God, you have no idea what you do to me,” she repeated. “I’m so lucky to have you.”

“I’m yours, Luce. And I…I’m the l…lucky one.” She had no idea how she managed to get the sentence out. She was so wound up, her body arched into her hand, hips automatically thrusting against her fingers.

“I want you to come like this, fucking yourself. Don't move the phone, I want to hear it.”

YFN did as she was told, and sped up her assault, her body becoming a shaky, uncontrolled mess. It didn’t take long for her to get right to that edge, and she could hear Lucy getting closer. Lucy wasn’t very vocal, that was something they were still working on, however her moaning and panting betrayed her. She was close. She just needed to be tipped over the edge. So YFN gave her that.

“Arghh…Luce…Lucy…can I come?”

She knew asking permission would be Lucy’s last straw.

“Y…yes,” she gasped. “Come.”

YFN sped up her efforts once more as her body unfolded and that electric shock of ecstasy shocked her body into a tense spasm. She heard Lucy whimpering on the other end of the phone and that just made it last longer.

She let herself come down and reached for a tissue near the bed to wipe herself clean. She took the phone and put it back up near her face as she rolled to the side and looked at her girlfriend. Lucy pushed the glasses up her nose, giving a satiated grin. She couldn’t help but return her own.

“This is becoming a regular thing for us.” YFN said.

“I need this just to be able to think during the day about something other than fucking you.”

“Ah, but I thought you liked thinking about me.”

Lucy laughed incredulously. “Yes, but I also have a profession I should be thinking about. Mapi managed to kick a ball into me today while I was zoned out thinking about how good you look under me.”

The visual was hilarious. “You’re insatiable.”

“It’s never been a problem until you. I feel like I’m losing a battle of urges.”

“Keep talking, please, you’re making me feel very loved right now.”

Lucy laughed and YFN continued. “But if it’s any consolation, I also can’t stop thinking about you. The one time I managed to not, was when I was walking into my meeting but then I saw your flowers…”

Lucy grinned. “You liked them? I thought it’d be romantic.”

“Oh, it was. And just so you know, your surprise will be there tomorrow also.”

Lucy’s eyes widened with excitement. “You sent me something?!”

“Last night. I just wanted you to know that I sent it BEFORE I received your flowers.”

“Who’s the romantic one, now?”

“You, always you. I may be a romantic, but I’ll never have anything on you, Luce.”

#woso #womens football #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso soccer #jordan nobbs #lucy bronze #lucy bronze x reader #engwnt #lionesses #woso x reader #lucy bronze imagine #leah williamson

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the-queen-of-hell-666 · 7 months

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Sharing

Kinktober 2023 - Day 1

Pairing: Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Drummer!Steve Harrington x Groupie!Fem!Reader

Kink: Semi-Public

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: Eddie and Steve have a last show tradition and you're the lucky audience member.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (nipple play, teasing on all three parts, making out, hickies, throat fucking, oral sex (m! receiving), protected sex (they wrapped it before they tapped it), riding, double penetration (mouth & vagina), vaginal sex, semi-public sex), flirting, bra throwing, no panties, rough!Eddie, soft!Steve

a/n: Here is Day 1 of Kinktober! It's the first thing I've written in a while so I hope it's good!

Banners by @vase-of-lilies

This was their last day of tour and per tradition, they would choose one front row audience member to bring to the green room, and usually Steve and Eddie would give her or him the time of their life. You had been coming to Corroded Coffin’s gigs for a year since your ex-boyfriend was obsessed with them but halfway through their tour, your boyfriend left you for some chick that was working with the band. You were pissed and heartbroken and just wanted to get a plane ride home so you could wallow but then you locked eyes with the lead guitarist, Eddie Munson, and you had melted. He was one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen. His drummer, Steve, also made you melt when he tore off his shirt showing off his fuzzy chest and he was drenched in sweat. It made you want to let them do anything to you.

So there you were at their last show of the tour and you had scored first row tickets and you were front and center to Eddie. You two made eye contact the entire time and the tenison was brewing as you unhooked your lace bra and pulled it off before throwing it to Eddie who caught it with a blinding smirk and hung it from his wrist. You wore a cropped band shirt with a pair of black jean shorts, lace thigh highs, and a dark makeup look to complete the outfit. Eddie thought you looked like someone straight out of one of his wet dreams and he threw a look over at Steve and they knew that you would be going backstage with them.

The show had ended with one of their covers of Master of Puppets by Metallica and they had cleared the stage and you made your way through the crowd to the bar onsite of the venue and you sat on the stool on the edge and ordered yourself a beer. You sipped it as you saw Eddie strut up to you and lean against the bar with your bra still hanging off his wrist and he locked eyes with you.

“Hey, sweetheart. Loved the souvenir.” Eddie purred and ordered himself a beer as well and you smirked at him.

“I mean, I’ve bought enough of your souvenirs, figured you could use one.” You giggled as you scooted over to him. “And I heard that you liked lace.” You winked and Eddie smirked as his ringed hands slid onto your thighs and gripped your soft flesh gently. Your body broke out in goosebumps at the cool metal of his rings and you purred softly and placed your hands on his shoulders and moved your hands up to the nape of his neck and combed through the soft hair there.

He smirked and leaned into your touch, “Well, I do like lace and I can’t wait to find out what other lace is under these little shorts of yours.” He hummed and you purred and leaned up to his ear.

“You won’t find any under them.” You whispered in his ear and a wolfy grin spread across his lips and he picked you up and tossed you over his shoulder making you squeal and giggle. He carried you to the green room and kicked open the door to reveal Steve and the rest of the band. You blushed as Eddie continued to carry you to the couch and plopped you down next to Steve.

Eddie had you introduce yourself to the group and Steve smirked down at you as you looked up at him and he pulled your legs over his. His strong hands teased up your thighs and you leaned over to cup his cheek and kiss him passionately and messily. He growled against your lips making you smirk against them and he yanked you onto his lap. The rest of the band watched a bit as you and Steve made out but they turned away to continue talking and Eddie walked over and sat next to you two and brushed your hair over your shoulder and kissed on your exposed skin.

“This okay, babygirl?” Steve whispered against your lips and you pulled away to run your fingers up his chest.

“Honey, if I didn’t want this, I wouldn't be sucking face with you.” You chuckled and tangled your fingers in his hair and yanked him down to kiss him passionately and his hands fumbled to get your shorts undone. Eddie’s hands slide up your waist from behind to cup your breasts under your shirt as Steve’s hand slipped into your shorts and growled against your lips as he felt your bare cunt.

You gasped as Steve’s calloused thumb circled your clit and moved down to collect your wetness and bring it back to your clit. You moaned against his lips as his fingers played with your bud and Eddie kissed on your neck leaving dark marks on your skin. His skilled fingers pinched and played with your nipples creating stiff peaks under his large palms. Steve quickly yanked your shorts off as your hands undid his pants and pulled his hard cock out of his pants and boxers and gave him slow, teasing strokes, making him groan against your lips.

You pulled back to look down at him, panting softly. “Condom?” You hummed and he nodded before grabbing his wallet and pulled one out. You took it from him and ripped it open with your teeth and smashed your lips against his as you slid the condom down his cock.

“God, babygirl. You’re a fucking dream.” Steve hummed against your lips as you stroked him slowly, lining his cock up to your hole.

You smirked at his statement, “This is my dream.” You purred as you slid down on his cock and you threw your head back as his thick cock stretched you out and he bottomed out in you. He groaned and leaned down to latch onto your neck and you heard the clinking of a belt buckle and looked up to see Eddie’s firm length hovering over your face making you purr and you smirked up at him. “Eager are we?”

Eddie chuckled lowly as he tapped the tip of his cock against your lips, “You have no idea.” He smirked and you opened your mouth for him and he slowly slid his cock into your mouth. You hummed around him as you licked up the shaft of him and suckled at the tip gently as Steve started moving your hip up and down making you moan around Eddie’s cock.

Your knees pressed into the couch cushions as your hips moved up and down on Steve’s cock as his lips marked your neck and down to your chest and he pushed your shirt up to reveal your breasts to him. He smirked as he leaned down to suck on each breast leaving dark marks on your skin. You moaned loudly around Eddie’s cock but it was muffled with only whimpers leaving your lips from around his cock. You felt the coil in your belly tighten quickly as Steve moved your hips faster and his calloused thumb rubbed tight circles on your clit as Eddie slid his cock down your throat making you choke a bit. Tears welled in your eyes and you pulled off his cock with a small cough but you sucked at the tip and spat on the tip before bringing your hand up to stroke his cock slowly and your lips wrapped back around the head. Eddie groaned and ran a hand through his hair and he cupped your cheek with a smirk.

“Such a good fucking girl. Isn’t she, Stevie?” Eddie smirked as he looked down at Steve who was lost in his own world of pleasure as your cunt squeezed him. Steve looked up at Eddie with a matching smirk.

“Hell yeah. Squeezing me like a vice. She’s close.” He smirked as he pinched your clit making you squeak and jolt as Steve moved back to bite on your neck.

You moaned as Steve’s hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you close to his chest. Eddie tangled his hand in your hair and thrusted deep in your throat making you choke but clench around Steve. You felt the coil tighten then Steve bit down on a sensitive spot on your neck and pinched your clit and you cried out as the coil snapped and you came. Your hips grinded on Steve’s cock, moaning around Eddie’s cock and Steve groaned as he felt you cum and thrusted his cock deep into you as he came hard, spurting cum into the condom, moaning your name against the soft skin of your neck.

After you two came down from your orgasms, Eddie yanked you off of Steve and slumped on the couch with you on his lap and he leaned down to kiss you passionately while he whispered, “My turn.”

#fanfiction #fanfic #fandom #steve harrington #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fandom #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem reader #steddie x you #steddie x reader

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lemmetreatya · 1 year

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head builder!polnareff whos serious about his job and makes sure his men’s work ethic is top-par. head builder!polnareff who treats all his clients with utmost respect unless it’s you. head builder!polnareff who wolf-whistles at you once you pass by underneath the scaffolding of the new build. head builder!polnareff who yelps and hollers for you to “give him some eye candy” despite him knowing you’re the site manager. head builder!polnareff who confuses the other builders about why usually stoic and serious you is so lenient with the man.

head builder!polnareff who you light heartedly flip off from below because he’s normally a crass man — which you know — he’s been one of your most stable and reliable construction contractor for years. but one day you buy head builder!polnareff up on that offer as he pops his into your portable onsite office to piss you off.

“merde!…”

head builder!polnareff would be a spluttering mess as you kneel onto your office floor behind your desk and slowly run your mouth up and down the shaft of his cock. head builder!polnareff would have one hand cupping your cheek whilst his other arm lays over his eyes.

just as head builder!polnareff is about to cum, one of his men walk in to ask where you are, something about clearing off time. head builder!polnareff; with his face beet red and clearly dishevelled tries his best to act natural — despite unnaturally sitting in your office chair and looking like he was about to explode. but as you continue to suck at his cock whilst also massaging at his balls, head builder!polnareff is unable to contain his orgasm from pushing over him.

“t-t-t-t-they said they’ll— fuck!”

head builder!polnareff thrashes himself face forwards onto your desk as he cums down the canals of your throat, a suppressed groan leaving his mouth as tries his best to shoo off the builder who’s highly concerned for his sudden reaction.

#jean pierre polnareff #polnareff #polnareff x reader #polnareff x black reader #polnareff x gn reader #polnareff x gender neutral reader #jjba smut #jjba x black reader #jjba x reader #jjba x male reader #jjba scenarios #jjba imagines #jjba imagine #jjba fanfic #jojos bizarre adventure #jjba

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transzilla · 1 month

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You met me over grindr while I was in the city for a one night stand and for some reason we kept in touch, some glow around me that you really liked. Your living situation is a little crowded so we figured we would hook up in an empty bulldozer at a construction site at night. I work at a fire tower in the mountains and I really like other trans men but due to the geography haven't found anybody to stick around, so I tend to get around quite a bit when in the city.

Your living situation is tough. You've tried to go on hormones, or blockers, but keep being shamed and rejected and getting pressured out of it by distant family members or chaser-y roommates. You have no room to grow. You're fucking miserable. You contemplate offing yourself, guiltily, but quickly shoo the thought away considering you have a roof over your head and no real reason to be sad.

We text obsessively. I'm lonely out there, stealth trans in the middle of nowhere, and whenever I have service we text, call, vent, joke, bust balls, tell each other all our deepest, darkest secrets. They're looking to hire another lookout, my coworker retired. It requires you to live onsite and they provide housing without taking it out of your paycheck. I sympathize with your situation, I tell you you'd do well in this position, I'll put in a good word for you with the forest service, you should apply. Get you out of that glorified pig sty and somewhere with fresh air where you can finally breathe.

You get the job, make a fucking decision and leave everything behind to come work with me. We reunite, get drunk, get you accustomed to your new life. You talk to very few people and nobody seems to clock you as trans anyway. Your daily work is hard and manual but refreshing compared to customer service. You let me rail you every night, your food is taken care of, you're reading and working out and getting your back blown out on the clock.

Sometimes it feels like I make you do everything I'm supposed to do, I seem to enjoy watching you sweat and lift heavy things and slack on my work. I have a ton of testosterone that I share a little too excitedly with you and it doesnt look prescription, in small brown vials with blue caps, some of them are labelled cypionate but also proprionate, enthonate, undecanoate, demonic incantations you've never seen before in your life. And I'm real weird about always doing your injection for you. I stab it in so fast and it looks violent but it doesn't feel as bad when you do it, but the way I make eye contact and hold the needle in my teeth while I do my own injection is a little off putting. I'm constantly pushing you, nothing you ever do is good enough for me, all of my fetishes while we're fucking seem to entail you doing push ups naked, squats, bending over and letting me examine you, your legs getting so sore after im making you ride it, letting me squeeze your tits and feeling your pec underneath the breast. I smoke a pack a day and pressure you into joining me, complimenting you on how raspy and fucked up your voice sounds.

You have doubts. You aren't able to call your friends as often as you thought you would. When you talk to people you've been isolated so long you talk over them garishly, talk all about yourself, make too many dirty jokes and swear too much the way we talk to each other, awkward and unfit for civilized society. All you have is me and you have no choice but to trust that I have your best intentions in mind.

You let me teach you how to use a shotgun the salty perfume of the gunpowder staining your hands as your aim gets better and better, your guard lowering the more I've been praising you for doing what I want. We went hunting and you shot your first deer. I was so excited and you were so validated by how proud I was, it felt like a big hug from the inside out. You send a picture of the field dressed deer to your old city friends, guts steaming in the morning sun. they're absolutely disgusted by the fact that you would do such a thing and show them. You're a fucking machine of a man now and you're able to tame the wilderness everywhere except for in yourself.

After months you plain don't recognize yourself in the mirror. Your hair is wild, your facial hair not just a few long pubes jealously untouched on your chin but a uniform patchy stubble shaved haphazardly when you were tired of it being singed when you did fight fires. Knuckles scarred, shoulders broad, the gross muscle you feared you would develop rippling like a tiger under your skin and the extra weight you've gained. You talk like I do, you act like I do, you think like I do, you can't tell where you stop and I start. Your reflection looks sleepless, disordered, lost, a thuggish stranger. Heartless man.

#forcemasc #autoandrophilia #this is also primal ish i think #forced masculinization

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thebeast-dennis-etcetera · 2 months

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An Unlikely Pair

Your knee bounced up and down in nervousness as you waited for news in the little lobby. A little trembling chihuahua was on the left of you and a 3 legged Dalmatian on your right. It seemed to be a busy day for sure at the clinic as even more clients started coming in.

“Y/N?” the vet tech called from the door. You stood up and followed her as she led you to another little room where the vet and the little kitten you found this morning waited.

“How is she?” you asked. When you had dropped her off, she was absolutely filthy, barely breathing and couldn’t open her eyes. Had you not decided to go for a run this morning, you never would’ve found her. You figured some horrible person must have abandoned her there. Now, she looked completely different. Her bright fluffy orange coat was clean and her green eyes were alert.

“She’s good now. Just needed a good bath, warmth and a little food. She’s got a couple scratches on her face but those will heal with time. You said you found her in a park?”

“Yeah. I took a morning run and heard meowing from the bushes. She was tucked all the way in the back, I honestly thought she wasn’t gonna make it.”

“Well cats are pretty resilient. Were you planning on keeping her?”

You thought about the question and knew the dilemma. Jethro was not a cat guy. He loves dogs, doesn’t mind plants, but definitely doesn’t like cats. But if you didn’t take her, she would just end up at the shelter.

“We do have an onsite shelt-

“No, I’ll keep her,” you impulsively blurted out.

Crap, Jethros gonna kill you.

————

You sat on the couch watching tv when you heard Jethro come home. Quickly, you threw the blanket over the kitten in your lap.

“Hey hun. Dinners in the oven, you just gotta heat it up.”

He came over and gave you a kiss before going into the kitchen and preparing his food. Upset that she was being smothered, she let out a small meow. You just turned up the volume slightly on the tv. You at least wanted Jethro to eat before you broke the news to him.

Once he heated everything up and sat at the table to eat, the kitten let out another meow.

“What was that?” he asked, looking around.

“The tv,” you lied smoothly.

Thankfully, the kitten decided not to make any more noise while Jethro finished eating and cleaned his plate.

“So you’ll never believe how my day has been going,” you started. “I was going for a morning run because I wanted to see if I could beat my personal best, which by the way, I’ve come to the conclusion that I could probably beat Torres in a foot pursuit. And as I passed by that park over on Downey St, I heard something crying.”

Jethro stood in front of you, drying his hands with the kitchen towel, attention now fully on you as he listened, making you nervous.

“Normally I wouldn’t investigate a weird noise at the park, especially because you could find a person sleeping in the bushes or some rabid raccoon, or-

“Sweetheart, you’re rambling. What did you find?” he pressed, wanting to speed the conversation up.

Instead of explaining, you just pulled the blanket back and showed him the little ball of fur. She looked around before seeing Jethro and pulled her ears back in displeasure before giving him a tiny hiss.

“No,” was all he said before walking off to the bedroom. You put the kitten down on the couch and followed him.

“Honey wait. I know you dont like cats but this one is so cute. And I rescued her. I couldn’t just leave her there to die. And I couldn’t give her away to the shelter. Who knows if she ever would’ve found a home.”

He stopped at the stairs and turned to you.

“She’s already up to date on vaccines, the litter box will be in the laundry room, and she’s so tiny you won’t even know she’s there. Please Jet,” you pleaded.

He sighed and you knew right then, you already won.

“If she scratches up anything, she’s out,” he threatened.

You beamed with joy and wrapped your arms around his neck in a hug.

“You’ll come to love her, you’ll see.”

————

It was a love/hate relationship between the little orange cat and Jethro. Mostly because every time Jethro tried to get close to her or you, she would give him a swat and hiss. She loved messing with him and knocking all of his stuff off the shelves when he accidentally left the basement door open. There has been multiple times that he’s had to pick up broken jars fulls of bolts and nuts off the floor. The only love part of the relationship is for you when he sees how happy she makes you.

The sound of Jethros heavy footsteps coming up the stairs woke you up from your sleep. Looking at your phone, the time read 2am. You didn’t move from your spot as he came in quietly and got changed.

“You’re gonna have to move your little gargoyle out of the way,” you heard him grumble after a minute. Smiling, you turned on your side and saw your kitten giving Jethro a glare that might equal his own.

“Just tell her to move hun.”

“She doesn’t listen. Something you two have in common.”

Rolling your eyes playfully, you picked up irritated kitten and brought her to the other side of the bed so Jethro could get in.

————

Pulling into your driveway, you parked right behind Jethro’s truck and made your way to the house. As you opened the door, you were greeted with a little bouquet of flowers and a little note that read Welcome Home. You smiled at his sloppy writing and figured he was down in the basement building that boat of his, so you dropped your bags by the couch and walked downstairs.

What you saw, you weren’t expecting at all. Jethro was busy vice gripping different parts of the boat while his furry nemesis laid lazily on top, watching him curiously.

“How was your mother’s?” he asked, grabbing a tool right next to your kitten who didn’t even make a move to swat or hiss at him.

“Uh, it was nice. Got to see Dad’s newest addition to his pocket watch collection.”

He chuckled as you walked over and gave him a long hug.

“When did you two become friends?” you inquired, pulling back and motioning towards the small feline.

“She climbed the living room curtains and got stuck. Ever since I helped her, she won’t leave me alone,” he explained.

“Awe, she connected with you. You’re her savior honey,” you teased, watching as Jethro reached out to pet her and she accepted it happily while purring.

“Yeah well next time she decides to use our curtains as a vine, I’m not saving her.”

You laughed and gave him a kiss. You knew sooner or later, he would warm up to her.

Note: I purposely didn’t give the cat a name because I wanted to leave that up to the reader but gave it a color because I just feel like Gibbs and orange tabbys have the same vibe. 😂

#gibbs x reader #leroy jethro gibbs #ncis #ncis fanfiction #agent gibbs #mark harmon #ncis request

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welcomingdisaster · 11 months

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an abridged list of items of archeological significance recovered by divers in Beleriand

read on ao3

1: Partial skeleton, clear draconian origin. Remarkably well preserved; though centuries old, fragments of the skull, two vertebrae, and a rib had sunk to the bottom of the ocean and been preserved in pelagic red clay. Though not enough bone remains to reproduce the shape of the head with any degree of certainty, we can now confirm the size of the head would have been at a minimum 4.6 meters wide and 5.8 meters long. One particularly well preserved tooth was measured at 48.5 cm in length.

See addendum A for detailed sketches of the recovered skeleton.

2: Arrowhead, found near the eye socket of the aforementioned draconian skull. Flint. Simple design and choice of material indicates a probable human origin.

3-16: Swords. Hard iron, highly degraded due marine corrosion. These are made in a one handed style, curved as sabres; no decoration survives.

17-23: Swords. Steel, somewhat degraded due to marine corrosion. These are made in a two-handed style, and are much larger than the previous set. 18 and 22 retain decorative elements on the pommels and cross guards. Cross-hatching on 18 may have once depicted a star or flower. The pommel of 22 is set with a red gem.

24: Sword. Unknown material (footnote 1), which shows no sign of degradation. Researchers onsite initially assessed it as having no archeological significance due to its appearance; it was, however, found buried underneath three meters of marine sediment, embedded in copper helmet and skull (25). The site had been undisturbed for longe enough for significant vegetation to have grown over it; we are forced to conclude 24 could not have been placed there recently. Still, the age of the weapon remains unknown and hotly debated among field researchers.

This is a two-handed great-sword measuring 2.1 meters in length and weighing 4 kg. It is heavily ornamented. The pommel is decorated with an amber set in gold, surrounded by concentric golden circles and protruding rays; it appears to depict a rising sun. The blade itself is engraved, depicting eagles in flight. It remains extraordinarily sharp.

25: Partial skeleton; skull, spinal column, pelvis. The weight of the skull and distinctive jaw shape indicate orcish origin. The skull was found still encased in a copper helmet, highly degraded due to marine corrosion. Cause of death is plainly trauma to the top of the skull, which, along with the helmet, had been pierced by the great-sword (24) described above.

26: Full skeleton. Elven origin. Most probably female and roughly 185 cm in height. Based on placement and position of the body (footnote 2) it appears to have been laid to rest before any battle had taken place on the site. Cause of death appears to be blunt force trauma to the chest, with several ribs broken in at an angle that would have pierced the lungs. The body was buried wearing jewelry (4 sets of silver earrings, silver lip ring, copper circlet, two silver rings worn on the fingers, copper ankle-bracelets) and with a great-sword laid across the chest.

27: Full canine skeleton. Size and shape indicate a medium herding dog, perhaps somewhat resembling a collie. Osteoarthritis and severe hip dysplasia observed on the skeleton indicate the specimen had likely been of advanced age at time of death; otherwise no cause of death could be determined. Placement of the bones indicates that the body has been tightly wrapped in a now-degraded piece of fabric (such as a towel or blanket) when buried. A silver flower charm, which may have once been attached to a leather or rope collar, was found by the neck.

Notably, it appears to have been buried with the elven remains described above (26). Placement of the body indicates that the graves were not dug simultaneously; it is our opinion that another party returned to bury 27 alongside 26.

28-29: Two full skeletons. Orcish origin. One (28) is most probably male, roughly 174 cm in height. Cause of death appears to be blunt force trauma to the head. The second (29) is roughly 171 cm in height; bone structure and degradation makes sex impossible to determine with any degree of certainty. Though the bones of this skeleton show no damage, an elven knife (30) was found inside the ribcage. It is our opinion that it is likely the body had died as a result of the injuries inflicted by the blade, and that the blade, buried inside the body, likely had gone unnoticed by the party responsible for burial.

Placement of the bones indicates a shared burial; the two skeletons had been laid side-by-side, with their hands placed on top of each other.

30: Obsidian knife, 12 cm in length and 4 cm in width. Found resting inside the ribcage of an orcish skeleton (29). It is engraved with writing in Sindarin. Only one word, believed to be “aurë” (S. day ) is still legible.

31: Bone fragment: partial right radius with attached carpal fragments. The bone is damaged on both ends. On the medial end, bone has been severed four inches above the wrist, likely while the body had still been living: splinter patterns indicate a relatively crude, blunt weapon, implying the amputation had relied largely on brute force. On the lateral end, adjacent to the remaining carpal fragments, the bone appears to have been drilled into. The drilling indicates a highly precise, surgical procedure; the drilling site would have been very near vital blood vessels, and a high level of skill would have been necessary to avoid killing the subject. When the bone fragment was found, a thin rod of unknown metal had been driven through the hole, attached to an eight-link chain; the bone had broken during extraction attempts and detached from the rod. Neither the rod nor the chain could be removed from rock formations on the ocean floor by divers.

The bone is unusually large (radial length estimated at minimum 38cm, though exact measurement impossible due to degradation of bone). Size and elongated shape indicate a probable elven origin, though further testing may be needed to confirm. Age and damage of the sample have made attempts at DNA extraction unviable. (footnote 3)

32: Chiseled stone toy. The toy depicts a humanoid figure consisting of two spheres stacked atop each other. A smiling face with upturned lips and large eyes is carved into the top circle; indentations as feet have been made on the bottom. Two prongs protrude from the head; these may be meant to represent ears, horns, or hair.

This figure has proved particularly hard to categorize. The protruding ears may indicate an elven origin. The relative crudeness of the features of the face suggests orcish make. The style of the carving, meanwhile, is reminiscent of artifacts recovered from contemporary human settlements.

(1) Field tests inconclusive; currently awaiting results of off-site testing.

(2) Found supine with arms crossed over chest.

(3) That any bone should remain intact for years (let alone centuries) in such an environment is highly unusual. Further study of this phenomenon is necessary; at present we can only hypothesize the cause to be some form of hyper-preservation common in elven remains, or perhaps an effect of the unknown black metal.

#my fic #the silmarillion #silmarillion #maedhros #porting this over to tumblr as well

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