#my stomach hurts i love hard drive comments
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Tequila
Summary: Tequila has a lot to answer for when Y/N wakes up naked in Dean’s bed, but once the shock wears off, she realises that maybe it’s not such a bad thing.
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader
Rating: Teen
Warnings: alcohol consumption, mentions of smut, angst, fluff, feelings, friends to lovers
Word Count: 1k
A/N: Another December Drabble for you all to enjoy!
My Masterlist AO3 Ko-Fi
Consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite, or leaving a comment. It really does fuel a creative’s muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and you don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM 💖
The sun streams through the motel’s threadbare curtains, rudely awakening you from a deep, drunken sleep. Your head is pounding, and there’s a ringing in your ears that comes with the vague memory of the loud music playing at the bar last night.
It’d been a hard hunt to stomach: Lamia, a child-eating demon, had decided to take up residence in Grangeville, Idaho, and once you’d blasted her ass back to hell, you and Dean really, really needed to let off a lot of steam.
Luckily, there was a dive bar next door to the motel, so neither of you had to stay sober enough to drive home, and you’d both been well and truly shit-faced. You’d hustled a small fortune playing pool; he’d sung karaoke, and there were tequila shots… lots and lots of tequila shots.
A snore from behind you made you freeze. It sounded like Dean, but that couldn’t be right. Why would you and Dean be in the same bed? Whoever it was rolled over and slid their arm over your waist, pulling you into their body. You could feel something hard poke the back of your thigh… at least he’s packing, you thought before the mystery man spoke.
“Good morning, sweetheart.” Suddenly, the whole night’s events come flooding back to you at once.
One tequila shot turned into two. Two turned to four. Four turned to six, and before you knew it, you were stumbling through the door to Dean’s room, lips attached to his, nails raking through his hair and over his scalp and neck, tongues dancing a passionate tango while your clothes flew in every direction.
Dean made love to you so deliciously good. He was sweet and gentle at times. Rough and hard when you needed it. In all the years you’d known him, this was the first time you’d ended up in his bed, yet he knew your body better than you did.
The green-eyed hunter had known how to pleasure you better than anyone had before him. Touching places no one had ever touched before. Taking you higher than you’d ever been, making you scream his name so loud the occupant next door had banged the wall.
It’s overwhelming, and you can feel last night’s alcohol swirl dangerously in your stomach, threatening to make an appearance. You lifted the covers and glanced down. Yep, definitely naked.
Pulling the sheet tighter to your body, you cautiously turn around, your worst fear confirmed as Dean’s twinkling green orbs and cocky smirk greet you.
“Well, this changes things!” he grins, and you can’t decide if you want to punch his painfully beautiful face or kiss him.
“Oh, God!” you gasp, covering your face with your hands. “This can’t be happening.”
“Y/N?” Dean asks, concern evident in his voice. “You okay?”
“I can’t believe I did you—I mean that. I can’t believe I did that,” you mumble.
“Come on, don’t be like that! We had a great time. I got you off six times, sweetheart! That’s a personal record for me!”
Dean’s words are meant to be comforting, but they do the opposite and only embarrass you more. The urge to kiss him is gone, leaving you wanting to punch his painfully beautiful, smug face.
“Seriously, Y/N, are you okay? Did I hurt you in any way? Did you not want that to happen? Because I gotta say, you were all over me at the bar, and I get that we had a lot of tequila and were drunk, but I thought you wanted me, too?”
Now that Dean had put his cocky persona aside and the real Dean was in the room, you’d changed your mind again and wanted to kiss him.
“No, Dean. I wanted it to happen. I have for an embarrassingly long time. What I don’t want is to be just another notch on your bedpost. It’s why I’ve never given in to your very persuasive charms over the years. Because I want to be more than just one night to you. And I know that’s not what you want—”
“Woah, Y/N, slow down!” Dean shot up on the bed and turned you to face him. “Did you not hear me when I said this changes things? Do you honestly think I’d risk what we have for one night? I’ve wanted you since the day we met, and last night was the first time since we met that you’ve shown any interest in me. And sweetheart, I haven’t been shy in pulling out my best moves for you.” His words and body language are so expressive and genuine, and you know he’s not feeding you a line. He likes you and he’s wanted you for a long time. All of his flirting and come-ons were real.
“And I thought ‘this is it. I finally get to call her my girl’. Maybe I shouldn’t have followed through with it when we were drunk, but I don’t regret taking my chance with you. Please tell me you don’t regret what happened.” Dean cups your cheeks to keep your gaze on his. The pain crossing his features breaks your heart. You want to tell him you feel the same way, but it’s risky.
“Honestly, I don’t remember much from last night, just bits and pieces, but I know enough to know that if that happened, I wanted it to happen,” you say, trying to ignore the look of Dean’s disappointment at your lack of memory from the night before.
“Do you really want me?” you ask, terrified this was a tequila-induced dream.
“Since the day I met you. And if you’re interested, I’d like to see where we’d go. Together. As a couple.” For once, Dean looks incredibly shy and vulnerable, making your heart swell.
“I’d like that too, De,” you smile, giggling when he grins boyishly.
“Yeah?” he checks, and you nod.
“Yeah,” you confirm.
“Then, I think you should lay back and let me refresh your memory of last night,” Dean grins as he gently pushes you back down on the mattress and pulls your legs apart.
Tags: @acitygrownwillow @akshi8278 @ashbatz @candy-coated-misery0731 @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @deansbbyx @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @jamerlynn @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @lyarr24 @michecolegate @mrsjenniferwinchester @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @nelachu2423 @octoberclidan @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnbaby-67 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @suckitands33 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567 @winchestergirl1720
#tequila#december drabbles#dean winchester x female!reader#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester fic#dean winchester
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THE DATE || JJK
Pairing : Boxer jk × Female reader
Genre : Established relationship, Boxer au
Summary : Spending the whole day going on various dates with your boyfriend, starting from amusement parks to trying sushi for the first time with your boyfriend.
Warnings : Female reader, Butt taps, KISSES, a few suggestive comments but no actual smut, making out, shy reader and jk, Reader hates sushi (sorry if u don't lmao), cringe couple shit.
The bright light shines down on your and your boyfriends face as you struggle to get into your boyfriends car. "Need help getting your cute ass in there?" He asks causing you to groan, "Its all your fault jeon, shut up" you speak up glaring at him.
He feigns innocence and teasingly replies while holding his chest pretending to be hurt, "baby it was not me who was whining yesterday night to go faster"
"Its not my fault my boyfriend doesn't know how to fuck properly that I have to beg him to do the bare minimum" you look up at him with a teasing glint but immediately regret it when you see his dark gaze.
"And thats why you squirted three times yesterday, was yesterday not enough brat?", causing you to immediately smile and peck his cheek,
"I'm just kidddinngggg jungkook, don't be mean and start the car, I wanna go ride all the rides and don't be scared ill protect you",
causing jungkook to scoff, "Lets see whose the one who ends up crying like a baby". The car ride is pretty silent except for jungkook singing and cursing at people for not driving properly.
"You're so handsome" causing jungkook to look away from you and blush "get down baby we're here"
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Here you were standing in the line for about 40 mins to get on the ferris wheel, because according to jungkook its very romantic, "jungkook i can't do it please, its so hot i can't even stand" you say while taking heavy breathes causing jungkook to look at you while rasing his eyebrows, his hands grip your waist and pulls you closer, " If u wanted me to carry you so badly, all u could've done is asked instead of whining" he smirks and abruptly lifts you up causing you to yell at him.
"Jungkook are you dumb, put me down there are kids here, put me down you idi-mmph"
You feel jungkooks lip press onto yours harshly and his hands grip you tightly in his arms, you start feeling all giddy inside until u feel him pull away and lick a stripe up your cheeks. "JUNGKOOK YOU'RE DISGUSTING"
Jungkook puts you down and back hugs you so that you won't be able to hit him, "baby thats just how I show i love you, and u smelled so good" causing you to admit your Defeat.
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The sun starts setting down and jungkook decides that its time to picnic in the park,so you and you're beloved boxer boyfriend sit on the mat that you layed out.
You both were lying on your stomach and facing each other, jungkook had one of his hands on your hips holding your long flowy skirt down, and your hands were caressing his eyebrows, eyes, his scar, his lips, as you lean to Peck his lips.
"Did I tell you, you look really pretty today and the skirt looks really good on you"
"You did" , "nothing wrong with saying it again, you're so pretty, the prettiest and the cutest, even though we argue like kids sometimes, but that's something I wouldn't change for the world." This makes you tear up a but as jungkook was never really someone who spoke his feelings, you push his chest and make him lay on his back and lay on top of him with only your lower body on the mat and your upper bodies pressed together, you start pecking all over his face and whisper lovingly " i love you so much jungkook, you're so cute, the cutest cutie pie"
causing jungkook to groan, "I'm not cute baby, way to ruin the moment" causing you to giggle, "just like how your hard on is ruining the moment by poking my stomach, can't even be romantic with my boyfriend" you huff and lay down on your side facing away from him pretending to be mad.
Jungkook pinches your hips, "cmon turn around" and you don't.
But jungkook takes this as a perfect opportunity to hit your butt, the sound of his hands hitting your butt echoes through your ears as you yelp and bring your hands to cover your rear. "Stop that jeon, it hurts" making jungkook coo and rub your butt and he proceeds to pat it, " there you go all better or do u want me to kiss it better?"
"Talk to me when your hard on is gone", you say.
Jungkook sighs and lifts your head and slides it onto his arm, as a pillow and hugs your waist from behind. "What are you doing" , "spooning my baby, what can I do when my girlfriends being all cute and sexy, ofcourse I'm gonna get hard" you blush as you feel his hard on on your back.
You turn around in his arm and wrap your arms around his neck, making him wrap his arms around your waist, you both smile at each other and you slowly inch closer, you feel his breath on you're lips and you pull him closer and press your lips on his, his hands immediately grip you tighter and pull you closer causing you to whimper. Jungkook groans at that and pushes his tounge inside your mouth roughly and grips your chin to pull you even more closer, making you pull away from the absence of air, whimpering. But you have no time to catch your breath as a pair of lips proceeds to press itself on your lips and jungkooks hand pulls you even more closer, you try pushing him away by his chest, but he doesn't even budge.
"I c-cant breathe m-mphh* resulting in jungkook to finally pull away and giggle.
All this loving peace lasts for a moment until we see an old couple walking up to us yelling about public indecency causing you to freak out and get up and trying to make jungkook get up, "jungkook come on let's run", "baby tf are they gonna do, let them fucking come ill take care of them, don't be scared"
"JUNGKOOK IF YOU DONT GET UP RIGHT NOW I SWEAR IM GONNA CRY" this threat results in jungkook complying as you both hold each others hands and make a run for it as the old couples curses slowly dissappear into thin air and the only thing that's audible is the laughter that vibrates off of your chest, and the pure love you have for each other, at this moment you silently look up at jungkook and admire him and you realize how lucky you are to have a man like him.
"Stop looking at me like that if you don't want me to eat you", "you know what I'm hungry jungkook". After a back and forth argument of where to eat, you both decide to eat at this sushi place, as you told you're boyfriend you've never had sushi.
"Come on baby order anything you want, I'll pay" causing you to giggle "ofc sugar daddy"
"I can be your daddy if you like"
"JUNGKOOK", "I'm sorry"
You regret this, you can't eat it, you feel like throwing up, "it tastes so bad, how do people eat this?" Causing jungkook to act like he was offended "how dare you say that to my baby, she tastes so good, baby you don't have to eat it, order something else If you want"
That night when you had food poisoning, jungkook was the one who held your hair back when you threw up, he was the one who made sure you fell asleep with no discomfort, he made sure to stay awake to ensure you don't wake up in the middle of the night due to discomfort, he was the one who made sure you were warm and comfortable, he was the one who loved you, he was the one who put up with your tantrums, he was the one who let's you cuddle him every night even though he pretends to hate it, he is the one who always offers a shoulder to cry on or put your legs on.
#jungkook established relationship#jungkook smut#jungkook#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook x oc#jungkook x y/n#jungkook bts#jeon jungkook#jungkook boyfriend material#bts#bts jungkook
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Leavin’ Early
Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google
Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader
Warnings: SMUT! 18+ please! Or I’m telling on you! I mean it! Let’s see, there’s a little bit of everything in here…fingering, oral (F! Receiving) unprotected P in V sex (just cuz, the end 😉) Billy being in complete control of you
Word Count: 3.1K-ish
Summary: You and Billy leave a wedding early because, well, you want him. In every which way you want him and you want him now and he wants you too.
A/N: This is for my lovely friend Lisa @music-indie-tv who sent in this ask from a smut prompt list I reblogged a few days ago. I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again, smut is NOT my wheelhouse but I wanted the practice, so please be gentle! The prompt was:
'take control of me, I trust you' With Billy sounds really hot 🥵
Thank you again for sending this in. I hope you like it! 💜
As always, thank you for reading! I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕
“Can we go? My feet hurt.”
Batting your eyelashes, you looked up at Billy to watch a sly smile appear across his handsome face. Never breaking eye contact, he took a sip of his bourbon and let it swirl around his tongue, you could tell he was really tasting the smooth tones of maple, oak, and nutmeg.
His top lip retreated back to reveal clenched teeth as he swallowed, watching as you took a sip of the same bourbon from your glass. The medium amber liquid had a gentle spiciness and a sweet oak aroma with a complex taste. Hints of vanilla and honey sprinted across your tongue before a long and smoky finish had your taste buds begging for another sip.
“It’s your friend’s wedding, baby. We can go if you’re ready though, just don’t let that bourbon go to waste. It’s pretty good for not being what we usually drink.” He said, raising his eyebrows, still gazing at you as he took another sip.
With one hand wrapped around his glass, the other pulled you in close by your waist, taking you a little by surprise. His expensive cologne floated past your nose as he leaned in to whisper in your ear.
“You have any idea how hot you look tonight, my love?” He asked.
Billy’s warm breath grazed the top of your ear while his crotch pressed gently against your core, causing your stomach to drop and the hair on the back of your neck to stand up on end. Your panties already had a wet spot on them from the wink he gave you across the room earlier tonight.
He always looked incredibly handsome. His suit always tailored to perfection, not a hair out of place, and his crisp white dress shirt was hugging his tight body in all the right places.
But there was something about the way he looked tonight that was driving you absolutely insane, like you wanted him to do whatever he wanted with you. If he wanted to fuck you in the bathroom or the elevator, you’d be more than willing to let him.
Red hot heat expanded across your cheeks and an intense shudder raced down your spine. The sharp tingle spread throughout your core and he only had a hand on your waist. Billy wasn’t even touching your skin when a low guttural moan escaped your mouth. Slowly, your tongue skirted across your top lip followed by a gentle hum.
“Hmmmmm…oh really?” You asked, shyly.
Billy brushed your collar bone with his long slender fingers as his gaze raked over you filled with concentrated desire. The primal need for him was becoming stronger as his half hard cock twitched in his pants against your black velvet dress.
He had been staring at you possessively since you started to get ready for the wedding. Leaning against the door frame and with a wide smile across his face, he stared while you sang along to the Rolling Stones in the shower.
The steam from the hot water fogged up the glass but he could still make out your silhouette, dancing seductively like no one was watching covered from head to toe in a rich soapy lather.
Billy let out a little chuckle but you couldn’t hear him over the music, so he gently cleared his throat.
Not bothering to turn around, you continued to dance while asking him “You see somethin’ you like, handsome?”
“Oh I always see somethin’ I like when I’m lookin’ at you, baby.” He said, stripping off his t-shirt and jeans to join you in the shower.
“You’re gonna make us late, Billy!” You said, laughing as his lips collided with yours and pressing you up against the shower wall. “My dress is open in the back, I can’t have tile marks on my back!”
He traced his kisses down your neck, to your breasts and making you whimper as he lightly flicked his tongue against your nipple. You didn’t want him to stop but there was no way you’d be ready for the wedding in time if he kept this up.
Billy watched intently as you put the finishing touches on your makeup and hair, while he adjusted his tie. He was so proficient at it, he could tie it with his eyes closed. It turned you on and made you so needy for him, watching him as he shined his shoes, adjusted his cufflinks, and combed his hair.
The same hair that had been in between your fingers an hour ago in the shower as he captured your mouth over and over again, your leg wrapped around the back of his thigh, making sure that you held him as flush as you possibly could to him because Billy loved your touches, he craved them like a man starved.
Physical touch was Billy’s love language and you made sure to always show him physical affection whether it’s lightly raking your nails against his scalp or aggressively digging your nails into his back while he fucked you.
He just loved being touched…by you and only you.
But right now, it was you who desired to be touched by him.
“Yes, my sweet girl. I’ve been eyeing you since you were singing in the shower.” He said. “Here…” Looking around, Billy guided your free hand down to his crotch. “This is what you do to me.” He was getting harder by the second. In the dim light of the ballroom, no one seemed to notice.
Billy took the final sip of his bourbon and set the glass on the high top table next to you. Again, you watched as his Adam’s apple moved up and down when he swallowed, and desperately wanting to taste the leftover bourbon on his lips.
He pinched your chin in between his thumb and forefinger and tilted it up to meet his stare, his eyes intense and dark like a dolls eyes but they were so beautiful.
His slightly wicked smile was all you could see right before he kissed you. Billy’s lips were soft, warm and tasted like vanilla with a little bit of honey.
“Well then take me home, Billy.” You whispered in his ear and taking the final sip of your bourbon. “Take control of me, I trust you.”
He barely let you put the glass down before whisking you out of the reception hall and out to the car he had waiting to take the two of you home.
The brisk autumn air brushed against the bare skin of your shoulders. He pulled you outside quickly after retrieving your coats and frantically looked for the car he hired for the night.
“Don’t you dare put that on.” He said firmly, extending his index finger to point toward you.
Billy practically had you naked in the car on the way home except for your thigh highs and heels. He hovered above you, gingerly brushing the hair away from your eyes, and cupping your cheeks as his lips crashed onto yours. He peppered kisses from your forehead, down your stomach to your knees which trembled at his gentle touch.
His proficient fingers teased your entrance as you arched your back off of the leather seat. One finger pushed inside you, hooking at just the right spot that caused you to sharply inhale and moan into his mouth as he fucked you with just one finger.
You were dripping down his hand as he inserted a second finger just as your walls started to tighten around him, your orgasm slowly building while he finger fucked you in back of the town car.
Each time he pushed his fingers inside, it brought you closer and closer to your release, but he was teasing you on purpose. He was controlling you, just as you had told him to do.
“You’re soaking my hand, baby. You wanna come, don’t you. But I don’t want you to just yet.” He said with a sly smile.
“B-Billy, please!” You choked out with a hitch in your voice.
He was enjoying this as he did every time you wanted him to take control of you. It made him so hard that his cock was straining against his suit pants, begging to be released.
“Ah, ah…not yet sweet girl. We’re not home yet.” He whispered harshly against your mouth with the sweet smell of bourbon on his lips and the fingers of his free hand ghosting over your lips. “Who’s in control here, me or you?”
“Y-you are, Billy.” The words stumbling out of your mouth like you had no control of what you were saying because you were unable see straight.
Moving rhythmically, his fingers felt amazing as you rocked back and forth against them but he stopped you when he felt what you were doing.
“Stop that or I’m taking my fingers away.” A devilish grin stretched across his face.
Through a soft whine, you pleaded with him not to.
“B-but feels so good, baby.”
His dark chocolate eyes stared intensely at you. “You gonna be good for me?” He asked, licking his thumb before drawing circles on your clit. “Or do I have to keep teasing you like this?”
“I’ll be good, Billy.” You whined.
He pushed his fingers inside once more. “That’s my good girl. We’re almost home and don’t put your dress back on when we get there…just your coat.”
You were thankful that your coat was long.
Billy was always very attentive to your needs, the man was not a selfish lover but you made sure to give him what he needed also because he always left you more than satisfied.
So it wasn’t a surprise that as soon as the elevator doors closed, he was on his knees in front of you, your body pushed into the corner of the elevator, and one of your legs draped over his shoulder. He didn’t waste any time parting your folds with his tongue, wanting to devour and taste you so badly, and enjoying every last drop.
A tremor of pleasure shot through your body when he began to suck on your clit. His once perfect hair tumbled into his eyes after you gently pulled on it, and scratching his scalp with your nails. The gradual intensity of your release building again as you pleaded with Billy to let you come.
All he said to you was “Soon…”
He rose to his feet and crushed his lips down against yours, pressing you so hard against the corner of the elevator you thought you might end up on the other side of the wall. The impressive bulge in his pants showed you how badly he wanted you.
With his eyes firmly locked on yours, Billy pulled you into a tight embrace that caused all of the air to escape your lungs while his rock hard cock compressed against you, which soaked the front of his pants.
Your feet still hurt from the shoes you were wearing.
“Billy.” You gasped against his lips. “My feet still hurt. Can I take my shoes off…please?”
“I do love hearing you beg, sweet girl…allow me.” He said sweetly.
Billy kneeled down in front of you, unfastened the straps on your shoes and slid them off your feet just as the elevator reached the top floor. Even though Billy was in complete control of you, he was still sweet, considerate and he would do anything for you.
“I want you to beg some more when we get inside, baby.” He said with a slight smirk.
As soon as the door closed behind you, the dress and shoes in your hand dropped to the floor along with your long wool coat. The only pieces of clothing you had on were your thigh high stockings. Still fully clothed, Billy threw you over his shoulder, carried you to the bedroom and gently put you down on the side of the bed.
The feral look in his eyes said he wasn’t going to make you wait much longer. You had been dying to have him since this afternoon in the shower and he had been teasing you ever since.
“Roll those stockings down and I’ll let you take off my tie.” He whispered in your ear.
“But Billy—“ You started to say when he interrupted you.
All teeth and tongue, Billy kissed you hard. “Roll…the…stockings…down, my love.”
You did as you were told, your hands trembling slightly as you rolled the stockings down your leg and pulled them off.
By this time you were overstimulated. You wanted him badly and you would do anything to get it. No one besides Billy ever made you feel like this, the flutters in your stomach were constant and never went away.
Every time he looked at you, delectable sparks ran along your spine, and your insides crackled with warmth any time he would flash that perfect smile at you.
“Need you, Billy.” You mewled.
He licked his bottom lip. “Help me undress, baby. And I’ll give you what you need.”
You loosened his tie first and unbuttoned his dress shirt, revealing the white undershirt. Slowly pushing his dress shirt off of his shoulders, you bit down on your bottom lip trying to stop yourself from ripping his clothes off of his tight body. Billy really was the sexiest man you’ve ever laid eyes on and sometimes it was still hard to believe that he was all yours.
Reaching for his belt, your fingers were wiggling impatiently. He could tell you were overstimulated so he eased back and softened his voice for you.
“Relax, sweet girl. It’s ok. Get in bed, I’ll do the rest.” He said.
Easing back onto the bed, you watched attentively as he removed his pants and boxer briefs. You could see his scars even in the dim light of the bedroom, remembering the night he told you about all of them even the scars that he didn’t get from being overseas.
You loved him even more for having the courage to tell you about them.
“Lie back, beautiful…and don’t move. It will just delay what you want most.” His stern tone was back.
Billy loved to tease you but you did ask for it. He would have fucked you hard and fast in the car on the way home but you told him “take control of me.” And that’s exactly what he was doing. He was controlling your actions, telling you what he wanted you to do, even telling you when you could come. You hated it and loved it at the same time. It just made your orgasms that much more intense.
He hungrily attacked your body like a wild animal attacking its prey. At times, his onyx colored eyes were locked on you, stalking you, figuring out where to tease you next. His lips and tongue painted your body like it was a canvas and you were a priceless work of art.
To him, you were priceless, you were perfect, and you were all he had ever wanted.
You reached out to graze his beard with your thumb and pull his face close to yours but he grabbed your wrist and pinned it firmly above your head.
That made you pout. “I wanna touch you, Billy.”
“No, baby…not yet.” He growled.
He leaned down to touch his forehead to yours, it was something that he always did to show you how much he loved you before his lips collided with yours. A loud guttural moan escaped your lips as he left little love bites down your neck and gently bit down on that spot on your neck that made you see stars.
For being as touched starved as he was, Billy really did have willpower when it came to him telling you “no” until he was ready. He loved having your hands all over him and you were very gentle when it came to touching his scars.
He loved your desperate, hungry kisses but when your lips would come in contact with his scars, those kisses were tender and comforting and he loved those too.
He was safe with you.
Gazing down at you, he released your wrist and you pulled down on his lower lip before brushing your knuckles across his cheek. His warm skin felt so good against your fingertips and you could almost hear his heart beating out of his chest.
The anticipation was almost painful, he was desperate for you too and knew you had been patient long enough. Using his knee, he pushed your legs apart and lined himself up before slowly pushing against your entrance.
Every cell in your body was on pins and needles, ready for him to move but he waited so he could easily stretch you out and completely bury his cock inside of you.
The noises he pulled from you as he began to move were sinful and became louder when he picked up the pace. Billy’s mouth slanted over yours, preventing the gasp that wanted to flee from your lips. The pleasure wound tighter and tighter inside you as his thrusts became faster and you pulled him in deeper.
Even though he had been controlling you, he was also controlling himself. He lived to please you and hated depriving you of anything especially an orgasm. Those sounds of pleasure were music to his ears and a smirk played across his lips every time he felt your walls flutter around him.
He was close, and felt the contractions in you core one last time before spilling into you…hard, still moving in and out to make sure he filled you up before collapsing on top of you. The sweat on his brow trickled down his temple as you brushed his hair away from his eyes, trying your best to catch your breath.
Billy’s lips found yours for a romantic kiss, his fingers winding around strands of your hair to move them away from your face.
“You alright, sweet girl?” He asked.
Your knees were shaking a little. “Y-yeah, Billy. I’m fine…well more than fine actually.” And you started to laugh.
“It drives me crazy to do that to you, y/n but it feels so good.” He said.
“Yes it does…I love you, Billy.” You said, lightly scratching his scalp.
He gazed down at you with his million dollar smile and said “I love you too, baby. Hey, do you think your friend will mind that we Irish-goodbye’d her wedding?”
You pulled him in for another soft kiss.
“Well it’s only fair, she Irish-goodbye’d ours.” You said with a warm smile.
See…sometimes it’s worth it to leave the party early.
Tag List: @mindidjarin @saintmurd0ck @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @xdervyxccgh @mattmurdocksscars @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialams @idek-what-to-put @anastasianeedstoread @ratsys @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @rosaleenablack @vaguekayla @qu1etwolf
Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @simple-lovebot @russosafehaven @mrsbillyrusso @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend
If you’d like to be added to (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.
#billy russo x reader#billy russo fanfic#billy russo#billy russo imagine#billy russo smut#billy russo fanfiction
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hi!! i read one of your fics and immediately came to do a request 🤣❤️. id love a angst to fluff with changbin! maybe he makes the wrong comment or forgets to pick up the reader or literally whatever lol. i just love angst and binnie
-🕷️anon (?)
Hi anon!!!! I was so excited when I seen this because it’s my first request 🥹. I LOVE angst too and while I was writing this, I realized 98% was angst and the fluff ain’t fluffing that much😂. Still, I hope you enjoy and don’t hesitate to request anything else ❤️🫶🏾
_____
Thin Ice
//gn!reader x idol!Changbin//
Synopsis: Changbin forgets about you….again
Genre: Angst/eventual fluff (kinda sorta)
Warnings: super angsty, sad…not enough fluff (lmao)
~~~|~~~
You walk into your dark apartment, rain dripping from your heavy clothes. It rained -hard- all day. Usually, you walk to and from work every day but this morning you asked your boyfriend to drive you.
He was ecstatic when you asked. He finally had a couple of days off and wanted to spend every waking moment with you. You and Changbin blasted his group’s music to your job, singing and laughing as rain pounded down on the car.
He swore he’d be outside your building 30 minutes before you even got off. The rain was starting to flood the streets a little, so he texted you every hour to check-in.
Two hours before you got off, he had stopped texting. You thought nothing of it, thinking he was probably napping. It wasn’t until 45 minutes before you were set to leave that you started to call him. He wasn’t answering, which worried you.
At the end of your shift, you left the building and were immediately met with the worsening weather.
The rain sounded like stomps when they met the ground. The bottom of your pants and your shoes would undoubtedly get immersed in water. Even with a jacket and umbrella, you knew you’d still be soaked.
After looking around for Changbin’s car, you conclude that he wasn’t there. No biggie, maybe traffic? Maybe he overslept a little- but was still on his way?
But what if something happened? He wasn’t answering you, and your stomach started to hurt while you thought of any and everything that could have happened.
You called Chan. You knew that if anyone knew where Changbin was, it was one of his members.
Chan’s phone rang for a while, making you even more anxious because he never took this long to answer.
Thankfully, he answered on the last ring.
“Hello?” He asked, voice laced with worry
“Hi Channie! I’m so sorry to call so randomly but I can’t get in touch with Bin. Please tell me you know where he is”
Chan says, “I talked to him a little while ago, he was at the studio last time I checked”
You were taken aback. The studio? Why was he there? He had time off, why was he working?
“You guys were at the studio?” You question
“No, he was at the studio. He said he needed to work on an idea before it escaped him.”
You sigh, knowing how Changbin gets when he’s at the studio. He can’t multitask, he probably couldn’t even hear his phone ringing while working.
You groan loudly, seeing the rain only get worse “Okay. Thanks anyways”
“No problem y/nnie. Are you okay though? Do you need me to do anything?”
You smile despite your current feelings. Chan always wanted to help out, and you would ask him to come get you if the weather wasn’t getting so bad.
“I’m fine, but could you call up to the company and get someone to check in on Bin?”
“Sure! Is that all you need though? Aren’t you off work now? Are you home? Are you safe?”
“I’m safe.” You say, not wanting to explain the situation. Chan seems satisfied with your answer and you two hang up just as a loud boom of thunder erupts in the darkening sky.
Your coworkers are all rushing to their cars to get home, You on the other hand go to your building’s lobby and sit down.
Hours go by and not a single call from Changbin. Chan did tell you a staff member looked in on him, and he was fine, just in his zone.
You didn’t want to be upset, but you were. When work was involved, nothing else around him mattered. You wanted to believe you didn’t take a backseat to his career, but this event had your mind racing.
This isn’t the first time he forgot about you when his job was involved. He had a habit of ignoring you during the little time you guys had together to work.
The studio was his place, and you knew that.
You loved how passionate he was about the things he liked- but you wanted him to be just as passionate about you and you guy’s relationship.
Changbin was far from being a bad boyfriend, he was an amazing partner, but things like this made you sick to your stomach.
Once the rain calmed down a little, you attempted to call a cab but the streets were a little too flooded. You had to walk home, getting completely drenched.
That brings you to the present, standing in your dark living room while listening to the sounds of the shower running.
He was home. He didn’t even call you to tell you he had gotten home safe.
You walk through the apartment until you reach your bedroom. There, you begin to strip out your wet clothes. You didn’t stop until you were down to your underwear. You took the clothes and placed them in your hamper while hearing the bathroom door open and footsteps near the bedroom.
Changbin entered the room and immediately froze. He looked over your body, still wet from your clothes. He looked at your face, and a scarily calm expression was staring back at him.
He immediately felt bad, rushing over and giving you the tightest hug. You couldn’t even hear the string of apologies leave his lips, it all sounded like a jumbled mess in your ears.
Fortunately, you didn’t want to hear it. You gently pushed him off you and walked out of the room, him following after you.
You walked into the still steamy bathroom and took your undergarments off, Changbin decided to sit on the sink and watch as you turned the water on and stepped into the shower.
Some more apologies, but you expertly ignored him. You spent 25 minutes in the shower, trying to calm your nerves. Changbin stayed the whole time, switching between begging for your forgiveness and going silent.
You could hear him sniffling, so you knew he was crying. You hated seeing him cry, but you were too upset to care at the moment.
Once out of the shower, he handed you a towel and you took it without any real acknowledgment.
He walked behind you into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed, head down while you got dressed.
He was still sniffling, but you kept a poker face.
“Baby please talk to me” He begged for the nth time. No answer.
“I’m so sorry. I know I said I wouldn’t work during my break. Please forgive me, I swear this will never happen again”
You rolled your eyes at that one.
“Y/n PLEASE. I know I fucked up, but don’t ignore me, baby. I can’t stand it when you don’t talk to me. Yell or scream if you need to! Just don’t ignore me”
Again, no answer. You walked out of the room and to the kitchen, Changbin still hot on your tail.
He still had his robe on from when he got out of the shower, which made you chuckle a little. In the kitchen, you started to heat some leftovers as your boyfriend stares at you.
After a short while, you were ready to chew him out so you looked up, meeting his eyes.
“Go put some clothes on” You simply said, making him dash to the bedroom. It took him a couple of seconds to throw something on and rush back to the kitchen. By that time, the leftovers were ready and you were fixing two plates.
He watched quietly and muttered a “thank you” when you handed him a plate. You two walked wordlessly to the dining room. You took a seat and he sat across from you, still staring.
You began to eat, but he didn’t. He had lost his appetite. You met his gaze and mocked a confused look, “Not hungry? You must have eaten at the studio”
He sighed, ready to apologize again but you cut him off, “I’m hungry, that walk in the rain left me a little famished.”
“Baby please” He begs.
You giggle bitterly, still stabbing at the food on your plate, “You know, I love how hardworking you are. I love the way you love music. However, if your love for music overshadows your love for me- then this won’t work out”
You take a big bite from your food before setting your fork down. You take your time to chew, swallow, and wipe your mouth with a napkin.
“I’m sorry. You know how I get when I have an idea”
“That’s not a fucking excuse Changbin”
He jumps at your use of his name. You rarely call him by his name, always preferring a pet name.
“You’re right, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone down there, I shouldn’t have forgotten about you”
“You always forget about me when music is involved. Which, I get that this is your career, but damn. I’m always taking a backseat to your career and I try to be understanding but THIS was my last fucking straw”
“Baby don’t say that, please. I swear I’ll do better”
“You said that when you forgot about my work dinner. You said that when you forgot about Valentine’s Day. You’ve said that after every single date night you forgot. I’m sick of this shit Changbin, seriously.”
You stand now, prompting him to do the same. Tears were once again running down his face and were threatening to start to roll down yours.
“I respect that this is your job. I knew what I was getting myself into when we got together. But I have given you a lot of grace, all I ask for is a little of your time. We finally have an extended amount of time together and you PROMISED you wouldn’t work. Not to mention, I didn’t even ask you to do that- YOU made that promise”
He sighs, head hanging in pure disappointment.
“Baby you’re right. I wronged you, and I keep wronging you. But I swear this will never happen again. Not ever. I will never hurt you like this again. I will never make you question our relationship again”
Your tears start to fall now, “I don’t know if I believe you Bin”
His heart sinks when he hears that, mentally kicking himself for making you feel this way.
“Y/N you’re the single best thing to ever happen to me. I love you so much that it’s not fathomable. You’re more important than anything and everything. I’ll give up this fucking career if it means I can spend the rest of my life with you.”
He gets down on his knees in front of you, grabbing your hands and holding them tightly. The look on his face made you want to instantly forgive him and forget everything, but you knew you needed to stand your ground.
This couldn’t happen again.
“One more chance baby. Let me show you how much you mean to me. Let me spend the rest of our lives making sure you know how much I love you.”
You look away, a quiet sob escaping before hesitantly nodding.
“I love you so much,” You say, “So I’ll give you one more chance. But this is your last chance. You’re on thin ice. Please don’t let anything like this happen again”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He says, standing and taking you into his arms.
#skz bang chan#skz changbin#skz felix#skz han#skz hyunjin#skz jeongin#skz lee know#skz seungmin#skz x reader#skz minho#skz angst#skz stay#skz poly x reader#skz smut#skz imagines#skz fanfic#skz scenarios#skz fluff#skz yandere#skz#skz fake texts#stray kids imagine#stray kids angst#stray kids reactions#stray kids fanfiction#stray kids#stray kids smut#stray kids fanfic#stray kids x reader#stray kids scenarios
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Waking Up Too Early
The soothing sound of rain is what woke you from a comfortable sleep and it’s what almost put you back to sleep. Inhaling the clean air deeply, you roll over to snuggle closer to your partner Jake, but you find his eyes watching you carefully. “Well look who finally decided to wake up,” He comments softly, reaching up to run his hand through your hair.
“You weren’t going to tell me that my favorite weather is going on right now? What if I had missed it?” You ask sleepily, faking a hurt expression and pressing a hand to your chest.
“Well, as a wise man once told me ‘We could close the curtains and pretend that there’s no world outside’” Jake counters, pulling you against his warm body.
“How dare you use Jack Johnson against me. Come on, let’s go enjoy this weather.” You pull yourself out of Jake’s protesting arms and the cozy bed, shivering as your feet hit the floor. You quickly stretch out your back, and pull on an oversized hoodie before running down the stairs like a kid on Christmas morning to see how hard it is actually raining outside.
The rain has always been one of your favorite types of weather because of how rarely it happened when you were growing up. Your mom always made a huge deal over any amount of rain, but especially days like this where no sun peeks through the thick dark clouds and the rumble of thunder in the distance reminds people that it’s okay to spend a day at home in their comfy clothes. You would slip on your bright yellow rain boots and your mom would slip on her black and white polka dotted ones and you’d go splash in the biggest puddles you could find, letting yourselves get soaked for hours until your stomachs would remind you that it was time for lunch. Your mom would cook up something warm, usually soup, while you’d change into your fluffiest pajamas in the laundry room, leaving your wet clothes to dry over the clothes line that only really got used for that one purpose. After lunch, it was an afternoon of movies or books and, before you knew it, your dad was home with some sort of treat to commemorate the occasion.
“Jake! Don’t you want to come splash in puddles with me?” You call up the stairs, rooting through your overstuffed coat closet to find the pair of rain boots that your mom got you when you moved out for college. You finally find them and pull them out with a huge grin on your face to find Jake standing just on the other side of the door, shaking his head down at you.
“Anything for you my love,” He says with a sigh, pulling on his Birks and opening the front door. You run out to find yourself in a proper rainstorm and, by the time you turn around to see if Jake was following you, your hair was already soaked and clinging to your face in strips. Letting out a loud laugh as you watch your partner trudge out from the cover of your front porch, you run towards the street where a nice stream of water is heading steadily towards the storm drain. With one last leap off the curb, you land squarely in the middle of the stream, sending a wave of water up your legs and on to the front of Jake’s pants, who had suddenly appeared behind you.
“See, isn’t this fun?” You ask, planting a kiss on his cheek. He wipes the look of shock off of his face and replaces it with a determination that you don’t often see, nodding slowly as he eyes the water surrounding you. He lands on a sizable puddle and then glances back at you before taking a huge jump and splashing your right side.
The next few hours are spent just like this, jumping from puddle to puddle, seeing who can get the bigger splash, muddier splash, who can find the coldest puddle and occasionally running out of the way when one or two cars drive past, changing the topography of puddles for your use. By the end of it all, both of you are shivering and the rain still looks like it is going strong. “How about I make us some brunch and you get warmed up little lady?” Jake suggests, pulling you in for a hug. “You’re shaking like one of those little dogs and I don’t particularly want hypothermia today.”
You take a quick shower to reestablish the feelings in your fingers and toes and then wrap up in the coziest lounge set you can find before relieving Jake from the stove and sending him to do the same. He’s got eggs and sausage in a pan, something sweet in the oven and there’s a bottle of champagne begging to be opened and used for mimosas on the counter and a short twenty minutes later, you’ve got a lovely brunch spread set up on the table as Jake descends, taking a deep breath of the lovely kitchen smells.
“I’m an amazing cook, aren’t I?” He asks boastfully, puffing his chest up slightly as you just sit and laugh.
“I don’t know. Sammy probably still has you beat. And Josh does make a mean sourdough loaf. Oh, don’t even get me started on your mom’s cooking. An-”
“Ok, ok I get it. The Kiszka’s are amazing cooks. But come on, this is pretty great, huh?” He takes a seat next you you and plucks a strawberry out of the bowl you’d placed near where you were sitting and pops it into his mouth.
“You’re pretty great,” You respond, pulling a plate in front of you and loading it up with warm breakfast foods. ‘Now can we eat? I’m starving.”
Unfortunately, a big, beautiful, home cooked breakfast comes along with big, not so beautiful piles of dishes that have to get done before the pancake mix or syrup or egg remains dry on them and are impossible to get off. So, you and Jake crank your favorite classic rock playlist and get to work scrubbing and washing and drying and putting away. It’s a comfortable silence that the two of you work in and whenever your hand happens to brush his as you take a dish to dry or when he puts his hands on your hips to move behind you, the electric shocks that run through your body and get your heart pounding remind you of why you fell in love with him in the first place. He looks so perfect with everything he does, but in these little moments of domesticity, you can really see yourself spending the rest of your life with Jake, growing old and still standing next to each other to do the dishes. You can’t help the smile that warms your cheeks and Jake looks up with a puzzled look on his face. “What?” He asks, your infectious smile growing on his face as well.
“I just love you. That’s all,” You say, putting the last dish in the cupboard and closing the distance between you and Jake to give him a hug. He wraps his arms around you and rests his cheek on the top of your head, both of you with closed eyes, relishing in the warmth and safety of the moment. You pull away slowly and he runs his fingers up and down your back and then takes your hands in his, rubbing circles on the back of your palms. “I love you too.”
Shortly thereafter, you’ve wrapped up in a blanket on your couch with a book in your hands and a steaming cup of tea on the side table behind your head. Jake’s run off for the moment and you’ve become fully immersed in the plot of the latest cheesy thriller you found at a local bookstore. You figured out who the killer was as soon as the main detective described him as new to town but popular with the locals and you’re just waiting to figure out if they'll fall in love before she arrests him. A shadow suddenly comes over the page you’re on and you look up from your cocoon to find Jake standing in front of the couch, looking at the cushion that your legs are resting on.
“Can I help you?” You ask innocently, blinking up at him as a little half smile, your favorite, appears on his face.
“There seems to be something in my spot and I thought it would be kind to ask if you’d move it before I’m forced to squeeze in anyways,” He says gesturing with his guitar. He doesn’t really give you time to respond before lifting your feet anyways, sitting down and replacing them in one fluid movement.
“Sure Jake, go ahead,” You respond as he laughs, shifting around until you’re both comfortable, legs overlapping under the blanket and a calm quiet retakes the house. Jake begins strumming on his guitar, chords that you’ve heard him working on all week, trying to get them in the right order. They’re beautiful and definitely belong together, but he has yet to find how, and he begins humming under his breath to figure it out. He knits his brows together as he misses the chord the first time and then tries again and you watch the gears in his mind whirring; you can tell that he knows he’s close.
Then he finds it. You’re on the second to last page of the chapter and had decided that you would distract Jake by offering a movie or asking to order take out if he didn’t work out the chords by the time you finished reading because he would work for days if you didn’t remind him to take a break, but the melody sings through your ears before you can even finish your sentence. “Jake, that’s it!” You exclaim, a look of pride on your face. He smiles up at you and nods.
“You think so?” He asks, strumming it again and paying close attention to how the notes blend together. “Yeah, I think you’re right, love.” He looks out the window and lets out a soft laugh. “And I think the rain finally stopped.” In the time that you spent tangled together on the couch, not only had the rain stopped, but the sun had set and a cool evening set it. “How about we get some dinner? I’m feeling Thai.”
“That sounds incredible,” You reply, your stomach growling loudly. “But only if you can do it right from this couch. While I put on a cheesy rom-com." You readjust into his arms and he holds you tight while you turn on a favorite of you both. Not a bad way to spend a rainy day.
#gvf fanfiction#flufftober 2023#jake kiszka#greta van fleet#jake kiszka x reader#rainy day#puddles and cuddles oh my!
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Hello! I’ve seen you say a couple times* that there are hints and parallels in the show that could mean they’re going to make Lestat’s rape into vampirism literal, which would be a really interesting adaptation. I’m curious what hints you saw in season one 👀 I have some vague ideas but I’d love to hear your analysis!
*i keep going back to reading your “Monstrous are what monsters be”; it’s incredible
Hey!
Glad you like the fic! It's... been very hard to write, and I bet it will be even worse to watch... :/
So for the hints....
Well, I mean, for one it is good to know (or remember, depending on if you've read it^^), that the turning scene in TVL is written as a rape with forced orgasm.
The show has added sex to it all - and they have added sexual assault.
I know Rolin Jones put his foot into his mouth a bit wrt to Claudia, but... I think there's reasons for it all (and why he did not further elaborate), especially since this show so loves both the parallels and the mirroring.
And if you listen to him in the podcast? It's very clear, imho.
Now, as for the hints etc we already got:
There's tears in Lestat's eyes when he realizes that Claudia has been hurt while she was away. He cannot read her, but he clocks in on it right away. He recognizes.
The sexual assault of Claudia we hear of in and by itself. Unfortunately all too common. It is what ultimately drives her back, and what... ultimately nourishes her hatred of her guardians/parents.
Lestat says to Louis that there is a "darkness in her that wasn't there before", again, a darkness he recognizes.
Armand reacts to Daniel's "save it for the rent boy" comment in a rather telling way, at least if you know that he was sold as a sex slave while mortal (book canonically)
Lestat mentally hunts down and tracks Bruce. Now I know the train scene is hard to stomach in the way it is told, but that detail always stuck out for me. He says Louis did not want him to ask, but he not only knows who did it, he also knows that he has a motorbike and is roaming the american hinterlands. That takes a lot of mind scanning to achieve, and speaks of a lot of empathy for what happened to her - and anger.
The way Lestat talks about his own turning. "He kept me for a week", "fed on me every night", "my eyes, my physique". The show has already extended the horror to a week. Magnus later chooses to look like Lestat (at least in parts), a very fucked-up detail Anne put into the books, he desires Lestat and the way he looks. That mixed up with sexual desire that is fused with the blood? Harrowing.
The show very poignantly made sure Louis would consent to his turning, a change from the books and even the movie. I think that in and by itself is also a direct result from making that literal, the way Lestat was/will be forced. (Btw. another parallel: Claudia did not get to have a choice either, and that is something that she comments on, too.)
The hate sex (aftermath). I have spoken about it, but the aftermath of the hate sex, this very rough sex, and the bruises, and the bites, and the scratches, and the stab wounds... and then the way Lestat holds himself there, and the way Louis looks at him.
They can see things in the blood. Louis knows, more than Claudia does, there.
So all these little things... speak a very clear language, imho.
Also - it is important for the upcoming arcs (with Armand).
Because Lestat was forced.
And Armand will try to force him as well.
Which is why they never really got together.
#Anonymous#asks#ask nalyra#amc iwtv#iwtv#amc interview with the vampire#interview with the vampire amc#iwtv amc#iwtv 2022#interview with the vampire#iwtv meta#vc meta#interview with the vampire meta#lestat de lioncourt#louis de pointe du lac#loustat#armand#magnus#tw rape
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Pregnant
Could you write something where the reader is pregnant and she hides it from Eddie and the only people that know are Robin and Steve but Steve accidentally tells Eddie and Eddie gets all mad and doesn’t talk to her till she is in trouble cause Jason keeps bullying her very angsty at the start but fluff towards the end, please? Requested by @mayahawkeluver
Warnings; Angst to fluff.
Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated ❤ I do not give anyone permission to copy my work.
The morning sickness was the worst. Robin had been there through it all with her and Steve.
It was hard to hide it from both of them when they literally found her throwing up in the bathroom of Family Video, two tests clutched in her hand as she tearfully told them what was happening.
She had just started working with them at Family Video and she would never be able to hide the nausea and sickness.
The person she really wanted to tell though was Eddie and she wasn't sure how to broach the subject.
This would change their life it's not like she could just drop it into a conversation casually.
She loved Eddie and he loved her but this was a massive change to their lives, they were barely out of high school for one thing.
How could she tell him when one of her fears that wouldn't go away was that she would lose him? What if he didn't want the baby? Ended up not wanting her? Left her for someone else?
The worries were piling up and she knew she had to tell Eddie she just wasn't sure how.
❤
Shit shit shit! Steve mutters to himself having just dropped a bombshell on Eddie.
He stares at Eddie horrified and Eddie is trying to come to terms with what Harrington said.
"Y/n is pregnant?". Steve gapes wordlessly because he didn't mean to open his big mouth it just slipped out.
Eddie was asking if y/n was okay as she looked a bit nauseated this morning which Eddie assumed was a stomach bug but was panicking his girl was really unwell.
"Yeah, she's okay. Got bad morning sickness though".
"You knew before me?" Eddie asks him looking hurt and he's still gaping.
"Uh". Eddie pushes past Steve and goes to y/n who has just started working at the counter.
❤
Eddie stalks up to her, he looks pissed and her already tender stomach begins to churn.
"Eddie?". He reaches her and he looks devastated as he stares at her.
"Can you please tell me why I had to find out from Harrington that my girl is pregnant?"
Oh shit. Steve rushes up to them both looking between the two of them.
"I'm so sorry y/n, it just slipped out". She swallows. She can't be mad at him. She should have said something to Eddie sooner.
"I'm so sorry Eddie, I wanted to tell you but I was scared". Agony fills his eyes and he swallows.
"Scared of what? Telling me? Did you really think I'd react that badly? You're my girl and I should have been there for you. You should have told me y/n".
He walks away leaving her extremely tearful and anxiety filing her even more.
"Eddie wait!". He doesn't come back, he just heads into his van and drives off.
❤
Eddie had been quiet the last two days, it was such a huge thing to process so she was trying to give him some time to process it but all she wanted to do was apologise for not saying anything.
Jason wouldn't leave her alone either. Ever since she started working at Family Video he would not leave her alone.
The guy was a bullying asshole and sauntered around like he was the king of the town.
"Aww look it's the freaks girl, where is your weirdo boyfriend huh?". Ignore him just ignore him.
She turns away and he grabs her arm.
"Hey, I'm talking to you bitch. I'm a fucking paying customer. Show me respect". With Robin in the back rooms, she wouldn't be able to hear and her heart was racing.
Her first thought is to protect the baby and instinctively she clutches her stomach and yanks her arm back.
His eyes darken and he swears.
"Why you little bitch". He doesn't get to finish the message as he is yanked away from the counter and is face to face with Eddie who glares at him.
"Get the fuck away from my girl, now Carver". Jason sneers but doesn't look so cocky now and rushes away.
Eddie vaults over the counter and immediately checks her, hands on her belly, pressing tender kisses to her stomach.
"I'm so sorry I didn't say about the pregnancy, I was worried you were going to leave me, she whispers tearfully. I already had those fears worrying about if you left me while pregnant, my anxieties just got the best of me, Eddie, I'm sorry".
He softens.
"I'd never leave you, princess and you're the only girl I will ever want. Ever. You're my soulmate princess and I love you even more and more every day. You are the only woman I will ever want. Ever".
She sobs and he kisses her belly again and stands up holding her close.
"We're gonna be such an amazing little family sweetheart. My princess, me and my little princess". She giggles and wipes her eyes.
"So sure it's a girl, could be a boy". He shakes his head and holds her close.
"Nah, it's a girl. My little princess. Just you wait sweetheart. You'll see. Have me wrapped around her little finger like her mama".
And you know what? Exactly six months later Eddie was right ❤
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Raised on little light - 2003!Joel Miller x F!Reader
Summary: You don't have anywhere to go on Christmas Eve. Much less anyone to celebrate with. A neighbour down the street turns out to be your personal Christmas miracle.
Relationships: Joel Miller xF! Reader
WC: 1500
Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Domestic Violence, Non-Graphic Violence, Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Forehead Kisses, First Kiss, Pre-Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Pre-Cordyceps Outbreak Joel (The Last of Us), Christmas, Christmas Eve, Author needs therapy (and sleep), domestic abuse
Read on AO3
full advent calendar (updated daily)
notes: hello loves. today is another sad one. please read the tags. the abuse is not very detailed but it's there. this fic is very personal to me and (partly) based on how i spent christmas last year. any comments are very appreciated. i'm sending you all all my love <3
also i wanna mention that this has similar tropes to a longer story idea im working on so feel free to let me know if you like the vibes of this and would like to read more :)
title from the song northern attitude by noah kahan and hozier
❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️
for everyone who has spent christmas alone.
The worst part is the shouting.
You can ignore the passive-aggressive snides, mumbles that reach your ears in passing. You can ignore the absence of the feeling of safety. You have even learned to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach when you apply another layer of concealer.
But the shouting seems to follow you. No matter how many rooms you put in between them and you, the sounds crawl through the house, slipping under doors and into hiding nooks that you’ve long outgrown.
It makes you freeze in your tracks, every time it starts. You stand still for a moment, listening, trying to hear what it is about, how bad it seems. There is always the gnawing fear of them running out of words and turning to actions instead. And despite the fact that you’re a grown adult, that you’re technically not the helpless child you once were, it still scares you like nothing else does.
It’s exhausting to exist in a violent house.
You silently let the front door fall shut behind you, stumbling a little as you make your way to the street. Your feet seem to have a mind of their own, carrying you out into the night without a goal in mind. Just get out of the house.
It’s surprisingly cold for Austin and you draw your jacket a little tighter around your shoulders as you move down the sidewalk. The houses on your street are lit up with Christmas lights, stars dangling in windows, colorful fairy lights wrapped around fences, a lit up reindeer figurine a few houses over.
A truck drives by, the engine humming quietly, before it pulls into a driveway two houses ahead of you. When you pass the house with your head down, the sound of a car door opening and slamming shut makes you jump slightly.
The voice that follows doesn’t.
“That you?”
It only takes Joel a few strides until he’s in front of you, brown eyes searching your body for god knows what. There is a brown paper bag in his hand but you don’t dare lift your head higher to look at his face.
“Whatcha doing out here? Escaping the family gathering?” He jokes lamely, remembering the way he used to sneak off during the holidays if it got too overwhelming.
“Something like that,” you mutter back, trying to put on something resembling a smile. Either it doesn’t work or Joel is too smart to be fooled by it. Because he nods softly, bending his back a little to try and get a look at your face, “Can you look at me for a second, darlin’?”
Oh, he’s so not playing fair. He knows exactly what that nickname does to you, especially coming from him. And he’s shamelessly abusing that.
You swallow, hard and lift your head enough for the porch light to hit you. Joel’s face instantly changes. The somewhat cheerful, joking manner he’d been in a second ago is replaced by concern and something else. Something that almost seems like anger.
He drops the bags of groceries to the floor, bringing both hands up to cup your face. He’s mere inches away when he suddenly stills, eyes softening a bit, “Can I?”
You give a small nod and right away, he closes the distance, turning your head a little to get a better look at the black eye that is undoubtedly getting worse by the second. He should get some credit for not flinching away, you think, for not pretending not to see it like everyone else does.
“You put ice on it or anything?” Joel mutters, his gaze flying over the rest of your neck, clearly checking for more injuries. You barely have time to shake your head no before one hand is on your back, steering you back towards the Miller’s house.
“We’ll get you patched up, okay?” Joel asks softly. When he sees your gaze, he adds, “Won’t take long, promise.”
The mood inside the living room could not reflect yours less. There is a bright tree by the window, colorful lights twinkling away. You’re barely inside when you hear footsteps coming down the stairs and you stop in your tracks. Of course Sarah would be home. You’ve gotten to know her rather well this year, after she almost failed Biology last year and when Joel mentioned it in passing, you offered to help out.
You don’t plan on letting her see you like this. She’s smart, like her dad and your afraid that just like him, she’ll know instantly what’s going on.
Joel tugs on your sleeve, motioning for you to stay. Then he turns the corner, catching Sarah at the foot of the stairs before she can reach you. Her voice still carries through to you.
“Did you get the ice cream?” Joel chuckles softly, “I did, dessert is safe. Listen, I gotta- I mean, Santa’s gotta do some last minute preparations. You mind staying in your room for a bit? And no peeking.” The girl grumbles something under her breath but heads back upstairs and a moment later, you hear her door close, a small breath of relief escaping you at that.
Joel's head appears around the corner, “Come on. I’ve got some stuff in the kitchen.”
He pulls out a first aid kit, disinfecting your wound carefully before wrapping a few ice cubes into a towel and dabbing it against your cheek a few times before holding still. The cold immediately seems to work and you involuntarily let out a sigh of relief.
Joel smiles a bit, his hand still pressing the cool sensation against your skin, “That’s better, hm? Just don’t leave it on too long.”
“Yes, sir,” you tease, bringing your own hand up to take the towel from him. There is a small moment, merely a few seconds, when your hand sneaks below his, your skin pressed against him, somehow fitting more perfectly than you ever couldve imagined. It feels even better than the ice.
Joel let go after a moment, taking a step back and turning to the kitchen that is messy with dinner preparations.
“She made you get ice cream?” You ask softly, hoping to steer the conversation into a somewhat pleasurable direction.
“Yeah, yeah, she did. You know how she is,” Joel smiles softly. It doesn’t last long. He clears his throat, glancing down at his feet.
“Listen, I know it ain’t my place. But this is not- it’s not normal. Not even close.”
“It is to them.”
Your voice is quiet. You don’t even want to say it. But something about Joel has always made you open up faster and more intensely than you have with anyone else, “It doesn’t happen that much.”
“Ain’t supposed to happen at all, darlin’,” he argues softly. His eyes fly to the window for a second. There’s a string of lights hung up in it as well. You think there’s not a single one at your house. You were raised on little light.
“We’re making dinner in a bit, Sarah’s pick, and Tommy can’t make it so we are one person short.”
You furrow your brows slightly, wondering for a moment why he is telling you about his dinner plans. But then- it washes over you.
“I couldn’t- I’m sure you have a lovely night planned and-”
“Won’t change if you’re there. It’ll still be a lovely night,” Joel says softly, nudging your foot with his. “Come on, let me- let me do this for you.”
You let him. There is dinner, luckily with no more questions about your slightly swollen face. Joel offers you some wine, lets Sarah pick a movie, pretends to hate that it’s some cheesy Christmas movie. You still catch him smiling at the screen throughout the film.
The teenager falls asleep halfway through and Joel gives you an apologetic look before he carries her to bed. When he comes back and sits down, his hand almost automatically finds your knee. Between the romantic movie and the second glass of wine, the atmosphere between you has changed.
“You know our door is always open, right? Sarah loves having you here.”
“Only Sarah?” You raise a brow, leaning into Joel’s broad form a little more and his eyes soften as he looks down on you, “You’ve had a long day. We shouldn’t add any more to that.”
“What if I want to?” Your face is hovering inches from his. You don’t remember even being this close to him, “Joel, please.”
He can’t resist your begging. He doesn’t think he could if he tried.
Christmas Eve brings you your first kiss with Joel. He runs his hands over your cheeks, always careful to avoid the bruise and even when you pull back to catch your breath, his mouth stays on your face, kissing your chin, your nose, your eyes.
He kisses your forehead an hour later when you’re wrapped into his sheets, after you’ve moaned and then cried immediately afterwards. He holds you through all of it, his voice barely a whisper to not wake Sarah.
“I like having you around too, darlin’.”
notes: thank you for reading. i love you <3
#pedropascaladventcalender#softpascalito#advent calendar#pedro pascal#joel miller#joel / reader#joel x reader#joel miller / reader#joel miller / you#christmas tree#tlou#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#moodboard#mb#sarah miller#christmas#hurt/comfort#emotional hurt/comfort#tw abuse#abusive family#cn abuse#fanfic#fanfiction#oneshot#pedro pascal fanfiction#angst#hurt comfort#abuse#domestic abuse
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being single for almost two years (not counting the gf i had in december, ill address that later) has made me learn a lot about love.
trigger warning - mentions of sa, eating disorders, and self harm
i've learned about how i want to love. how i want to be loved. what compromise is. what communication is. i have learned from the friends that i have made into family that love is not always easy. no one is perfect and no love is perfect.
i've learned what i'm not willing to take from someone. when i asked my ex to be my girlfriend, after months of talking, i drove 45 minutes for our first in person date. she commented on my body and what i ate at dinner. she made me do things when i clearly showed and said outright i didnt want to. we cuddled in my car in the dark parking lot of her hometown shopping mall and, just a few days after i told her i wasnt ready to do more than hug and lay together and hold hands, she pressed into me and told me she had a boner. just a few days after i confided in her about my recent lapse into my old habits of body dysmorphia and hitting the gym too hard and resting too little, she squeezed the fat on my hip and stomach. i learned that i don't have to say yes. that i dont have to pressure myself in my own head to lay and wait when i want to begin the long drive home north on 76 and through the lonely streets of my city square. i learned i dont have to be quiet and wait until i am calm to share my discomfort. i learned how to stand up for myself. i learned how to see the road through the tears.
i learned what is not worth doing because of pain. i learned i dont have to hurt on the outside to validate what's on the inside, to make it real. i learned how to talk to strangers kind enough to ask, with genuine fucking care, "are you okay?" and "what's going on?" i learned that no matter how many scars i have, no matter how stupid and small i feel watching them fade, that my pain has always been real. my pain is more than "big feelings" and "crying it out." i learned that there are people who care about that pain enough to let me sit in it, still and unharmed, for as long as i need, no matter how much they wish they could just make it go away. i learned that high beams dont work in the rain.
i learned that there are good people. not people that are inherently good or above me - people that want to be good. want to do good things for people who ask or need or neither. i learned that sometimes, people just care. there's no transaction in that. no expectation, no "owing you one," no long road of penance for being treated as both fragile and strong, both big and small. i learned the joy in letting someone pass me on the four lane busy streets and seeing the good old midwest wave through the back windshield.
i learned how to give. i learned that everyone else is in pain too. i learned that it is vulnerable in the most exalting of ways to offer up your soul for the family you choose. i learnes how to comfort my friends at college missing their parents two states over or halfway across the country, even if i dread coming home to mine each day. i learned to acknowledge how hard it must be to be someone else. i learned to opem my arms when a friend comes running. i learned how to warn my passenger before we hit a bump, brake fast, gas it hard, or turn sharp.
i learned that even on the shitty days, loving is the best thing for my soul. i learned that no matter how much ive bled or been hit or touched when i didnt ask for it or stared in the mirror for too long, that my skin is worth caressing, my body worth protecting, that i'm still a virgin if i say i am, that the reflection will always be worth smiling at. i learned of mirth. of pain. of how to feel good. that my body is still mine no matter how many people tried to take a piece of it with them and no matter how young and stupid i was when i let them. i learned that love is so much more than a peck on the cheek in the morning or water after sex. i learned when to pull over to breathe.
#queer#queer love#dyke#butch#butch dyke#gay#trans dyke#i learned how to love#jackie rants#life is so beautiful when you let it be#even when youre a queer teen in a red state#there is always hope#theres always the dream of running to maine#theres always the sun and the moon in the same sky at dawn#and there is always someone worth my love#and their love of which im worthy; too#long post
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I'm not the anon you replied to, and can't tell when the original ask was sent, but I'm also thinking about starting T but not in a binary trans man way and would love to hear more about your experiences!
absolutely!!
disclaimer: i haven’t been on T for very long so i can’t give you information i don’t have experience on but i’ll tell ya what i know!
disclaimer #2: this is going to be a very long post. sorry
if you have specific questions please please please DM me or send asks and i’ll answer them :)
-
the good the bad and the ugly:
one of the first things I noticed on T was the way if affected my menstrual cycle. (i’m just going to use those words for it because i can’t think of any better). i have really fucky hormones already, and a super inconsistent period, and after about a month and a half of T i got a period that lasted about 3 weeks. That freaked me out enough that I went off T for like a month, before realizing that i really needed T and got back on. I haven’t had a period since December, though, so we’ll see how that goes later.
thing #2 that I noticed: bottom growth. this and my voice change started at around the same time, so it was a really interesting few weeks while those two were starting out. you will feel it. all the time. like. all the time.
thing 2.5: the voice. this has been such a wonder for me. the first few weeks of voice dropping came sooner than i expected (around 2ish months in) although I had been noticing tiny minuscule changes since around month 1.5. the first real drop for me came February, or month 3, after my month-long pause. in about two weeks, my voice dropped a noticeable amount. it started cracking and my throat started hurting like a motherfucker. my voice has also dropped a bit these past few weeks, so ~ month 6, and people have started commenting on how different my voice is. it’s really great for me- my voice has finally started matching what i thought my voice should sound like.
thing 3: HORNY. i’m so fucking horny. im horny every hour of the day night and in between. i spent a whole day just jacking off and sleeping. you grow a second brain and it’s located in your pants. anything will get you horny.
thing 4: facial hair. hallelujah. i have a mustache now, enough for gas station attendants to call me “young man” and for some guy to ask me if i’m old enough to drive. i’m getting weird little scraggly beard hairs, the stuff about asscrack hair is true, and im getting hair on my stomach and toes????? it’s wonderful. it’s what i’ve waited my whole life for. still waiting for the chest hair, though.
5: fat redistribution. idk what to say about this just that everything is achy and my pants fit different and i know full well i haven’t been changing anything else about my life
6: here’s the sucker punch. sweat. i’m so fucking sweaty and horny all the time. i drove my truck for 15 minutes with the windows down yesterday and sweated through my undershirt. if you don’t have undershirts, get some once you start T. i used to wear the same undershirt for two days in a row (i know it’s gross shut up) and now i can barely wear one for a whole day. get good deodorant. old spice body spray is your friend. sorry
thing 7: emotions. i have a hard time crying now, but i can’t tell if that’s hormones or dehydration. i have your average pubescent mood swings on steroids. my tolerance for bullshit is at an all time low.
things 8-? : social perception
i am a fat butch dyke. i have short hair, a resting mean face, and very brusque hands. i’m very affectionate with people i trust in a way that gets me often labeled (by outsiders) as pushy or desperate. i’ve never been feminine but i’ve put on an affectation of femininity to make myself less threatening. with testosterone that went out the fucking window. people see me the way middle aged church mothers see pitbulls. i got called violent for tossing a shirt into a car with “too much aggression.” people are starting to interact with me the way they would interact with a man. it’s rough, and it’s lonely. but it’s worth it, to me.
i’m having to be more aware of myself in order to not get read as a creep. stuff i would have done when i passed as a girl has become, in a very short time, stuff i absolutely cannot do now that i pass as a weird deformed man. the affectation of femininity has returned in full force, although i’m trying to get rid of it and just talk.
i miss my singing voice.
i have a new singing voice that i love. i’m still surprised when i listen to recordings of myself and they’re not how i expected them.
i’ve found a lot of solace in captain america fanfiction.
i am so dazzlingly happy with my stupid scraggly mustache. i like looking at myself. for a good few weeks i couldn’t stop talking just to hear myself talk.
i need to drink gallons of water now.
people have started defaulting to “he” for me. a stranger let me pet his dog and asked me if i was a “feminus man,” to which i said absolutely.
i’ve become so comfortable in being myself. i can’t wait until i figure out what to do about my tits. i’m slowly getting the upper range of my singing back. i’m having to restrain myself from using vocal fry every three seconds. i go to a barbershop and feel completely out of place, but get a nice haircut. i don’t think i’ve developed the cis man brand of self consciousness yet, and i hope i never do. someone recognized me from high school and i’m glad i’m still the same.
testosterone has made me so connected to the person i thought i was going to grow into as a kid.
on a topic i never got to hear from anyone about:
injecting testosterone.
i chose intramuscular injection for my first T prescription. i went in with almost zero guidance aside from my friend (who offered to do it for me) and my adoptive dad (who told me to close my eyes and jab). i nearly cried the first time.
i kept doing intramuscular until my break, and at that point called the doctor and told her i could not keep doing that. she told me to inject subcutaneous until next appointment. i did. it was a wonder. i now have the specific needles for subcutaneous injection, and am so used to doing it i can even play music during the injection. i used to have to do it in total silence, with the door slightly ajar, and the pamphlet they gave me open in front of me, in case anything went wrong. now it’s easy. i still tell my cis man friends i’m more man than they are for being able to do it.
here’s how i do it, because no one told me how to:
check your T. it should be clear or pale yellow. there should not be granules, chunks, or cloudiness. if there are, call the pharmacy. don’t inject it. if it’s clear and chunk-free, you’re good.
fill the syringe with your dose of hormone. use a thick needle. get the air bubbles out. pull the plunger way down, switch needles, and push the plunger slowly back up to get the air out. you’ll figure it out.
to uncap a needle, you might need a little more force than you expect. i still haven’t figured out how to do this easily.
i inject into my stomach, always, so: i rotate injection sites every week. don’t inject above your navel, and it’s best to inject at least an inch away from it. if you pinch the area you want to inject in you should feel the difference in how pain is experienced. pick a spot where you almost don’t feel it when you pinch yourself. hold the syringe with your thumb on the plunger and your first two fingers on the finger rests. hold it at a 45 degree angle with the needle tip’s open end facing up, so the needle slides in easier. take a deep breath and push the needle in.
it’s easier to go faster just to get the tip in, and after that you can go as gentle and slow as you like.
if you’re like me and your stomach is covered in stretch marks, that’s ok. stretch marks don’t go deep. it might hurt a little to get the needle in, but you will be okay. i promise. you’ll feel the needle hit the fat and slide right in and then you’ll be okay.
some people say to pull up a little to check for blood but i don’t do that and it’s fine. my med student friend said you won’t get internal bleeding or other severe damage from not doing that, and if you do, the big ugly bruise will let you know real quick.
take a deep breath and push the plunger down. if your hand shakes that’s okay and if the needle moves a little that’s okay. just don’t pull the needle out mid-injection.
if you have to test a few spots to see where you want to inject, that’s ok too.
some days will hurt more than others.
it’s okay to have to use more than one needle if you chicken out of the first jab. you usually don’t need a new syringe for this.
don’t pierce the skin with the same needle twice. for sanitary reasons and also because a blunt needle hurts like a motherfucker.
pull the needle out gently and press your finger to the injection site. slap on a bandaid. get the stretchy real bandaid branded bandaids. they’re good.
give yourself a treat! youve probably been a little tense for this. relax.
the injection site might get a little red and a little itchy. it might hurt when you put briefs on. it might hurt when you move or touch it. there might be a tiny little bump where you injected. that’s fine. you will be ok. call a friend if you need.
i hope this all helped! if you want more deets or have questions please let me know :0)
-naf
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!! for the hand in hand starters, how about
∆ HEAL ∆ - sender treats a wound on the receiver’s hand
Hello! ✨
No character stated? Uh.
Let’s do something new, shall we.
And since last prompt was light and very fluff...
Also I honestly don’t know how but in my first DA2 play I triggered Anders’ romance by mistake. I was running after Isabela and suddenly Anders tried to kiss me and I was there bitch what. Of course I kept it.
Tis the prompt list
∆ HEAL ∆ - sender treats a wound on the receiver’s hand
Raina staggered back, bumping her back against the wall -she didn’t want to know what exactly fell when she did, she just felt something splorch under her boot and she prayed it was a patch of snow that hadn’t melted yet. She had no heart to peek down and look, she was better without looking. She fixed on her adversary instead, raising up her fists against her face, spitting on the side as the last of the thugs got close by, blabbering something she didn’t even care to listen to. She was panting, her left thigh hurt if she put her weight on her leg, and as per usual, that spot on her left ribcage had a bruise as well, with two or three others around herself. None on her back, tho, of which she was proud.
So much for her grand return to the Hanged Man after Anders finally declared her stomach healed and her good to go out. He would have probably killed her for running head-first into a brawl after her second beer of the evening, but in the moment she couldn’t care less. Things were finally back to normal, she felt alive again, adrenaline rushing and keeping her active. And she hadn’t even needed to put that much effort in finding the fight. Or well, starting it, but those were details. She loved Kirkwall.
She waited in guard for the last thug to approach her – he was a tall and buff mercenary always so quick in whistling at her and Merrill whenever they came around the tavern, big words, apparently no neck and slow feet, not intelligent enough to guess that if she knocked out his three friends, chances were that she would have done the same with him as well. But oh no, he was the last in town to know exactly who killed the Arishok. Raina wasn’t complaining.
He stepped up, gained speed -as much as he could- and raised his fist, ready to punch her… And she ducked last minute, crouching and slipping just below his fist and leaving it colliding against the wall where her nose was before. How unfortunate. She didn’t lose time, and spun around at once. He just started screaming in pain that she hit him, slapping hard against his right ear to make him lose balance and kicking him in the kidney, from behind, hard with her knee, building momentum by spinning on herself.
He fell on the ground, and she punched his nose -she heard the crack of the bone breaking and ignored the sharp pain in her knuckles as they collided against the skull. He was on the ground, breathing hard and holding his nose with both hands, groaning loudly in gurgling noises, throat full of blood. Raina panted hard, spitting again somewhere and waiting for him to cross her eyes.
“Say one more comment to any girl and I’ll get back to finish the work. Got it, Casanova?”
She smiled at him, leaving clear that she wasn’t joking. He luckily got the message, and nodded, not trying to get up again. Luckily for her, because her hand was throbbing pretty painfully, and she was tired. Too much time in convalescence, and surely there wasn’t anything tugging in her stomach. Nothing at all, uh-uh.
She nodded once, declared it had been a pleasure talking of basic decency with them, and as the group of thugs was raising back from the ground and scampering away scared from her, she entered back the tavern.
Cheers and whistles welcomed her in, and in all answer she curtseyed, as graciously and elegantly as her mother tried to teach her ever since she was a child. She had listened, just refused to do it for the Chantry Mother in Lothering, driving her mother crazy and Garrett laughing under his hand.
Satisfied with herself and feeling a little less cranky than when she entered the tavern, she went straight for the counter, winking at Corff and asking him whatever hard liquor tasted less like piss he had.
She heard someone calling her from behind, but honestly? She didn’t want the company. Not this evening. This evening was for getting in the first fight on the way, no daggers, no weapons, just good old punches and kicks, and getting horribly drunk. She killed the fucking Arishok and suddenly everyone in Hightown liked her, the hypocrites, she had sex with one of her best friends on a whim and said best friend somehow didn’t hate her, was ok with the thing, just told her to settle things up with the other friend she really liked and had sex with and tell her what she decided. And who never came to check on her whilst she healed. Not when she was conscious at least, she’s been told the piratess has been there in the first night, after they got back from the palace. But then? Nothing.
And Raina Hawke was never good at talking about feelings. And feelings, with Bela, were very clearly out of the discussion. So, she would have done the sensible thing anyone in her fucked up position would do. Drown the feelings that shouldn’t be there in… It was clear, it could be whatever spirit brewed in a cellar in Darktown- and get on with her life. Decided what she wanted to do with her life.
Maybe the answer was on the bottom of that glass.
But when she drowned it, all in one gulp, there was none, just her throat burning hot, and her hand hurting really bad. Fantastic, the thugs had hard heads for real. She shook the offending appendage in the air, breathing out the too strong liquor and, finally, assessing the situation. Her knuckles were angry and red, and the blood was hers too, gushing out from a couple of bad cuts across the bones. Right when her fingers bent, and she bent them enough not to let the cut close. Fantastic.
She grunted, rubbing angrily her hand against her jacket -it was dirty anyway- and asking for another drink. Maybe it would have been the right one for an answer.
Isabela, tho, arrived before her drink, casually leaning her back against the counter, right beside her.
“What next, convincing Martin to lower his prices by gnawing at his ears?”
“You know me, I live to serve.”
“A difficult course of action. If Anders entered now and saw you like this, he’d tie you to the bed.”
“He wished.”
She snorted, mirthlessly. Feeling horrible right after for the sarcasm she used. She didn’t know if it was already cool joking on it, or it was too soon after he tried to kiss her and she had to tell him she wasn’t interested. In boys in general. Never been.
Her liquor arrived, giving her at least a distraction. Another shot right down her throat, all of a sudden. It hurt less than the first, her throat probably numbing. The silence felt forced and tense, and she was about to ask for maybe another couple of small drinks, when Bela stopped her, placing a hand on her elbow and pulling a little.
“Come on, Champion, let me see that hand.”
“What for.”
“We wouldn’t want Blondie to throw a fit because you’re undoing all his hard work.”
She laughed, but there was little joy in it, and she refused to look at her in the eyes, carefully looking at a random point on the other side of the room. Raina nodded and followed her, snaking through other adventors and usual faces to climb up the stairs, Isabela leading her to the room she inhabited. It wasn’t the first time, Raina knew what to expect. Few things scattered untidily around with little care, trinkets on surfaces of little value, just to sway thieves so uncareful to go stealing from her, just the bed neatly done.
And what she met was a tidy room, knick-knacks at their usual place, but no clothes, bad romance novels, papers and quills and tools around. An opened sack tossed in a corner, evidently full. So that was it. Raina tried to ignore the sting of knowing she was leaving, didn’t comment in the least to anything she saw. She just politely asked for permission to ender the Captain’s quarters, in a mock salute, and went to sit on the foot of the bed, perching on the border, when she was allowed in. She didn’t take off the jacket, but just focused on her boots as Bela retrieved from her sack the small lacquered box she kept her medicinal tools in. Because a girls must be ready for everything. And brought to the bed the bowl of water from the vanity, with a clean cloth.
She offered her hand when she asked, not saying anything but a nod of her head and letting her work, washing it thoroughly and disinfecting it with a pomade she had for the occasions. It stung, it really stung, and Raina hissed through her teeth, instinctively trying to retract her hand.
“For a person who gets in so many fights, your pain tolerance is incredibly low.” She giggles, and if Raina had wanted to hurt herself more, she could stop and consider that behind her words there was some affection. But, no.
“Why being predictable, after all. Predictability is boring.”
“Exactly, why.”
Silence fell again as Isabela carefully rubbed the pomade on her knuckles, fingers very delicate on hers and pressing a little on the meaty part of her hand, in a proper massage. It shouldn’t have been so intimate, none of them even closed the door. But they’d been there in other situations, none of them had involved luggages ready for departure, and there hadn’t been any “I almost died to save your life” part yet. When she finished, Bela didn’t let go of the hand, taking it in both of hers and placing it on her lap. Raina didn’t turn to look and let her do, stubbornly silent.
“Listen. I’m… I wanted to thank you for what you did. All of it.”
“I should thank you for coming back.”
“Yeah, sure.” She snorted. “You could have done it without me. You and Aveline could have stormed the Keep on your own, add your brother in the mix and neither the ashes would have been left.”
“I… “ I didn’t care enough to do it. Weren’t it for you, I would have left the city to the Qunari. She can’t tell her anything of that sort, tho. “… I don’t think so.” Better. Less pining. Maybe.
She heard sighing from her right, some more fumbling in the box, before something leant on her knuckles. A rapid glance on the side showed clean bandages being wrapped around it. The discourse looked concluded, but if Bela was really leaving, she had to ask. She needed to ask.
“You never came to say hi, ever since the Keep.” There. She couldn’t look at her anymore. “Why so?”
The work on her hand stopped.
“I am sorry. I… I was busy.”
Oh. So it was that. Busy. Well, she could understand it. After all, they had stolen back a relic from a gang of bandits whose boss was still around and knew who did it. And she also had had to organise her journey. Of course. Raina couldn’t reply, too busy, herself, to suppress everything, every nasty, self-deprecating and uncomfortable feeling that was arising in her throat. She wished it was alcohol, but she didn’t drink enough. She swallowed it.
“Well, you missed Anders almost getting along with Fenris, and Merrill playing doctor. It was fun. And Wicked Grace on my bed all together in our nightwear. Nothing much, anyway, we could do it again.” A pause. “Well, not the Anders and Fenris not trying to jump at each other’s throat, that would be difficult to recreate.”
“Merrill told me.”
“About the pyjama party? Yes, that was fun, Garrett and her built a huge pillow fort, Beowoof destroyed running right at it. It was-”
“She told me about you. And her.”
“… Ah.”
She froze, not replying in the least. And what to tell her? Yeah she had been crying and she was cute and I fucked it up but maybe not so much.
“She’s a good one, Hawke she’ll… She’ll be good for you.”
It hurt, honestly. It hurt even more than that luggage ready for departure.
“What about…?”
“We had our fun together. But that was it. Fun, right?”
“Yeah…” No, it was not. Not for her. “It’s been fun.”
She didn’t sound convinced, not even to herself. But, whatever doubts she had is ignored, swept away in that pile of unsaid and unexpressed that’s raising so high this evening. And with that, Bela deemed the bandage done, and patted delicately the back of her hand, satisfied.
“There, good as new. And that’s it.”
“When are you leaving?”
“Tomorrow.”
“I see.”
“It’s… I can’t stay here, Hawke.”
“I understand.”
“Castillon’s men will look for me.”
“Of course.”
“And… I don’t want to drag you in. I already did too much damage to you.”
“I was the one to follow you and not Aveline.”
“It wasn’t Aveline you almost died in a one-on-one combat.”
And, Raina had no words to reply to that. She just slouched forward, propping her elbows on her thighs and crossing her fingers between them, observing with focus a larger crack between two of the planks of the pavement, following the nodes in the woods.
“I- Listen, I’m not good for you. Haven’t been from the start. We both know it. I told you I didn’t want feelings.”
“You did.”
“And, you found another person. It’s gonna be fine. Someone has to think of your own good, while you’re so busy thinking of everyone else’s…”
“It makes sense.”
She felt her eyes burning, and clenched her jaw, hard, not to cry. What had Merrill done to her, that she now cried at every given chance? So many years in carefully avoiding it and now, twice in a week? She hated Kirkwall.
A hand clenched on her shoulder -contracted to the limit shoulder, but the fingers managed to squeeze nonetheless.
“So, goodbye, Hawke. And thank you, really. For everything. I’ll… I’ll leave you here, take your time. It’s the least I can do.”
And with that, Isabela rose up, mattress swaying a little as her weight left it. One step, another, another one as the Captain reached the door, hinges squeaking-
“It doesn’t have to be one over the other.” Raina blurted out, unwillingly. She hated how desperate she looked. But she could care later. “I mean, if you two are ok… It works with both, for me. All three of us. If you’re ok.”
There, out in the open, the forbidden dream she couldn’t even admit with herself. Drooling out of her lips before she can even think about what she was saying. Her heart thumped so loud in her ears, nose pricked as the urge to cry got more and more urgent every second Isabela didn’t speak. But again, she suppressed tears for twenty years. She could resist some more, contracting her fingers on themselves until the knuckles still visible became white. And waiting.
“… Goodbye, Hawke. Thank you.”
And with that, the door closed behind Bela, and Raina was left to herself and her tears, bursting out suddenly and more violently than she would have expected. She didn’t care if she could be heard -the walls of that place were horribly thin- or of whatever. She just slipped to the ground, pressed her face between her thighs, and hugged her knees, crying and crying until she had no more to give.
By all means, all Isabela said made perfect, absolute sense. But this was Kirkwall, and this was her, and nothing in that city or in her life followed rules that made any sense. So, she just dragged herself to her feet, and marched right out of the tavern, straight to home.
There was alcohol that was more reliable, at home, for sure.
#dragon age#dragon age 2#dragon age fic#hawke x isabela#hawkebela#female hawke x isabela#raina hawke#writing petrel
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The Performance
I want to be female.
Or at least
I want to blend in.
So I try to pretend.
But so many things
Shatter the illusion
That I am creating.
.
.
The thoughts spiralling
“As long as I’m what they want
They fuck me
As long as I’m what they want
They love me.”
But for some reason I’m not.
I’m not what they want.
And at first it was only
When I did this thing,
Or looked like that,
Or talked that way,
But now it’s more constant.
An always,
Instead of
A sometimes.
.
.
No one ever compliments me.
On my hair,
On my eyes,
On the body
I loathe to inhabit,
And have actively started to despise
Due to my failed performance.
.
.
I don’t even get that unwanted attention.
I don’t catch the eyes of strangers,
I don’t get felt up while taking the train,
Or feel someone watching me walk past them.
It’s all empty and void,
They all look away.
Like I’m awful,
disgusting,
like I should be ashamed.
.
.
It feels like my body is wrong.
My squared off jaw.
The crooked shape of my brows.
The acne won’t go,
And I pick at my skin.
I keep my hair long
To sustain the performance,
To hope,
And pray,
And believe,
That it makes me look feminine.
.
.
I grow facial hair,
At first just a little
But now it’s a lot.
Faster than my male partner.
And I hid under a mask
On a drive home one day,
Just so he wouldn’t have
To look at my face.
Because of an offhand comment
About facial hair not looking right
On girls.
.
.
I hate the effort
of shaving everything.
But if I don’t it grows back,
And it grows dark.
And I can’t stand to look
At the hair on my arms.
At the hair on my face.
At the hair on my stomach.
At the hair on my chest.
.
.
Sometimes when we have sex
I want to cry,
To scream
In pure terror
And embarrassment.
Because looking at my body,
I don’t see what he sees.
I don’t understand
How my hairy legs aren’t disturbing,
How the fat rolls don’t look
Like they’re so unappealing.
.
.
‘Girl’ clothes don’t fit now,
Since I gained all the weight.
Not that I really wore any
Before anyway.
But now it’s all exercise pants
And branded gaming tees
Hiding my body
To not offend
To please.
But the shapes are all wrong,
So I try to have none at all.
Because it hurts less
When I see my reflection
And my figure is obscured.
.
.
I am caught in bouts of jealousy
Of the attention I garnered
As a young teen
In an underweight body,
Getting felt up by boys,
Being talked to by men.
Because it hasn’t happened once
Since I became an adult.
I get jealous
Jealous!
Of others tales of sexual harassment.
Because at least they are wanted,
Are sexy,
Are performing the gender,
I so desperately want to.
.
.
I see so many others
Performing so much better
Than me.
There’s a guy online,
Who looks more feminine than me.
And it hurts,
That as someone born a woman
I can’t seem to look the part.
And I can see my sister
Performing so much better than me,
So effortlessly,
And it hurts.
They’re performing their gender
The way they feel is correct,
.
.
But I never do it right.
It’s always off,
Always just a little bit wrong.
I had no one to teach me
How to be a girl
The right kind of way.
So I taught myself.
But it seems that the lessons I learned
We’re from drastically different books.
I always looked
So obviously out of place
With all the girls my age.
.
.
No matter how hard I tried
To look like anything at all
I always look wrong.
Like a laughing stock.
The clown at the parade,
Face painted like a fool,
That you point at and bend over
As your sides start hurting.
.
.
I just want to be pretty
I want someone to say it.
I want to feel it every day
I want everyone to see it.
I want to be putting on that performance
And for no one to question
If it’s the right side of the stage.
#poetry#poetry i guess#self poetry#emotional poetry#tattooedechoes poetry#body dysphoria#gender dysphoria
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Onward Through the Upside-Down (Part 3) Eddie Munson x Reader
(I got carried away so the chapter is a bit longer, but it holds well. I wanted there to be a show of love, and hopefully you enjoy it also. My creative process for this was different but as always, feedback and comments are enjoyed and appreciated.
Pairing: Eddie Munson x future!Reader
Word Count: 3.9k
Warnings: Cursing, descriptions of injuries
Part 1// Part 2// Part 3
The drive back to Hawkins had felt surreal. The group had been so caught up with your presence they hadn’t stopped to consider the world around them, decimated and on the precipice of hell. The earth was cracked open, a deep red visible through the broken earth, not likely to ever be truly fixed. You knew the story, though. Hawkins had been at the epicenter of the chaos that was Henry, and while it would be years until it truly spread outwards, the threat of violence was still present, the creatures stirring just below their feet. Nancy had told them all what Henry had shown her, in the future when they had reconvened, and you knew that because it was in the history books. You knew that it had come to pass, and while it had been contained for a little while, it wasn’t permanent. Nothing ever was.
Steve had made the executive decision to bring everyone to his home. After radioing Lucas, the information came through of Max’s current situation and subsequent coma. It was hard not to feel the somber moment, deep within your gut. What felt surreal was knowing what happened next. While you had wanted to tell them that Max would live, that she would spring forward after her months deep in a coma, that she would rally the troops in your own timeline and fight the creatures from the Death Realm, that wasn’t why you were here and it wasn’t time yet for them to know. You hoped that time might never come at all.
The RV parked itself in the driveway, Steve’s own large home not destroyed, “My parents are gone, as usual, so it should be fine,” he almost grumbled, parking in the driveway, careful as he opened the door. He had always felt somewhat hurt when they left him, despite his insistence he was fine. He was alone, though. Alone surrounded by others.
You watched the group rise (or limp, in Dustin’s case) and head towards the exit. Robin looked sad, and broken. Nancy looked as though she might cry, and you supposed you wouldn’t blame her if she decided to. Steve was determined, but even his own spirit felt splintered and cracked, but it was Eddie you noticed most of all. No one really knew his story, not in the way history spoke of its heroes, and so you didn’t really know Eddie all that well. Dustin had held onto the Hellfire Club shirt that had once belonged to the man he idolized, and so you knew he had to be a good person. But he looked wounded.
As the rest filed off, you paused, ahead of Eddie who had unexpectedly taken a protective stance in standing behind you. Turning, Eddie looked at you as you spoke, “You never asked me if you were alive in the future… I would have thought you, of all people, might,” you spoke softly.
Eddie felt himself freeze, considering the implications of such a question. The truth was that he already knew. If you hadn’t come through, if you hadn’t destroyed those… things, he knew he would have died in the Upside Down, “I think we both know why I didn’t ask,” he responded in a tone as quiet as your own.
A soft smile fell onto your lips, one of the first you had felt in a long time, one born of a sort of compassion, understanding, and care, “I’m glad you’re here, now. You’re kind of my hero, if I’m being honest,” you admitted, remembering the tales of the man, woven in times of quiet desperation, when the crew had tried to teach you how to play D&D, not that you totally understood it.
He was surprised, to say the least. A flush fell across his face, unaware that anyone might see him as a hero. His stomach flipped and he felt dizzy briefly, looking at your features. Both of you looked worse for wear, but nothing could stop him from free-falling into your eyes, from feeling so much desire to reach out and hold you. He didn’t know why, nor had you known why you admitted that to him. Eddie was the reason you had agreed to come back, before Nancy had died, before Steve. Before you had reached out to grab Robin’s hand as she fell, watching her slip. You had wanted to be the thing of stories and tales, like Eddie was.
“A hero?” Was all he could manage.
Reaching up, pushing back some hair from his face, you smiled wider, “My hero.”
Turning, you made your way towards the door, hearing Steve, “Hurry up, Terminator!” He grumbled, wanting to get everyone inside and into a safer place than out here, not sure what had followed any of you out.
Stepping off, the adrenaline now wearing off, feeling the cuts and hits, you winced, “Tell me you have a first-aid kit.”
-
Nancy had agreed to take Dustin to the hospital, first and foremost. Much to Steve’s dismay, she had insisted she could go with him and she would be fine. You had watched him, recognizing the fear, and you fought the urge to tell him they’d be fine, and that Dustin would be okay. They couldn’t know the future. It would jeopardize it, wouldn’t it? The implications were yet to be seen, but you knew it was best to steer clear.
Patching up your wounds hadn’t taken long, the cuts superficial, save a larger bite on your ribs that needed deeper cleaning. It hurt. Fuck, it always hurt.
“C’mon in, Eddie. You need to get cleaned up,” you opened the bathroom door of the master suite, the faux ivory counters and white tile floor making it look even larger. The overhead lights were vibrant, though making the grime and blood easier to see, the sink already quite dirty.
He had been sitting on the king-sized bed in Steve’s room, Robin on the other side of it, both quiet as they considered their futures. It felt odd, being in the room now. Such a contrast to the world outside with its cobalt blue rug, not long enough to be shag but very eighties in its look. The wallpaper, a creamy ivory with black patterns, felt out of place. The bed was made, the perfect robin’s egg blue comforter pulled up to the top, now imprinted with the two on the bed.
Steve had been pacing, trying not to get himself worked up as had been listening for anything out of the ordinary. But they all looked up when you peeked your head out.
Eddie rose, wincing, “Got any percs or anything in there?” He was somewhat joking, though a little bit hopeful.
“Don’t you have that shit?” Robin quipped, supposing her reaction could be attributed to stress.
Eddie scowled, “Yeah, let me pop back over to my place real fast, dodge all those fuckin’ things that might be out there, and snag a couple. Be right back,” he drawled out the words, leaning forward a bit as he did.
Steve looked perturbed, “Both of you need to shut up. Eddie, go with…” he paused, realizing he hadn’t asked your name. None of them had. In all the chaos, they had just been giving you other names in their heads. Product of none of this feeling real.
“Y/N,” you popped out, your name falling forward.
Quietly, Eddie pulled himself to the bathroom, closing the heavy wooden door behind him as he sat on the white tub now stained with dirt and blood. Yours, he guessed.
Nodding your head, you began to wash your hands, “Take off your shirt,” you spoke gently, trying to remember that not everyone had the same life experience you did. Not everyone was ready for field-dressing a wound.
Looking up, Eddie eyed you cautiously, you now wearing one of Steve’s t-shirts, a blue t-shirt that read “Hawkins High” on the front. It was a gym shirt, one from his basketball days he hadn’t been able to toss yet. It fit loosely on you, your black pants on your lower half, those not quite as damaged and easier to hide the stains. You looked tired. And in truth, he had wished you were wearing one of his shirts.
But he did as he was told, removing the jean vest, some of the patches ruined, holes in it that he wouldn’t be able to fix, “Damnit. I liked that thing, too,” he grumbled, removing his shirt next.
A flush washed over your face, seeing Eddie without his shirt, though the modesty overtaken by concern as you eyed the wounds, “Shit… they got you good, huh,” you looked at him, opening the medical kit nearby, first grabbing a syringe that you had brought, glad you had decided to bring a couple of the antivirals just in case.
The wounds on Eddie were a good way to distract from his form, the one that wasn’t chisled but that spoke of a man who played guitar, defined arms and squared shoulders, pale skin that was peppered with more tattoos, “What’s that,” he looked at the needle with concern.
You nodded as you kneeled before him gently, taking his hand and pulling it gently out, extending his arm. You felt warm and inviting, and he wasn’t sure how it was possible for someone so absolutely terrifying to be so gentle, “Antivirals. Bites from the Class One Flyers can be deadly if not treated. At least, in my time. Quick pinch and it’ll barely hurt, promise,” you smiled at him, your eyes having softened.
It was a moment that felt like peace, if there ever was something like that in either of your lives, which there hadn’t been. Eddie was being cared for by the same goddess who had saved his life and he had wanted to return the favor so badly that it hurt not to. So he stayed still, watching you as you withdrew the needle and aimed it, not needing a vein for the shot.
Eddie felt the pinch and hissed in his breath through his teeth before he felt you squeeze his hand, “Deep breath, handsome. All done,” you let go of his hand, somewhat regretfully, and smiled as you stood. Capping the needle, you went back to the kit, grabbing some gauze and rubbing alcohol, “Honestly, this is what’ll hurt worse. Do you want me to grab you something to drink?” Of course, you understood the numbing effect alcohol had on a person, and knew that if given the choice, he might not want to be with all his faculties.
But Eddie felt differently, now. He was alive. More than anyone else in the house could say, at present. He had defied the laws of nature by walking around still, and you had decided he would stay that way. So far, there were no real alterations to the timeline that you could tell, the silver band still hooked around your right ear, the thing keeping you safe, “It’s fine. Just… be gentle,” he managed, taking a breath.
And so you were, keeping your heart calm and your hands steady, you took the time needed to clean out the bites that had sunk so deep. In the other room, Steve would be whining about how maybe he needed that, too, but no one helped Steve as he paced back and forth. Your fingers danced deftly over the small cuts and even more gently over the deeper ones. Eddie gripped to the side of the bathtub as the alcohol found its way under your skin, burning adding to the pain that already rippled.
A grunt left his mouth and you glanced up, seeing him in anguish. He wasn’t used to this kind of thing, and you didn’t expect this right away. So you took a chance, deciding that distracting Eddie might be the way to go, “So you play guitar? I heard the stories about how you played Metallica… any Yazoo in there? Some Run D.M.C?” You grinned.
Eddie scoffed a bit, “Don’t tell me you’re one of those girls who listens to Yazoo and Cindi Lauper but knows only a single Metallica song,” he got out. He was in pain, though, and somewhat more unkind than he might have been otherwise.
But you laughed, and your laugh sounded like a holy kind of music as he heard it, and your retort, “I didn’t realize we were gatekeeping music. My apologies. Does this mean that I can’t play any Elvis Presley? Or perhaps some Johnny Cash,” you grinned.
Eddie turned his head a bit, “Like, play them on the stereo, or play them on the guitar?” He was intrigued now. It made sense, in a weird way, that if this true deity had come from the sky, she would also somehow fit this fantasy in his head, his dreams of what he wanted.
You chuckled again, tossing away a few gauze pads that had done their duty, blood and grime covering them as you placed a bandage on his side, “Hard to find acoustic guitars in the future. Maybe you could show me? I mean, once things slow down a bit,” you looked up at him, smiling, a true authentic smile that felt like a beacon in this terrifying new world.
He could only nod his head, feeling himself getting lost as he looked down at you, watching as you began to rise, sitting next to him on the tub to get closer, “I guess. Seems kinda tragic to have a potential musician never get to play because of some asshole,” he grumbled. Of course, referring to Vecna, the man who had taken so many lives. Chrissy, right in front of him. A girl he had thought the world of, who he had felt himself getting protective of. But in an instant, she was gone. And what about you?
You put one leg on the inside of the tub and another on the edge, straddling it to get closer, at his shoulder now, “I just… I remember hearing about how music was so important, and it’s harder now - er, then - to get music. But when I heard Johnny Cash play, I knew that I had to get more of it. My dad grabbed me the cassettes, then CDs once they changed over,” you smiled, aware of the discman in your bag.
Squinting, Eddie tried to look at you, his face so much closer now, “CDs? You telling me secret future things I’m not supposed to know?” He whispered it, playfully. And you liked it, flushing red as he watched you patch him up still, “C’Mon, Y/N, I can keep a secret,” his voice was lower at his last comment, and you paused.
Looking at him, the cotton ball in hand, you felt your breath catch in your throat, watching him as he turned his head. He was smiling, not quite grinning but a look of a man who was going to do something tremendously stupid none the less. His face moved closer to yours, not sure what was possessing him to do it, but regretting nothing as he lept, metaphorically, reaching out to cup your face as he leaned in-
“What’s going on in there? Eddie, are you dying? Cough twice if you’re dying!” Steve banged on the door, loudly, and it was hard not to react with anger for the both of you. In your time, Steve had already grown, considerably. He was protective, and he was your father. Being in a world where he was still becoming the man you knew was a struggle. How could you be mad at him? He feared for his friends. He would die for them.
He did die for them.
“Fine, Harrington. Just making sure I don’t actually die. Turns out those bites aren’t very good for you,” he grumbled out the words, of course a slight attempt at making Steve a little more than wary given his own run in. You finished the last of the scrapes, popping on a final bandage before standing and stepping out of the tub.
You were surprised, suddenly, when Eddie took your hand this time. His fingers were rough and calloused and they felt of someone who had used an instrument as much as they could. But he was gentle as he kept you close to him, standing now so he was looking down at you this time, “Let me stay with you tonight, Y/N. I know what Steve will do, I know he’ll try and break it up and have everyone be all… strategic about it,” he looked at the door, a sort of frustration on his face, “but I want to be near you. You saved my life. I don’t think I can sleep tonight if I’m not there for you, too,” he said.
There it was: Eddie’s attempt at returning the favor. Something more powerful than a favor. Something etched in his soul. He wasn’t the strongest guy in the world, and hours ago he had been prepared to die. But he had watched you clean his wounds, your gentle touch dancing over his torn skin, and he understood the trauma behind your eyes. He had wanted to pull you to him, to promise he understood, but he didn’t. Not really. Eddie supposed his lack of parental love and support, and early introduction to drugs and alcohol didn’t fall on par with whatever abuses you had been served by an unforgiving world. More reason for the man to want to save you, though. A princess in a tower and a queen brandishing a sword and shield. He didn’t care, he wanted to be there.
You life had been spent saving others, and even when Eleven had found you that day your silver ear piece slipped off and Henry demanding entrance to your mind, you had been the one to save her as well. Squeezing Eddie’s hand, you smiled, “Yeah… I’d like that.”
It was again hard not to explain that you knew Steve well enough to know how he thought, and that even now he wanted to keep everyone safe. You were the one unknown, but you hoped that through helping, you could earn their trust. And indeed, as Steve paced, he considered the feelings he was experiencing. The trauma at the possible loss of Max, at the loss of Hawkins, the fear of what came next. He didn’t know where Mike, Will, and Jonathan were. He wondered what it would be like when they all came back, if he held a place in Nancy’s heart. But he wondered, out of everything, why he trusted you so deeply. New to this world but having proven your worth in spades, he supposed it made sense. He trusted so few these days.
-
It had happened just as Eddie predicted, Steve trying to space everyone apart. But after some convincing and Robin saying she still felt weird sharing a bedroom with you, her cautious nature more advanced for absolutely understandable reasons. You had wondered if there was a way to ask if she had met aunt Vickie yet, the two married for as long as you had been alive, but there was no subtle way to ask.
You were laying on the bed in Steve’s parents’ bedroom, the one you’d been in for some time now, since cleaning Eddie. You had been sure to give Steve the antiviral shot as well, who had been surprised at your gentle nature. He had begrudgingly agreed to let you and Eddie share the room, but made Eddie swear to scream if anything happened. He promised Steve would be the first to know.
You had been laying flat on your back, Eddie on the floor with a bunch of pillows and a blanket, too much of a gentleman to consider sharing the bed. The small, silver lamp with a white shade by the bed gently illuminated the space between the two of you, Eddie looking up, “You think you’ll be able to sleep?”
Considering the question, you sighed and shook your head, “I’ve never been very good at it. I was- I was raised in uhm- a facility, about an hour outside of Moscow. I learned there to always be on my guard, and not much changed when I came to America,” you spoke gently.
There didn’t seem to be harm in talking to Eddie, in sharing your life with him. He didn’t belong here any more than you did, and you supposed there wasn’t much to corrupt with his own timeline. He turned his head, keeping an eye on you as he reached up, reaching out to take your hand.
The action made you smile, shifting so you were on your side, still holding his hand, “It’s weird to think I haven’t even been born yet, though,” you blinked, looking down at the man who had also changed his clothes, Steve Harrington regretting giving up his closet.
“How old were you when you moved?” Eddie didn’t know the details of your life, and had assumed as one might that you had moved.
Not wanting to dwell, you sighed softly, “I was rescued by the US government when I was twelve. My father took me in. But I- I don’t think I’ve slept soundly in a long time. My world is so different, Eddie. You can’t know-”
He sensed the tears before they could fall, and immediately he squeezed your hand, “Well, you’re here now. Livin’ large in 86, a punk-rock princess if there ever was one,” he grinned, giving you such a stupid look you could only laugh.
Leaning in, smiling, you spoke again, feeling the sleep Eddie had spoken of beginning to rest itself inside your mind, “Do you want to listen to Metallica’s ‘88 album tomorrow? You have to promise not to tell anyone,” you smiled sleepily.
His eyes were wide as he held your hand still, trying to hold back the excitement, “I told you… my punk-rock princess,” he mused.
Sleep began to take you over, however, but you kept holding on to Eddie’s hand. You imagined him snuggled up next to you, perhaps holding you. You imagined watching him play guitar in a room of your own somewhere, glancing up every few strums or so. As sleep washed over and took you begrudgingly down with it, you imagined Eddie whispering to you how grateful he was to have you in his life, even if it was only to save him briefly. You heard him whisper a prayer for you to be real, and there when he woke up. You wondered if it would be smart to whisper the same, but the thought was gone, and you were asleep.
#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fic#stranger things#stranger things imagine#stranger things reader insert#eddie munson#eddie munson fic#eddie munson reader insert#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson imagine#imagine eddie munson#imagine stranger things
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The Rebound.
Summary; Y/n is Eddie's rebound from Chrissy and she's falling in love with him. He could never love her back though... Right?
Warnings; Angst with a happy ending, it's cheesy as fuck 😁 💖 Some mentions of smut, 18+
Likes, comments and reblogs are always welcome ❤ I do not give anyone permission to copy my work 💫💞
She knew from the minute that this thing with Eddie started that there was a possibility that she could have her heart broken.
The first time they had sex was after Hellfire and everyone had left. He was heartbroken about Chrissy rejecting him after they had only been dating a month and she was desperate to comfort him.
She had gone to his trailer to comfort him with a veg out on junk food and horror movies.
His head rests on her shoulder and he looks so broken that it hurts her heart.
"I don't know I ever thought I could be enough for her, town freak. Satanist, he spits out bitterly, of course, she ran the other way and went back to Jason". She scowls hating Chrissy in that moment.
Gently she wipes his tears away. "No, stop that. You're kind and sweet, loyal and an amazing man Ed's". She kisses over his cheeks and his head turns meeting her lips.
Sparks crackle between them and she pulls away embarrassed because it feels so good but he's hurting and he doesn't know what he's thinking.
"Eddie I'm sorry". He stares at her stunned then kisses her back.
"Don't fucking stop you taste so damn good baby". She leans in kissing him again and they stumble to his room.
It's a frenzy of tearing clothes and kisses, touches everywhere. They were naked within minutes and his body against hers felt like heaven.
Their first time together was frenzied and passionate and he made her cum so many times she lost count.
She loved driving him wild, teasing him and it was honestly the most mindblowing night of her life.
When they woke in the morning Eddie's arms were wrapped around her. The room was a mess and their clothes were thrown around everywhere.
She sits up the sheet pooling around her and Eddies eyes slowly open, he stretches and blinks looking as stunned as she was.
"Shit. Eddie we..." He nods but looks like he's barely paying attention. "Eddie can you focus right now?". He drags his eyes away from her body and she's flushed with confusion and raging desire to kiss him again.
He's laying there with his curls even messier, the sheet barely covering his body and her eyes trail over his tattoos and to his happy trail.
Fuck. He smirks noticing her reaction and moves the sheet away so he's fully naked.
"We really should talk Eddie". He pulls her onto his lap and lets the sheet covering her fall.
"Jesus". He licks his lips and his hands caress her breasts, lips moving to her neck. "Talk later. Need to be inside you right now princess". He grunts and she stops worrying and just enjoys the moment.
💖
Since then they couldn't keep their hands off each other, they snuck around and Eddie took her anywhere and everywhere.
Even though it was just sex she grew attached to him very quickly and began to fall for him.
They did have a lot of sex but also just spent time together hanging out, watching movies, listening to music.
She really began to fall for him hard during that time but she knew he still missed Chrissy.
She could see it in the longing looks he gave her at school. The first time she spoke to him again he was ecstatic.
"Hey, baby did I tell you what happened earlier?". She stops kissing his neck and smiles, he looks so happy.
Only one thing made him that happy.
"What?". He kisses her hair and his eyes light up. "Chrissy spoke to me today and you know if we keep speaking then she might realise her mistake with going back to Jason and want me back".
Anxiety fills her stomach and she avoids Eddie's eyes plastering a big fake smile on her face. "That's great"
Eddie frowns and nudges her gently and she shifts moving from his knee.
"You okay sweetheart?"
"Yes yes". She lies through her teeth but feels a little emboldened to speak her mind. "It's just Chrissy doesn't deserve you. If she can't see how amazing you are then she's an idiot".
He stares at her for one loaded moment and pulls her back in his arms. "You really mean that baby?". She nods and he kisses her.
She wishes he could see himself the way she saw him. The way she adored him.
💞
Slowly mentions of Chrissy begin to get less and less. The longing glimpses he would throw Chrissy's way began to disappear too.
Tonight she was with Eddie and she should have been heading home but he was insistent she stay.
"Eddie I can't find my panties". She groans and he mocks and sighs. "Oh, how terrible sweetheart looks like you are going to have to stay here after all". She rolls her eyes amused.
"It's freezing out and stormy princess don't want you getting sick. You can stay here wearing my Hellfire shirt and I'll keep you safe and warm".
How can she say no to those puppy eyes and that smile? She relents not really wanting to head out into the rain anyway and snuggles back up beside him.
💖
She always knew from the instant that she got together with Eddie that heartbreak could be inevitable.
It's like she was prepared so much for that possibility that she didn't even consider the other possibility.
The fact he could fall in love with her too.
"Eddie?"
His arms wrap around her and he rests his head on top of hers. "What is it, sweetheart?"
"I saw Chrissy today. She looked really happy with Jason and I just wanted to check in and make sure you're okay" He nods.
"I really, really am okay sweetheart. You helped with that and made me see that I deserved better. That it should have been you and me all along".
Oh my god, this is happening she thinks as the excitement grows inside her but she's still a bit nervous it's all too good to be true.
"Eddie, I know that I'm just a rebound for Chrissy. Please don't say things like that because I know you wouldn't be saying them if Chrissy wanted you back".
He strokes her cheek and looks deeply into her eyes his brown ones shining with warmth.
"No, fuck I'm over Chrissy have been for a while. I'm not pining over Chrissy anymore because my dream girl is right with me and doesn't get how fucking madly in love I am with her and wish I'd seen that sooner".
He kisses her tenderly and pulls back just for a second. "Im in love with you sweetheart".
The doubts and fears fall away and she lets herself be swept up in his love.
"I love you too Ed's". He grins and presses butterfly kisses all over her cheeks and lups.
"You and me princess, forever sounds totally metal right?" Yeah. Absolutely.
💖
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A Scar and its Story
Pairing: Thorin x Tessa (Modern OC)
Words: 1,836
Ratings: Teen & Up
Warnings: (TW: for descriptions of face scarring, just in case)
Summary: She could only liken this feeling to a few things: and not many of those were things any soul here in Middle Earth could understand. Anyone who’s ever been in a car accident has trouble getting behind the wheel for the first few times, right? ‘Well, anyone except for Thorin if he knew how to drive. He’s not scared of anything.'
This line of thinking got Tessa through watching each of her Dwarven friends heal. But the whiplash, the pains the mind and body remembers, and especially its scars… those seemed hard for her to forget-- even as she looks at Thorin's face and its new story to tell.
A/N: As if Thorin could ever be anything but beautiful in her eyes... Tessa still worries over the scar Thorin has- and what it reminds her of. Set after the events of 'Better Angels' if you've not yet checked it out! Not required, but fun to enjoy sequentially. Thank you for the likes and comments for my OC already! Tessa and Thorin send their love~
Read on AO3
Tessa really tries not to, but her eye drifts to the scar on Thorin’s forehead.
Following Dwalin to the infirmary she'd gone pale and showed a worried eye in front of the healers that she couldn't hide in time. Based on how bloody it had been– seeing the King unconscious when she first gone to see him after the Battle- the worry from all sides was understandable. Everyone was concerned for him, chiefly his nephews. Though in her mind, the sight of all of her dearest friends in pain hurt Tessa for far longer than the few weeks for their war wounds to settle into scars.
It's hard not to remember that day; even as lovely as it was to be honest about her feelings for him... Things were still fragile, tender, and it was growing into something more each day. Thorin carried on so beautifully; regally, and in perfect stride once he could walk again.
And she’s never said a word on it; perhaps to her detriment. Maybe that's why it's still hard to speak of it.
The only time Thorin himself mentioned looking this way in recovery was when he assured her,
'Dwarves wear their scars as leopards their spots. I was bound to earn some of my own, one day.'
Thorin does say it like a thing of pride. When others hearken to it, their joshing praises gives him a devilish quirk of his now split brow, knowing it as a loud and proud claim ‘he won’.
…but that very fact is what flitters around– unsettled in her stomach. For Tessa? She knows it as a sign of just how close she was to losing him . Time and some emotional distance away from the Battle brought her to push those thoughts far from her mind for a while.
But that changed today.
"Have I misplaced soot on my face?" Thorin asks, bemused.
Thorin caught her staring and she was nearly too shy to admit it,
"Oh, no!" Tessa gently brushes his coat lapel back, along with his hair in a corralling gesture. "It's just--"
Tessa stopped herself, and lied.
"-- I'm just happy to see you."
To see you. To be seeing you, everyday.
A month ago, that hope of seeing Thorin Oakenshield alive and well had been stamped to near-embers.
"It's my joy to see you, too~" Thorin takes her hand to kiss it; yet she avoids looking while he does so. "... Though, I think that look in your eye is far from joyful."
A guilty pang caused Tessa to force a smile onto her face,
"Gosh.. I didn't mean to worry you."
In a moment, she turns self conscious which Thorin reads, too– he clue? She stopped walking.
Thorin is seeking some sort of answer as he watches for her next words. The way he looks at her so intently– fishing for some reason why she’s hedging away from him when she’s done nothing but look for a way to stick by his side over the past weeks, relearning the Mountain together…
Tessa knows this change of character must look odd to someone like him. She hated this feeling.
Thorin noticed her flit a glance to the hall behind him; with a tip of his head to block her view, he redirects in her line of sight. Right back to him.
"We have time, Sanâzyun.” Thorin eases with those happy high brows, “What troubles you?"
Honesty it is …
Steeling her nerve and pulling up all the calm she can offer, Tessa squared up to Thorin for closeness. Confident enough they weren’t going to have an audience around… she braved the chance and held onto his hand.
"Everyone sees this as a warning:” Tessa combed back Thorin’s part with a few fingers; only light enough for a quick touch, “-A less-than-gentle reminder, should anyone dare try to test a king so great as you. As they should, obviously . No matter who you ask, the sight of a new scar is the same; they see it as a badge of honor.”
Tessa swallowed her hidden truth, thick in her mouth.
“But…I catch it in the light sometimes, too. And I'm afraid I don’t see it that way. All I can see is… well… how close I was to never–"
See you again – Tessa buries the thought, burns it. That’s certainly something she can't say out loud without crying.
"--It's my saving grace," she recovers gently, "-whenever I look at you. I remember that shit-show of a day, and that, to see you with it now means we got to the other side. But it doesn’t really– I don’t know–” Tessa floundered, “I know that should be a good thing- is a good thing! I should just celebrate it with everyone else! Hindsight 'should' give us comfort, right?...
Thorin glanced to their joined hands, then back up to Tessa with a look- between confusion and pity and that look of desperation when he tried to follow along with her rabbit trails.
Tessa could only liken this feeling to a few things: and not many of those were things anyone in Middle Earth could understand. Anyone who’s ever been in a car accident has trouble getting behind the wheel for the first few times, right? ‘Well, anyone except for Thorin if he knew how to drive. He’s not scared of anything,’ Tessa thought.
Knowing the analogy would be fruitless, Tessa just shook her head, sighing her own insecurity away.
"After all the time y’all spent getting here, it was hard seeing you like that, after fighting. Close calls scare me, Thorin. Especially when it comes to you."
" My… ” Thorin ponders this. “The mark– it pains you?
Tessa’s lip quirks. Not necessarily, but what she does feel strikes a chord of longing.
"Pain's a strong word.” Tessa confides, “--but, close enough."
No one was in earshot, but still she glanced about for any prying eyes.
His face is deadly serious, likely feeling he missed something gravely important.
"I did not know you felt this way..."
"Because it's silly! And selfish– so of course, I never brought it up."
Thorin’s hand tightened on hers,
"You are not selfish."
"I mean over voicing any fussing over it.” A hand refreshed her own part while she kept her pm interlocked with his, “I figured saying anything comes off as vain, which isn't my issue at all with it. Yours is the one opinion who matters, not mine.”
'Its not like you could ever be less beautiful to me…'
Despite her fighting it against the memories of a bleeding and gashed Thorin, mist flooded Tessa’s eyes– even through her light laugh.
Thorin called her by name, “Look at me, please.”
She sniffs back and meets his eyes again. Squared up to her again, Thorin came to hold her hands in both of his.
“You know I don’t give a single care what I may look like…” The dwarf shared with low comfort in his voice, as he confided to her just the same as he would a dear friend, “Even if I were left completely marred after The Ice, I would do nothing but speak of it; and show my grateful heart to anyone who will hear, for my second chance to live . Truly live. To lead the dwarrow who saw me through the darkness I faced to a better life. And be happy I’m alive at all…”
But as he continued to reason with what she just told him, Thorin processed her different, caring point of view,
“You say you are glad enough for this, and– for that I’m touched, but please know...the scar I carry means more to my people than just a reminder of a foul fight. And even more to me.”
Thorin brushes her eyes of the emotion at bay, watching her settle into a look transfixed on him.
"Not a day passes... that I don't thank Mahal for honoring my wish on Ravenhill."
Tessa couldn't trust her voice’s watery delivery, but had to ask…
"What wish was that?"
"To live past the morning light. So that I may tell those I care for, the things I'd not said before..."
"And what things are those?"
And with the unspoken circling the air between them -under the staggered placement of blue-flaming lanterns of the upper thoroughfare they stood upon, Thorin cups Tessa’s cheek– and draws her into a hug speaking directly to her ear.
"That you are not selfish , Tessa. You've not the bone in your body. "
In turn, Tessa squeezes into his arms, and sinks.
Away from Thorin's gaze in the nest of his hair, the most fanciful of thoughts screamed in Tessa's mind, begging to be let out. To sort them out, she simply closed her eyes.
Perhaps it was the cheesiest, romantic thing she'd ever thought to say, but something told her the men of this world wouldn't mind. Middle Earth is a place of the greatest folklore, but surely they had their own children's stories, too. And perhaps they didn't glorify these small marks as the testaments of their greatness, but maybe to show just how much he means to her, Tessa can try her hardest to relate to Erebor's people– to tell of the pride she has in her King...
"Thorin?"
"Yes."
Tessa swallowed her nerve,
"You-- know you're the stuff of fairy tales, right? You have to know that."
Thorin remained quiet- maybe puzzled more than anything. Inside, the tremor in Tessa’s chest was only stilled by the fact her dwarf still held her close. His head had turned, perhaps waiting for her to explain.
So, still locked in Thorin’s arms, Tessa turned in and released her guts to him: wedged by that soft point next to his ear, careful of her volume.
"Balin said," Tessa had to smile, "the stories are already going around about you: 'only a matter of time before it's set to song', like all the famous living legends are. I know you'll probably hate me saying this... but I do agree with him.
"I grew up with fairy tales too, dozens upon dozens of them– I haven't even told you them all, yet... But I think yours is the greatest one I've ever heard.”
At her words, Thorin’s paused the sway he'd set them in. Surprised, to the point of heartache.
Tessa smirked, and threw light into her voice before she could risk looking him in the eye:
“N'who gets to say they've seen their hero save the day with their own eyes?" Tessa buried a bit into his hair, " Much less get the greatest hugs they've ever had in their life from them…"
A huff of something sweet and shy passed Tessa’s sapphire-stitched shoulder, then she heard the King’s voice just as gentle turn to talk into her ear,
"Your victor, am I?"
A short, affirmative hum.
"The Mountain's.. or truly yours?"
The massive smith’s hand came to curl her waist into him; but Tessa answered fairly,
"I guess I do have to share you ..."
Thorin's answer, practically purred by her ear, " No, you don't ."
Tessa smiled… but one that mellowed when she felt his lips caress her temple, at the same part where he himself now bore a split in the skin,
"As it happens,” Thorin teased beside her, “-you are mine, as well ."
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