#i was like ohhh so That’s the direction they’re going in
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new type of dream i have fairly often: uncovering rare or new mcr-related footage and trying to gather enough evidence in the dream to prove to my waking self that it’s real. last night it was a music venue showing a ‘documentary’ of never before seen early concert videos and then later on a clip of a photographer talking about her experience working with mcr on the recent tour & complaining that gerard is always asking “can you make me look more… neutral. like gender neutral”
#the other night it was a weird wwwy promo video ft gerard in the teenagers mv cheer uniform#i was like ohhh so That’s the direction they’re going in
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part two to this little thing 'cause i saw these tags on the last part from @stevesjester and actually kicked my feet and giggled about it
After Pretty Boy kissed him, Eddie walked back to the staff break room in a daze.
His slow lumbering gait still managed to scare some folks, though, so that’s a plus.
He opens the door, slowly turns to close it softly, and leans back against it once it is.
“Eddie? You okay?” Comes a voice he’d know anywhere. “Wait, that is you, right? You’re supposed to be Piggy Man tonight?”
Eddie pulls the rubber mask off, making his stomach flip thinking about the last time it was pulled up. You know, ‘cause he’s a sap.
Chrissy takes in his shocked, sweaty face, “Oh my god, you okay? What happened?”
He looks up at his roommate (best friend, sister) in her bloody cheerleader costume, an ironic holdout from their time in high school, and breathes a laugh, “I fell in love.”
“OMG OMG tell me everything right now!!” Chrissy bounces over to him excitedly and pulls him down to the bench of their one (1) break table, a sagging plastic picnic table.
He looks up at her bright happy face and barks out a half hysterical laugh, “I can’t believe you’re this excited about me potentially falling in love with someone I’m literally being paid to scare.”
“Oooh, so they were a runner??”
“Yeah, literally in this case.”
“Start talking, Munson, or I’m going to throw all your guitar picks down the garbage disposal.”
“Okay, okay, Jesus Christ.. Okay, so I did my usual creepy husky voice at him, called him all the usual things,”
“Let me guess, you started with ‘pretty boy’?”
“Yeah. ‘Cause he’s pretty. Duh. Damn was he pretty…”
“Uh huh. And you fell in love with him ‘cause he was pretty?”
“No, no of course not, listen to this:” Eddie sits up straighter in preparation for the story. “I had him backed into a corner, right? The fake gate over in section 2B,”
“Ah yes, of course.”
“Yeah! And when I lunged at him, he caught my arm, and spun me around.”
“Shut. Up.”
“No, never. SO he’s got me backed against the fence, and he–I swear to fucking Jesus H. Christ–lifts my mask up and kisses me.”
Chrissy starts to squeal incoherently. “Eeeeee!!! Shutupshutupshutup!! Holy shit there’s no way this happened!!”
“Look, 100% serious right now; he kissed me stupid, and spun around and booked it again.”
“Pretty Boy distracted you with a kiss to escape!?! I cannot believe this, c’mon..” Crissy grabs ahold of his arm again and pulls him out of the breakroom with her insane unchecked leftover cheer squad strength.
“Whoa, what? Where’re we going?? He’s probably gone by now! I was standing over in 2B like an idiot for a while after he left!!”
“Not that, we gotta go see Argyle.”
“Argyle why—ohhh shit. Oh my god, you think they caught it on camera?” Eddie’s actively following her now.
The two burst into the warehouses’ security office, where they’re met with the backs of two ‘zombie’ guards (and the leftover smell of weed).
“Argyle, Jonathan, you need to look at something for us,”
“Is it the footage of Eddie’s makeout sesh in 2B? ‘Cause we’re waaayy ahead of you pompom.”
“Ah!! Holy shit he was telling the truth?!” Chrissy bodies between the two, sending Argyle rolling away on his chair, and Jonathan staggering back a step.
“Dude, that’s so cool of your boyfriend to come to the haunt, keepin’ us in business.” Argyle directs at Eddie, though still spinning slowly in his chair.
“He’s not my–you thought he was my boyfriend?”
“Yeah man, why else would you look at him like that.” Jonathan points down at the screen.
Chrissy re-winds it again and Eddie watches himself charge forward at Pretty Boy (damn, he’s still pretty though this grainy footage too, how the fuck is that possible??), get spun and–oh shit, they’re right.
“Oh Jesus Christ.” he hangs his head into his hands, falling down into Jonathan’s previously abandoned chair.
“Sooo…he’s not your boyfriend..?”
Chrissy re-winds the footage again. Squeals happily.
“Nope. Just met him tonight.”
“Wow dude, that’s like, love at first sight if I ever saw it.”
She re-winds it again, squeals.
“Yeah I know, it’s embarrassing as shit, alright?” Eddie’s still talking into his palms.
Chrissy snorts at that, “Not for you! Well..kinda..but him too, did you not see that pause?”
“...What pause?”
His question goes unanswered as Jon and Argyle move back in over Chrissy’s shoulders and after a few seconds both “Ohh…” in sync.
“The fuck’re you talking about?”
“Look,” She re-winds the tape once again and points, “Watch after he lifts your mask.”
So he does, and..okay, there was a pause.
“...So?”
“He totally fell in love with you at the same time you did him. Fell with him. With each other?”
“You both fell in love at the same time.” Chrissy says what Jonathan was trying to. “We have GOT to find this guy somehow.”
Chrissy records the footage on the screen with her phone, intending to post it online to find the guy, but Argyle’s positive he’s gonna show back up tonight.
“Give him a chance, pompom, he’s totally in love too, remember?”
“Fine, but if he doesn’t come back today, I’m posting this. Maybe it’ll get us some more business too.”
“Do I get a say in this?” Eddie asks, already knowing the answer.
“No.” Yep, there it is.
So, he rolls his eyes, puts his mask back on, and finishes out the night like everything is normal and he didn’t just fall head over fuckin’ heels for a random (hot) stranger earlier.
He’s done for the night before Chrissy since she’s got a lot of that fake blood to try and wash off, so he grabs up his stuff and heads out the front, intending to wave bye to Gareth at the front counter before braving the frigid late fall wind to warm up his car (and move it closer to the entrance so Chrissy doesn't have to walk in the cold).
“See ya Ed,” Gareth calls, and he waves over his shoulder at him as he passes, his attention pulled to a blonde with a choppy bob looking in through the glass of the door, partially silhouetted by the bright ass headlights of a shiny Tesla parked behind her.
He can see the shadow of someone in the driver seat too, as he gets closer and opens the door for her, their face only partially lit up through the tinted glass by the glow of a phone screen.
She starts rambling off immediately after the door is open. “Oh my god, I thought we were too late and you were closed and I completely didn’t even realize I’d left something here when we were here earlier an–”
“Nope, no worries, ma’am, just go talk to Gareth at the front counter and he can tell you if someone turned in…whatever it is you left here.”
She says her thanks and scoots past him, and he spins quickly towards the side lot where his old Neon is parked.
He glances back when he hears the bell chime over the door, a bit delayed (probably the wind holding it open), and sees that the Tesla’s stopped beaming their headlights into the front door, that’s nice of them.
He unlocks his car and gets in, turning the engine over and cranking the heat as high as it’ll go. Once the engine stops it’s signature ‘I’m cold as fuck rn, don’t even try to move me’ rattle, he drives to the front door to wait for Chrissy, pulling in next to the burgundy Tesla.
He scrolls down TikTok for a couple minutes before a banner pops up on his screen
Chris C.: oh my holy fucking shit eddie, get your ass back inside!
Panicking, he races back in through the door, not even bothering to shut off his engine (or close his car door for that matter), thinking shiny Telsa duo is like, robbing the place or something, but as soon as he gets back in, he’s stopped dead in his tracks.
His heart’s still beating a mile a minute, but now with nerves.
Because standing infront of the counter are Chrissy (who’s actually vibrating with excitement), choppy blonde, and…
Oh fuck.
No way.
“H–hi, hi. I’m Steve, you’re Eddie right?”
He can’t help the grin that splits across his face. “Hey, pretty boy.”
thanks to @henderdads for rightfully pointing out that modern day rich boy steve would probably have a tesla <3
tagging everyone i saw in the tags of the last post that seemed interested in more/wanted to see the aftermath lmao: @bangarangdarling, @tartarusknight, @kas-eddie-munson, @wormdebut (AMAZING url btw), @vecnuthy, @perseus-notjackson, @homosexual-having-tea, @matchingbatbites, @scarcrossdlvrs, @anzelsilver, @auroraplume, @kkpwnall, @wildwildsoul, @bennys-burgers, @steveharringtonssluttywaist
#steddie#st#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve harrington x eddie munson#st ficlet#steddie ficlet#platonic hellcheer#chrissy cunningham#jonathan byers#argyle#gareth emerson#modern au#noelle writes
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I loved your little jealously blurb 😭 but imagine it being the other way around and the whole trip you’re so used to girls hitting on him because most guys don’t go for it when they see you with him until you suddenly get sent these drinks and you’re like ohhh? When the bartender says they’re actually for you and Jude who’s just chilling drops his phone and is like don’t they see I’m right here while trying to locate these guys and you’re like, guess their blind just like all your girlfriends
we lurv jealous jude🤭🤭idk abt this so i hope it’s okay and again it’s a little longer than a normal blurb but yeah
“that feels good.” jude half moaned, head tipped to one side as he let his eyes slip closed. he basked in the feeling of your hands over his back and shoulders, fingers massaging the sun cream into his skin. you were working at the tense muscles and it was making his head spin, relaxation washing over him and making it a little hard to think.
“yeah?” you sounded amused, lips curled into a soft smile at how pliant he’d gone beneath your hands. you were perched behind him on the sofa, up on your knees so you could easily rub the cream into his shoulders and the back of his neck. you still had his chest to do and you wondered if your friends would simply accuse you of feeling him up. you skimmed your palms over his biceps.
“y’should just keep doing this all afternoon.”
“would you pay me?”
“maybe not in money.” there was a teasing lilt to his words and you knew he was smirking, his mind as always in the gutter. it had you rolling your eyes, nipping playfully at the soft skin on the inside of his elbow, more than satisfied when he hissed. “stop being mean.”
“stop being crude.” you argued, slipping your palms across his back, trying not to let your mouth water at the sight of his muscles shifting in the sunlight. jude was beautiful all the time but there was something extra special about summer jude, his prettiness almost doubling when shirtless in the sun.
“i was actually thinking of paying you back by taking you to dinner, maybe you should stop being crude.”
“you’re such a liar.” he only hummed a low acknowledgment at that, peaking his eyes open and craning his head to look at you. you’d worked the suncream completely into his skin but you were still running your hands over him and jude was enjoying the attention a lot more than he probably should. there was something intimate about it, especially when you held his gaze and dug your fingers softly into his shoulder.
“s’that a no to dinner then?”
“you never actually asked me.” jude rolled his eyes, muttered something about you being so high maintenance and raised his eyebrows.
“do you wanna get dinner tonight?”
“yeah, suppose so.”
“you’re so annoying sometimes.” he huffed, reaching his arm out behind him to prod at your side. it had you squirming, a soft giggle tumbling from your lips but before you could throw him a retort, a waiter appeared at the side of the table. he hovered in front of your group of friends, a cocktail tray holding one glass held in his hand. he lifted it in the direction of you and jude.
“a sex on the beach.”
“seriously jude, how many more of those are you gonna buy her before you actually just ask her to shag you on the beach?” your best friend sounded amused, her words eliciting a round of laughter and teasing from the rest of the people settled around the seats. your boyfriend simply flipped her his middle finger, shaking his head at the waiter as the two of you settled properly onto the sofa.
“i didn’t order it. are you sure it’s for us?” he asked, leaning back against the sofa, his arm against the back as his thumb brushed across your shoulder. the waiter followed that movement and a half embarrassed smile tipped his lips.
“uh, yeah. it’s for you,” from over the back of the seats he passed the fruity drink to you before jabbing his finger back in the general direction of the bar. “from the blonde kid at the bar. he said to give it to the pretty girl in the blue bikini.”
at his words more muffled laughter spilled from the group and a half snort got caught in your throat, eyes trailing the bar in search of your buyer. there were multiple blondes gathered in the area, more than a few looking your way so you weren’t exactly sure who it had come from. jude had shifted beside you, lifted a little on the sofa to scour the bar as well.
“are you fucking kidding me?” there was a notch between his brows, annoyance and obvious jealousy colouring his tone and the waiter muttered something quiet before turning away. he clearly didn’t want to wait around for jude to ask him to specifically point out which guy had sent his girl a drink.
“i think you’ve got competition, bro.” one of the lads snickered and jude turned a glare on him, clearly not at all happy. the look on his face made your tummy flutter, stupidly happy that he was jealous. the whole holiday you’d had to sit and watch girls hit on him, send him shots with their numbers hidden under the glasses, accidentally bump into him and spill their drink so they could feel him up under the pretence of cleaning him off. it was nice to have the roles reversed for once. nice to know that jude got just as jealous as you over something that really was insignificant.
“a sex on the beach? seriously? why didn’t he just come over here and ask you to shag him?” he complained, again turning to check the bar. you followed his gaze, admittedly curious about your admirer but jude’s head was in the way and you wondered if he was blocking your view on purpose.
“babe, it’s just a drink.” you tried not to sound amused, free hand settling on his bicep and you rubbed softly, squeezed until he turned his head to you. he met your gaze just as you took a sip from the straw and his mouth swung open, disbelief colouring his features.
“are you seriously drinking it?”
“it was a free drink.”
“it was a proposition.” jude’s voice went up an octave and you had to bite into your cheek to avoid grinning, holding his gaze as you both ignored the buzzing conversation of your friends. they were all trying to find the source of the drink, muttering teasing words about your boyfriends obvious annoyance.
“one that i obviously wasn’t gonna take him up on.” you went to take another sip but jude’s fingers were around the glass, tutting softly as he pulled it away from you. he thrust it in the general direction of the rest of the group.
“noah, drink that.”
“are you being serious right now?” you asked, shifting on the sofa as he again turned his head towards the bar. he was a little more annoyed than you’d originally thought, shoulder tense when you smoothed your hand over it.
“i’m sitting right here. right next to you! you’ve been feeling me up for the past twenty minutes and i was literally kissing you not even ten minutes ago. what made him think he could just send you a drink.” he grumbled low in his throat, arms folding over his chest as he slumped back against the seat. you raised your brows at him.
“maybe he’s as dense as all your girlfriends.” you commented and it earned you a half arsed glare. you blew out a breathy laugh, slid across the seat until you could climb into his lap, straddling him with your thighs on either side of his. “it’s just a drink, jude.”
“it was a sex on the beach.”
“so?” reaching for his arms you unfolded them, took his hands and guided them around your waist until he locked his fingers together at your back. “you’ve been buying me them all day.”
“well, yeah, cause i wanna fuck you on the beach. it’s a proposition.” he was pouting, avoiding your gaze and instead focusing on the necklace that hung just below your throat. a necklace that had his initial on. you ran your hands back up his arms, squeezed his shoulders. “i can’t believe he saw us together and still thought it was a good idea.”
jude turned his head again but your fingers were on his jaw, turning him back to face you with a soft smile. the pad of your thumb swiped over his bottom lip in an attempt to brush away his pout and you leant in to nudge your nose against his cheek.
“you have nothing to be jealous about, y’know?”
“it’s disrespectful.”
“but i love you.” you cupped his jaw in your hands, pressed a kiss to his lips and bumped his nose as you bit back a smile. “it’s cute when you get all jealous though.” you watched his eyes roll, his arms tightening around your waist.
“i’m gonna need you to stop being so pretty.”
“says the one who’s been hit on a million times in the past two days.” you kissed him again, short and sweet, giggled when he tried to chase your mouth for more. “y’know, the beach’ll be pretty empty when that dj set is on tonight.”
jude paused where he’d been kissing the corner of your mouth, pulled his head back to meet your gaze, a certain heat flaring behind his eyes. there was still a crease between his brows and you smoothed it out with your finger, flashed him a somewhat flirty smile.
“you could show me what that proposition is all about.”
#hey jude :)#jude bellingham#leigh’s baby blurbs#sinclaiirs baby blurbs#jude bellingham blurb#jude bellingham fic#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham fluff#jude bellingham smut#jude bellingham one shot
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my favorite romance prompts/scenarios 🫶
like. ohhh my gosh when i read these i just go FERAAAAAAAAAAL 👹 and to think i’ve never even been in a relationship?? (i’m aroace loll) anyway, here you go!
cw: suggestive, sexual tension
A waking up and B’s face is so close to them, and their hand is on their forehead, and they’re just smiling in a slightly teasing way that makes A wonder if they know what they’re doing and oh gosh they feel hot all over nooow—
hand kisses with a smirk and direct eye contact and wet lips
one person grabbing the other’s chin
they don’t know the other person wears glasses and when they see them wearing them they’re just. SHOCKED. because they’re SOO PRETTY.
one person getting a new hairstyle or haircut and the other person is just thinking. woah
^^ similarly, a person who usually has it tied lets their hair down for the first time in front of another person (or vice versa) and they feel embarrassingly flustered (bonus points if they’re alone so it feels weirdly intimate)
(last appearance related one i swear) FORMAL WEAAAR, suits (pulling someone by their tie oh gosh), gowns, dresses, formalwear but with unbuttoned buttons and messy hair…
one person finds the other person begins influencing their interests and work, like they begin absentmindedly painting them, writing about characters similar to them, singing a song while suddenly thinking of them, etc. (i love it when this happens platonically, too 🥹)
sensitive spots on a person’s neck that the other discovers and won’t stop kissing and nipping at and biting—
one person making soft noises during a kiss and then blushing like crazy, and the other one notices and kisses them so much more intensely that by the end they’re pretty much the same color as a tomato
an oldie but certainly a goodie: “shut up” “make me”
^^ similarly: “ooooh you wanna kiss me so bad” , and the other person either starts angrily blushing or actually kisses them (or they angrily blush and then kiss them…)
cliché but still effective, one person trips and the other stops them from falling by holding onto their waist
“[name] kissed like they needed it to survive”
when they’re laughing together but as their laughter slowly dies down, they make direct eye contact, glance at the other’s lips, it feels like time slows down for just a minute…and then they meet in the middle
arguing and one person just shuts up the other by kissing them ; it’s just a soft, chaste one, but then the person who got kissed rushes back in
one person who’s awfully cocky keeps trying to get the other flustered by constantly firing pickup lines and saying flirty things to them, but one day they actually respond and suddenly they’re not so cocky anymore because fuck they’re hot
“pretty boy” / “pretty girl” BUT with a smirk and narrowed eyes
lingering touches like a hug or a comforting arm pat — it lasts for only a few moments but when it stops the other person immediately feels the loss of warmth and just wants to lean back in
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day 24: chris redfield [riding]
࿓ synopsis • you try to take him raw.
―❦ nsfw, re: village!chris, brat!reader, f!reader, cumming, swearing, pet names, raw & sore, power play (kinda), maybe a little bit oc!chris, praising, size kink, ‘is all I guess! • 0.8k • wow, first time writing for him & it is enough to make me go crazy over him as if I am not already! anyway, enjoy! [kinktober m.]
“c-chris!” you moaned shamelessly, eyes half-open, mouth wide open, hands on his well-built chest to hold onto, and pussy soaking wet onto his cock that you try to sit on properly. “it’s too much - I can’t move!”
“oh yes, you can baby,” words of encouragement goes from one ear to leave from the other as you begin to cry because of how unprepared you were to have him like this - you wanted it to be raw and rough as always, being a little brat for him to amuse, you regret your decision now yet you can’t deny the fact that it feels so good that you try to hold yourself from sitting down entirely and leaving your pussy sore enough to get pain.
however, chris is there to help as he picks your smaller body up, comparing to him, and saying sweet things into your ears as he sits down on the chair still - all his glory sends another kind of pleasure to your body when you look at him as he still holds you by the waist, fingers playing with the flesh under his skin to call you down.
“just sit on my cock,” he says shamelessly, “it will fill you up perfectly - you have already soaked so much pretty girl, it will be easy.”
“easier to say than do it- agghhh - chris!”
he chuckles playfully, watching the perfect sight in front of his eyes as he leans back onto the chair further, hands traveling until they reach your hips, gazes on your chest as you breathe rapidly because of the sudden action he has created; putting you down on his cock so that he can finally be inside your hot walls entirely, leaving no room, opening you, then, waiting for you to move after adjusting it.
hitting his chest both furiously and softly, earning a little smile from him that you can’t see exactly because of the tears forming in your eyes, washing your face as you slowly begin to move your hips - feeling every motion through your body, you bite your own lips not to be so noisy but chris who stays and watches you in silence takes you by the chin, picking your face up, he begins to kiss you passionately, taking the remaining breath away from your lungs.
“chris, ohhh -“ you moan into his mouth when he leaves them freely after biting them.
his eyes looking at your lips for a moment burn you, “yeah, like that my good girl, moan my name and never hold back. wanna hear all the voices you will make as you ride my cock.”
he sounds as if they’re the direct orders coming from him, and you feel like it, giving him what he wants - never holding back again as you start to move easily now, the juice your pussy soaking makes everything wet and sticky - creating lewd voice as you take his thick and hard cock inside your walls, earning a few spanks from him the moment you begin to bounce on his cock.
every spank comes from different parts of your body; ass that jolts up and down with bounces, pussy takes his length so well, breasts going up and down as if they have come from a porn itself. it all gives you different yet effective pleasure, making your climax come sooner than you thought.
his name goes out of your mouth as pray, his praises find your ears, the body reacts whenever his hands travel on it, voices are full of a mix of skin slapping to the skin, moaning, screams even, swears - mostly coming from him, praises - good girl, my good girl, taking my cock so well that wanna ruin you, oh that praises, filling your mind completely with him.
hair on his thighs increases the pressure and pleasure you get, the sight of his abs getting tight is worth watching - including the expressions he has on his attractive face, length twitches inside you gives the satisfaction.
you smile with such pride that chris lowers his head down, furrowing, yet still looking so damn well. “what’s it pretty?” he asks, mocking you with a deeper voice, “feel pride, fuuuck! - for what, mmmhph, making me like this, hm? - riding me so - agghh, fucking good?”
“yeah,” you say between rapid breathing, “all of it, and for making you cum.”
“oh, making me cum, huh?” he chuckles, shaking his head in both surprised and amused manner, “you didn’t earn it -“
“yet.”
you challenge him - and it ends when you ride him faster, taking him deeper, and even pulling his hair - holding him by the neck, giving him what he needs; being the one who receives the attention and affection, you make him cun so hard and much into you that his hot semen drips from your core onto his thighs, making a mess out of both of you.
you’re always winning the challenges after all - if it involves fucking chris redfield’s brain off.
❦ tagging: @lilvampirina 🩵 @snowprincesa1 🩵 @dookiemeshibear 🩵 @manuusrw
#☁ last week of kinktober 2023#kinktober 2023#resident evi#re#resident evil: village#resident evil x reader#resident evil smut#chris redfield#chris redfield x reader#chris redfield x y/n#chris redfield x you#chris redfield smut#chris redfield x f!reader#re: village#re: village x reader#FIRT TIME I WROTE FOR THIS ALMIGHTY MAN SO HOPE IT FITS TO HIM!#*kissin!*
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CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪
(Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club series)
strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!reader
𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ MDNI
Chapter 016: 86 It, Baby
When they find out about you and Eddie, his cult following of jealous dancers team up to make your life a living hell. How much of it will you be able to tolerate? And how much of it will Eddie actually allow?
↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014** , 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020*
* = somewhat smutty chapters ** = smut chapters
word count: 8.1k words
disclaimers — fluff, smut, angst, oral (fem-receiving), pussy worship, office roleplay, fingering, boyfriend!eddie 😍 • bullying, body dysmorphia, body shaming, humiliation, sabotage, profanities, spreading rumors, billy being a narcissistic fuck again
(x)
Chapter 015 recap
"You sure you want to sign up for all of this?"
• • •
From here on out, it's going to be Shy Girl and Eddie... and nothing... NOTHING will ever change your mind or get in the way of that.
“Sugarcoated lies unfolded…”
Chapter 016
♡
“OUT OF THE FUCKING WAY!” Dustin shrieks.
“CORNER!” Mike hollers. “Hot plates coming through!”
“Shit shit shit shit!” This is the third order Lucas has messed up. “Argyle’s gonna kill me. Where the fuck is Eddie?!”
It’s Hellfire’s busiest Tuesday and the owner is nowhere in sight. And neither are you — Hellfire’s number one dancer.
Surely that has to be a coincidence. Because the last thing on your mind while everyone is going crazy looking for Eddie is going crazy in his office, your legs spread out on his desk while riding his tongue, his mouth and fingers penetrating your sensitive clit with calculated strokes and thirst-quenched laps, Eddie’s eyes rolling to the back of his head as he prowls for your release, the remnants of it trickling down the wooden table and soaking all of his nearby paperwork.
…Right?
“Have you seen Eddie?” Nancy demands as she waves her dead curling iron in the air.
“No!”
“Will…have you seen Eddie?” Jonathan asks.
“No!”
Argyle isn’t having any better of a day.
“Ayo, who THE FUCK keeps ringing in the Eddie Special?! We 86’d it an hour ago cuz we’re out of thousand island!”
The frazzled cook shifts his focus back to the grill, wiping sweat away from his forehead in exhaustion. He then bolts to the fryer, ignoring the mountain of tickets piling up on the line.
A few muffled curse words escape his mouth. Goddammit Eddie. Where is that fucker?!
“Eddie?!” Dustin calls out as he’s directed to voicemail.
“Eddie!” Chrissy attempts.
“Eddie?!”
“Eddie!”
“EDDIE!” you moan. “Oh, fuck. Eddie…”
“Thought I told you to call me sir.”
Eddie’s lips hum against the ones between your legs as he devours you, tip of his tongue flicking across your folds before circling inwards, licking…sucking…moaning and spitting as he reels you in for a delicious rotation of all possible combinations.
“My sweet, sweet secretary,” Eddie playfully swoons. “They’re gonna have to wait baby, you taste so good.”
It should come as no surprise that a Dungeon Master like Eddie is obsessed with role-play. Yet it stuns you like it’s the first time, watching him devour you like a starved man in the wild, the heels of his palms anchoring you to his desk by how they hook your thighs in place.
“Love the skirt you wore just for me,” Eddie blubbers. The easy access just does something to him. And the way it hugs your body... Eddie is practically scraping his knees on the floor trying to make you feel good. “Love your sweet pussy. Love everything about you…”
“Ohhh…fuck…” you mewl as the echos of your wet cunt filter the air around you. “Yes, Eddie…”
“You my naughty little secretary?”
“Yes, sir…”
Eddie hums again while you toss your head back, bliss-filled and fucked out, squirming underneath him as your ankles dangle limply at his shoulders. Your pornographic moans that bleed into desperate squeals cause Eddie to subconsciously buck his hips and thrust, eagerly sinking his mouth further into you as he sucks harder on your clit. And just before he can pull down his pants to pound you senseless around his office, another type of pounding awaits for you two at the door.
“EDDIE OPEN THE FUCK UP!” Henderson screeches as he knocks. “Our ass is grass out there, what are you doing?!”
Eddie sighs in anguish, irritibably looking over at the ruckus waiting for him on the other side of that door. "I'll be right back, babe.”
You use this time away from Eddie to gather yourself and your belongings. Since you had been folded up for a while, your legs wobble like jelly when they meet the floor.
You’re a little bummed that you two didn’t meet your goal of Orgasm #5 of the day, but you’re content in knowing that there is always an opportunity to later in the night.
The door swings open abruptly causing you to jolt. Eddie’s back.
“Shy Girl,” he huffs.
“Eds,” you respond.
“I never thought these words would ever come out of my mouth,” Eddie warns you. “But please put your clothes on.”
“Huh?!”
Eddie fills you in on the shitshow that is taking place outside. Hellfire is in desperate need of an extra server, and you are the only one with qualifications that can do it. But as much as you want to help, you are reluctant. It is a huge pay cut on your end if you took that deal.
“I make way more stripping than serving, Eddie,” you frown. “I need to pay the bills.”
“I can give you a cash advance,” Eddie bargains. “A-and even all my tips from the tip-out tonight. We just really need someone, baby. Just this one time, please. Only for today.”
Your man starts towards you with a flirtatious demeanor now, swooping in to grab your hips that he adores oh so much. You bite your lips, trying your best not to cave.
“And…” he lowers his voice huskily. “I’ll be sure to have another kind of tip waiting for you at home…”
You giggle into his chest, laughing at the clever pun that he had up his sleeve. And because he’s so charismatic and convincing, you take him up on the offer.
“Okay, fine,” you agree. “Just this one day.”
When you’re fully clothed again, Eddie hands you a Hellfire baseball tee and apron for you to wear as you switch from dancer to waitress. And after one final look at yourself, you reach to turn the knob of Eddie’s office door to go outside. Someone is already waiting by the foot of it when you pull it open.
Henderson.
Confused, Dustin looks at you. You look at Dustin. Dustin’s eyes wander over to Eddie whose got the most devious smirk on his face. Finally Henderson looks back over at you and sighs, issuing you a “do I even want to know?” type stare.
You clear your throat, attempting to brush off the awkwardness that just took over.
“Well…we going out there or not?”
“Hey. Look over there.”
Your ability to take up space in more forms than one inevitably catches the attention of the other dancers. Justice and Emmy in particular. The two watch as you strut around Hellfire with the club t-shirt on instead of the Nothing that they’re used to, ordering the younger gentlemen of Hellfire around like you were the shift lead.
“Lucas stay back here and help Argyle cook the food,” you instruct. “I will run it out. Mike, you start bussing and sweeping so the area looks nice. Dustin, I need you to make set-ups. Will, I need you up front as host and cashier. Someone needs to be at the front at all times. When everything is less crazy, we can all assume our usual positions. Right now it’s just DAMAGE CONTROL.”
Hellfire is not like a standard sit-down restaurant... for obvious reasons. However, the foundation remains the same. Everyone has a lane. They need to stay in it.
The boys are more than receptive to your instructions and follow through almost immediately. Eddie observes as it all goes down. He beams at you in awe, fantasizing about the situation because it's all his mind knows when it comes down to you.
“It’s like she’s leading them into battle…" he sighs breathlessly. "She’s so hot.”
“HOT!” Argyle screams as he dishes an appetizer onto the line. “Someone throw some chives on there for me, yeah?”
Just when you're about to crash, Steve and Max make their way inside the club, clearly worn out from their shift at Newby's, and stunned by the turnout for Hellfire at the beginning of the week.
“Holy shit, why are men so horny on a Tuesday?” Max exclaims.
She hands you your coffee that she made for you herself.
“This drink’s called The Pollywog. Dark and earthy, should do the trick.”
“Coffee does for me what crack cocaine would do for others,” you remark. “Thanks sis, I owe you.”
You pan your gaze over to Steve, because you know that he and Max usually like to order food and sit around for a bit before he drives her home.
“Uh, just two waters,” Steve mutters. “Max and I will order when you guys are less slammed.”
You smile at him, resting a grateful hand atop his shoulder. “‘ppreciate it, Stevie.”
The strippers eye you. Again, intently. You’re close with his roommate too? Little do they know you were also fucking his roommate for a short period of time.
This goes deeper than any of them thought. You and Eddie must be exclusive. And to them, it seems like you’re getting special treatment, fucking your way up to the top like a certain woman once did.
“Looks like we might have another Isabelle on our hands.”
“Look at her walking around like she owns the place.”
“She thinks she can take over Hellfire because she’s fucking Eddie huh?”
“I mean why wouldn’t she? She’s also friends with Chrissy. Birds of a feather.”
𓆩♡𓆪
It feels like you’re submerged underwater judging by the increase of pressure in the room.
The dressing room is eerily quiet. Everyone is whispering instead of the usual singing and shouting. Your intuition senses that people are staring... almost in a way that makes you feel like an art display, or that you have food in your teeth. The only ones who are still acting normal are Chrissy and Nina, while the girls you usually joke around with at their respective vanities have gone radio silent.
Just then, there's a knock on the door.
“Hi my beautiful girls,” Eddie coos as he makes his way into the dressing room.
He keeps his eyes covered until everyone says it’s okay.
“Quite the lunch shift huh?”
“You have no idea, Eds,” Nina sighs. "But it sure as hell paid off."
"Yeah, Eddie," Chrissy agrees. "We all got tipped so well, your tip-out is probably astounding too!"
Speaking of which...
"Just what I came here for," Eddie points a finger gun at you before unveiling to you a huge wad of cash. “Here are my lunch tips, like I promised.” You reluctantly take it from Eddie as he ruffles your hair endearingly.
Eddie's first mistake was not only making you the center of attention, but giving his tips to you — on top of the tips you already had from serving — in front of the other girls. In a way, those were their tips. They only became his, well, yours now, because of the tip-out policy.
Now they're really annoyed. The girls who have you on their radar wait until Eddie leaves to approach you. And when they do you're almost taken aback.
“You’re starting to do a lot of the positions,” Emmy observes.
"Uh, yeah from time to time," you respond gently. "Today Eddie really needed an extra server on the floor so I jumped ship to help the boys."
“Must be a natural at taking charge.”
"Oh…I'm hardly ever a dom," you try to laugh it off. "If I am it's usually just for show. I'm more of a soft dom and sub if you ask me."
"Just for show, I see," that's all Emmy seems to get from what you said.
"I'm sorry... did I step on some toes here?" you question her. She's almost shocked at how ballsy you are. But then again, she doesn't know you. "Because you seem pretty fed up with me today, Emmy."
“We’re just really protective of our Eddie,” she replies dryly. "That's all."
“Girl, trust I don’t want any trouble,” you try to sound confident but your voice fails you. Why would you say that? You shouldn't say that, you're his girlfriend. They should be the ones treading lightly.
“Oh we would hope so too,” Emmy glares. “Cause we’re watching.”
And just like that, the girls you thought you were on good terms with strut back outside in a single file line, their icy stares fixed on you until they are out of sight.
The atmosphere feels arctic now. Eerie. Unwelcome. It's like the remnants of Isabelle Munson still linger after all.
“The hell what that all about?” Nina questions when she walks over to you.
“It’s a looong story,” you huff.
STRIKE ONE
"And then Emmy says to me, wE'rE jUsT rEaLlY pRoTeCtIvE oF eDdIe AnD wE'rE wAtChInG yOu da-da-da."
You stop your frantic pacing to plop onto Eddie's bed in exhaustion.
"Nina and I were just standing there like... the fuck?" you continue. "WHAT is this bitch's deal?"
Eddie chuckles at your recap of the events from the day before, lazily strumming along to a Metallica song he's learning on the guitar. You're displeased with your man's lack of concern for the issue at hand.
You shoot back up quickly.
"Matter of fact, what’s everyone's deal?" you demand. "They were all chill and nice to me when I started Hellfire but the SECOND they found out we're seeing each other it's like I'm their mortal enemy. And for what? It’s not like any of them stood a chance with you anyway. Thirsty ass bitches.”
"OH!" Steve hollers from the living room, causing you and Eddie to flinch. "TOUCHDOWN TAYLOR! Wooo hooo! That's what I'm talkin' bout baby."
Eddie puts his guitar down and starts towards you, realizing now how much this has taken a toll on your mental. He also closes his bedroom door all the way, allowing for privacy between you and him, and Steve with his precious Colts game.
"I'm really sorry the girls made you feel that way," he sighs. "It's just been a while since I have been exclusive with somebody. They know how badly Isabelle broke my heart. And well, ruined my life.”
You scoff, looking away. Eddie is there to ground you once more, placing his index and middle finger on your chin, using them to redirect you back to his reassuring gaze.
“They're just looking out for me,” he assures you. “Promise."
"They thought I was gonna be another Isabelle," you pout. "That's really offensive, you know."
"They said that with Chrissy too when she was new," Eddie recalls. "I mean…You should've SEEN the amount of drama that unfolded whenever she and I would even breathe the same air. You would've thought at one point, they were gonna chop her head off and parade it on a wooden stake like in Lord of the Flies."
You fold your arms irritably.
"This isn't Lord of the Flies, Eddie. This is real life."
"Lord of the Flies is also real life. In a way."
“Not sure which side of the battle you're on here, babe.”
Eddie then goes onto explain that Chrissy also faced the wrath of Eddie's OG dancers. But after the Hellfire Girls realized that Chrissy was not going to be a threat, they backed down.
Every explanation earns him an eye roll. Eddie needs to realize that being seen as a threat should never be an excuse to be mean to someone. Especially since those girls have been buddy-buddy with you before.
"Strip clubs can be... very catty," Eddie concludes. "The longer you work in the industry the more you'll realize. Take it with a grain of salt, okay baby? All that matters is us."
You don't budge. A part of you still feels discredited, despite kind of seeing where Eddie is coming from. Unless this worsens, he can’t 100% take your side. Eddie needs to be mediator for now.
He scratches his head.
“I also…need… my dancers,” Eddie points out. “So from a manager-slash-owner standpoint, there isn’t much I can do about Mean Girl shit other than keep it under my radar. But you’re a Hargrove, honey. You hold your ground, get your check, fight some chicks outside the club if you have to…”
You giggle at the last part. Eddie reels you in.
“…and then come home to me.”
And then he flashes you the Munson smile, that ever-so-charming million-dollar attribute that won your heart in the first place. It all causes you to blush.
"Okay," you say.
Before you two could swallow each other whole, Steve knocks on the door. Eddie pulls it open.
“I’m ordering pizza, any of you guys want some?” Steve questions. “Hope you don’t mind pineapple.”
Eddie grimaces. “You’re fucking disgusting. Make half of it a Meat Lovers and I’ll pay for it.”
“Fine,” Harrington huffs. His eyes travel over to you longingly. “Hargrove? You okay with pineapple?”
“I’m okay with whatever,” you mutter. “Anything’s better than a can of worms.”
Steve's eyes peer over at you then over at Eddie. He doesn't quite understand your analogy, but still seems supportive of you nonetheless.
“Okay…” Harrington mumbles before closing the door. “Pineapple and Meat Lovers it is.”
𓆩♡𓆪
It all makes sense why you ate most of Steve's pizza instead of him a couple days ago. You were clearly PMS-ing, and today you started your period.
At least now you know the Plan B you took was effective.
As grateful as you were, you're still having an awful time 'surfing the crimson wave'. Mood swings were also at an all-time high. Anything anyone was going to say to you was surely going to make you combust.
You're also bloated, a huge insecurity of yours because what you packed for today is rather skin tight. What typically would make you look snatched today looks relatively unflattering today. You try to give yourself grace. Body changes during a cycle is normal. It's part of being a woman.
"Shy Girl!" Eddie calls out to you from the other side of the dressing room. "You gonna be out soon, baby? Got a few regulars of yours at Vecna's Lair!"
The Hellfire Girls' ears perk up when they hear "regulars". Whatever is up their sleeves today cannot be any good.
You call back out to Eddie as you make your finishing touches. "Yes, coming!"
"I don't know," Emmy says, projecting her voice slightly louder than she usually does. You look towards her general direction as she talks. "I feel like a lot of people are uneducated about dressing for their body type. Cuz when you don't dress correctly for your body, it just makes everything look so unflattering."
You look down at your body and start to feel a little sad. Although the conversation was between Emmy and Justice, you can't help but feel attacked.
You decide to make your way over to the DJ and show him your songs for the night. Your choice for the evening is Candy by Doja Cat because its slow and sexy rhythm will allow you to move in a manner that is flexible for this particular phase of your cycle.
After thanking the DJ, you confidently strut back down from the stage, channeling your inner Marilyn Monroe walk as you continue to move around.
"Oh my god," you hear Justice say. "That's kinda really embarrassing. Can you imagine?"
Suddenly, you hear Eddie's voice trail after you. Out of all people.
"Baby!" he exclaims.
Stunned, you turn around. "Yes?"
"I uh," Eddie stammers. "Let's get you back into the locker room huh?"
You're confused. What could possibly be going on to cause such panic in Eddie's eyes? Why was he so frantic, pushing and hauling you into the dressing room — and not in a way you'd like.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Eds, slow down!" you exclaim. "What is it?"
Eddie gulps as he tries to catch his breath. You wait for him to talk, but he's too busy grabbing some spare towels and even some paper ones.
"Respectfully, Hargrove," Eddie says as he strides back over to you. "You need to change outfits or something."
Like Billy, you immediately go into defensive mode.
"OH IT LOOKS THAT BAD, HUH?” you demand. Your mini-freak out earns you some laughter from those girls, but you're too aggravated to give them your attention. “Sorry that I'm a little bloated today! Sorry that I’m a normal human being whose body is different depending on the day."
"It's not that, baby," Eddie insists. "It's just that... your bleeding? It went through."
Looking in the mirror now, you see a HUGE blot behind you. Your tampon had gotten dislodged and now there is blood all over your cute baby blue set. Heat begins to simmer at your cheeks.
Those fucking Hellfire Girls. How dare they not tell you?
When you glare back over at them, the Hellfire Girls are trying to conceal their laughter. What's even more infuriating is that Eddie doesn't seem to notice. But to be fair, he's too fixated on you to pay other women any mind. You want to pop them all, see how funny it is after.
"Seems like you're having a rough day," Eddie comments as he strokes your back.
"I am," you admit. "I tried to tough it out and come to work today, but nothing is going right." The air is quiet again when the girls see Eddie touching you lovingly.
You turn your body back towards the mirror and look at your ruined set in dismay. Eddie hates seeing you upset. Resting his gentle hands on your shoulder, he begins to barter.
"How about…” Eddie says. “You take the rest of the night off? I’ll take you home right quick. To my place.”
“Really?”
“Yeah!” your man nods, causing you blush. “Harrington and I have a shit ton of ice cream so you can help yourself. Lay in my bed, watch something on Netflix... When I'm off work and done visiting Wayne, we can cuddle, and I can give you belly rubs. Sound good?"
"Sounds like heaven, actually."
You don’t know what you’ve done to deserve him. Eddie is so tender and sweet when he lets his walls down. You’re grateful that he decided to lean into the unknown when it comes down to you. Such a good boyfriend already.
The Hellfire Girls can’t help but eavesdrop on your little exchange. Suddenly, Eddie speaks again.
“Are we okay?” Eddie questions you with his beady eyes.
“Yes,” you smile. “We’re more than okay.”
Eddie kisses your cheek. He leaves his peck there for a few seconds before letting go. "I'll come scoop you in 10 once I get everything squared away. Then it’s junk food and cuddles all night long.”
Eddie makes sure that the girls hear this entire conversation. As you start to pack your stuff, Nancy drops in with a graceful smile, spoiling you with pads, tampons, and some ibuprofen. Meanwhile, Jonathan packs you a Sprite in a to-go cup with a smiley face, and Argyle spoils you with your usual — chicken wings, flats only.
The Hellfire Girls are fuming. Their attempt to embarrass you didn't go as planned. Instead, they got a lovesick Eddie with a Shy Girl on her way to his house to drink hot tea, scarf down some junk food, and relish in a heat pack of sorts and cuddles all night. And Eddie’s friends indirectly rushing to your defense.
But this humbling experience doesn’t stop their games. No no, it only just issued them a new set of information and ammunition for more intense blows.
The torment isn’t stopping here. The girls are going try harder.
---
STRIKE TWO
It didn’t stop at the subtle jabs.
If there was an opportunity to inconvenience you, the Hellfire Girls took it. Like calling Eddie on his day off — while he’s out with you — to come scope out a problem that could’ve been fixed without him. Or stealing your song choice when they heard you talking about it with Chrissy, and how you planned on using it for your set. Or “dropping” breakable items like your nail polish on accident and blaming it on their ‘complete and utter clumsiness’. Funny, because Eddie is always talking about how poised they are and a myriad of other good things…because that’s just who your boyfriend is at his core: a lover and supporter of women. Unlike some people.
It was Dustin’s turn to grocery shop one day. And while the Eddie Special is back on the menu, it was the waffle fries’ turn to be 86’d. Mike’s girlfriend, Jane keeps eating them and Wheeler of course always forgets to take inventory.
"So what does 86 mean?"
You're eating lunch with a couple Hellfire Girls in the dressing room when service industry lingo is brought up. Everyone eyes you, from Emmy to Lady to Kassidy. Justice seems to be holding her breath.
"86?" you repeat just to make sure.
Kassidy gives you a look, almost a "duh" kind of look that makes you feel slightly stupid.
"Yeah, heard you talking about it with the kitchen staff."
"Oh," you say. "Oh well 86 means to get rid of something. Maybe because it's not available anymore, or out of stock. Not needed, even."
"I see..." Kassidy responds.
"Wish we can '86' people," Lady mutters.
The comment earns her a snicker from Kassidy and Lady. It makes you feel weird inside. They couldn't have possibly been talking about you, right?
You walk away to throw away your food, and while you’re away from them their laughs intensify. Now all they could talk about is ‘86’ and their own personal spins on it.
Oh they were most definitely talking about you.
You decide to leave the dressing room and hang out at the hookah lounge before your next set. It was clear you weren’t welcome and you weren’t about to be in the company of people who were only going to drain your energy.
The audacity of it all still leaves you appalled. Plotting behind your back is one thing, but the fact they had the guts to say it and do things in front of you now is scary.
𓆩♡𓆪
“And then they said, ‘Wish we could 86 people’,” you recall angrily. “That basically implies they want to get rid of me.”
“That sucks, sis,” Billy sighs. “Yeah, that’s exactly what it sounds like.”
You’re on the phone playing catch-up with Billy on your day off. Meanwhile, Eddie is playing a video game with his online friends, allowing you to use his room to pace around in frustration.
“And one time when I was on my period, I bled through,” you continue. “And then Eddie-”
Billy interrupts you before you could positively advertise your man. You would think your brother would want to know that his twin sister is in good hands judging by the way Eddie took care of you when you were feeling like absolute shit…how instead of forcing you to perform he sent you home early and ate junk food with you and gave you a heat pack and belly rubs to help with cramps…But no.
“I don’t wanna hear about that girl stuff,” Billy gags. “It’s fucking disgusting.”
Classic Billy.
“…okay,” you huff and digress. “But you get the picture, right? These girls have it out for me.”
“Oh for sure,” Billy agrees. “It’s one-sided beef because they’re intimidated by you. I hope they get the shit pimp-slapped out of them for being dicks to you.”
“I wouldn’t go as far as to say that…” you mumble.
“But I would,” Billy laughs pridefully.
No matter how awful the girls were being to you, you wouldn’t wish anything upon them like Billy described. They were already miserable anyways, judging by how awful they were being to you for no reason. If anything you’d wish them healing and some love because they clearly needed it.
“I wish I could go over there and give ‘em a piece of my mind,” your twin brother continues, the thought of violently attacking women quite possibly giving him a hard-on via the other line. “No one can be mean to my sister BUT ME.”
The execution of his words makes your stomach turn. Because as those words are uttered, you’re back in the San Diego rental, screaming and crying, clawing at Billy to get him off of you because apparently your change in tone towards him was enough justification for you to be accosted against the wall.
“That was really uncalled for, Billy,” you scold him. “Time and place, please.”
Suddenly, the vibe changes. You can practically feel the heat through the phone.
“What, you’ve never heard of that expression before?” Billy demands. “It was a fucking joke, don’t get so butthurt.”
“Is it really a joke?” you hiss. “Because if we revisit the timeline, you haven’t been exactly nice to me either.”
“OH MY…” Billy sighs in exasperation. “I can’t say SHIT to you without you crying about it. Maybe those bitches are onto something. Maybe YOU’RE the fucking problem.”
“How can you say that?!” you shout.
The change in your tone causes Eddie to look up from his computer. Like second nature, the tears free fall from your eyes as you scream at your brother through the phone.
“After I vent to you about EVERYTHING, Billy, really?!”
“I don’t know, maybe since so many people have a problem with you…including ME,” your brother snaps. “'Think it’s time we look at the common denominator.”
“YOU KNOW WHAT FUCK YOU! I don’t know why I tell you anything anymore!”
“YEAH WELL FUCK YOU TOO BITCH!” Billy screams back. “I’m GLAD you and that scrawny red-headed BRAT moved out. My life has NEVER BEEN THIS PEACEFUL!”
“Yeah cause you were SO unbothered you had to FLY HERE and CONFRONT ME AT MY JOB, RIGHT?”
It’s a few more nasty exchanges of words and threats before you hang up and chuck your phone at the wall. Startled, and probably reminded of his own traumas, Eddie’s first instinct is to duck. You watch as he trembles slightly, like a puppy during a thunderstorm, before removing his cupped hands away from his ears.
He then makes his way over to you, demeanor shifting from alarmed to alarmed for you.
“Hey,” Eddie whispers to you in consolation. “Hey hey hey hey. Come here. Come here.”
He rocks you in place. Immediately you collapse into Eddie’s arms. You’re absolutely tired. Tired of the Hellfire girls. Tired of putting on a happy face for your little sister 24/7. Tired of Billy. Tired of feeling like a burden.
“I fucking hate him,” you wail. “I hate him, I hate him. I hate him.”
“You don’t need him.”
“I don’t need him.”
“You don’t need him.”
“I don’t,” you tell Eddie, and yourself. “Fuck him. Fuck California. Fuck everything.”
“That’s right baby,” Eddie whispers. He plants a soft kiss onto your forehead. “You’re staying here with me.”
“With you.”
𓆩♡𓆪
Eventually you do get over it and decide that Billy and the Hellfire Girls don’t deserve any of your time and energy.
Just in time for another work shift. Today you’re doing personal lap dances at VECNA’S LAIR, but it’s not too busy so you’re essentially scanning the room in search of clients for the first hour.
Your eyes light up when you pinpoint a few regulars. You skip on over to the first one.
“Hi, Barry!” you exclaim. “How are you?”
“Oh, god! Hello Shy Girl!” Barry replies. He looks happy to see you, but oddly not particularly excited. “How…have you been?”
“I’ve been well! Long time no see!” you smile. “How are your boys?”
“They’re doing well,” your regular nods. “They’re working on their college applications right now, and the younger one has been scouted for some schools on the East Coast for football.”
“You must be so proud.”
“Very!”
It seems like Barry has cut the conversation there. Strange, because he almost always requests a dance. You decide to push for more information.
“Sooo, are you in the mood for a dance today?”
“You’re a sweetheart,” Barry blushes. “But no thank you, not today. I’m trying to save money so I’m just gonna have a drink and go.”
Now THAT’S really odd. First of all, Barry is LOADED, hence being a regular. And even if being frugal was the case, what was his ass even doing at Hellfire? You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by prying further so you just leave it at that, wishing Barry a lovely rest of his day and going about your day.
When you leave, you’re taken aback when Justice makes her way over to your client and asks him the same question.
“Hi, Barry. Would you like a dance?”
“Oh, hi! Yes, I’d love one!”
You nearly get whiplash just by how fast you crane your neck back over to them. What the actual fuck? Eyeing them curiously, you watch as Barry slips a 20 over to Justice, to which she takes from him seductively as she sinks onto his lap. Her eyes trail over to you, somewhat satisfied with herself when she sees you watching. Your blood starts to boil. She just took your regular. And in a sense, your money.
But that’s still something you don’t have time to entertain. So you strut over to your next regular, Asher.
Sweet, sweet Asher. He’s significantly younger than Barry. Finance major, freelancer, only child in his early twenties and his parents are rich. Asher has always been nice to you, and like Steve, spoils the fuck out of you when you’re his dancer.
“Hey you,” you bat your lashes at him. “Long time no see!”
“Oh my god, Shy Girl!” Asher exclaims. He doesn’t hug you like he usually does, but he’s still happy to see you. “It’s been a minute. I actually didn’t think you were coming in today.”
“I’m always on Thursdays,” you point out. “You always get a dance from me.”
“Ohhh, that’s right,” Asher recalls. “You and Eddie call today Friday Junior Junior.”
“Yeah, silly!” you giggle. “Speaking of dances, would you like one?”
Your question generates a similar reaction from Asher like Barry had given you. It was then that you knew something had to have been up. But nothing could’ve possibly prepared you for what Asher was about to say.
“Oh, no thanks!” your client gracefully declines. “I think I’ll wait until you fully recover. I hope you’re okay with that boundary of mine.”
Appalled, you try to construe what he meant by that.
“Yes, I respect your boundaries of course…” you say. “But, what do you mean by get better?”
“Aren’t you sick?” Asher questions. “And like…taking antibiotics for something serious? Cause if you are, you shouldn’t be at work.”
Asher respectfully ends your conversation right then and there. It’s like a mental door has closed on your face. Completely distraught, you walk away from your other reliable regular, just to have Lady walk up to him and be granted permission to give him a dance.
This is ridiculous. You need to get to the bottom of these rumors right away. On your way to the bar, you run into Nina. She extends her arms out to you, eyes widening as you walk towards her.
“OMG, Shy Girl!” Nina exclaims, rather panicked. “What are you doing here girl, you need to be home recovering?!”
“Recovering from what?” you snapped. “I just had TWO regulars turn me down but then say yes to dances from other dancers. Why did I have to learn through the grapevine that I’m sick?! Which I am not, by the way.”
“So… you don’t have gonorrhea?”
Your eyes nearly pop out of your head.
“WHO THE FUCK SAID I HAD GONORRHEA?!”
Nina’s face drops when she realizes. You don’t even have to pry any further now. The pained look on your friend’s face told you EXACTLY who started that rumor.
Now those girls are pushing it. Because now you’re losing out on money and clientele. Absolutely aggravated, you storm back into the dressing room to collect yourself because you’re sure as hell not going to let them see you fall apart.
When you slam the door, you allow yourself to have a good cry. Luckily, Nina and Chrissy are the only ones in there with you. The only girls you trust at this establishment besides Nancy.
You’re not sad. You’re crying because you’re angry and frustrated. Nina and Chrissy understand, swarming you with hugs and validating back pats, letting you cry until you had no tears left to do so anymore.
“Shy Girl,” Nina frowns. “I have no words.”
Your bottom lip quivers profusely as you shake your head.
“I just don’t understand,” you choke. “Why are they so horrible to me? I didn’t do anything to them.”
“I’m really sorry love,” Chrissy rubs your back as she lays her head on your shoulder. “Unfortunately, I understand that all too well. They did the same thing to me too.”
STRIKE THREE, YOU’RE OUT.
“God, you need a new car, Munson.”
You’re smoking with Eddie in his van during your ‘joint’ lunch break. It’s become a tradition now for you two to take your meals at the same time to spend time with each other because you’re both way too busy to be affectionate work.
“Babe, really?” Eddie huffs jokingly. “Put some respect on Shiela’s name. She’s been through hell and back with me.”
You giggle as you take a huge drag from your blunt, inhaling then expelling, coughing up the remainder and taking in the slight comfort of a warm chest. You pass Eddie the blunt to finish it.
“But you’re right though,” Eddie admits with a sigh. He fiddles with the blunt before putting it out on his ash tray. “The good news is I’m caught up on Wayne’s bills. Next 'big boy' purchase is a new whip.”
“That’s awesome baby,” you smile. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Or a motorcycle,” Eddie smirks. “I’d love a bike.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Why not?” he quips.
Eddie leans over the center console to kiss your temple. When you hum in pleasure, he begins trailing down your neck.
“Thought you liked bad boys.”
You and Eddie proceed to have a healthy debate. It isn’t about the bad boy aesthetic like Eddie thinks it’s about, but more so the practicality of the situation. Eddie needs something to lug groceries in when he's out running errands, and with Wayne still getting active cancer treatments, the old man needs a ride to his appointments. And that poor man has aged out of the Bad-to-the-Bone 'cyclist scene, you’re afraid.
“Speaking of practicality,” Eddie says. He nods towards your red Toyota Camry that’s parked on the opposite end of the lot. “Why’d you park there? Move your car closer so I don't have to walk you too far tonight.”
You look through the rearview mirror to locate your baby. Eddie was right. It was parked further than it usually is, and if your boyfriend isn’t the one escorting you to your car tonight it’s going to be Henry or one of the other boys who are sure to complain. By the door would be convenient for everyone.
“Okay,” you say. You kiss him. “Be right back.”
You climb out of Eddie's van and make your way over to your car. After several tries, you hit a scary realization.
Your car won’t start.
You try again. And again, and again. Still, to no avail. Eddie eventually pops his head out, wondering why the ordeal is taking you so long. You exaggerate a shrug to him so he could see your sense of panic from a distance.
"What happened?!"
"It won't start!"
“Let me at her,” Eddie replies. “I was a mechanic before I started a business…”
You and Eddie switch places and you decide to wait for him by the door. Jonathan startles you a moment later when he opens it abruptly.
“Sorry, Shy Girl. The boys need Eddie for a minute can you go grab him for me?”
“He’s taking a look at my car, it won’t start,” you explain.
Jonathan’s face drops. “Oh no, that sucks. Hope you don’t have to take it in.”
“I hope so too. Either way I’ve got a ride home. It’s just inconvenient.”
Jonathan, whose knowledgeable about cars too, starts asking you some screening questions to help identify the problem. You assure him that nothing was wrong with it throughout the week, and there surely wasn’t anything wrong with it earlier.
Soon Chrissy comes out too.
“Hey!” she chimes. “Where’s Eddie? The boys are looking for him.”
“He’s looking at my car, something’s wrong with it,” you explain again. “It was fine this morning but when I went go move it, it kinda just—”
“Found the culprit,” Eddie grunts uneasily.
Your boyfriend waves you three over and you all follow suit. There's soot and grease all over your man's hands, but that is a kink to be explored much later. For now, the astonished look on his face is one of the main things to worry about.
Eddie points to your gas tank.
“There’s a shit ton of sugar there. The fuel in that tank is practically semi-solid.”
Sugar in your gas tank. THOSE BITCHES PUT SUGAR IN YOUR GAS TANK. You and Chrissy look at each other immediately, both of your suspicions about whose responsible practically ringing true.
“I know who fucking did it,” you shake your head.
“I-” Eddie’s face drops. He is utterly disappointed in the Hellfire Girls. “I just don’t even know what to say.”
He reaches into his pocket to grab his phone. Suddenly, your phone pings. It’s a Venmo notification.
“But less saying more doing, right?” Eddie tries to chuckle optimistically. “I just sent you $2K. Wayne’s cancer is acting up again, and I have to take him to his oncologist tomorrow. You let me know if they quote you for more than that.”
“Two grand?!” you shriek. “It’s bad huh?”
“Yeah…I ain’t gonna sugarcoat it, sweetheart,” Eddie frowns. “You might need a fuel tank replacement.”
Now you and Chrissy are fuming. Nina eventually comes over to check on everyone as well and is stunned by the news she hears. She starts to angrily take off her hoops, those fucking cunts, but Jonathan stops her.
“I’ll fuck ‘em up!” Nina insists. “I’m from Nocturna, baby. We don’t mess around there.”
“My ex was from Chula, and my brother is Billy,” you tsk. “We don’t play around either.”
Eddie puts his hands on his hips. “I guess we’ll call the tow company to come take it to Dave’s. I can take you home tonight, baby. It’s no issue.”
“No!” Chrissy snaps. “Nina and I are taking her home. If there’s no issue here, fix the evident ones inside!”
“Let’s go back inside Shy Girl,” Nina grumbles. “This is ridiculous.”
Your two friends are at either sides of you, linking your arms with theirs in solidarity. Those girls inside are about to get an earful. NO ONE messes with YOU and gets away with it.
“EDDIE,” Chrissy forewarns before slamming the door. “FUCKING PUT THEM IN CHECK, OR WE WILL.”
You’re too distraught to say anything. Otherwise, you would totally be ripping some cheap extensions out out some heads right now. You can’t believe these girls would go as far as to damaging your property, all because Eddie found someone who made him happy after his shitty divorce. If you did to them what they did to you, you know they definitely wouldn’t like that.
CLOSED FOR THE REST OF THE NIGHT DUE TO STAFFING ISSUES. SORRY FOR EDGING YOU :/
It was Eddie’s decision to close early because there was just so much that needed to be taken care of. But hearing Eddie scold and hold the girls accountable in his office, you know — the same office he was screwing you in — was music to your ears.
But even that state of bliss is short-lived. Because like a deadly virus, when the smear campaign doesn’t work, it mutates into a much larger issue: retaliation.
“See what happens when you snitch?” a voice demands. “Eddie loses out on business.”
You turn your head around to see Justice mad-dogging you with her arms crossed. You inflate your chest and stand up to her, showing no signs of intimidation.
“You’re fucking his shit up, just like his sorry ex wife,” she says to you.
You start to walk closer to her, to which Chrissy and Nina go after you right away.
“Woah woah woah there sister!” Chrissy stops you.
“Hey hey hey,” Nina joins in, helping her pull you away.
But Justice isn’t scared. Why should she be? She’s been here longer than you. She’s known Eddie longer than you. But she still has no business butting into Eddie’s. Especially if it fuels the fire that she and her friends desperately wanted to start.
“If I were y’all… I’d back the fuck up,” you advise her. “I don’t think you realize, but you’re fucking with a Hargrove.”
“Okay… and you’re fucking with Eddie’s Day Ones,” Lady comes to Justice’s defense, sneering at you condescendingly. “Sorry, Valley Girl, we don’t know what that means here in Hawkins.”
“Oh but you will. After damaging my rep AND property.”
“Oh was that a threat? You’re threatening us now huh?”
“Eddie’s not gonna fuck you,” Nina spits at them. “You do realize that right?”
“I mean…good,” Kassidy chuckles. “Wouldn’t wanna fuck him after Miss Gonorrhea did.”
𓆩♡𓆪
Do you accept the risk? Do you accept the risk?
All this time you thought Eddie was asking you because he knew he still had some baggage to sort through. But now you’re starting to wonder if there was a double meaning.
Eddie’s OG dancers are obviously in love with him, there’s no doubt about it. It stopped becoming a matter of “protecting Eddie” when they started sabotaging your experience at Hellfire after learning of your involvement with him. Had you been just another dancer, this would never have been the case.
Eddie tries to text you. But you don’t have the strength to reply. The next few days is spent in isolation, using this time alone to contemplate about what it is you truly want.
You came to Hawkins to escape Billy’s never-ending torment. Now that torment has seemed to take on a new form, and your inner peace is something you’re never ever going to sacrifice again.
Your first Monday back, you make your way over to Eddie’s office. And it’s almost like Eddie knows. As much as you know how deep that abandonment wound sits in Eddie’s soul, you knew you still had to put yourself first.
“Hi, Eds.”
“Baby…” Eddie pleads at a whisper. “Don’t do this. I can already see it in your eyes.”
You weren’t leaving him. You want to be with him more than anything. But this extension of him? You can love it to bits but still not want anything to do with it. Especially if the environment is unbearably toxic.
“I just think…our relationship is bleeding into work,” you swallow hard. “And I probably need to go somewhere else if we want this to last.”
“Please don’t word the first part like that…”
Eddie doesn’t tell you because he knows it’s not your intention, but it starts giving him war-like flashbacks to when his marriage with Isabelle started bleeding into work. The abandonment wound with her — and everyone in his life except Wayne — cuts so deep. He NEEDS that bandaid. But for your well-being, you needed to rip it off.
“It’s what we get for shitting where we eat, I guess,” you sniff, trying to laugh the burden of it all away.
“I warned you,” Eddie chokes. “Didn’t I?”
“I know,” you sigh. “But I just couldn’t help how I feel about you.”
“Then stay!” he begs. “The good outweighs the bad, sweetheart. Our friends love you so much.”
“I love them too, but if I’m gonna get verbally accosted, harassed, laughed at, and have sugar put in my gas tank then what’s the point?”
The tears leave Eddie’s eyes easily, and he doesn’t stop them from doing so. If only the Hellfire girls saw the pain they have caused you AND this man — the man they swore up and down that they were ‘protecting’.
“It’s either that or you fire 60 percent of your dancers and I WON’T let you do that,” you gulp. “It’s best to get rid of just one.”
“Just please, let’s talk it through.”
But there’s nothing left to talk about. No Eddie, you shake your head. What’s done is done, and what needs to be said has already been communicated. And as Eddie hangs his head in shame, you tug at the drawstrings of your cloak, fold it up neatly, and set it down on his desk.
“I’m quitting Hellfire.”
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Do simon and bones ever get that night where they don’t have to be quiet?? And maybe simon loses himself and goes completely feral trying to pull as many noises from her as possible that make his brain melt?? 🥺
Ohhh anon. Yes, yes they do.
Love Is a Sin (Part One)
Simon “Ghost” Riley x OFC “Bones”
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Word Count: 12.2k
Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)
Smoking, mention of war and military lifestyle, use of weaponry, dirty talk, mask kink, size kink, tiny praise kink, cockwarming (kinda?), oral sex (f receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, fluffies and vulnerability, secrecy, protective Ghost (I yearn). Lmk if I missed anything!
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A/N: Enjoy part one my babies! Part two gets a little darker... I'm so excited.
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Simon “Ghost” Riley Masterlist
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It’s not often that you find yourself here, this is actually your first genuine invitation. Any other reason was to simply grab materials for a craft or files from a desk. And whenever you did that, it was by yourself. Because when the boys were in here, those doors were locked tight, their voices a muted drone in the halls. No one was allowed access into the debriefing room unless given specific clearance from Price.
“Grab a seat.” The man of the hour speaks, motioning toward the table.
They’re already gathered around the captain’s spread of plans, all three of them. And when Price speaks to you, each and every one of their heads turn, eyes and brows moving with bewilderment. None of them knew you were attending this meeting, not even Ghost.
His eyes, above anyone else’s, widen. No one moves for a moment, not until Simon stands. Rising to his feet, he towers over every man, brows narrowing before he turns, grabbing one of the folding chairs leaning against the wall. With a quick jerk of his hand, the chair unfolds into its natural position. And then, he’s setting it down beside his own seat, lowering himself once again.
Johnny cocks an eye at his somewhat gentlemanly act, and although it’s done with sweet intention, you can practically feel Simon’s aversion to your presence. You knew this would upset him.
“Uncharted territory.” Price declares, a single, thick finger slamming down onto the map. “And that’s why we need her.” That finger is then directed at you. And as each man turns their head, you don’t feel intimidation, but pride, swelling within you.
But your partner, on the other hand, finds his insides rotting with disapproval. They knew where they’d be going, they knew what they’d be risking, but they had no idea they’d have to bring you. But aside from Simon, everyone there seemed thrilled.
“Finally get to see what yer all about.” Soap grins, giving you a rather rough pat on the back.
Gaz smiles, leaning onto the table with his forearms. “She knows what she’s doing.”
“Damn right.” And when you look up, Price is beaming with pride. He brought you to the base for a reason; he always knew you’d be a reliable member. “She’s the best we’ve got, and we’re gonna need all the help we can get.”
All this talk and Simon’s head hasn’t turned once, his eyes fixed completely on you. His stare is almost blank, lost, void of emotion as he begins to dissociate from this. Before you, only his family had gotten so close to him. And even now, you’re more important to him than they ever were. He’s never let himself get so wrapped up in this type of thing, an actual relationship. And now he’s going to be bringing you with him? He’s never even so much as trained with you. You’re not ready for this, and neither is he. But your unpreparedness is clearly developing in different ways.
“Ghost.”
Snapping his gaze toward the captain, he jostles his head. “Yeah?”
“We’re gonna need your head in the game for this one.”
“Always.”
And just like that, you’re running through the plans. No man’s land, disputed ground between your team and the enemy. Many squadrons have been deployed and just as many have died. With the team specializing in infiltration, counter-terrorism and covert assignment, they were the next group to be tasked with the mission. This wasn’t going to be a simple assignment.
But honestly, you’re not here for any of that. You don’t specialize in any type of infiltration or counter-terrosim techniques. Right now, you’re a medic, and with the zone they’re invading, Price wants you on deck in case anyone gets hurt. They have a better chance of making it through if they have someone that can quickly wrap up a wound. It also helps that you have experience in the field, but both physically and mentally. Before becoming a medic, and now lead medic at the base, you specialize in close quarter combat and weapons tactics, traits Price found just as valuable. He knows you won’t hold them back.
Simon knows all of this, he knows better than anyone just how good you are at this. But you’ve never experienced this kind of warfare, and he doesn’t want you to witness it. He also doesn't want you to witness the kind of man he is during it.
“We’re due to set off tomorrow evening. We’ll use the cover of night to be dropped in over the mountains, where we’ll then hike. It’s about a twenty kilometer trek from there to the safe house. There, we’ll get our rest, reconvene and set out for the building.”
Sliding his finger to one portion of the map, he displays the safe house’s location. Continuing to move, he then shows just how close the targeted building is.
Price’s voice dips dangerously low when he explains, “Only eight kilometers away.”
“How is it a safe house if it’s that close to enemy lines?” Soap asks, twisting his face in confusion.
“The enemy has yet to infiltrate that forest, they know nothing of its ground or the layout. They wouldn’t risk crossing uncharted territory just to explore a piece of land they aren’t interested in. Besides, the house is surrounded by landmines and snares, something we’ll need to pay attention to and avoid.”
With emphasis on his last word, those deep baby blues then drift to Gaz, who’s trying to duck away like some embarrassed tortoise. “I know, I know.” The team remembers Gaz’s mistake far too well, tossing a rock to test the space before nearly blowing himself to bits.
“Any other questions?”
About a million, though he doesn’t say it. They all revolve around you, anyway.
“Right.” Slapping a hand against the table, he then stands. “We’re clear to move out tomorrow evening, eighteen hundred hours. Am I clear?”
“Clear.” The three men proclaim in unison, prompting you to jump slightly in your seat. And Ghost chuckles.
“C-Clear.” You repeat, feeling foolish doing so by yourself.
Price grins, giving you a cheeky wink. He knows you’ll fit in given the right amount of time. “Night lads.” Your captain then states, giving you a nod. “And lass.”
*
*
*
Everything feels thick and heavy - your clothes, the air, the shaft invading your most intimate space. His sighs are full of spearmint and tobacco, hints of his cologne floating up to your nose. Every sense feels invigorated, the emotions of embarrassment and exposure melting away just from being in his presence. Simon calms you, he grounds you.
“Christ,” His breaths come out in humid puffs, seeping out through the top crack of the window. It intermingles with the nighttime air, the darkening atmosphere as it fades to dusk. “You don’t know what you do to me.”
Bulky arms wrap around your midsection, one hand dipping down to fist your ass. It’s then that you feel him pulse against your walls, prompting a delighted sigh from your throat.
“I think I know.” Your sultry voice responds, hips moving gracefully over his pelvis. But your breaths are still heavy, enjoying the cool breeze that occasionally drifts in. And those heavy wafts of air soak into his neck when you lean in, running your lips over his ear. “I think I know exactly what I do to you.”
Those sweetly sinful words give the allusion of rough and quick sex, all teeth and tongue and torn clothes. But that’s not what this is about, not right now, not at all. It’s passionate, sensual, but slow and needy, too. Your motions are relaxed, Simon’s hands encouraging the gradual roll of your hips. And when you’re not speaking to him, or him to you, you’re lifting yourself up to his mouth. Here, the tips of your tongues touch, just barely dancing together as you tease one another, before inevitably falling back down to mouth tenderly at his neck.
“You’re so fucking good,” He praises, thick fingers pressing into your backside as he pants briefly. “Give me more, oh, god… more.”
Rocking his hips upward, he meets your sensual rolls, finding unison with you. From the moment you crawled onto his lap in the backseat of his Jeep, his eyes were on you, on your pretty face and every expression you make. Even now, he reaches out, cupping your cheek and bringing you down to him with a gentle force that screams Simon.
His mouth consumes your own, his entire tongue sliding inside while his moan vibrates down your throat. It’s then that he twitches against your delicate channel, gasping into your mouth, breathing in your air. Holding you down on his lap, he forces you to still, now choosing to thrust up.
“Simon,”
“God,” He groans, shoving himself up into your center over and over again. And at this point, it’s a familiar feeling, the sensation of being overly full, stretched to your limit and still wanting more. “Love it when you say my name.”
Leaning backward against the seat, he urges you to put your weight on his chest, planting his feet on the floor of the car to gain better leverage. Here, he punches himself into your sex, reveling in the way it squeezes hotly around him.
“Fucking C-Christ.”
The Jeep rocks from the force of it, your collective moans spilling out into the nighttime air. But neither of you are worried. You’d found this spot to be particularly secluded, even from the constant patrols. Parked amongst the trees with the car off, at nearly midnight, seemed to be your new routine. It was the closest you could get to feeling free.
“Take it off.” Your Lieutenant then requests, one hand lifting to your chest.
He palms you roughly, slowing the action down as he then decides on a tender rub; he wants to show you how gentle he can be. So, while considering both his actions and words, he moves carefully, speaks gently. “Can I see?”
“Mhm,” With a wide grin, you nod, glancing down to undo the front of your quarter zip. The easiest way to give him access is to guide your sports bra up and over the tops of your breasts, exposing yourself to him.
“Oh,” Ghost groans, ducking his head into the crook of your neck. “Lovely.” He says it as his hand returns, doing his best to not let the material of his glove scratch you too rough.
Your lover’s touch has grown quite accustomed to your feminine features, your smooth skin, your most delicate places. Instead of running over it with quick motions, his thumb touches your nipple gently, just barely rubbing tiny circles into it. And he listens to your breath, too. The lungs give everything away.
“Baby, please…”
“What d’you want, love?” Mumbling into your neck, he kisses it, loosening his grip and allowing you to move again. And instantly, you do, wrapping your arms around his neck and bouncing down onto him.
“Oh, fuck me.”
Now that your shirt is open, it leaves you vulnerable to the roughness of his tac vest. And it scratches you harshly, zippers and velcro scraping across your sensitive skin. But in truth, you like it. It’s almost like another mark he can give.
“Fuck, those whimpers… that’s gonna make me bust right inside.”
Regardless of your place in the woods, you still have to keep yourself quiet. You and Simon have yet to have a night where you can fully be yourselves, where you can fully indulge in each other. This has been the closest thing to it.
“S-Simon,” Your voice is light, airy and shaky. And you’re clinging to him for dear fucking life, because not only has he matched your fervent pace, he’s exceeded it. “Baby.”
“Take it,” He nearly growls, “Take it in your tight cunt.”
The muscles lining your insides flutter from his words, from his brute force. Sex with Simon was always so passionate, so intimate; it was a different type of experience. And you’ve fully leaned into it since the first night you got to experience him.
“Fucking hell, princess, I can feel it. You’re gonna cum on me.” And he really can; your velvety center pulsing around him, around the thick intrusion repeatedly splitting you open.
But the way he says it almost embarasses you, and he chuckles when you duck down to hide your face from him. Smooshing your cheeks against his neck, your quiet grunts come with his every thrust.
“C’mon, baby.” He coos with a grin, encouraging you. And something about Simon using the word baby makes you absolutely swoon. “Like it when you cum on me… you know that.”
It’s then that you finally give in, a sense of pleasure bursting from your lower pelvis and reaching into every limb. The entire sensation is a true release, mentally and physically. Both of his hands find your backside as he rides you through it, squeezing harshly while your pelvis ruts over him, your entire body trembling.
“That’s it…” Eyes rolling back, he drops his head against the seat’s headrest. But his hold on you hasn’t given up just yet.
His own euphoria shoots from his insides when your fingernails find him, digging into his skin. Your slender digits scratch at his neck, at the tendons between his throat and shoulder, and it just fucking sends him.
Ghost has gotten quite comfortable releasing inside you. The two of you had forgone condoms fairly quickly. And in the beginning, it was due to the rush of things, the need to have the other right then and there, or at least, as soon as you could. But now, it’s for the feeling, the intimacy. There’s really nothing else like it. In truth, he always hated the latex barrier when it came to you.
Shivering briefly, you release an affectionate breath, a shaky inhale before cuddling into him. Used to this reaction by now, both of those bulky arms wrap around your back, holding you against his chest. He finds it endearing, your need for closeness, especially as the two of you come down.
Smoothing a hand over your head, he kisses the top of it, rumbling to you in that deep, entrancing voice, “You’re so good for me.”
And he means it in more ways than this. Truly, you bring out the niceness in him, whatever amount of it he has left. The longer you and Simon stayed together, the more you connected, the more you felt like you could really do this. Your relationship could be sustainable, and you could be vulnerable.
Every chance Simon got, he took to your side. In the training yard, he’d lift weights adjacent to your station. In the cafeteria, he always saved you a seat next to him. And in the debriefing room, he pulled up a chair for you beside him. And while the two of you were busy gravitating towards each other, your teammates were busy with eyeing your movements. It was starting to look suspicious.
“You alright, love?”
Even when he’s done, and his breaths have steadied, he rests inside you. He did this often, especially when you rode him. While your need for closeness was expressed with words, his was expressed with actions. And this action, was one of his favorites.
“Mhm,” Grinning, your eyes shut, your body weight resting comfortably on his chest. Removing your arms from around his neck, they instead loop around his wide midsection, hugging him.
He’d been trying to ignore the issue at hand, the issue that’s only an issue to him. And while you riding him was more than a good enough distraction, now, he was now in his head again. Feeling you wrap your arms around him softens something inside his heart, and now more than ever, he wants to keep you protected.
With a small grunt, he shifts, arms lifting behind your back. Listening closely, you can hear the velcro separating on his hand, and then the drop of a single glove onto the seat to your left. Simon’s warmth then envelopes your chest, the slow drag of his naked hand across your breasts. He caresses them fondly, before focusing on the right.
“Didn’t get to enjoy these much.” Your soldier murmurs, cupping your tit and pushing it up toward his waiting mouth.
Lips, warm and wet, wrap around your nipple, sucking softly on it. His palm is warm, fingers pressing into your smooth flesh. It’s his favorite part of you, after all. He knew it before even seeing their bare skin.
“Hm…” Reaching up to the back of his head, you release a relaxing breath. Your head drops back as you cradle him against your chest, feeling the passionate massage he begins to give them. “Love this, Si…”
“Mm,” He moans in response, eyes closing as he enjoys you.
He feels surrounded by you, and you by him. Resting like this together feels so special, almost sacred. You crave it. A profound sense of longing fills you, and you feel foolish, because he’s right here. He’s here with you and still, you can’t get enough.
Sliding your hands around to his cheeks, your head turns as you lean in. Lips press sweetly to his second skin, the black fabric covering his temple. And it makes him chuckle quietly, kissing the slope of your breast.
“Like my mask?”
“Mhm,” Your lips curl into a devilish grin while pressing against him, holding his head even closer to you.
“Do you…” With a deep breath, he lifts his head, eyes finding you. “Do you ever wish you could see my face?”
With this question, you still, looking at him with a quietly shocked expression. Swallowing, you think before speaking, knowing that your words need to be respectful and calculated. But it only takes one for a decent response that can also be truthful.
“Yes.”
Just barely nodding, Simon’s heart pounds inside his chest. Now that he knows this, he feels like he’s disappointed you.
“But I know you don’t want to show me.” You continue, surprising him. “And that’s okay.”
And you think this is the most innocent those deep brown eyes have ever looked. His brows raise beneath the mask, taken aback by your reaction.
“It really is, Si.” And your sweet smile capitalizes on your sentiment.
Your presence in Simon’s life, the grace you give him, it all still astounds him. Some six months later and still, you continue to bring purpose to his life every single day. He hasn’t quite realized it, but that’s exactly how he sees it.
Without another word spoken, his hand rises to the back of your head, bringing you down for a passionate kiss. Your own hands slide down to his jaw, petting lightly at the blonde stubble he has. And you count yourself lucky he’s even let you see that.
“Want a smoke with me?” Simon asks against your lip, nipping at your lower one when you grin.
“Sure, baby.”
Shifting onto one side of his hip, he grabs the pack and lighter from his pants pocket before settling back onto the seat. With one item going to his lips, the other is held up to you, quick to be taken by one of your hands. It’s endearing when he does this, silently asking for a bit of help, even if it’s as small as this.
His face, the features you’ve been allowed to see, light up from the small fire. The quiet sizzle of the joint hums in this small lull before he takes a breath in, fingers grabbing the end. Turning, he releases the smoke into the air, feeling your hand drop the lighter onto the seat beside him. And while this hushed pause should resemble a sense of peacefulness, it prompts a certain worry inside you.
“Si?”
“Yeah?” When his eyes return to you, they’re squinted slightly, eyebrows furrowed. But not in anger or annoyance. What’s bothering him?
“Are you okay?” Lifting your hand, you lay it over his cheek, fingertips brushing over that black mask. “You seem…quiet. Quieter than normal.” And your small poke at him makes both of you grin.
With a sigh, he lifts the cig, offering it to you and then watching you take it. He can’t bring himself to look you in the eyes when he says, “Don’t know how I feel about you tagging along, sweets.”
Without meaning to, he questions your abilities, the same abilities you’ve trained for years to gain. But you take his comment better than he expected.
“Yeah?” You chuckle, raising a brow as you tease, “Afraid I’ll show you up?” Another puff and you’re handing it back to him, curious about what’s going on inside that skull.
“Nah, it’s nothing like that.” Casually, he shakes his head, inhaling on his pass. “Place we’re going is… it’s not a place for you to be.”
“I know it’s dangerous, Si. That’s why I’m going, so I can help you guys.” You knew it, you fucking knew he’d have an issue with you coming. You just weren’t sure how deep that worry was.
And now, he’s silent for a minute, a long minute. Looking away from your gaze, those deep eyes wander to the window, searching for the right words to say. Something along the lines of… “Just don’t want you getting hurt.”
“Awe…” Again, you’re teasing, poking fun to avoid the real conflict. Neither of you want to have a serious conversation, not when your entire life is one giant critical discussion. But you have to admit, you like seeing this side of him.
Leaning in, you nuzzle his temple, your voice turning quiet and sweet. “I like it when you’re soft with me, big boy. Makes me feel like you care.”
“‘Course I do.”
And when you snuggle even further into him, his eyes close, a heavy breath released from his nose. It’s a silent response, his body reacting to your genuine adoration for him. He makes sure to keep his head still, wanting you to continue the loving motion. And you do, reveling in the way his arm returns to circle around you.
It’s not about him doubting you, it’s about him protecting you. He knows you can handle yourself, and he found that incredibly attractive when you first met. But now? He just wants to keep you safe, make sure you stay on base and never have to see combat again. But Price was the one to call the shot this time.
On the other hand, Ghost is also worried about the team. Specifically, he’s worried about them discovering your relationship. No one knows about the two of you except for Johnny, and neither of you want anyone else to find out. And if you somehow get hurt out there, his emotions are sure to expose themselves. There’s not a single chance his affection for you won’t show, his angry and possessive nature sure to shine through. After that, they’re bound to figure it out.
“I’ll be with you,” Comes your gentle response. “How could I ever get hurt when I’m with you?”
Sweet, he thinks. But it’s not enough to reassure him.
*
*
*
The helo ride is easy, nothing that gives you jitters in any sort of way. The only thing you wish was different, was the view - there isn’t one. The entire ride is done with complete cover, not a window in sight as you all sit in the far back, strapped to your seats and waiting to be told otherwise.
Johnny had insisted you hunker down with him, he honestly wants to get to know you a bit more. Especially now that you’re dating his best friend. He also wanted to distract said friend; Simon needs to keep his head on straight. But Ghost wasn’t having any of that. Not because he was worried Soap would make a move, but because he promised himself you wouldn’t be leaving his side for even a second throughout this trip.
While sitting beside each other, you find yourself wanting him, yearning for his touch, to lean against his shoulder or even hold his hand. But the closest you two settle for is the touching of your knees. Around the boys, you manspread just like them. So, while leaning back in your seat, you do just that. And of course, Simon doesn’t move an inch. He likes your need for touch, it matches his quite nicely. It might even make him smile beneath his mask.
“Drop point,” Price announces, “Comin’ up fast.”
And upon command, the four of you release your buckles, standing to correct your straps. Simon eyes you from his peripheral as you adjust your vest, leaning down to check the pistol in your thigh holster and then the one secured to your stomach. He finds it attractive, watching you train your knowledge of weapons. But he shakes those thoughts out of his head. Right now, he’s making sure the way you’re loading them is correct.
Hovering above the designated location, each of you approaches the sliding door. Once Price tosses the rope down, he’s the first one on it, landing on the ground with a firm thud and immediately securing the area. Then, Gaz, Soap, and Ghost. You’re last, and it’s for your best interest. It gives you the advantage of watching them, taking notes on how to do this. And when you finally secure your gloves and grab hold of the rope, you look to them on the ground. But it’s not the team you find. Grinning, your eyes immediately lock, his trained on you beneath that stoic mask. He’s standing at the bottom, staring up and waiting for you. And all he wants to do is tell you to stay, or at the very least, catch you. But all he can do is watch as you slide down, restraining himself from wrapping his arm around you once you’re on the ground.
His Reckoner gear is menacing, though his attire usually is. The black jacket matches the shawl slung loosely around his neck, draping down onto his chest. Shielding him from the rapidly growing winds is his outfit’s hood, tight around his head and mask. You find yourself favoring this look, so dark and mysterious. It’s how you first saw him when you met. And you’re dressed similarly, your entire outfit made up of black and gray canvas, a scarf around your neck and gloves on your hands, with your own hood up, too.
Only a small part of you tries to separate yourself from him, but it doesn't reach surface level, not even close. Regardless of wanting to hide your relationship, you stick to each other like glue. Taking his position at the rear of the group, he makes sure to keep his strides in line with you, matching your pace expertly as you continue forward.
The silence between you is comfortable, familiar, and again, you find yourself longing for him. With a devious thought creeping into your mind, you let your hand fall to your side, wandering further enough to swipe your pinky across his thumb.
“Think you’re ready for this?” A deep, Scottish accent suddenly asks.
Jumping sharply, your hand instantly flinches away from your lieutenant. “W-What?”
“Bit jumpy, there?”
Smirking, you roll your eyes, hands grabbing the straps of your vest. “I’m just fine, Johnny.” And then, you nod, feigning an air of smugness. “What about you?”
“Born ready, sweetheart.”
Ghost huffs. “Born a pretty boy.” But even he’s grinning as he says it.
“Fuckin’ grump,” Soap teases, walking backward and just ahead of you two so he can continue talking. “We’re only an hour in.”
“And still needing to secure our position.” Dad - Price, snaps, reminding Soap to keep his voice down.
At this, Johnny’s eyes widen, his body jerking around before jogging forward to catch up with the rest of the group. You chuckle at his reaction, but Ghost doesn’t make another sound as you continue. He’s too busy with his own thoughts to converse with you.
Flurries of snow buzz around your covered heads, sticking to the fabric of your scarves, the hairs of your eyelashes and the scruff on the boys’ chins. It brings about a certain childlike bliss, a winter wonderland in the midst. Smiling innocently at the beautiful landscape around you, those joyful emotions soon dissipate alongside your captain’s voice.
“Ice ahead.” He declares, signaling for the rest of you to ready yourselves. And with a deep breath, that’s just what you attempt to do.
“Grab your ice axe.” Simon murmurs, twisting around to grab his own.
“I know.” You sass, reaching back for the tools in your pack.
Easily, he dismisses your attitude. All he wants is for you to be prepared, adding on, “A bundle of rope, too.
Approaching the mountain, you ready yourself. Almost as if staring a beast in the eye, you stand flat on your feet, staring up at the vast landscape. It’s intimidating, this imposing piece of nature. Familiar winds sweep across the rocky edges, brushing the snow from its various levels. And beneath it lay thick layers of ice, sheet after sheet sliding down the summit’s side.
“You and I can go first, get to the top fast as we can.” Simon decides, planting a hand on your lower back and ushering you toward the front of the group.
“Why?”
“Let’s go.” Easily, Simon pushes his way forward, right beside you.
His added attention to your every move is noticeable within the group. And honestly, it’s starting to irritate you. To an extent, it’s insulting, especially in front of the other men. But you need to focus on the task at hand, and that doesn’t include any of your emotions about him.
Reaching up, a small grunt is released as you swing your pick, digging it into the ice. And once Simon is sure you have your footing, he starts up right alongside you. He’s below your stance and slightly to your right, watching your steps while trying to keep his own in check. But to his surprise, you’re doing fairly well for your first time. The burn in your muscles is nothing compared to the determination to prove Price right. He won’t regret bringing you on this mission.
However, repeatedly hoisting your body up while trying to find your footing is becoming increasingly difficult as you go on, gravity beginning to weigh heavy against your body. Every step is met with a disgruntled groan or grunt, with Ghost’s echoing below you. Eventually, you start to hear the rest of the team’s noises, each man climbing up at their own pace.
“You alright, lass?”
“Ye-ah,” Comes your breathy response, releasing an airy laugh. “This isn’t so h–hard.”
You’re speaking as you climb, with every other word coming out between some type of guttural noise. And further beneath your feet, Johnny laughs in return.
“McTavish, watch your footing.” Price chides, his voice hurried and a bit frantic. It startles you. “McTavish!”
Breaking open your seemingly sound world is the sudden cracking of ice, your eyes going wide. The sound of frozen water splitting between the five of you echoes along the summit’s climb, and soon after, your teammates’ yells, too.
“Soap!”
Glancing down, you barely have time to react before Ghost is barking at you. “Head up!”
Instantly, your head snaps upward, breaths labored as worry consumes you. Your ears ring with the sudden spike of adrenaline forcing blood through your veins, heart pumping from the appearance of your base instincts.
“Keep going!” He continues to shout, “That’s an order, Bones!”
With everything in you, you want to look down, especially when you hear the boys’ continuation of panicked shouts. But beside you, Ghost’s movements pick up, your own now excelling forward, too.
Simon’s chest heaves beside you as he scrambles up the side of the mountain, your movements now just as fast. Stab after stab, you hurl your arms upward against the ice, forcing the axe into the thick sheets.
“S-Simon.”
“Keep going.” Is all he says, all he’s able to say.
And in the blink of an eye, you’re at the top curve. Simon hauls himself over the side, immediately leaning over the cliff’s edge to reach for your hand.
“Take it! Take it now!”
“Price!” Gaz yells in the distance, a heavy thud heard at the bottom of the cliff.
“John.” You barely whimper, thinking the worst has come.
The firm grip of your lieutenant’s hand suddenly wraps around your wrist, yanking you up and over the edge. You land on your stomach with a hard unff, Simon’s hand now settling over your lower back. He can’t see anything, a thick dusting of snow covering the lower half of their climb. For a moment, he thinks about yelling, but chooses to flick on his comms instead.
“Price?” He questions into the mic, eyes searching frantically for any one of them. “Soap?”
“We’re here.”
“What the bloody hell happened?”
“Wrong, wrong move.” Johnny huffs through the link. “Ice cracked, Price fell. Me shortly after; Gaz was still close to the ground.”
“Anyone hurt?”
“Just a bit.” Price finally answers, and this is when you move to sit up. But Simon’s firm hand on your back keeps you down. “I’ll be fine, just a sore back.”
“Orders?” Now that he knows no one is severely injured, he needs to know the team’s next moves. He is second in command, after all.
“Simon?” Again, you try to push yourself up, but the pressure he applies becomes firmer, his fingers curling into your jacket.
“Stay.” He demands, his voice dark and stern. If you were anyone else, you’d think it was a warning.
“We’ll have to trek around, but…” Trailing off for a moment, the captain finishes with, “It’ll add a day to our hike.”
A moment of silence passes, and Simon leans away from the cliff, settling beside you. Finally, he lets you up, turning his head as he watches you gather your bearings beside him.
“Hike on,” Price decides. “Secure the safe house, we’ll be a day behind. This path is lost.”
“No reconvene?” Ghost clarifies, wondering if the team should get their heads on straight after being separated like this. And upon this suggestion, Price grows silent in thought.
“Setting up camp would be smart. Give us a rest, some time to calm down and gather ourselves.” He finally agrees, then declaring, “We’ll stay for the night; right thinking, Ghost. We’re to be up and moving no later than dawn, am I clear?”
“Clear. I’ll expect your comms in twenty-four.”
“Affirmative. Bravo Six, out.”
With that, Simon stands, your eyes trailing up his large figure while he adjusts his gear. Labored breaths continue to form within your lungs, now stung from the harsh winter air.
“What’s going on?”
“We’re heading off on our own.” Your partner confirms, brushing the snow from his pants.
“How are they? Is anyone hurt?” The comms transferred to his earpiece, you were only able to hear his responses.
“Nothing severe, they’re choosing a different path. It’ll add a day, but Price wants us to continue on.” Tilting your head, your curious expression prompts further information from him. “We’ll make camp for the night though, give us time to rest.”
“And then what?”
“We’ll locate and secure the safehouse, wait for them to arrive.” Leaning down, he holds a hand out, helping you up once you take it. “You alright?”
Now that you’re alone, he grabs your shoulders, rubbing them for both comfort and warmth. “You’re shivering.”
“Just cold.” Shrugging, you brush it off as just that, feeling chilly. Though, it’s partially due to shock, and Simon knows it. It’s been more than five years since you were last in the field; maybe you weren’t fully ready for this.
“You’re alright, love.” Guiding you to his chest, he sighs, holding the back of your head. “No one’s hurt.”
All you do is nod against him, pulling up your big girl pants and shoving aside your emotions. He’s right, everything’s fine, just a small bump in the road.
“We should make camp.” He suggests, the surrounding scenery darkening as he speaks.
Your current location is far enough away to make a small fire and not draw any attention from the targeted enemy. So naturally, it’s the first thing Simon does, right after finding a small patch of brush for you to set the tent. It’s a small thing, just barely big enough to fit one man. But neither of you mind squeezing inside together. You don’t have sleeping bags, but what you do have are Mylar thermal blankets. Which will have to do, and are actually useful in these situations.
“Bones.” Ghost quietly calls, and when you look over your shoulder, you find him huddled near the fire. He then jerks his head to the side, beckoning for you. “Cm’over here.”
While rubbing your hands together, you make your way over to him, sitting down by the little fire he’s built. It’s enough to bring you warmth, though, the pulsing embers doing wonders for your frozen appendages.
“Any better?”
“A little better.” With your hands outstretched toward the flames, you nod, eyes trained on the wispy bits of fire floating through the wind.
Upon your response, he scooches closer, positioning himself behind you. Here, he spreads his legs, laying them on either side of your own and pulling you in between them, right up against his chest. You smile as he drags you back, allowing him to hold you between his legs. His cold, covered chin then finds your shoulder, both arms wrapping around your midsection.
Rumbling to you quietly, he asks again, “Any better?”
The smile on your face burns brighter than the fire. “A lot better.”
Shifting slightly, you relax into his body, basking in the fact that you can so openly cuddle up together. And when he feels your entire weight fall into him, he hums, kissing your shoulder through the mask. He’s become such an affectionate man around you.
Inside, your heart beats for him. Thinking back to the scenario on the cliff, you replay Simon’s protective acts in your head. His verbal directions, both before and during the event, his physical motions of pulling you up to safety and then keeping a hand on your back.
“Si?”
“Hm?” He returns, mouth full of a protein bar. While you ponder your question, he hands you one, too.
“Why did you hold me down? By my back?”
He chews his food much slower now, thinking. Never before has he thought through his responses so thoroughly before meeting you. He doesn’t want to say the wrong thing; he’s quite frightened of it, actually.
“Didn’t know if anyone was hurt.” He eventually returns, and you’re confused until he finishes his statement. “Didn’t want you seeing something like that.”
And while you appreciate the meaning behind his actions, it prompts a certain fear within you. He can’t continue to fight your battles for you, not when you’re out in the field. He has to be himself, not a modified version just because you’re here. He can’t be Simon, he has to be Ghost. And still, you can’t help but feel grateful for him, all of him.
“Thank you.”
*
*
*
The day was cold but the night was frigid, your thermal blankets doing little to shield you from the frozen hell you were in. What helped build heat beneath the metallic blankets, though, were your bodies. It was Simon who suggested it, and you didn’t think twice once he did. There was nothing sexual behind it, only concern and genuine care.
As soon as you were at his side, huddled within the tent, his arms snaked tightly around your stomach. Naked beneath the crinkly cover, Simon hugged you to his body, not only for heat but for comfort. His masked face easily found its way to your neck, body curling around yours like a protective outer shell. And in this way, he warmed you, inside and out.
Feeling Simon’s naked body served to bring you a sense of relaxation you didn’t think you’d find on this mission. Being able to sleep beside him was also an incredibly relieving act you didn't think you’d get to experience while deployed. Now that it’s just the two of you, you’re free to bask in each other’s company, reveling in the sweet way your souls connect. It’s not just about physical attraction for you two, not anymore. What you have is chemical. You’ve become each other’s best friend - companions; it’s just natural for you to be together. Even like this, pressed against each other in complete nakedness without an ounce of sexual intention in the air, it wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward, not for either of you. Those bulky forearms nestled right beneath your breasts, feeling the smooth curves lay against him. And his flaccid length pressed against your backside, his strong hold keeping you nice and close throughout the night. Neither of you cared. There wasn’t room for insecurity between the two of you, not after all you’ve been through.
“You’re my girl.” Simon whispered to you, mask lifted just enough for him to kiss your ear.
His eyes were closed as he spoke, body tired and sore and lulling him to sleep. But not before murmuring, “You’re mine; mine to keep.”
But that was last night. This morning isn’t so sweet.
While Simon continued to display his ever-growing and extremely doting personality, the weather was still acting like a petty bitch. Wild winds surged through your small camp when you awoke, gathering your things once dawn hit the sky. Simon stamped out the fire, you packed up the tent, and off you went.
“How much farther is it again?”
“About twelve kilometers.”
The dramatic groan you exude makes his lips curl beneath the mask, eyes turning to witness your adorably irritated face.
“C’mon,” He teases, that smirk revealed through his tone. “You can make it.”
“Can I borrow your mask?” You then ask, a grin curling on your lips.
Rolling his eyes, they land on you, an unamused expression swirling within them.
“Look, you’re being stingy with it.” Continuing with your charade, you then add, “It’s freezing out here. My cheeks are getting all chapped.”
At this, he huffs out a single laugh. “Looks pretty damn cute to me.”
It’s interesting, you think. All of this started with you making fun of his mask, and now, you adore it. You adore him.
Both of you are thankful for the common knowledge of swift and silent movement as you trek on through the harsh, mountainous terrain. The quicker you get there, the quicker you’re able to rest. Price mentioned that the cabin even had heat and running water, a true reprieve for you all. At least, for the time being. Besides, you can’t get too carried away just yet. You still have to secure the area before enjoying it.
“Looks to be a bit easier from here.” Ghost announces, coming to stand on top of a ridge you haven’t yet arrived at. But when you do, you’re met with flat, snowy terrain.
“Thank god.”
“C’mon, hasn’t been that hard.”
And he’s right. Aside from that icy cliff incident, this hike has been a piece of cake. Nothing to complain about on your end, really; messing with Simon was just fun sometimes. He always fell for your antics, too. Something about you acting weak and frail just made him want to care for you. And that’s something you’d never protest.
Walking with you was nice and easy; you understood him and his preference for silence. It’s a trait you both shared. Why speak if there’s nothing to be said?
“Have we got a plan?” Simon then says, deciding this is something that should definitely be said.
“About?”
“The safe house, how we’re going to secure it.”
“Well, I don’t really have any experience in searching for and disarming traps. I think that’s on you, buddy.”
“Yeah?” Buddy, it makes him chuckle. “And what will you do?”
“Cover your six?” It’s a suggestion; you can still be helpful. “I can scope out the treeline, make sure Price was right about enemies not crossing over the lines.”
“Sounds like a plan, love.”
And what a good plan it was. The two of you worked like a well-oiled machine as soon as you arrived at the safe house, finally reaching your destination in the early evening. Either you just work well together, or you were simply eager for some rest. Likely both.
“Scanning.” Keeping your eye on the surrounding treeline, you speak into your comms, listening to Ghost rustle through the brush not too far off in the distance. “Movement.”
“Friendlies?” Ghost immediately returns, fidgeting with something on his head. You can hear it through your small speaker, assuming he’s handling a trip-wire.
Upon further inspection, you release the tight breath you’d been holding. “Deer.”
“Copy.” He returns, going about his given task.
Knowing you have his back makes his job that much easier. And if he’s being completely honest, seeing you with a gun in your hand, your expert eye skimming the treeline, it was attractive. Turned him on, actually, as much as he needed to focus he just couldn’t help it. He admires your work ethic. Even when he had watched your body climb up the sheets of ice, he admired it, eyeing the way your muscles twisted and flexed beneath the canvas of your pants, the way he could see right up between your legs. It’s a wonder he didn’t get even a semi while climbing. But he’s thankful you hadn’t distracted him to that extent.
“Clear.” Simon grumbles into the comms, “Moving south.”
Shifting in the trees, you stay adjacent to him, watching his figure from behind. You’re ready to face any possible enemies, but are thrilled to find this portion of the job has been just as easy as the rest.
“Clear.” He then repeats, finalizing his task. “Moving in.”
Desperately, he wants to relax, find his way inside and just be for a moment. Price said there’d be heat and running water, and Christ, is he looking forward to that.
“Bones?”
“Copy.”
“You following?”
“Coming in.” You confirm, walking up from behind, your position still crouched and eyes zeroed in on the treeline.
Walking into the clearing toward the small home, you almost feel naked, exposed. Every step you make is in Ghost’s footprint, following his every movement to avoid the traps. And once Ghost is on the wooden steps at the front, you glance over your shoulder, taking one last look at the perimeter.
“C’mon,” Simon almost coos, fatigue seeping into his voice. “We’re clear, love.”
Typing in the code Price had given him, Simon unlocks the door and with a harsh nudge, makes his way in. The house is made up of one central room, a side bedroom, bathroom, and small kitchen space. In the living area is a single couch, and further in the bedroom you see a mattress. Hopefully something to help Simon’s back.
“Might hear a bit of noise,” Simon says, walking off toward the kitchen. “I’m kicking on the furnace.”
“That is fine by me.” Breathing out a sigh of relief, you let your body fall onto the couch, dropping your pack to the floor. “I could use some warmth.”
An abrupt thud rattles the baseboards as the rusty furnace burns to life, a small whoosh of dust fluttering from the vents. The soot briefly filling the air disturbs your lungs, a small bout of coughs overcoming you. But for Simon, it does nothing, his mask guarding him from any of the pollen-like pollution.
Casually, he strides your way, plopping down beside you on the couch. He sits alongside a long and raspy sigh, his body right against yours as he wraps his arms around you. Apparently, one of his favorite things to do.
“C’mere,” He says quietly, pulling you to lean back against his chest. And he enjoys it when you snuggle into him, resting against his firmness.
Placing his fingers beneath your chin, he lifts your head, and when you turn to meet him you discover his bare lips. They’re dry and chapped, both of your mouths as they press together, but neither of you really care. You’re yearning for each other, and very suddenly aware that you have an entire cabin to yourselves. And as Simon holds your face with his gloved hand, his kisses become sweet, sensual slides and meetings that make your heart beat.
“How are you?” He asks in that deep, rumbly tone, still full of genuine care.
“Tired,” You breathe out with a short laugh. “Sore.”
“Mm,” Your love nods, gifting you with another small kiss. It’s short and sweet, the gentle stamp of his lips. “Why don’t you have a shower with me?” He’d eyed the bed in the backroom, too, thinking about how wonderful it might feel to lay down in it after washing yourselves clean. But in this moment, that’s not at all what you’re thinking about.
Is he going to let me see his face?
You’re shocked he even asked, you never thought you’d get an opportunity like this with him. And so, with your eyes flickering up to meet his, you nod. “Okay.”
“Won’t be too luxurious,” His voice rumbles across your skin, dark eyes staring down at your charming little face. “Grimy shower, no soap. Just enough water to wash the sweat off our skin.”
Sleepily, you smile. “That’s good enough for me.”
*
*
*
The strength he continues to use even beneath the weight of fatigue is astounding. You’re not quite sure how he has it in him, but he holds you up from behind, cradling your body in his arms. And it’s not like you weigh much, but it still impresses you. There’s not much Simon does that hasn’t impressed you.
Warmly, the water cascades down your body, droplets rolling over the hills and valleys of your skin. And it’s so pleasurable that you moan, eyes closing as your head tilts back to rest against him. Briefly, it frightens him, his eyes dipping down to your relaxed face. He’s reassured by the small flutter of your lashes, a display of respect for him. Before getting in, Simon told you not to look at his face. And while it made your heart sink, you really should’ve known better than to expect that from him.
On his end, this is just as nice, if not even more. With his mask off, he uses one hand to run down his face, then ruffling it through his short hair.
“Simon?” You ask, feeling him reach up, brushing water through his locks.
“Mm?”
Still temporarily blind, you ask him, “What color is your hair?”
That deep laugh bounces off the tile walls, and it makes you smile, heart beating with a certain affection you’re not yet ready to admit to him.
“What color do you think it is?”
“Well, your stubble is blonde, and your happy trail…” Grinning, you reach behind you, fingers petting at the damp patch of hairs leading down to his groin.
“Blonde.” Simon repeats, both hands returning to your hips.
Leaning down, his head tilts, lips brushing your cheek as he says, “That’s what I am.”
For a moment, when you feel his hands roam, you assume it to be sexual. But it isn’t, not at first anyways. While you bask in this new knowledge, Simon washes your body, hands running over your shoulders and arms, your stomach, your hips and thighs.
“You’re tense.” That grumbling voice says, rubbing your shoulders. “Give you a proper rub when I bring you back to base.” And the way he says it makes you swoon, something about his wording making you feel cared for, protected.
“You’d do that for me?”
For a flash, you consider the danger of your situation. You’re both living in a fantasy right now, showering together for the first time, enjoying each other’s company while you’re supposed to be guarding the safe house. But apparently, Simon’s quite sure of the absence of any danger.
Shifting slightly, your Ghost’s broad palms rise to cup your tits, groaning softly into your ear as his head dips down to your neck. Here, his lips work over you, kissing you sensually beneath the warm spray.
“‘Course I would.”
When you sigh, your head falls back a bit further, truly exposing your neck. And this gives him the perfect opportunity for his dominant hand to lift a little higher, fingers encircling your neck. A spike of adrenaline hits your blood, your pulse jumping when it happens. You keep your eyes from flashing open, instead flashing him your grin.
“I want you, sweetheart.” Simon openly admits, his firmly toned body pressing against your back. “While there’s no one around… no one here but you and me…”
“Baby,” Reaching back, you use one arm to wrap around his neck, fingers combing up through his hair. It sends a tingle down your entire spine, feeling his full head of hair for the first time. “I want you.”
“Just us, alone…” He’s trailing off, voice murmuring beneath the shower’s loud stream. “Pull as many pretty sounds from you as I like.”
Chuckling, you return with, “How are you not exhausted?”
“I’m never too tired for you.” He easily responds, “Cheesy, but it’s true. I want every second I can get with you.”
It’s really strange to you, seeing your relationship now versus the start of it. At the beginning, Simon was cold, completely cut off from any outside communication, and that’s how he liked it. He didn’t have anyone close to him, and so, he didn’t have anyone to lose. A man free of commitment, free of any domestic responsibility; tied to his military base, and nothing more. But then you showed up, and made him feel things he never wanted to experience. It was something he blocked out, but his defenses weren’t strong enough to daunt you. And now, instead of avoiding your affections, he returned them tenfold every time he could.
Another pull in your chest, muscles tightening, stomach fluttering. You want to tell him, be open and honest just as he’s pushed himself to be with you. But you don’t know if this is the right time, you don’t know if there will ever be a ‘right time’ with him.
But before you can fully process that, Simon finishes washing your body and his, wiping away the sweat and grime of the past couple days. He even snakes a hand down between your legs, bringing water to rinse you while pressing his lips to your ear.
“Turn it off.” Gentle breath brushes over your skin, both broad palms on your hips as you bend over to do it. “Stay here.”
There aren’t any towels in the cabin, there isn’t much of anything, really. But he moves out into the living room to grab a random blanket from the couch, returning to wrap you in it.
“All we have.”
“That’s okay.” Your smile is sweet as you stare up at him, now with his mask on again. He’d dried himself briefly before coming back to you, and now, he guides you to the bedroom.
“C’mere,” Turning you around to face him, Simon sighs, lifting his mask. “Give me those lips.”
Easily, he pushes forward, guiding you down to the bed as he distracts you with his mouth. The blanket lays open around you as it happens, revealing your naked body to him once again. And on either side of your head, those strong forearms hold your soldier up, his mouth delicate as he begins to consume you.
One large hand finds its way to your thigh, parting your legs. With gentle eagerness, he settles between them, lowering himself to kiss your neck.
“So beautiful,” He murmurs, eyes closed as he shakes his head. “Even through all this, through the hike and weather.”
“Shut up.” You return, laughing playfully at his words.
“I mean it.” Simon instantly responds, voice gruff as he speaks to you in that lowered tone. “You’re the only woman to ever do this to me.”
Your loving lieutenant speaks with a sense of urgency, voice breathy and raspy and full of the deep accent you adore so completely. Truthfully, it’s the most emotional confession he’s ever given, and it stuns you to your core. In your eyes, he might as well have told you he loves you. It’s likely the closest you’ll ever get to it.
“Simon…” Reaching up, your hands cup his cheeks, wishing now more than ever to see more.
“You mean something to me…” He admits, slowly moving down your body.
As he creeps down your frame, your hands pull away from his face, feeling his own explore you in the most intimate way. Both of them secure to your hips, giving them a gentle squeeze before his lips find them. He’s soft with it, mouthing at the delicate bends of your body.
“A perfect treat,” Ghost grins, lips curling over your skin. “All for me.”
That devilish smirk only grows wider when you spread your legs for him, watching with bated breath. Simon always made this such an event, laying you out on any surface or bed and making you wait for his every move.
“Just look at that,” Your sharp inhale makes him hum in admiration, using his thickest digit to thumb at your glistening lips. “Those creamy juices just leaking out of your cunt…”
“Simooonnn,” Thrusting your hips up, you huff dramatically, tossing your head back onto the bed. “Please.”
Usually, he’d laugh, but he doesn’t want to drag it out this time. He wants to indulge in you while he can, before anyone else shows up. And so, he fully parts your lips, tongue laying out to swipe through them. His breaths waft heavily across your center, smooth lips engulfing your sex. He sucks on you, already slurping up the combination of your slick and his spit. Steadily, he strokes you with his tongue, digging it deep inside your warmth. But then he’s pulling himself back, using both hands to spread your legs, pulling apart your sticky lips.
“Christ, I love this.” His voice is thick, eyes unwavering from the space between your thighs. Licking through these delicate petals… right down into that hole.”
Lifting himself ever so slightly, he laps at your clit, tongue circling the hood as he toys with it. The way your hips quiver gifts him with encouragement, with confidence. He knows your body, and he’s going to use that knowledge against you.
“Come on, babe. Make those beautiful noises for me.” Reaching forward, he grabs onto the meat of your ass, squeezing it in hand. “There’s no one here to listen but me, just me…”
“Ngh,” Arching your back, you cry out for him, both from the force of his hand and the way his tongue flicks against the peak of your sex. “Fuck.”
“Come on.” His breathy encouragements continue to flow, his lips soft and wet as he licks through you. “Moan for me.”
“B-Baby, yes…”
He’s sucking on you, lips smacking against the wetness of your cunt as he basks in its taste. The more you writhe beneath his face, the firmer his grip on you becomes, until you’re unable to move yourself at all. Your hips still, crushed comfortably beneath his weight as both of those veiny forearms settle overtop them.
“Yes.” Reaching out, you wish so desperately to be met with the wonderful sensation of his golden hair. But alas, it’s that goddamn mask. Fingers curling tightly into the fabric, you cling to him, chest puffing out sultry gasps into the dusty cabin air. “I, I ca…”
“More.”
“Simon,”
While mumbling against your skin, Simon’s deep, dark eyes flutter up to your gorgeous face. His hands dig into your hips, fingers pressing into the muscles that make you so delicious. Every time you’re near, whether it’s sexual or otherwise, he adores the way you say his name. The way you call for him, reaching out for protection, for friendship, for love. You reach out to him for love, he knows it.
Massaging you with his hands, Simon’s grunts vibrate through your legs and hips, his mouth insistent. And when you meet his eyes, meet that possessive, predatory gaze, you’re done for. The entire sensation of it rushes through your body, opening up and completely letting go. Your back arches, jaw dropping as you listen to him mouth at your quivering cunt like it’s a feast. Heavy grunts and humid breaths, the wet sound of your juices mixing with his spit. Your hips shake from it, lungs constricting from the euphoria tightening your veins.
“Si-imon!” Eyes pinching shut, you revel in it, hands pressing to the back of his head as you reach out for more of his touch. But it’s as if you can’t bring him any closer than he already is.
He lets you hold him, lets your body roll through the motions. But it takes everything in him not to immediately crawl over your body and capture your lips. So, he continues to lick you, letting himself get lost in the taste of it, the smell of it. Shoving his tongue inside, he can feel your hole quiver around him, can feel the way his taste buds react to your cum.
“Baby, baby.” Simon’s tongue swirls around your clit, menacing orbs trained directly on you once again. “Baby…”
And all at once, he’s on you again, lifting himself from between your legs and reaching out to wrench your jaw open.
“Give me those fucking lips.”
Crashing his mouth to your own comes alongside his heated moan, the sound of wet gasps and hot breaths instantly filling the air. He’s pressing himself into you, crushing you comfortably beneath his weight. And the hand he has on your cheek only further secures its grip, keeping your mouth open for him.
“You want me?” He always loved to hear you say it.
“Yes, yes baby, please.” When he pulls away enough to speak, your hands shoot up to his cheeks. “Simon, please.” But then you see him pause, the glimmer of a smirk pulling on his lips. Those deep, mocha orbs stare down at you as he waits. He wants to hear you say it, and you know it.
“I want you.”
If it were any other situation, Simon might’ve held back, might’ve made you repeat a few more words just to really get himself going. But he’s already throbbing against your leg, precum leaking onto your skin since the moment he laid you on the bed. The rest of them could be here any moment, likely in the morning but you never know with Price. He has to take advantage of this while he can.
Leaning on that decorated forearm, Simon’s free hand lowers to his shaft, gripping the base. With his eyes dipping down, he takes a beat to lick his lips and catch his breath. He’s hot, swollen, his pleasure pulsing as it slides across your outer lips. And you pull him in while he does it, mouthing at his neck and trying your damnedest to keep his skin free of any visible sin.
“Such a perfect pussy…” He whispers, sliding his entire length in.
It stretches you, prompting your legs to widen as you take him. The sight of this makes the corner of his lips quirk, a devilish glint in his eye twinkling from your submissiveness.
“That’s it,” A rough sigh is punched from his chest when he’s fully seated, when the firm drag of his cock slows to a dull throb between your legs.
Through the carnal desire clawing through his chest, he pauses, heart beating fondly from the way you nuzzle against his skin. It’s intimate, it isn’t just lust. And as soon as he comes down a bit from that blind passion and excitement, his arms encase your head, cradling you in them.
“Sweetheart,” Brushing the tip of his nose across your own, he draws your attention. Your soft breaths make you seem so small, and in contrast, him so large. You put so much trust into his hands.
Dipping down, Simon kisses you, distracting you with the sweet press of his lips while retracting his hips. Driving his pelvis forward again, he listens to your shrill gasp as it escapes your throat, fingernails already digging into his skin. Repeatedly, he seeks your warmth, pleasure flowing through his system as you give him this tempting sin. That’s really what it is to him; love is a sin.
But he takes every bit of it like a man that’s been promised to hell.
Steady and continuous is the pace of his hips, pelvis slapping between your open thighs. Repeatedly, he breaches your entrance with a girth you’ve desperately missed, his entire body pressing into you. And now that he’s inside, that free hand lifts, eyes watching your bouncing chest before grabbing at it. He paws at your seductive curves like it’s the first time he’s ever touched them, mouth finding the slope of your shoulder and neck as he kisses your skin with wet, parted lips.
“This is just what I need,” Simon groans, growls. “You’re just what I want. You know that, don’t you?”
The moans you once kept silent now burst from your lips, grinding your hips up in time with his thrusts as best you can. Grasping for his shoulders, you feel yourself go weak, the fat head of his cock hitting you deep.
“You know that, right?” He repeats, fondling your chest with firm grabs. But when you still don’t answer, he grunts out his disapproval, head lifting to dig his covered nose into your cheek. And you know better than to not answer him.
“Yes, Simon…” It comes out as a sigh, eyes fluttering open to see those deep, endlessly brown eyes.
And it makes him grin, chuckling breathily. You’re drunk on him.
“Good.” He mumbles against your lips, the hand on your chest now sliding down your side. It follows the dip of your waist and hips, smoothing over the side of your ass until he reaches your thigh. And then he’s grabbing you, hauling your leg further up on his waist, and in turn giving him access for a harsh smack.
“Pretty girl… you’re mine.”
“Simon.”
“Look at me.” Grabbing your jaw, he turns your head in his direction. And the force of it snaps your eyes open, staring up at your enormous soldier. “Look at me when you say my name.”
“Simon…”
Emotion swirls inside your chest until you feel like it’s about to burst, dire need and complete infatuation taking over your body. He’s all consuming, something you can't and wouldn’t ever want to run away from. It’s clawing at you from the inside out, your care for him, your genuine adoration. And you don’t want to say it because you’re sure he won’t react too nicely, he won’t accept it, but you can’t help it. You really can’t, and all at once, you’re saying it.
“Simon, Si, I love,”
Briefly, he stutters, both his hips and lungs. But he keeps going, he’s sure that’s not what you’re saying. It’s not what you should be saying.
“I love you, Si.”
The embrace you hold with him couldn’t be more intense, your chests pressed together as your arms loop tightly around his neck. Something inside him feels like it’s breaking, cold heart cracking with something akin to warmth. If he had the chance, he would’ve begged you not to say it. You don’t need to fall for him like that, not in this way, not in this lifetime. It hasn’t been kind to him, and he, in turn, hasn’t been a kind man. Any semblance of good intention left in his body has been given to you and… he figures that’s it, isn’t it? Is that what love is? Giving someone everything you have? Every piece of good you’ve been made with?
“Bones,” Simon eventually returns, hips slowing until he stills. Resting in this lull with you, he can practically feel your anxiety, your vulnerability. You’ve given him everything you have, too. “I… do.”
“You don’t have to say it.” Comes your instant, tiny squeak.
Out of either vulnerability or insecurity, his head finds your neck, stuffing its way into concealment. “I do.” He says again, squeezing you with his entire body. “I do.”
With a firm sigh, he decides to give this to you; you deserve this - he’s going to give this to you.
“I love you… too.”
“Baby, you really don’t have to say it.” You can practically feel the uncertainty seeping through his skin as he clings to you, seeking security. Stroking the back of his head, you hold him, wrapping your legs around his waist, too.
“I do.” He continues to repeat, now nodding. “I love you.”
*
*
*
“Are you joking me?” Soap practically scoffs, a look of disgust crawling across his face.
“Sorry?” Ghost returns, generally unphased as he inhales another drag of his cig.
“Could you be more obvious?”
At this, Simon’s face turns stern, snuffing out the joint on the couch’s arm before dropping his hand to your leg. A simple gesture of yes, yes I can.
You’d woken up in Simon’s arms, limbs tangled together beneath a worn and tattered scrap of fabric one might call a blanket. Counting yourselves lucky, you opened your eyes to an empty cabin once again. The team hadn’t arrived just yet.
It took some convincing, but you finally got Simon out of bed and dressed. You didn’t want to draw any suspicion should they walk in on you like this. And so, you settled together on the couch. While you laid down, snuggling your feet onto his lap, Simon pulled out another cigarette. It was relaxing, not only being alone but sharing this habit.
The morning was cold but comfortable enough for you to fall back asleep, body resting easily on his sturdy lap. It humored him, seeing just how tired this mission has made you; and you’re only halfway through. But while you were fine spending your time getting some shut eye, Simon was having difficulty fighting his natural instincts. Now that you’ve said it, admitted it, he’s worried. The place you’re in is dangerous and admitting something so precious makes the situation that much more stressful. It also makes him that much more protective.
And so, while you laid resting against him, Simon pulled out his pistol, resting it against his knee with the barrel pointed towards the front door. If anyone were to come in here, they’d have to go through him first.
Lucky for him, though, it turned out to be the boys.
“Lieutenant.” Price nodded, watching Ghost return the gesture.
Lowering the gun, Simon watched as Price and Gaz made their way into the bedroom to set their things down, leaving Soap with the two of you. And that’s when he voiced his concerns, that deep Scottish scoff making itself known.
“Real discrete.” He comments before hearing the captain shout from the room.
“Bit messy in here.” Price remarks, “Messier than I’d last left it. You two do some good sleeping in here?”
“Nah,” Ghost returns with a grin only Johnny can see. “Slept out here, Cap.”
When you hear Simon’s booming voice, you finally wake again, meeting the azure eyes of your friendly sergeant. “Hey, Soap.”
And he can’t bring himself to be any bit annoyed with you. “Hey, gorgeous.”
It’s meant as a friendly compliment, of course, but Ghost squeezes your calf, nonetheless.
“Alright,” Price booms, stomping into the room. “Let’s circle up. We’ve got plans to discuss.”
Already, he hates this. The entire atmosphere has shifted from light and lazy to dark and perilous. Simon can feel his heart rate increasing, his breaths deep and dragging. The mere thought of you in the field makes him want to jump up and wrap you in his arms, drag you away and hide you somewhere safe. What he hates even more than the possibility of that happening is the fact that he allowed it, he’s allowed this to happen. It wasn’t exactly his call to make, but he would’ve made it, and he didn't.
He’s made his bed, and this time, he’s got to lay in it.
So, without much choice, he watches his men regroup in front of him, with his partner sitting up to join in. Price tosses out the maps, Gaz whips out the compass, and Johnny’s already pulling out snacks. Pulling down his mask, Simon releases a harsh sigh, nothing that really draws anyone’s attention, though. He’s pretty much always cranky, and with you here, that trait has grown tenfold.
When Simon reaches for your hand on the couch, your eyes widen. What the hell is he doing? But before you can react, and before anyone else has a chance to see, Johnny tosses a protein bar at the lieutenant.
“Johnny, what the fuck?”
“Don’t be dumb.” Johnny scolds outwardly, scowling at his closest friend.
Price can feel something lingering in the air, an awkward silence, a secret. But he pushes it away. Glancing between his teammates, he clasps his hands together.
“Alright, let’s get to it, then.”
Here we go.
#oooohhhh baby#I love you#I do#Simon Riley#Simon Ghost Riley#Ghost cod#Simon Riley x you#Simon Riley x reader#Simon Riley x female reader#Simon Riley smut#Simon Riley fluff#cod fanfiction#call of duty fanfiction#call of duty#cod mw2
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The author of this captions decided to stay anonymous. Enoy!
—–
“Oooof… hand me the oil would ya son?” He asked as he plopped down on the couch spreading his legs and undid his belt and zipper to make room for his big heavy belly to rest in between. I handed him the coconut oil and watched as he took a hand full and rubbed the sides of his big achy stomach. He was 9 months along now with quads and was due any day now. “They get bigger and bigger by the day! I don’t know how much bigger i could possibly get.” He says as he slaps both hands at the sides of his big round oily belly and rubs in big circles . “Ooh oof ungh” he grunts and moans as the babies kick and protest at the pressure of his rubbing. “You should be due any day now. Need any help?” I offered. Truth be told I enjoyed watching him sit on the couch everyday unable to get up from the size and weight of his heavy and perfectly round gut that protruded so far that he had no choice but to let it rest in between his tired legs spread out wide. In the mornings he’d eat and engorge until his belly was tight and full. After all he was eating for 5. In the afternoon I’d sit and watch tv with him and sometimes when the quads were less active I’d rest my head atop his round firm stomach while rubbing his underbelly gently to lessen the pressure. I’d help him up and he’d waddle around the house holding his heavy belly from underneath and picking it up to lessen the weight. At night he’d sit in bed and rub his belly for hours to relieve the aches and stretching until he knocked out but today he needed my assistance to reach every inch of his big round achy belly. The quads were heavy, each weighing approximately 8 pounds. “Yes please! Ugh I can only rub so much myself. Please be gentle… ohh ooof… my belly is feeling especially heavy and sensitive today.” He held his under belly and picked it up to relieve the weight of it for a few seconds and then let go and as it plopped back down it jiggled and the babies again kicked and squirmed in protest. I took the oil in my hands and eagerly walked over to his immense gut. I started with rubbing his outie belly button and then went to the top of his mound and ran my hands up and down the middle of his big pregnant stomach. His moans and grunts are what I really wanted to hear so I ignored his direction about being gentle and rigorously rubbed the sides of this big belly with a moderate amount of pressure. It was softer than it looked so I was able to really get in there. “Ooohhh it hurts… ugghh… but it feels so good…don’t stop…. keep rubbing… ohhh the babies hate it…. ohhh wow ughhhng” he moaned and grunted in pain and pleasure. I enjoyed rubbing this big ball of a belly until his tight skin absorbed all the oil. “How was that?” I said as I gave the last rub and took one hand away and gave him a couple pats in the middle of his belly followed by a playful slap at the top of his ginormous ball gut. “That felt amazing. But… ooof..Babies didn’t like it from the looks of it” the quads kicked and made his belly bounce and sway and jiggle. "Ahh! Oh! Ooof… oh… I think it’s time" he screamed in pain as he held his now tightening ball gut. “Time for what !? They’re coming? Was I too rough???” "I don’t know but I feel my belly tightening up! Ahhh!“ He roared in agony. I didn’t know how to deliver! Wtf was I supposed to do? So I stripped his pants off and helped him lay down on the carpet. He held his big belly and clenched at the side and under of his giant mound in pain. His belly was tightening up. I gave it a quick poke and it was hard as a rock. Suddenly I heard a gush of liquid. His water broke. “Help me!!! Tell me when to push! Oh god please son you’ve gotta deliver the quads!ahhh ohhh..! ” he screamed. I took a look and could see the first head crowning. “You’re crowning! Push! Push now! Hard!” "I can’t! It’s too much pressure it hurts!“ So I helped him push. I pressed down as hard as I could on his big hard stomach full of life until I could feel the first of the babies. I helped push them all out one…by…one.
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heyyooo! love your work! big fan! wondering if i might be able to request Crosshair with a breeding kink pretty please? this man lives in my head rent free and the brain rot is fkn real
< You are here | Part 2 >
Author's note: Ohhh, a challenge. I like. >:3 I will admit I didn't like Crosshair much at first, but he's been chipping away at me for ages and now I have the brain rot too so sameeeeeee
Relationships: Crosshair/Fem!Reader
Warnings: NSFW, What I would consider subtle breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy but not actual pregnancy, Unprotected sex, Creampies, Crosshair being a pouty little shit, Pre-Echo(sry bby), one mention of smoking though it can be taken as a metaphor not literally, Little bit of angst,
Hunter balls his hands into fists so tight his fingers shake, before threading them through his hand and pulling at the root. Boots clanging against the metal floor of the ship he walks into the cockpit, seeing Tech and Wrecker both already looking up at him.
"He is being impossible." Hunter flops in the co-pilot seat, groaning almost harsh enough to sound like a growl. Wrecker throws out a nonchalant hand, shrugging and shaking his head.
"He's been all grumpy for weeks now, not like we did anything to him..." Wrecker crosses his arms and glances in the direction of the back of the Marauder, where Crosshair is currently hidden.
Swiveling his pilot's seat so he faces Hunter, Tech continues threading a screw into his currently ongoing repair job while he talks.
"I can think of perhaps one or two theories that have the most merit as to why Crosshair is behaving this way." While normally Hunter is used to Crosshair's attitude largely defying any sort of figuring out, he still cracks an eye open to watch Tech explain himself.
"Either he's become irritated at the extended length of all of our current missions," That's a no-brainer, and the reason why all of them are on edge. Tech glances in the same place Wrecker had looked, before continuing.
"Or, he is upset because he's been away from her for such a significant amount of time."
That catches Hunter's attention, leaning up away from the back of the seat.
They've all known for a while that Crosshair had met someone, and had simply been playing it off so he could say so himself. He leaves for hours at a time and refuses to say where, along with Hunter being able to smell the irrefutable scent of a woman on him. But as expected he's kept it all a secret, acting as if him disappearing isn't unusual.
Part of Hunter was maybe a little bit insulted that he's not divulging something that significant, especially given that it doesn't seem to be just a one night stand.
But since his attitude and patience had marginally improved the Batch had elected to just take the win; Though it seems the inevitable downside was now this. They hadn't expected to get rerouted three different times so far, extending their current deployment by double what had been estimated.
He gets missing someone, but he just wishes Crosshair wouldn't be such an ass about it. He keeps biting at anyone who so much as glances at him, entire body tight and angry.
Hunter can’t help but sigh in relief knowing that they’re on track back to Coruscant, and they can get off the Marauder and stretch out away from each other for a bit. Even on the best of days, it’s not a good mix to be in such close quarters for so long.
"Lets just get to Coruscant ASAP; I'm going to go insane being stuck up in here with him for much longer."
The storage crate Crosshair is sitting on wiggles slightly, but held mostly in place by it's straps to the ground. Tech had secured this load this time after they routed to a republic base for resupplying, since they'd run out of their original stock of necessities.
But even as far back as he can possibly get it's not far enough away from his brothers, as he can still hearing them talking from all the way in the cockpit. His knuckles crack as he uses one hand to grip the fingers on his opposite, hunched over as his elbows dig into his thighs.
"Or he is upset because he's been away from her for such a significant amount of time."
Damn right he's fucking upset.
He finally finds himself someone that he likes, that he wants to be around, and he has to be stuck up in the Marauder for literal months. The last time they'd gotten rerouted he'd swore up a storm, knowing it would be at least another few standard weeks till they were back on Coruscant. Wrecker had gotten the brunt of it, and he feels a little sour stomached knowing that he shouldn’t have thrown that stuff at him. Wrecker didn’t do anything wrong, it’s just his desire to have some semblance of a life biting him in the ass. Clones don’t get to enjoy things, they get to shoot or get shot.
But he’s so fucking desperate that he swears he can see you right in front of him, with that stupid smile and wearing the used bodyglove he'd given you and let you cut up into something pretty. You’d put thumb holes in the sleeves and cut the bottom off, turning into a cute little shirt you could wear whenever. You’d even left the republic symbol on the arm alone, so it’s still obvious that it’s military.
‘It reminds me of you,’ He remembers you saying, and it felt like you’d shot him in the gut.
But instead of being with you he’s here; Stuck in a stuffy ship the same air recirculating over and over.
He wants to fuck you. Bad.
So damn bad that even you right now, the mere thought of you leaning forward to grab something off a table enough so that your shirt raises just a tiny bit up your back, has him biting his cheek almost enough to bleed.
No matter how many times he beats his head in trying to forget you exist for even just a moment, or waits until he’s alone enough to lock the refresher door and try and yank himself until he feels the need die down just enough that he can think about anything else, it doesn't work.
None of it does; His mind just keeps circling back to you. The way you smile at him, the way you talk to him, the way his hands look against your skin.
He should hate you for doing this to him. He should hate himself for letting this be done to him.
You're a good girl experimenting with a bit of the bad; To feel someone who isn't afraid to get rough. To taste the smoke on his lips and reach for him the moment he tries to pull away. He’s supposed to make you cry, make you want him.
You should be the one acting sick with love and yearning; Not him.
He's head over heels like someone in love for the first because he is; Other than one or two one night stands you're the first to make him feel this way. He's been having dreams even, mind coming up with scenarios each one more ludicrous than the last. But gods had they made him hard; Enough so that when he jolted up from his bunk he'd almost slammed his head into the ceiling, heart racing in his chest. He had to change the bottom half of his blacks afterward as well, as silently as possible.
Everything about this just makes him furious.
The moment they arrive in Coruscant space he’s standing up and waiting, his foot tapping the ground as he grips the wall for support. He’s not going to bother sitting down, it would be a waste of time. Tech will jostle them around as they land the same amount either way.
Hunter can probably hear him back here, though Crosshair doesn’t care either way. Whatever the rest of them think doesn’t matter to him at the moment, even less so than usual.
With a bunched fist he hits the panel to drop the gangplank the moment the Marauder's engines are off, not even letting them get cold before he disappears.
It's the dead of night when your eyes suddenly crack open, having to adjust to the such low amount of light in the room.
You don't know quite why you're suddenly awake, and after rubbing your eyes you lean up a bit, looking around the room. When there isn't anything out of the ordinary, you almost move to put your head against the pillow again to go back to sleep, until you hear it.
It's the soft sound of metal sliding on metal, and so you wrench your body from bed, grabbing the blaster from your nightstand and racing out into the living room to see if the door is open.
The main one isn't, though the one that leads to your patio is, with a figure standing in it just inside on your floor.
For a moment your heart completely stops, until you recognize the shape of the helmet they're wearing.
"Crosshair!?"
Your hands lower, seeing his familiar lithe silhouette in front of the patio. "Did you, break in?" He pulls the sliding glass door shut as you brush a hand along your hair and set the blaster on your counter.
"Yeah, and?"
He says while pulling off his helmet, before throwing it in the direction of your couch. It bounces twice before rolling to a stop. "It's the fifth story!" He seems to completely ignore your comment, and instead walks closer to you, an unreadable expression on his face. It’s so dark in here, the only like is from the patio windows and the one little light you leave on in the kitchen.
You're in your nightclothes of course, bare feet against the floor as you'd raced right from your bedroom after hearing him pick the lock. You hope no one saw him on the way up, but it’s unlikely Crosshair would’ve allowed that to happen.
Walking closer you can hear his boots hit your floor, and he comes into your personal space you let him; His hands laying on the tops of your hips and pulling you close. The edge of the countertop hits the small of your back as he traps you against it, seeing his eyes brush over your face.
He’s not saying anything, so you fill the silence yourself.
"I missed you." He makes a soft noise.
"Really?" His tone of voice is amused, and skeptical. The plates of his armor are rough against your palms, as they brush over his chestplate. You can feel each little scrape and dent, every moment where he might’ve gotten hurt had it not been there to protect him.
"Am I not allowed to miss you?" He removes one hand from your hip to take the toothpick from his mouth and flicks it in the direction of your trash, it bonking off the wall and falling in.
After he does so, he leans down enough that his lips are just barely hovering over your own, and you can just barely see the outline of his features in the dark. They feel so soft, brushing against you as he speaks.
"You're too sweet on me, sugar."
Maybe so, but you can't help it.
"But I don't think you missed just me, right?" One of his hands leaves your hips to cradle the back of your neck, tilting your head upwards. He's not wrong, you know you’ve missed the things he does to you just as much as himself. They keep you awake at night, more often than not. You don’t answer him, but your lips gently part as you look at him. His eyes are hooded, looking at you and only you.
"So what; You want me to love on you, or fuck you."
Crosshair knows what he wants, and he knows by the way you've grown pliant under his grasp that you want it too.
He moves closer to you until you have no option to sit up on the table you'd had your back to, him stepping in the space between your legs. His lips are rough against yours as he tugs up the fabric of your nightdress, so much so that one might wonder if he'd ripped it. It doesn't matter.
His gloved hand is slipping down the front of your underwear so fast that you don't even have time to question it, instantly pressing against your clit. He chuckles at the way your hips press towards him, already pleading for more. Always greedy. You’re so senstive and begging and he’s barely even touched you. It’s been too long.
"Nothing else worked, hmm?"
His fingers slide along your cunt, them just barely shining from the light pouring through your windows. He only pulls his hand away to bite the tip of his glove and pull it off, so you he can fuck you with his bare fingers. While he does, he's one handedly undoing his armor, letting it fall and kicking it away.
It feels good to take it off, and it feels even better for you to feel the softer slopes of his body, instead of the harsh edges of his armor. You slide off your underwear and throw them away, just in time for him to press his hand against you again.
His fingers curl inside of your cunt, making noises that almost embarrass you as his jaw presses against your cheek.
"Don't tell me you've been this wet the whole time i've been gone?"
He keeps trying his usual 'nonchalant and disconnected' schtick, with the snarky quips and knowing looks.
But each time his lips press against yours it's with so much desperation, feeling the way he grinds against you through his bodyglove as your legs wrap around his hips. He leans back to pull off his chestplate, and before it stops rocking on the floor he’s already back against your body.
He knows exactly how to touch you, fingers curling inside of you perfect while his thumb presses against your clit. You're writhing under his touch, desperately close after so long being unable to feel fully satisfied. The memory of his touch stopped being enough after awhile, and you’d suffered without it.
“Sometimes,” You sigh, feeling how tight your gut is. “I missed you.” You did, in multiple ways.
"I wanted you here; Especially w-" You suddenly stop speaking, too nervous to say it out loud to him. Maybe this isn’t the time to say what was on the tip of your tongue.
But Crosshair is too keen, and slows before looking down at you.
"Hmm?" He notices the way you suddenly look away from him, and only when he almost completely stops touching you do you barely mutter the words.
"I, thought I was pregnant. Right after you left."
You can still feel his fingers curled inside of you, stretching you. It hadn’t made him run, like you’d thought it might.
Crosshair doesn't know how to feel over the fact that those words fail to startle him, or that they send a jolt right down to his groin.
"It was just me imagining things in the end but," His hand moves and the way his thumb brushes over your clit makes you stop talking, gasping as your thighs tense.
"The good girl wanted a clone to knock her up?" Your face squishes. You hate when he calls you that. It sounds demeaning; Both to you and himself.
"Just- Dammit Cross,"
You say, cutting off anything else he might say. You hate when he makes you fluster under him like this, instead settling to just kiss him instead. Your hands fumble on his bodyglove before he pulls them away, freeing his cock himself. His hands grab your hips harshly and pulls you to the edge of the countertop, enough so that he can line himself up with your entrance and slowly press inside. He feels your nails through the fabric of his blacks, gasping as he slowly buries himself to the hilt.
You know Cross can be gentle, almost surprisingly so, but clearly what you'd said to him affected him to some degree; So much so that his hands grip your hips and leave dents, teeth catching your bottom lip.
He's rough, fucking you like he has one goal in mind.
Your arms are wrapped around his neck almost like a hug, keeping him close while he drives up into you. His hands and grabbing at your hips, keeping you as close to the edge of the counter as he can, without you falling off.
"C-Cross..." Fuck, he missed this. He missed the feel of you hot and wet and tight around him, and being able to fill you up like this until you're begging for him. More of him. He missed the feeling off your warmth on his skin; He's always ran colder, and secretly enjoys when your arms are around him and he can siphon your warmth.
Your legs tighten around his hips, keeping him as close as possible as his hips thrust up towards you. His cock barely pulls out halfway each time, staying so deep inside of you he keeps grinding against your most senstive spots.
"Let, Kriff- Let me cum in you.”
You don’t think you’ve ever heard him ask for something like that before; bordering on the edge of pleading. He says it through gritted teeth, hating that he let something like that slip. You grant him a mercy by whispering to him ‘yes, yes,’ against his shoulder.
The sounds of skin on skin fill the room as he thrusts his cock into you as deep as he can, brushing against every sensitive nerve within reach. You feel so hot and soft around him, your nails digging into him through his blacks as you clasp onto him. You would’ve let him even if he hadn’t have asked, but you can’t help the jolt that goes straight to your pussy at the way he wants to so badly.
He's so close you can feel him, the way he's uneven and swearing, and you grip him so tight he'd have to tear your arms off his body to pull out of you.
You suddenly feel him cum inside of you, as he hisses through his teeth in pleasure. His cock twitches inside of you, hips grinding against you as if trying to get impossibly deeper. He lingers until he’s finished, and when he finally does pull his cock from you, it's almost instantly replaced with his fingers. Pressing against your clit and circling, trying to help you chase the high you're so infuriatingly close to. He’s not just going to leave you hanging.
He can feel his cum against his fingers, mixing with your wetness as he drives his fingers deeper inside of you. Your thighs quake around him and he feels your hands grasping for anything to hold onto to keep you steady, mewling so sweetly for him.
"Come on doll," He mutters softly against your skin, teeth scraping against the soft skin just below your ear.
"Almost, almost- I,"
It's only seconds later than you finally do cum, body straightening up as your arms wrap around him, thighs trying to close tight. But they can't with him in the way, so they only wrap around him as he feels your pussy tense and flutter around nothing. He leaves his fingers against you for a bit, much more slow and gentle as he listens to your panting in his ear.
When he does finally pull away from you he glances at the way his cum slowly leaks from you, before glancing up and seeing your hooded, tired eyes as you lean back on your hands.
He'll never get tired of how this scene looks.
"Admiring your handiwork?" You dare to quip, feeling the way he gently smacks the side of your thigh to show his displeasure about it. It only makes you grin. Even if your heart is racing, you’re not tired quite yet. You can’t afford to be, you don’t know how much his time you’re going to have.
When you move to slide off the counter he lifts a hand a bit just in case, though you get down with no trouble. Your knees might be a little wobbily, but not unusable. The fabric of your nightclothes slides down, covering your messy thighs just enough.
"I wouldn't mind more, if you have any left."
The look Crosshair gives you is absolutely vicious, and just as quickly as the words leave you’re mouth he’s coming towards you. He's following, and quickly gaining, before he claps and arm on your shoulder and pushes you with in that direction with intent.
"Don't make promises that little body of yours can't keep up with."
#Crosshair just fits too well with my goodgirl/badboy cliché obsession i am so sorry#crosshair x reader#tbb x reader#the bad batch crosshair x reader#Crosshair/Reader#mywriting#reader insert#reader
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more of these guys :] (part 1) (part 2)
classpect thoughts under cut! yippee
these absolute fools gave me SO much trouble. i changed each of their classes and/or aspects like twice while drawing this lmao.
pearle was going to be a rage player initially! i had her down as one for the chaos — yknow, ‘red’s my favorite color’ and all that. but the catch ended up being that in this au, as rage represents in-game chaos and bloodlust, it only exists while the game is in effect, and so rage players don’t have much dominion over stuff that happens after that period ends (which has all sorts of delightful implications for grienn’s character, but anyways). meanwhile pearle definitely continues playing and also grows as a character even in times of peace. i was thinking in terms of comparing her arc in double life to secret life in particular — ‘she left the tower’ and all that, yknow? she went from being terribly isolated and functioning on a completely independent scale, winning only for herself, to being a key member of a team and finding a purpose in helping them. which is pretty incredibly space-coded, in my mind! my personal qualification for space players is that they’re destined to be lonely, often physically separated in some way from others, for a while but not forever — because space is about creation, after all. and if you look at being a witch from the perspective of reinvention — what pearle manipulated or reinvented here was herself. she found her place in the story and the person she wanted to be. witches are also some of the most powerful characters in terms of specifically manipulating their aspect, i think, which is great because i’ve heard she's pretty great at pvp lol
ignore that martyn’s color palette is not particularly great it’s hard to unify the design of a character who is super rustblood-coded but also inextricably linked to the colors green and yellow of all things. i’ll redesign him later. anyways! at first i had thought there might not be any light players in this session — since light is about sort of seeing through the laws of the game and often deliberately defying them, as well as having a certain degree of control over narrative agency due to this. and because, yknow, the life series is a minecraft youtube roleplay series, realistically the ccs aren’t going to be playing any characters that go out of their way to completely ruin the game or refuse to play it by the rules altogether. but then i started thinking — and i don’t know an awful lot about martyn’s character so forgive me if i’m going a little bit off the rails here — does martyn want to understand? because if he as a character tries to understand and affect his destiny even though he’s ultimately limited by the nature of the story itself, then he could totally be a light player. so that’s where i was coming from here. think about how he won limited life in the end, for instance — not by playing into what the game itself had been leading up to, but by acting on and finishing his own story. he’s a knight because i do think knights are a certified Narrative’s Little Guy class — they persevere through so much pressure and often also have that sort of dual persona thing, both of which are particularly endearing to an audience. it’s hard work, keeping up with the narrative and fulfilling his own quest for understanding while he’s at it!! but he does it!!
renn is Such a blood player guys he is such a blood player ohhh my goodness. playing the game in terms of your relationships with others, right? basing how you go about it on allies and interactions, and being a leader above all else? i’d say that’s pretty ren the dog coded tbh. i don’t have too much to say here because i think seer of blood renn is pretty self-explanatory — he sees the entire game as a game of relationships and ties. he has a lot of knowledge about this field specifically, and shares it with his allies in the way he helps direct them and keep them alive. the reason he’s blood instead of light is because he puts his allies over knowledge, i think — he’s far too busy dealing with all that stuff to speculate for too long what the purpose of it all might be, and that would detract from his goal (of winning alongside others or dying nobly), anyway.
again questions abt them are open forever always :3
#(<TOTALLY SELF-IDENTIFIES AS A SPACE PLAYER BTW. can u tell lmao)#pearlescentmoon#inthelittlewood#rendog#trafficblr#secret life#lifestuck au#doodles#love how u can just slowly watch the quality of the character lineup drawings deteriorate because i want to get to all of them fsfjhjf#i have soooo many thoughts abt how these characters would interact in the context of the game but will save that for another post so this-#-does not become any longer than it already is#(also i know i'm probably coming across as super pretentious abt this au just know i am excited ok! i am simply having fun!)
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S2 episode 25 (Bread And Circuses) oh goodness oh my. I’m not ready. I’m so ready.
Okay get ready:
- They’re all standing on the enterprise bridge completely still. As if in tableau.
- Of course they’re beaming down to a dangerous planet with only the top three officers. Why even use reason at this point.
- Kirk outside the ship in his green shirt <3 (I keep thinking of it as his pjs)
- McCoy is very hostile towards Spock today. Hope they don’t get put in a situation with sharp objects…
- “Once, just once, I’d like to land someplace and say, ‘behold, I am the archangel Gabriel.’” “I fail to see the humour in that situation, Doctor.” “Naturally. You could hardly claim to be an angel with those point ears, Mr. Spock. But say you landed someplace with a pitchfork.” This is proving my theory that they’re the angel and devil on Kirk’s shoulders
- “We come from another… province.” Canadian moment
- “What do you call those?” “I call them ears.” There is no end to Spock’s audacity
- “Captain, I thought you might find this interesting.” Spock hands Kirk a newspaper with a shirtless man on the cover
- “Will you help us?” No one can outright deny this twunk
- Spock in a hat
- McCoy in a regular short sleeve shirt and bell bottom pants is <3
- no words for this one
- it’s like this episodes message is mirroring our own world or something… nah
- McCoy is already picking fights. Spock is indulging him. They’re not enemies to lovers. They’re enemies AND lovers.
- McCoy not afraid to slap a bitch
- So Merrick killed all of his crew… right?
- McCoy and Spock just flirting (debating) in public
- AND they threatened McCoy and Spock
- As Jim takes the communicator to assumedly order the crew down he has a shit eating grin… so it’s safe to assume he’s not gonna do that
- “Must you always be so blasted honest?!”
- He’s just talking on his cellphone
- Scotty is talking to his diary, Uhura is listening
- Jim is so scared for what’s about to happen
- McCoy and Spock about to face off against two shirtless men
- “I don’t mind fighting but… why you?” That gladiator took one look at them and went, ‘why are they making us fight these two nerds?’
- Camera goes to McCoy -> sound guy ups the catcalls
- I love Spock fighting really hard in the background and McCoy just.. he don’t want to
- “Do you need any help, Doctor?” “What ever gave you that idea?” “[random gladiator]Fight, you pointed eared freak!” “You tell him, buster! Of all the completely… ridiculous, illogical questions I ever heard in my life!” Then Bones falls on his ass and Spock comes to his rescue, happily ever after
- Those pants make Kirk’s ass look flat… unfair
- Spock trying to break the bars while McCoy sits in the most strange way possible
- Spock has tried to get them out the same way fifteen times. He wants his boyfriends safe.
- Me: awww McCoy and Spock having a genuine moment… nope they can’t last ten seconds (maybe they are divorced)
- McCoy pins Spock against the wall of the cell to make his point
- Spock’s pouty expression…
- “Why you wouldn’t know what to do with a genuine warm decent feeling.” “Really doctor?” They’re giving each other ‘fuck me’ eyes
- Their fight ended with “I’m worried about Jim too” like McCoy knows Spock feels emotions but represses them and is ‘trying’ to understand him
- Kirk, I implore you not to kiss this woman- that went out the window so fast
- Never mind what I said about the pants making his ass flat. I was severely wrong. Forgive me.
- KIRK STRAIGHT UP KILLED THOSE GUYS
- Ohhh Merrick stole the communicator
- Kirk giving commendation to Scotty for not breaking the prime directive is priceless. ‘Good self control, Mr Scott.’
- I love how Spock and McCoy are both saying things about Flavius (agreeing with each other)and as soon as Spock speaks about studying the sun religion, McCoy looks like he’s going to explode
I both like and hate the relationship they have with Spock and McCoy in this one cause it’s so magnetic but I don’t know if it’ll ever be evolved past this and that makes me sad.
Masterpost
Episode written by Gene Roddenberry and Gene L. Coon
#star trek#star trek tos#star trek the original series#spock#s'chn t'gai spock#tos spock#leonard bones mccoy#tos bones#tos mccoy#captain james kirk#tos kirk
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Reasons why the Svanaclaw chapter wasn’t as good as it could have been
It all starts with Leona, not that his character is flimsy or bad but I don’t think the writer handled him properly.
The plot seems patched up.
Leona proves in literally every chapter but his own that he’s really smart. He’s the first one to notice Grim eating the weird black shit is bad, he’s quick at thinking and able to do something good while still benefit from it (helping the dumbass group with azul, helping jack from being ganged up on and beat up etch). The only thing he lacks is motivation and that’s because he’s already half given up hope.
He’s also very likely projecting Farena onto Malleus. Its not much about Malleus is soo much better than him he’s intimidating but that Malleus absolutely wrecking Svanaclaw singlehandedly every spelldrive competition despite how hard he works and how many times he tries reminds him of how utterly useless all his efforts to be king of sunset savana ends up.
No matter all his hard work, his ability and his smarts were he just didn’t win, he won’t become king.
Putting that aside Leona’s ‘plan’ in the 2nd chapter is very... juvenile.
It doesn’t match up with the rest of his intelligence.
If every dorm but svanaclaw had incidents with their players then obviously svanaclaw would be the biggest suspect and yet in the chapter every five seconds they’re like OHHH make sure there is NOoooooooooo evidence.
Also if Malleus is the only reason Svanaclaw loses why are they taking out people from other dorms? Why didn’t they take out people from Diasmonia? Why not just directly target Malleus? I get that he’s really strong and it would be super hard but it just seems like a waste of time to attack players from literally every dorm but the dorm that is kicking everyone’s ass.
Not only that but if u can’t beat him in spelldrive with your own crazy magic what makes u think a stampede will kill him? That and also Leona’s freak out was so iffy and awkward to me. He just seemed like an asshole especially with the choking his dorm mates and he didn’t even over blot yet.
I think that the writer was lazy took very direct plot points from the lion king slapped it on and called it a day.
If you wanted the story to be more memorable or believable try this, Leona seeing some kind of news article talking about what kind of king Farena is, Leona’s family urging him to talk more to them, everyone talking about how Malleus is going to win the tournament in a landslide with very little hope for everyone else, jack talking about how leona used to be so cool in spelldrive.
You build up Leona’s stress to the point that he’ll start to think that that stupid plan i mentioned might just work because he’s gotten to the point of being desperate. If he might win the spelldrive competition against Malleus Draconia maybe he still has a shot at being king. maybe it isn’t hopeless after all.
you know what’s better than making him overblot before the competition? making him overblot when Diasmonia wins even if he tried dirty tactics.
because then ALL of his efforts fall down, his practices at spell drive, how smart he is, how strong he is, and even with him playing dirty. He still lost and that’s what will make him lose it.
This is more authentic and far more in-character than what we got in twisted wonderland.
because Leona is (as I said), really smart and I believe that he’ll only do something stupid if he’s desperate.
So make him desperate.
so like ya know twisted wonderland writers why’d you do him so bad?
#twisted wonderland#disney twisted wonderland#leona kingscholar#twisted wonderland leona kingscholar#malleus draconia#svanaclaw#svanaclaw dorm#twisted wonderland svanaclaw#honestly he deserves better writing because of how secretive his character is#you wouldn't understand him unless you really think about it#at face value he acts like an asshole and he is BUT there's a reason for it#he has a lot of themes about doing something good but still in the end he manages to get something from it as well#can u tell that i love leona#like at first i was just so offended why would I like an asshole when there's a dragon to simp over?#but then i thought more about it and im like oh yeah this bitch i love him#sorry mal
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hi! i would like to know your headcanons about shigaraki or an alternate universe hero tenko.
Ohhh that’s a fun one! Hmm, I’m going to keep some Tenko headcanons to myself for now for fic writin’ reasons, but here’s a few ones I have, mostly based off canon:
If Tenko ends the story with the All for One quirk and his body modifications, I can see him using his power to help people remove or swap quirks that are dangerous to themselves or others, because he can absorb post-singularity quirks in a way that nobody else on the planet can. Tenko doesn’t harbor any negative associations with quirklessness, but he does know what it feels like to have a scary quirk that is itching to get out of you. He also knows how AFO and Dr. Garaki stole, combined, and manipulated quirks into ever more terrifying powers, and there’s something poetic about him using the All for One quirk to de-escalate.
Like he thinks Eraserhead is cool, so if he can erase someone’s quirk, allowing them to hug a family member for the first time? Or safely play with the family pet? Yeah, super cool.
I don’t see canon Tenko wanting to be a fist-fighting hero given everything he’s been through, and his violence-begets-violence beliefs.
But AU hero Tenko would totally dream of being on the hero billboard charts as a kid. He’d model himself after All Might and be every bit the All Might fanboy just like Izuku and Katsuki (and Koichi!) AU hero Tenko doesn’t have the jaded views that Tomura has towards hero society, and no AFO influence to stoke his worst attitudes.
If AU hero Tenko knew his grandmother (and Torino) trained All Might, and they’re still alive, then he’d definitely want them to train him too! His father would still disapprove, but in more of a “I want my son to be a successful businessman like me” way. Kotaro just doesn’t understand the world of long-haired spandex-clad pro heroes. He’s the dad asking his 14yo “do you even understand how insurance premiums work?” rather than “tell me more about Best Jeanist’s new ultimate move.” Tenko learns to nerd out with Uncle Might on the hero stuff. (Or…does he grow up with Uncle Toshi and not realize Toshi is All Might???)
As he learns to control the size and speed of his decay waves and particles, Tenko can do things like create smokescreens, set perimeters for fire breaks, and quickly make sand walls to stop/slow flooding. He can also soften the ground like Mudman in class 1B. Eventually he learns to condense matter and manipulate different densities to create implosions that propel matter around. That gives him extra speed, some flight time, and projectile/ranged attacks without enormous Decay waves that disintegrate everything for kilometers in every direction.
Tenko would ace the UA entrance exam by just decaying all the robots.
Tenko would embrace his classmates who weren’t sure of their powers/capabilities, and he’d encourage them to keep following their dreams. He knows there’s no one way to be a hero. He begins to doubt things like the hero billboard awards in his teens but he always believes in the power of people to make a difference in their community when they get to express who they are and pursue what they love. That’s his idea of a peaceful world.
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Gekko x reader
im witting this bc when i was on the gekko x reader tag i was in the top blogs and i felt like an imposter so now i have to write one
cw: fluff
you want an indie boyfriend who skates and introduces you to music, clothes and overall just loves you? Gekko is right there in the corner staring at you in adoration
You were quite new in the protocol, you joined right after neon, so only 2 more people joined after you. You pretty much got along with everyone there, even being tolerated by viper and reyna. (you think reyna only didnt hate your guts because you were a radiant)
though you did like to hang out with neon, raze, jett and phoenix a lot. Those 4 you seemed to mesh really well with, very loud and outgoing people. Which is why it was such a shock when another agent joined.
“Everyone this is gekko, The new guy who will be joining you guys on missions, make sure to treat him well.”
Brim said sternly, while gekko just gave a bit of a goofy wave. It was love at first site.
“he’s so fine omg.”
“i know…”
you and neon whispered to each other. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, he was just so different to most the people here, he looked more relaxed and chill. Sage then took him off to show his room.
“yo (y/n) you should get to know him, he looks so cool.”
neon said with a sly smile.
“honestly I will.”
reyna looked over to you and neon and just rolled her eyes muttering ‘kids’ under her breath before walking away.
you decided to leave him alone for a bit just for him to get settled in. Sitting in the common room you switch through channels trying to find something interesting to watch. However you didn’t have to wait for long to talk to the new guy.
“hey you’re (agent name) right? sage told me your name by the way. im not a stalker or anything!”
he said putting his hands up defensively with a small smile.
“oh hey! yeah I’m (agent name) but you can call me (y/n), I don’t keep my name a secret here. It’s nice to meet you! are you liking it here?”
“yeah it’s super chill, i’m loving the vibe here. my name is mateo by the way”
he says as he sits near you on the couch.
“anything i can help you with? or did you just want to talk to me?”
you say in a teasing tone, causing his cheeks to go slightly pink.
“oh yeah i was actually wondering if you knew any places to eat around here? specifically chinese im really in the mood for that right now! But i also wanted to talk to you!”
he again said defensively.
“oh yeah i know a shit ton. you want me to go with you or just give you directions?”
“oh sí that would be great if you came along, you could help me order!”
“okay let me just go put on some shoes”
you and gekko went off to a near by street that had many food places, on the way you engaged with the usual first meeting talk like ‘how old are you?’ ‘favourite colour?’’where you from’ just the normal stuff. You got to the food place and decided to eat it there instead of takeaway. it was a small place, a family owned business. it was quaint
“so (y/n) what do you plan to get?”
“hmmm i’ll go with this one”
you point to your usual oder on the menu.
“i’ll get that too!”
you and gekko order and just keep talking. its nice, he’s really nice, and chill, and good looking and you’re staring at him again.
“so you wanna tell me about the people we work with? por favour.”
“oh yeah okay so, everyone’s really nice. Maybe not viper and reyna but they’re nice deep down… i think.
“ohhh reyna is actually the one who trains me!”
“really?! that’s cool as. Omen was the one who trained me when i first arrived. but anyway, keep your eardrums safe around raze she can be a bit loud.”
“veo, veo.”
you two keep discussing everyone until your food arrives.
“woah this looks good as, great pick (y/n)!”
“yeah, also i’ll pay for you if you want. I got spare cash”
“really! thats so nice!! gracias!”
eventually you get back, completely stuffed from the food.
“yo (y/n)! Gekko! you’re back. You guys want to watch a movie with me, raze, killjoy, sage, jett and omen?”
neon asked as soon as you walked through the door.
“yeah im down, what about you (y/n)?”
“yeah same! what movie are we watching?”
“a horror! its going to be so fun, just come to the common room when you’re ready.”
neon says before sprinting away. You look over to gekko and see him slightly frozen.
“you scared of horror movies or something?”
gekko nods his head slightly.
“don’t worry you can grab onto my arm if you get scared!”
gekko blushed a little at this.
“haha thank you (y/n)…”
the two of you walk to the common area and the movie starts. Everyone is sat in twos, Killjoy and raze, omen and sage, jett and neon.
the movie starts out well not too many scares but then the first jump scare happens. Making neon and Gekko jump
“oh shit!”
he says as he grabs onto your arm.
“sorry, didn’t mean to grab onto you.”
“its alright mateo-“
“shhhh!”
jett shushes the both of you.
the movie continues. With gekko basically clinging onto you for dear life. so like a good person you rub his back for him to clam down. he shivers at your touch. The movie ends, and killjoy and raze are giggling to themselves about how bad it was. omen and sage thank everyone for watching the movie as they walk to go do their own thing. while jett is comforting neon.
“neon it wasn’t that bad!”
“yes it was jett! what if that weird thing is going to come for me!!”
“come on lets go get you some water…”
which leaves you and gekko alone.
“you feeling alright?”
you ask him concerned.
“yep… yep. i’m alright. Man how do you not get scared?!”
you just shrug your shoulders.
“anyway i’m going to get ready for bed. If you get scared i don’t mind you waking me up or anything. I’m here for you.”
“okay, thanks for spending the day with me (y/n) it was really nice to get to know you!”
you leave.
He’s so cool..
i really like her..
OKAY THATS THE ENDING I MIGHT CONTINUE IT WHO KNOWS BUT I JUST WANTED TO GET THIS OUT. SORRY IF IT’S BAD I DIDN’T REALLY KNOW WHERE IT WAS GOING
#gekko#gekko x reader#valorant#valorant x y/n#valorant x reader#gekko x y/n#x reader#fluff#mateo#mateo x reader
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Yandere! Homelander! head-cannons!
He’s become my new obsession lately..
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He is a literal man-child and because of this, you haft to suffer for it.
Will throw the biggest bitch-fit if he didn’t get what’s he wants. He’s trying to be nice about it and ‘ask’ you to move in with him before taking force and ‘kidnapping’ you.
You should be grateful that he’s even looking in the direction of a non-supe!
Homelander has precious time that doesn’t need to be taken up by your worthless self right now. I mean, come on— Suck. It. Up.
Pull yourself together already, and stop screaming and scurry all over the floor like some kind of pet.
(Not that he wouldn’t want you on your knees already but yanno..)
He believes you’re being over-dramatic about everything.
Never seen a dead body before? Pfft- fucking amateur..
Don’t get me wrong, he loves you. He loves you so much that he willing to tear this world apart to find you if you ever dared to try and leave him.
Blood will be shed sweetheart. If risking the world for you is something that needs to happen so it can prove that he loves you and only you, then he will.
He just wants your affection back, for you to love him and Rock him to sleep like the mother he never got to have.
After Stilwell and storm front, just give this man a break already.
Seriously tho, wtf is wrong with people these days? Can’t the public just see that what he’s doing is for the importance of them?
He’s going to lay on your lap and rant to you forever. Just stroke his hair, hold his face with one hand and rub gentle circles on his cheek bones.
He basically begging at this point for some kind of attention. You just won’t give him any.
“Sweetness.. please..” he’ll try to call out, “Hunny, you know I don’t like it when you ignore me.”
Homelander refuses to hurt you, tho ends up doing it anyways. His level of patience is so thin. Sometimes, he just forgets that you’re only just a human.
Punishments are not going as extreme as he can make them, I’ll tell you that.
He’ll lock you in your room for days. Make you crave affection and become dependent on only him.
He’ll use all your essential needs as an excuse to get affection from you because he’s willing to stoop that-fucking-low right now.
“Hm? You need to use the bathroom? Give me a kiss first then ask me..”
Tampons? Pads? Ohhh lorddddd.
“Is it that time of the month already?” You nod, “Sure but only if you hold me and play with my hair.”
So you do.. next thing you know, Ashely’s at your front door with a few boxes of tampons and pads.
He cares, in his own little Homelander way.
From the way he grew up, it’s really hard to love someone for him. He never had any kind of front row seats to that kind of thing growing up.
He knows he’s mental, he knows- how could he not?
But hopefully you can break through that and just really see how much he loves you..?
They’re strict rules around the house:
No going out in the daytime. If you earned some fresh air you both wait till nightfall and he’ll fly you around for a bit with some duck tap around your mouth until he knows he can trust you.
He must accompany you in the kitchen. All knives and things sharp are already locked away but he still needs to be there with you.
4-7 minutes max in the bathroom. Take any longer and he will break the door down.
When he leaves anywhere you get attached to a 10tf chain around your ankle. You can barley reach the bathroom in your room much-less the door and even if you could, it’s locked from the outside with vought’s high tech security.
Cameras everywhere except for the bathroom. He needs to be able to see you at all times or just whenever he wants.
Homelander doesn’t ask more than twice for things. Refuse and punishment is the outcome.
There are many more but you get the idea. He’s just scared he’s going to loose you to bully butcher or worse, soldier boy.
Homelander is extremely jealous and possessive. You’re his and he’s yours, that’s all there is to it and that’s all there’s going to be.
Sometime in the future, Homelander is going to want kids.. if Becca got pregnant then you can too. It’s just going to take a lot of time and patience.
He wants to be the stereotypical “American family.”
A light yellow two story house lined with a white trim and surrounded by a white picket fence. 1 son, 1 daughter, 1 wife, 1 husband and a crusty white rich dog.
Press annoys him tho so he’ll move you out to the country side, away from everyone when you’re both ready to settle down.
<33333
#the boys x reader#the boys#yandere homelander#homelander x reader#homelander imagines#homelander#funny content#funny story#shit post#funny shit#amazon prime#x reader#yandere#yandere x reader#darkcore
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Heyy! Can you do a Steve Harrington x Henderson reader ( Dustin’s sister) & a little bit of an Eddie x Dustin’s sister where for whatever reason Eddie and Steve are staying the night with Dustin and his sisters there and Eddie and Steve both have a crush on her and they’re like silently battling each other the whole night for her attention and at night she’s in the kitchen or somewhere and it’s dark and Steve comes in there not knowing she was in there and they bump into each other and she trips and he catches her and it somehow turns into them kissing and Dustin and Eddie come to check on what all the noise was and they turn on the lights and find them kissing and Dustin is obviously freaking out and Eddie is superrrr jealous and so him and steve argue and everyone’s just like shook and you can add whatever else you want and I’m fine with smut if you’re comfortable with that of course but if not that’s okayyyy! I’m like obsessed with the whole jealousy love triangle type thing! Hope it’s not to much to ask sorryyyy, love your work btw!❤️
I loveeee writing about jealous Steve and Eddie. This is such a cute idea. I love it. Also thank you so much!
Dustin had been going on overdrive. Begging you to drive him to the supermarket so he can get snacks. Asking you if you could make your special homemade popcorn. Everything had to be perfect. You had been rolling your eyes but deep down you found it endearing. How much he cared for his friends.
Once you had made it home, Dustin had fianlly dropped the bomb on you.
“Oh, by the way it’s just going to be us and Steve and Eddie.” He said very quickly, “Okay, great! We’re going to have so much fu-.”
“Huh?! You didn’t tell me this, I made too much popcorn. You saw me making that popcorn.” Dustin made a guilty face, he smiled sheepishly.
“Dustin!”
“What?! I knew you wouldn’t have stayed home if it was just going to be us four.” Dustin said.
You shook your head but there wasn’t anything you really could do about it. The door bell rang and Dustin lit up like a Christmas tree. He ran towards it, yelling.
“They’re here! They’re here!” You heard pattering steps heading towards the kitchen. You immediately turn your attention back to the popcorn. Though, it was already ready. You pretended to stir it.
“Hey gorgeous, I haven’t seen you a few-.” The voice belonged to no other than, Steve Harrington. You glance over your shoulder to see him.
“Hours? We literally work at the same store.”
“Ohhh that’s right, we do. Isn’t that crazy, Munson?” Your body finally facing them both, a grimace is on Eddie’s lips. His eyes are trained on Steve, a glare being directed towards him. But Steve merely smiles at him. Delighted by the other boys annoyance.
“Oh wow, so cool.” Eddie says, Dustin is watching both boys with raised eyebrows. He turns to you and gives you a “do you know what this is about.”
“No” you give back.
Thinking nothing of it, you try to continue on with the day. But both boys are still acting strange. Eddie almost hitting Steve with a pillow, just because Steve had placed you onto his lap. A blush had crept onto your face. It heated up your face.
“Can you guys chill! The movie has been on for barely two hours and you’re fighting! Is making me! Want to kick you guys out!” Dustin says, both boys finally stop whatever they were doing. But you didn’t miss the glare they send the other.
You rolled your eyes. Thankfully, night finally fell on sleepy Hawkins. You resisted the yawn that was about to stream from your lips. Steve had been following you around like a lovesick puppy. Eddie was almost doing the same but less outright. Always making sure he ran to sit next to you. Causing Steve to glare where he sat next to Dustin.
Dustin had a pissed off look on his face. You could recognize it from miles away. You felt guilt building a home in your heart. You felt guilty for ruining the night for Dustin. He had left to his room without a word. You told Eddie and Steve to sleep in the guest room.
“I can keep your bed warm for you.” Eddie teased, you glared at him.
“Gross dude.” Steve said, smacking him with a towel he had found on the counter. But finally, both boys retreated towards the guest room. It was closest to your mom and the bathroom. Dustin and your rooms were on opposite sides of each other.
***
In the middle of night, hunger was circling around your stomach. You’d realized you barely ate anything, too focused on the weirdness from both Steve and Eddie. Thankfully, your mom had bought frozen pizzas. So it would be easy to pop one into the oven.
You tiptoed down the hallway, hoping you hadn’t woken anyone up. You hadn’t even bothered to turn on any lights either. You let out a small squeal, to see Steve with a glass of water in his hands. His eyes widen.
“Shit, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s okay, I was just going to make some food. I forgot to eat, when everything—.” You trailed off, knowing that the conversation was about to tip into something uncomfortable.
“Hey, I’m really sorry about earlier. I already spoke to Dustin, we didn’t mean to make things uncomfortable for the two of you.” Steve said earnestly. Your heart fluttered at the thought that Steve didn’t let Dustin sleep angrily. Your heart almost damn soared out of your chest.
“Thank you for that. I really don’t get why you and Eddie are always in rival with each other.” He looks at you for a good moment, almost searching for a sign if you’re joking. And he laughs a small laugh.
“What?” He walks towards you, his eyes never leaving yours. Your cheeks feel hot from how he’s staring. Like he can see right through you.
“I thought it was obvious why. There’s this amazing girl who we both desperately want to make ours.” You noticed now how close he is to you. You feel dizzy just by this act alone. Your eyes lower so you can’t see his face. If you do, you know your knees would give out.
“D-do I know this girl?” A silly question, but you need to be sure.
He scoffs, his hands are your face. You can’t help it, you look at him. He has a smile on his face, his thumb rubbing against your cheek. His lips are on yours instantly and you don’t pull away. You lean into the kiss. He presses you up on the counter, you pull away for a second for him. Then your lips meet again and again.
Your hands are in his hair and he’s moaning. If true bliss was a person, it was Steve. It was always going to be him for you.
Suddenly, the lights turn on. You and Steve pull away from each other in shock.
“What the hell!?” Dustin says, his eyes look like they’re bugging out of his head. Eddie is looking at the two of you in disbelief. Then jealousy spreads across his features.
“Of course, it’s always King Steve. King Steve always gets the girl. Even though, he promised he’ll let the girl decide.” You look from Steve and Eddie. Then to Dustin who looks as if he’s trying to calculate how this is possible.
“Did you two jerks use me to get to my sister?!” Dustin says, he’s still freaking out. He’s pacing back and forth.
“Oh please, it’s not my fault she’s always liked me and not you.” Steve says, ignoring Dustin. Who is still bugged eyed.
“You know what man, I knew you were a fucking asshole-.”
“Can we not do this at—“ Dustin looks down at his watch. “—You shitheads, it’s 2am! Can we please have this conversation when everyone has gotten enou—“
“No! No! Because it’s not fucking fair, that Mr.Perfect always gets whatever the hell he wants. He couldn’t—.”
“Eddie! She was never going to choose you! It—“
“Okay! Enough! Both of you! My mom is sleeping in the next room. Like Dustin said we’ll talk about this in the morning.” You say, you’ve completely let go of Steve. He turns to you, his lips a bit parted but he nods.
“Whatever, I already know what you’re going to say. Be with him, see if I care.”
Eddie retreats back into the room. Dustin looks down at the floor than finally at you.
“Thanks for ruining this for me. Great big sister that you are.”
You stare at Dustin agape, but he also retreats into his room. Steve looks like he’s about to say something. But you run back to your room. The whole night you can’t help but cry.
***
The next morning, everything is awkward as ever. Even your mom can’t break the ice. Eddie and Steve keep glancing at you, guilt on their faces. You’re all sitting in the dining table. You push around your food, not really eating anything.
“Hey, look I’m really sorry for last night. I- I didn’t mean to mess things up with you two.” Eddie is addressing you and Dustin. Dustin and you only glance at each other before looking back at your food.
“No one is going to get dessert if everyone doesn’t apologize. I’ll be in the next room.” Your mom says, getting up from the table and walking to her room.
“Your relationship together matters to Eddie and I. We didn’t mean for our stupid rivalry to get in the way of that.”
You and Dustin finally sigh and turn to the other.
“Promise me, you won’t let this ruin anything?” Dustin says.
“Pinky promise.” You say, holding out your finger. He takes his own out and he meets it with yours.
“And you two! I better not see you guys fighting over her. Figure that out, the three of you. For the love of god.”
Both boys mumble a sorry before getting back to the breakfast on the table. You finally pick up your fork to place egg in your mouth.
“Mom!” Dustin yells, “You can come out now!”
#stranger things#stranger things x reader#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve harrington x reader#eddie munson x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington fic
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