#pairing: opposite ends of the battery | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kalims · 1 month

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pop !

giving them a balloon with a confession in it and running away,

premise. out of confession ideas? sick of the pile of stupid papers crumpled up on the leg of your desk? or perhaps you're just in the 'you only live life once' mindset. since the school year is ending, why not get rid of the annoying feeling of him tingling your mind? (in the form of a balloon, you never said you were gonna stick around!)

characters. all sorted by dorm

content. mc runs away after giving it, based on a tiktok I stumbled across approximately a year ago... mentions of marriage (one sign and some were speeding through the future)

note. savanaclaws part hmmm yummy

heartslabyul

unsurprisingly, riddle gets a lot of bizarre things from students and professors alike. confessions are one thing but having one in this... circular, red, full of helium balloon is certainly a surprise. creative, he'll give them that. if anything he's just confused with it in his arms as you just sort of, shove it in his arms and run away. he recognizes you easily but once cater plucks it out of his grip and shows him the message he just turns red.

trey is the type of guy to accept whatever you give him, honestly. it doesn't matter if you give him the most random of items, he'll take it without a single word of query (unless it's really questionable.) you could hand him a bottle of mustard in class, trey'll just blink and hold onto it patiently. a pair of batteries? thanks he guesses. a red, inflated balloon? he spares you a questioning glance but you're already collecting dust with how fast you ran away so he turns it and resists a smile. clearly spotting the bold letters.

the opposite of clover, cater just doesn't take anything from you unless it piques his interest or is just a casual 'hold onto this for a few' like water or something. things bordering past unusual is what he'd hesitate to take, though less given he trusts you. sometimes he doesn't take it all together simply cause he doesn't feel like it. caters probably updated on everything so when you shove the balloon in his arms and beeline he's pulling out his phone ready to scream his ass off in his dump account. (also gotta magicam this, duh.)

will most likely just dump it on the ground without another thought. or hand it back to you. ace does not care about balloons, he might even pop it in your face. that is, if you stayed for more than a second. he feels more inclined to peer further cause you ran away so fast. you looked embarrassed, and he finds out quickly why you'd proceed to never show up to his face for the following week when he spots it. stares at it dumbly for like, a minute before taking off after you... be scared ig.

added to the top ten best moments of his life note on his phone. deuce silently highlights your name on it with the same angry, red bump on his forehead because he accidentally ran into a pole midst trying to find you around the campus. he had the same idea as ace (twins) which is finding you immediately except once he read the confession he promptly lost all his braincells in the process. so he's very excited, slash embarrassed, slash shy? and can't conjure any logic cause it's just your face.

savanaclaw

jokes on you. you think he's gonna make an effort to catch your stupid balloon? leona just watches it drop to the floor. the effort is only exerted when he's absolutely sure you've run away on your slow legs, he's not bashful—not at all. maybe that's just denial speaking though. he takes one look at the balloon, and pops it with a single dig of his nail. the stare is so brief that you'd doubt if he ever read it at all, when the evidence of your apparent love is now non-existent in the physical world, very much still lingering inside him. leona comes to the predicament that he can't seem to sleep days after.

ruggie is all too familiar with the lack of appreciation some folks hold towards cheaper material gifts. like a luxury jewel, a big, shiny lil' thing ultimately rotting in the closet of some soul cause its the 'price' that counts. he spots the words easily, discerning the black ink. not entirely formed with straight lines, the keen eyes of his spots the wriggles some hold. as though whoever wrote was nervous and he bores an impish grin. (and some back corner of his closet holds no big, pricey jewel, but the deflated balloon is worth all the more to him.)

more likely to leave it on accident. after falling victim to the annoying pranks his other first year 'friends' like to do, with him as the victim apparently. he's more suspicious of it than anything, jack does not want a face full of whipped cream once again. he stares at it like it's an alien and only goes for the initiative to take it into his hands when it rolls and showcases the very bold text, highlighted and straight to the point. jack inevitably ends up accidentally popping it due to the fear that some other person probably saw it, he did not mean to wreck it. atleast not with a messy chain of thoughts, but hey. atleast he got the message...

octavinelle

well versed in catching you in a gentle manner, if you ever slipped (he definitely did not practice.) so azul's reflexes respond quick enough to capture the red little thing with ease. he recognizes it as one of your antics, and he rarely doesn't humor them since it was harmless ones that don't really get under his skin, unlike that of the tweels... the curiosity of looking forward to whatever you had far outweighed any annoyance, and great sevens he might actually combust. ("JADE PREPARE THE LOUNGE—") <- absolutely ready to initiate the plans he had detailed through a script ages ago if this were to ever happen, with a red face. ha, ha.

either clueless, or already got an idea based entirely on the adorably stiff look on your face. jade easily puts two and two together, it's quite funny because he picks it up and doesn't spare a single look. stalking off to find you immediately, and only then does he take a peek as to whatever made the balloon special, right in front of you cause apparently he's gotta witness your raw embarrassment in the flesh?

floyd is likely not interested in the ball in the first place, he thinks you want to play catch so he runs after you with a laugh that... makes you a lot more concerned. he flings it uselessly to the face of some poor soul before he sprint after you, probably traumatizing them when they spot the 'I like you' on it, and when they realize they got it from the resident terrorist whose definition of 'I like you' is 'you're entertaining, I'm gonna keep on playing with you'. (only blinks when you tell him about it, seeing as he isn't close to releasing you anytime soon from his arms.) caught you!

scarabia

sparkles, around the sun... too bright... kalim's blinding everyone else with his obvious joy. almost immediately turns it and it's clear he saw something he really liked cause he has one of those grins, really wide, showing off his teeth and his face scrunches up to the point where you could barely spot the red irises of his eyes. his lips are wobbly too! and he thought the notion was simply too cute... (so much he just had to send it back, so you could feel what he felt too!) except it comes in a hundred times balloons inside your home.

really confused. is this supposed to be a new form of comfort in the era that he hasn't caught up with yet? jamil does nothing much to stop you from running away, yeah. that's your choice but it did strike an inkling of suspicion in him. with the way you aggressively shoved the balloon in his arms before you ran away makes him think it's contents are supposed to be for him only. seeing as you collected dust with that sprint, so he brings it home. and damn, thank god he did because seven forbid if anyone else actually saw the flicker of bashfullness in his expression, hopefully not his warming ears either.

pomefiore

you try to fool him by not rushing up to him, shoving it and then speeding away for once. but instead calmly placing it in his arms and then walking away like it might be the last time yall have a friendship haha (👀) vil sees right through you either way. dare I say he thinks the whole execution is strange, he means, you could literally just walk up to him and say the exact same thing written on the balloon and he would've loved it either way but eh, atleast you got it out!

don't walk into his room cause you will probably the very prominent place the balloon has in his room. rook surprisingly did not put it on a pedestal which is tame for his nature, but it does have a place in the corner of stuff he absolutely adores. you'd think you'd spared yourself from the embarrassment of seeing his reaction cause c'mon, that was a confession. it's nerve-wracking! but NO cause you spy him outside the window of your class and suffer a heart attack (3rd floor btw)

wherever he read that, epel's jaw drops. people would mistake him as someone who escaped from a mental asylum from the way he's gaping at a balloon like he just got told vil schoenheit got canceled on magicam for some controversy (he in fact, did not.) spends so much time staring at it, and the following where he's managed to snap out of it is spent also staring off into the distance *wedding bells ringing*

ignihyde

uuuuhhhhh... either send it to him digitally or shove it inside his room and dip?? if we're going with the latter, idia doesn't even notice until like, a day after cause he's been playing for. and it isn't even him who notices!! it's ortho!!! even if he did find it he would've ignored it, but behold, ortho, who reads the text in a hilariously flat tone. idia thought his brother was professing his love until the boy reveals it was from you. (nearly falls off the chair, then actually falls when he realizes it's been a day. imagine getting ghosted irl haha)

ortho could be the delivery boy if you're too embarrassed lmao. will help you in constructing a more poetic way with words but honestly the "YOU'RE CUTE LETS DATE" gets it done. boy probably doesn't understand why you don't wanna do it yourself, and records the entire thing, reaction of the person? forwarded to you until he leaves. but now you're suffering through wanting to watch, and not because you're too pussy to actually do it.

diasomnia

what... malleus is the equivalent of '???' like he's seen a few of these unique, forms but he never got the purpose of them. so he assumes it's like, some nice gift of human traditions question mark. so he appreciates it either way, he looks content honestly which is funny cause the terrifying wizard looks kinda silly holding that balloon like it's a child. actually you should've just gave him a blank balloon cause once he spots the confession, oh honey. are you fine with early marriage?

if you can't find lilia might as well yeet the balloon in the ceiling. chances are, he's there and he's gonna catch it. there's already a cheeky smile quirking up the ends of his lips, usually he'd have some sort of retaliation on the personal attack you inflicted on his heart but oh dear, it's strangely blank. he's humming, the round thing upside down as he rubs his chin in contemplation. everyone's just scared at the echoing giggles of the already dark hallway.

an attack? AN ATTACK! unlike lilia who knows how to use the figurative words youth joke about all the time, sebek is... hilariously serious about most things, if not so much that it strikes just a teeny tiny concern in your mind. honestly you didn't take much into account, not the fact that he might consider it as an assault or something because you're already speeding away. apparently not having gotten too far cause he catches up easily and holds you up by the back of your collar like a cat. (you'd most likely have to mention the words cause all he registered was the apparent attack, when he does check he goes redder in the face and accidentally drops you. nows your chance to run!!)

*angelic voice singing* silver, my boo boo, I mean what...? felt something soft being squeezed into his arms, he knew it was you but assumed it was a pillow so he just?? used it as a pillow?? under his head now?? most folks would be confused at the sight of the sleepy guy laying on a balloon cause, one, it might pop and startle everyone in vicinity, two, there's words scribbled on it. although cut off since his head is blocking the way, but the 'LIKE YOU' is really obvious. so he wakes up, glances at it and goes back to sleep, except he couldn't cause the balloon actually popped comically the same time he absorbed it in.

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queerpumpkinnn · 10 months

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You Snooze You Lose

3.9k words

Summary: you're just about to give up on the dating scene altogether, so who better than your neighbor friend to show you how good dates usually end? can you tell this is my favorite trope

Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader (can be interpreted as older!Eddie)

Warnings: piercedtongue!Eddie, softdom!Eddie, mention of reader having an awkward date, alcohol (both consume but they're not drunk), Eddie refers to reader as princess/pretty and reader is afab but pronouns and clothing style is up for interpretation, Eddie picks up reader, thigh riding, choking, brief weed mention, fingering, oral sex, singular biblical reference?? (not counting someone saying 'oh god' or something of the like, kinda vague i think it'll probably go over a lot of people's heads), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, hair pulling (eddie receiving), mentions of voyeurism, reader begs a lot a lot a lot, unprotected sex and creampie (this is fiction, wrap it before you tap it), nipple play, panty sniffing and stealing, scratching (eddie receiving), Eddie's mouth (however you're interpreting this the answer is yes), heaps of praise, sprinkle of dumbification, squirting, Eddie is a pleasure dom through and through, let me know if I missed anything

While reading, I recommend you listen to the altar is my hips - a Spotify playlist by me!

Your head fell back against the car, inhaling deeply and heaving a long sigh that devolved into something of a groan. Your social battery was impossibly drained.

You had just come from another pitiful excuse of a date, someone from work that a mutual friend had set you up with. It wasn't a total disaster, but it didn't leave you with butterflies either. But you were home now, so you could forget about the experience for the timebeing.

A voice calling your name pulled you from your thoughts. It was one you recognized immediately as your next door neighbor, Eddie. When your eyes located him you saw him sauntering out of his open garage towards your driveway, beer in one hand and jean pocket over the other. His chunky boots set in stone his walk, so casual and powerful, and oh god he's right in front of you now.

"You must be doing some serious thinking out here," Eddie chuckled, leaning on your car opposite you. "Either that or there's more to that tree than meets the eye because you've been staring at it for the last five minutes."

You chuckled back at him. "You've been watching me?"

"With a face like that, it'd be a crime not to."

There it was again. That little game you and Eddie played. Even from your first day in the neighborhood Eddie welcomed you with his abrasive charm and an open invitation to his services on a car. Which he seemed to exercise often- his garage door was often open during the afternoons, blasting music as he sat under his car doing god knows what. He never failed to wave and wink at you as you pulled into the driveway every day as you came home from work.

As you became more accustomed to him, your friendship evolved into frequent Friday night hangouts, sitting on the ground in the living room with a six pack talking about anything and everything.

You hated to admit it, but it didn't take long for your cheeks and ears to start to get embarrassingly red in front of Eddie, especially when your conversation topics became more, well, intimate. Whether or not he'd picked up on it, you didn't know- nothing had ever come of your little crush; you'd been content to leave that between you and your vibrator.

"Kid? Y'alright?"

There you go again. You shook your head, blinking a few times before shooting him an apologetic smile.

"Yeah, sorry."

"You seem a bit on edge. Wanna talk about it?"

You shrug. "It's nothing, really. Just got home from a date."

"Assuming it didn't go well?"

"It wasn't bad, it just- I don't know, it felt forced."

Eddie hummed, nodding lightly. "I hear ya. Tell y'what, take ten to get settled and let me clean up, then come over, we'll break out a couple of bottles and you can tell me all about it, yeah?"

"Sounds great," you agreed, and Eddie gave you a playful salute before sauntering back to his own driveway- which you may or may not have watched for a little too long.

Once you'd changed into more casual attire, you took the short walk down the street to Eddie's house. By this time, the sun was half set, and his garage had been shut, the only evidence that someone was home being the lights on in the kitchen.

"There you are. Was starting to worry," Eddie grinned at you as soon as the door swung open. You noted a flash of silver behind his teeth as his tongue swiped against his side teeth, and the tickling in your lower gut a moment later.

"Aw, you worry about me?"

“All the time, sweetheart,” the man flashed a grin, stepping aside to welcome you inside. "So, what's gotcha down?"

You heaved a groan, plopping onto his couch. "It's such a long story, I'm not even sure I have it in me to tell the whole thing. But he treated me like one of the guys. I mean, I want us to be friends too, but..." you clicked your tongue and sighed, words escaping you.

Meanwhile Eddie just watched you, arm slung over the back cushion across from you on the other side of the L of the couch. His beer bottle rested on his knee, balanced by his hand. "You wanted to be romanced."

"Yeah, I guess so. He didn't even make sure I got to my car safely."

Eddie's eyed widened, head cocking in disbelief. "Are you kidding?" When you shook your head no, he flung his hands in the air. "That's not even romantic! I do that for my friend's kids I drive around because I don't want them getting kidnapped!"

"I know, I know. That's not even the worst part."

Eddie scoffed. "What could possibly be worse?"

"Let's just say I know more about his bowel happenings than I would like to."

Eddie wrinkled his nose, sucked in a breath through his teeth. "Yeah, y'know princess, I get the feeling he's not your soulmate." He set his bottle down with a clink on the wood, running his hands up his thighs. "Man, even I could do better."

Something in your stomach turned over at the thought. Eddie seemed to notice your change in demeanor, however slight, and set his bottle down.

"Could you?"

Although it was after a few long, heavy seconds, the words escaped you faster than your brain could process them. Eddie's eyebrows twitched in something mixing amusement and bewilderment.

"I could," he mused. You swore that when he shifted his legs opened a little bit wider. "'Least your night wouldn't end complaining to a friend over a beer."

"Oh yeah? How would my night have ended?"

Eddie cocked a brow, lips curling.

You tilted your head to the side, eyeing him. Another long, heavy moment settled between you two, where you sat staring at one another.

Then your mouth moved of its own accord.

"Show me."

Slowly, so slowly, Eddie stood. sauntered over to where you sat. He watched you like a hawk, mischievous eyes captivating yours. A single, calloused hand reached out to your jaw, tilting it up a bit so that you were facing him. Eddie's mouth quirked up at the new sight.

"Y'want me to show you how your night should've ended, princess?" He crooned. You nodded dumbly, earning another chuckle. "Show you how you deserve to be treated, hm?"

Before you could give a response, Eddie's mouth was on yours, slow and deliberate and relaxed, seeming to simultaneously pull tension from your bones and set your skin on fire. Your fingers reached for his jacket, tugging him closer. Eddie gripped the couch back behind you to hold his weight, other hand coming to cup the back of your neck, slinking into your hair. His thumb rested on your pulse, smirking a little when he felt it racing.

"Pretty thing," he murmured in between hot kisses, "are you sure about this?"

"So sure, Eddie, please," you breathed, tugging his jacket off; the leather was cool to the touch, nice on your searing fingertips.

You could feel his mouth quirk up at your desperation. The hand that held the couch came down to your legs, lighting fire in their wake and finding the crook under your knee, tugging outwards. Heat brewed in your core at the implication- fueled even more so when Eddie pulled back with a grunt to tug his jacket away. Your eyes seemed to be locked in on his, somehow darker and lit with something primal. His kiss-bitten lips hung open in a lazy grin.

"C'mere, pretty." Eddie's hands grip your thighs with a searing mix of worship and need, pulling them apart and tugging you towards the end of the couch by the crooks under your knees. You let out a squeak, breaking quickly into a stifled hum of pleasure as his mouth found and made quick work of your neck, kissing and nipping and licking with that damn ball of metal down the front of your throat, hands splaying over your thighs appreciatively all the while.

"Eddie," your voice had risen into a near whine, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. All thoughts were clouded with his storm- his breath fanning your jaw, warmth radiating onto your body, almost chest to chest, hands teasing dangerously high.

"Hm?"

"Please, please Eddie..." you weren't sure what you were asking for, really, you just knew you wanted more of him. However he would give himself to you you would gladly take.

"Please what? Y'know I'm all yours, honey, I'll give you everything you want and then some but I can't help you if I don't know what that is."

"More," you huffed, reaching for his wrists.

"More?" Eddie teased; the condescending lilt in his tone was overwhelmingly obvious, but in your frenzied state you only nodded limply. Your hand tugged at his, and he followed your lead as you dragged his hand towards your neck, pressing at the back of his hand to indicate what you wanted him to do.

"Oh? Princess likes choking, huh?" The excitement in Eddie's voice was hardly containable, but he managed to play it off cooler than how he really felt- like a dog who just heard dinner being poured into his bowl. "That is interesting."

Eddie's grip on your neck wasn't really that strong, but it made your head spin nonetheless, eliciting a weak, content noise from you.

"There we go, fuckin' love hearing that." Eddie gave a kiss to your cheek, his other hand occupied with sending shock waves down to your gut as his fingers walked up the back of your leg. "What else does princess want, hm?"

You only let out a whine, too engrossed with the building, unbearable heat in between your legs, which, at the sound of his nickname, twitched further open.

Lucky for you, Eddie picked up on that immediately. "Aw, sweet thing, shoulda told me." He tuts, moving both hands under you and rearranging the two of you so that your crotch was hovering over his thigh, other leg hooking onto yours so that you were spread open for him.

"Here we go honey, y'wanna use my leg, hm? Get yourself off?" His words were muffled by the skin of your shoulder.

Realistically you knew you wouldn't be able to orgasm from dry humping his thigh alone, but God you were so eager for friction you were willing to try. You whimpered an 'mhm', setting yourself down on his leg- even that small touch made you gasp. Eddie's hands reached for your ass, helping you grind down onto him, nearly knocking the breath out of you when the contact you so desperately craved turned into a wildfire of need.

"That's it, sweetheart, keep going. 'S'it feel good? Yeah?" He mimicked your whimper of response, proud grin never faltering, even as he nipped at your jaw. His hands, firm, surprisingly gentle for how rough and calloused they felt, traveled from your ass to your waist, fingertips slinking under the hem of your shirt.

"Can we take this off, princess? Want to see you, pretty please let me see you." His voice was low and sultry and had goosebumps rising on your back. You whined an 'mhm', the thought of what he was going to do when you were topless spurring you to pull it over your head yourself.

Once your chest was bared to him, Eddie's hands, trailing lightly enough to tickle, found your poor, sensitive nipples, thumbs brushing over them enough to make you jolt, gasping in surprise.

"Eddie, Eddie- fuck, more, need more, please," you cried, hand flying to his hair when his head dipped to lick over your chest. Whether it was to tug him away or keep him there, you didn't know.

"Aw, I know, you're just insatiable, aren't you?" Eddie gave you his best faux sympathetic voice, and for a minute you actually thought he might feel sorry for you, like it wasn't his plan all along to get you worked up like this.

Eddie's hands worked under your legs, pulling you closer to him before hoisting you up, stomping somewhere in the house you'd only visited a handful of times and never under this circumstance- his bedroom.

It was a dimly lit room, smelling faintly of weed, but you weren't given much time to take in the sights because Eddie plopped you down on his bed, immediately towering over you, caging you in with his arms. His curls tickled your face, then your neck when he moved there. A few sloppy kisses quickly turned heated again when his leg wedged itself between yours. You took the opportunity, however fleeting, to rut yourself against the material.

But this time Eddie gripped your hips, pinning you down. "Patience honey, I'm getting there." The glint of warning in his eyes had you nearly shaking in excitement. A glimmer inside of you wondered what he'd be like if you ignored his warnings.

Eddie slithered down, slowly, kissing his way down to your navel. You willed your hips to stay down, not to lean into his touch, but they did anyway. Your eyes fell shut, head falling back and fingers finding the pillow for something to weakly grip onto.

But a tap on your hipbone snapped them open, looking down at a pair of big brown eyes staring up at you, hovering over your cunt. Knowing what he was asking, you responded with lifting your hips, making it easy for Eddie to slip your bottoms down Your phone nearly fell out of your back pocket from the force with which he flung them, as if he detested the fabric for its audacity to cover you up.

"Good, doing so good." Eddie gave your thighs a squeeze, smiling up at you with something a little kinder, more endearing than the smirk he'd donned the whole evening. With another squeeze, his head dipped down close to your clothed cunt. You swore you could hear him inhale, but your train of thought was halted when Eddie licked a fat stripe up the front of your underwear, sending shocks to your already hypersensitive clit.

"God- fuck!" You tried to clap a hand over your mouth, but Eddie tugged it away as quickly as it came.

"Y'doin' alright, princess? You seem a little tense." Eddie's teasing lilt came from somewhere under you, you could see the grin even through closed eyes. You opened them anyways. His smile was turned into something more playful, a glimpse of the boyish humor he always charmed you with. His head leaned against your thigh like a puppy, pouting up at you with false concern.

"Wonder fuckin' why," you gritted through your teeth, throwing your head back in exasperation.

"Easy tiger," Eddie chuckled, fingers pulling your underwear down- this time you definitely heard an inhale. You heard him mutter something along the lines of "saving these for later."

Eddie's fingers were quick to find you again, thumbs brushing over the joint between your thighs and your pussy, as if he thought the action was soothing and not setting you on fire.

You let out a strangled sound. "Eddie, I swear, if you don't fucking touch me-"

"You'll what?" Eddie's brow raised. His gaze alone made any snide remark die on your tongue.

As if on cue, your phone, long forgotten on the edge of your bed, lit up with an incoming call.

"Well?" Eddie prompted. You reached for the phone, seeing the absolute last name you cared to see illuminating the screen. You gulped, a tinge of guilt seeping in.

"Ah, I think I know who it is." Eddie chuckled, forehead knocking into your thigh as he made a poor attempt to hide his thorough amusement. "Well? Y'gonna answer it?"

You paused, made a face. You didn't even want to talk to him, really.

Eddie barked out a laugh at your reaction. "Shame. He could've learned a thing or two."

You giggled, but it quickly turned into a loud moan as Eddie's tongue, followed by that damn metal ball in the middle, began teasing circles over your clit. Somehow you were both infinitely relieved and worked up even more. Your phone was long forgotten, flung a little too far as, somewhere in the back of your brain, you heard it clatter on the wooden floor. Not that you could be brought to care, not with the way Eddie's tongue felt tracing your weeping hole.

"Fuck, all this for me? Sweet thing, if I knew how good this pretty pussy was sooner." You wondered momentarily what the end of that sentence was, but with his lips around your clit you weren't too worried. Ceaseless and electric his mouth was, bringing you slowly but surely towards that high you'd been chasing fervently for an hour now.

"Eddie, Eddie, I'm gonna- fuck! So good, Eddie, I'm gonna come, pleasepleaseplease-" You could barely understand yourself speak, so lost in your cloud of pleasure. But Eddie seemed to understand perfectly, cooing sweet praises into your cunt as he shook his head back and forth.

"Gonna cum, princess? Go on, you've earned it. Been so good, so patient f'me. Good, good, let go." He pulled both of your hands towards your lower stomach, interlacing them with his.

The noises you made as you unraveled under his marvelous touch were downright pornographic, downright sinful. One might be tempted to say you'd forgotten how to blush, but the heat in your cheeks would have shot down the theory. Waves of pleasure crashed over you, pulling pure electric heat from your sex as you writhed and shivered from Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

But when the pleasure subsided into jolts, Eddie didn't stop. His tongue continued tracing your clit languidly, and- oh- a new sensation at your core had you squeezing his hands.

"Eddie, ohmygod-" Quickly you realized what he was doing, one finger prodding around your entrance before sinking into your embarrassingly wet cunt, which welcomed him. Your back arched when his finger curled, a guttural sound ripping from your throat as he pushed deeper, searching for that spot, the one that would ensure a noise complaint from a few neighbors.

"Shh, you're okay, you're doing so well, hm? So well, yeah, relax- just like that." Eddie hummed, another finger joining the first and a high-pitched moan from you following shortly after.

And then he found it. That damn spot deep in your gut, and he bullied it with his fingertips over and over and over again.

"Eddie!" His name fell from your mouth like a hymn, moans almost swallowed by the pillow you tugged to cover your face when the brief thought of the neighbors made you a slight bit guilty. Your second orgasm of the night was coming at you full steam ahead, much easier to find from your oversensitivity as well as the new sensation that joined his thumb swiping over your clit.

"That's it, princess, give me another. G'na get you nice and ready, yeah?" Ready for what, you had an idea that sparked, if possible, even more delicious heat in between your legs.

You were animalistic at this point, nearly screaming for him to make you come again. You almost sobbed when his fingers pulled out from you, hands reaching weakly for him.

"Easy, easy, I know. Gonna make it worth your wait, mm? You want my cock, sweet thing?"

Your mouth salivated at the mention, and you immediately propped up onto your elbows to watch him line himself up with you.

"Please, Eddie, please," you sighed, head lolling back.

And there it was, that delicious stretch that had your mind reeling and fingernails digging into Eddie's inked shoulders.

"Oh, oh oh, so good, so good, Eddie, right there!"

Your hands were grabbing for every bit of him you could find. Tugging his hair, scratching down his back, pulling his neck down into a searing, heavy-breath kiss.

"Fuck, princess, keep clenching and I won't last." Eddie grunted into your mouth. His hand, previously pressing onto your lower stomach, pulled your legs so that your ankles rested over his shoulders, bending down a little so that he could move deeper, and did it have you seeing stars.

"Keep- ah- keep going, please, 'm gonna cum, gonna- Eddie!"

Your cunt convulsed around Eddie's cock, throbbing inside of you as you felt white-hot release wash over you. You sobbed into Eddie's pillow, chanting his name as he overwhelmed you with praise. Eddie fucked you through it as best he could, but you could feel he was slowing down, spurts of wet heat in your gut moments later.

"Oh, baby... didn't know you could do that." Eddie was grinning like an idiot, incredulous grin staring down at his thighs. Dizzy, you looked down where he was staring like he just won the lottery.

His thighs were splattered with what you could only guess was your own arousal, even a few drops on his stomach.

"Oh my god," you flopped your head back, hand covering your eyes and trying to cover your embarrassed smile.

"Hey, that was hot." Eddie pulled your hand away, giving you that same sweet smile, squeezing your thigh before pulling himself out. You winced at the feeling, guilt following as you realized his sheets were definitely soiled.

You let out a long exhale, mind still racing. Eddie, having tucked himself into a new pair of pants, watched you. When he concludes you've had a moment to sit and think, he strokes your arm.

"Hey, cutie. You alright there?"

"Uh huh."

Eddie chuckled at the stupid smile you're sure you wore. "C'mon, gotta get you cleaned up."

"Yeah- sorry about your sheets."

Eddie pursed his lips, shrugged. "It was worth it, don't you think?" You attempted to stand, but Eddie held up a hand. "Allow me."

Eddie carried you into his bathroom, seating you carefully onto the toilet before excusing himself. He came back a moment later with your phone, wet wipes, and a glass of water.

You and Eddie fell into more casual conversation- the latter participant heavy on the cocky jokes- it was comforting. He'd offered you to stay the night; not like you hadn't conked out on his couch before anyways.

Brushing your teeth with your finger, you tapped your phone to check the time- and almost knocked it from the sink.

"FUCK." You nearly sprayed toothpaste foam all over Eddie's mirror, holding the phone inches from your face in case your vision had somehow failed you the first time.

"What, what what??" Eddie shouted from the shower, a bottle clattering on the tile shortly after.

You spat your foam out, coughing. You pulled the curtain open enough to push your phone into the shower to show him the time and name of your most recent call.

A pfft noise followed by loud cackling echoed off the tiles. "Oh shit! Y'think he got a show too, sure it wasn't FaceTime?"

Meanwhile you sunk your head into your hands in utter mortification.

Although a tiny part of you was laughing too.

Eddie Munson Masterlist

Stranger Things Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie fanfic #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things 4 #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #eddie stranger things

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jadeysjasmine · 3 months

Note

WE NEED NEGLECTED PART 3!!!

Neglected Part 3 - Mapi x Ingrid Engen x Reader

A/N: this is a repost! also still have not written more of the alternative ending lol. 4992 words

Tags: angst(ish?) but with a happy ending

Summary: Maria and Ingrid and determined to make amends

You were showered, dressed and on your way to breakfast in record time, you had just made your way into the elevator and the door were just about to close when a hand stopped it and your heart stopped when you saw the two people you had been purposely avoiding enter.

Maria and Ingrid.

——

You really didn't know how to react, you were sure the universe were playing some sick joke on you.

Your eye fell to the floor as you made yourself as small as possible, backing into far corner hoping the elevator would hurry up and get to your floor.

As your luck would have it, that was not the case as you felt the elevator stutter and the the lights flickered as the elevator came to an abrupt stop.

You couldn't believe it. Your heart started racing as your chest stared to feel tight.

You hated small spaces and they knew that.

Sitting on the ground you brought your knees to your chest, focusing on your breathing to try and calm yourself down but it was no use.

Your ears were ringing and the longer you were sat in this elevator the worse it got.

You cursed yourself under your breath for forgetting to charge your phone, there is three people who can help you like this. Maria, Ingrid and Alexia, you didn't want to ask the first 2 and you had no way to contact alexia so the next best option was to calm yourself down.

Too focused on trying to calm down you didn't notice the worried glanced sent your way by Maria and Ingrid nor did you notice them getting closer until you felt a warm hand cover the one on your right knee. You look up, met with the worried eyes of Ingrid,

"Breathe elskling." She said in a soothing tone.

She began guiding you how to breath, showing you how to do it and getting you to copy her. Her hand on your knee started rubbing soothing circles as she continued to guide you.

"You're doing so well carino, just like Ingrid." You heard Maria chime in, you hadn't noticed but she had been speaking to the staff through the emergency button on the lift.

Your breathing had almost steadied out and your heat rate dropping back to normal as you started to come back to reality but then reality hit and the past few weeks came flooding back.

Removing Ingrids hand from your knee, your gaze found your shoes as you mumbled a quick thank you.

You heard Ingrid sigh before she sat with Maria at the opposite side of the elevator, Maria mentioned that they would try fix the lift as soon as possible but until then we would have to wait it out.

After 10 minutes you started to get restless, you were so bored and with no battery on your phone you were stuck trying to keep yourself entertained.

You heard a throat clear so you snuck a glance to see two pairs of eyes already on you, trying to divert your eyes as quickly as possible but Maria spoke up.

"Amor can we talk? Please?" She said, voice filled with desperation.

"There is nothing to talk about." You snapped back, unsure where the sudden burst of anger came from.

Hurt and guilt, two emotions so clear on the faces of the Spaniard and Norwegian. You didn't care though, you had been to hell and back for weeks and not once had they apologised to you or at the bare minimum spoken to you.

"We just want to explain ourselves, please and if you still want nothing to do with us after then we will leave you alone." Ingrid pleased, voice sounding as desperate as Maria's did.

Anger bubbling up inside of you, unsure if it was due to wondering where they got the audacity to ask you to explain themselves after how they have been treating you or the fact you are considering hearing them out after everything that has happened.

"I have nothing to say to you and I don't care what you have to say to me. - You spat, feeling tears welling up in your eyes - You both have had multiple opportunities these past few weeks and neither of you have even thought to apologise."

You were emotionally and physically drained, you were really at the end of you patience and you couldn't speak to anyone about how you were feeling, well other than alexia but you have been feeling like a burden to her so you really don't want to bother her, not when she has her own issues.

The more they persisted that you listen, the more you were considering it. You had no energy to keep fighting so with a roll of your eyes you gestured them to start talking.

Ingrid started, "First off elskling we are so so sorry for how we have been treating you - Maria hummed in agreement next to her - when we bailed on you it was not intentional, we were getting dressed when a few of the girls randomly showed and made plans which we tried to had to get out of but we couldn't, not without explaining why."

Maria was next to speak, "We felt so guilty and then to see you in training, we really wanted to approach you but we thought it would be better to give you time to cool off. Then you got the concussion and we so badly wanted to run over."

She had to take a deep breath to calm down before continuing, "We've done a lot of thinking, if you give us another chance we are done hiding, done not communicating properly because we love you so much, our relationship is not the same without you carino."

Your head was spinning, did they really love you or were they just trying to get you to let them back in so they could hurt you again. You couldn't handle that, not again.

You were broken out of your thoughts when the elevator came back to life, going down to your stop before the doors finally opened. You sprung to your feet, racing out past the maintenance workers and a very confused looking Aitana.

Entering the bathroom you leaned over the sink, taking a deep breath and splashing your face with cold water.

Silently berating yourself for even thinking about the possibility of forgiven them but you couldn't help in, you were in love with them and no matter how much you tried to get over them, you couldn't.

The door swung open revealing a concerned looking alexia, she rushed to your side, talking in really fast Spanish which you didn't understand but by the tone of her voice you could tell she was concerned about you.

She held your face in her hands, searching your face for any kind of indication on how you were feeling.

You wanted so badly to tell her what happened, how it makes you feel and how angry with yourself you are that you were ready to drop everyone and forgiven then, even after everything they've done but it was as if you forgot how to speak.

You just shook your head, reassuring her you were fine and that you just got worked up due to the small space, not wanting to bother her with your issues.

She didn't seem convinced but could tell you didn't want to talk about it so instead she comforted you.

——

Later on in the evening you and alexia formulated a plan to make them jealous, you were excited but also nervous, when you were with them they were quite territorial and you don't see why this would be any different.

It was the following day, you had just beaten Real Madrid 4-0 in the final and you were all celebrating with champagne in the dressing room when an idea popped into alexia's head.

She grabbed a bottle of half finished champagne and made her way over to you, holding your jaw in one of her massive hands, you looked at her confused but she just gave you a 'play along' expression so you relaxed, she tilted your head back while guiding you to open your mouth, she brought the champagne bottle up to your lips without breaking eye contact and began to pour it in your mouth, you felt you face heat up as she used her thumb to wipe the excess that dripped down your chin as your teammates now focused on your two and we're cheering.

There were 2 sets of eyes burning holes into you both and if looks could kill alexia would most certainly be dead, she noticed and sent you a subtle smirk before retreating back to her cubby, you're still stunned.

You heard them sigh loudly before exiting the changing room, no one noticed and just continued partying, you were dancing with Frido and Mariona.

A while later you all were packing up and heading to the bus ready to go to the hotel and get ready to go out partying.

You were heading towards the exit alone, one of the last to leave when you were tugged into an empty room, your body tensed as you squeezed your eye shut, a surprised squeal left your mouth which was muted by a hand.

The hand was removed as your heard a light switch turn on but you never opened your eyes, "Please don't kill me," you begged.

Receiving no reply, you opened your eyes to see a confused but amused looking Maria and Ingrid, "We aren't going to kill you cariño," Maria spoke, her voice soft.

You visibly relaxed but were hit with a wave of anxiety, you knew they were probably wanting to talk about your 'show' with alexia but they had no right to an explanation from you, not after how they treated you.

"Uhh, not to be rude but why did you drag me in here?" you questioned, voice small as you did not like being under the intense gaze of the two older women.

"What was that?" Ingrid asked, voice filled with jealously.

"None of your business." you snapped, getting defensive at the hint of accusation in her tone.

"Are you and alexia together?" Maria asked, completely ignoring your previous comment.

"Again, none of your business!" you spat, voice getting louder as they kept speaking to you as if you had done something wrong.

You shrugged off their attempts at reaching out to touch you before opening the door and slamming it behind you, storming to the bus, you mood doing a complete 180 than what it was before they had dragged you into that room.

You took your usually seat next to alexia, admittedly sitting in the chair rather harshly, alexia looked over confused at the sudden mood change but when she saw Maria and Ingrid getting on the bus, looking rather guilty when they noticed you, she knew they were behind it and she was pissed.

She began standing, intending on confronting the pair but you assured her that you were fine and to leave it, involuntarily sitting down as the bus took off.

——

You were at a local club with the team, currently on the dance floor dancing to some song you don't even know, alexia was pressed against your back, one hand holding a drink and the other securely placed on your hips, swaying you both to the rhythm of the song.

Maria and Ingrid were sitting in one of the many rented out booths, eyes not leaving you and alexia on the dance floor, both of their faces void of any emotion but when alexia leaned in to whisper in your ear, from their angle it looked like she was kissing your neck, their expression changed to one full of fury.

"I can feel them staring," she giggled in your ear, you both laughed before the song switched to one alexia didn't really like and she took that opportunity to get you both refills.

Later in the night you and alexia had separated, dancing in a big group of your teammates, you had drank more and were borderline drunk.

You're dancing alone when a sensual song starts playing, you feel a body press into your back, hands holding your hips as Maria presses against your front, arms finding their way around your shoulder, essentially trapping you between who you now know is Ingrid. Being so close to them you could smell the alcohol on their breath.

You were so lost in the feeling of their hands on you, all of you dancing along to the music when you feel a pair of lips on your neck, you throw your head back getting lost in the familiar feeling, skins tingling where their hands roamed your body and lips touched your skin.

Suddenly hit with the reality of what was happening, you push them off and begin heading for the exit to the club, ignoring their calls of your name.

——

You had just gotten home from training when you noticed a bouquet of your favourite flowers along with a note at your door, you were very confused but as you picked it up and saw the hand writing on the note you rolled your eyes, it was Ingrid's.

Removing the old flowers from your vase you replace them with your new flowers, you knew you should probably throw them away but you can't.

The note was discarded on your coffee table, not able to bring yourself to read it.

Laying awake at night, your mind wandering to the note, curious to what is said but you didn't want to give in, knowing then knew what to say to have you crawling back.

Huffing you threw off your covers and made your way to the living room where the note was sitting on the coffee table, covered by a book so you didn't stare at it.

You ripped open the letter quite impatiently, almost tearing it in half and began to read, the letter had been split into two paragraphs, both handwritten by each Maria and Ingrid but both were along the same lines, both apologising profusely for their actions and how they have been treating you, saying there really is no excuse to have missed your anniversary dinner and professing their love to you but one line caught your eye, it was one of the last one.

'We will make this right, we will love you how you deserve to be loved.'

That angered you, you were angry that they sounded like they think they deserved a second chance but it also made you feel warm inside, butterflies in your stomach as your checks flushed, their possessiveness done things to you and they knew it.

You didn't want to forgive them, scared as to how they would treat you if you gave them another chance because you didn't want to go through this again, you couldn't but you fear you already have forgiven them.

You sighed, you had initially hoped that reading the note would calm you down but it just sent your thought spinning even more.

——

You were rushing into the training ground, cutting it fine after over sleeping, when you noticed a coffee and pastry from your favourite coffee shop sitting in your spot, you knew who done this as the coffee shop is one you frequented with Maria and Ingrid, your eyes traced the changing room to try find the duo, meeting their eyes you noticed they were already looking at you so you gave them a smile and mouthed a 'thank you'.

They had spoken to you a few times during training but you were short with your replies, not wanting to let them in, you could tell they understood but they still looked hurt.

Pairing up with alexia for all the drills, you were basically glued to her side laughing and having fun, Maria and Ingrid were not fans of this, sending glares your way, alexia noticed and winked your way.

They approached you after training asking if you wanted to get lunch with them after, you decline, stating you had plans to get lunch with alexia, sadistically enjoying the hurt expressions they have but also feeling kinda guilt as there is no plan to get lunch with alexia, making up the excuse to decline their offer.

Bidding your goodbyes, you race off to find alexia, hoping she isn't too busy and can actually have lunch with you.

You find her chatting with Irene and a coach so you hover close but not too close, not wanting to eaves drop.

She notices you and excused herself, making her way over to you, "Hola Bebita, are you alright?" She asked.

"I'm fine ale, would you like to have lunch with me? Maria and Ingrid asked me but I told them that I had already made plans with you," you said, her face broke out into a teasing grin, "Lunch plans with me? I don't remember seeing that on my calendar," she teased.

You rolled you eyes but laughed, "But of course I'll have lunch with you, let me finish up and then we can head out," she continued, you nodded before disappearing off to the changing room to pack up your stuff and change.

You're at lunch, having just told alexia about the flowers and the note last night along with the coffee and the pastry this morning, she was happy that your plan was working but she was hesitant, not wanting you to go back to them so easily after the hurt they caused you, you assured her that you wouldn't let them in so easily, if at all.

——

The following morning you were awoken by a loud crash coming from your kitchen, you shot up before grabbing your 'in case of emergencies' baseball bat from your closet, slowly creeping down the hall, heart pounding out of your chest, when you hear another crash followed by Ingrid quietly scolding Maria for making too much noise, stating that the Spaniard would wake you if she was too loud, you sighed in relief, glad it wasn't some psychotic murderer before you peaked round and saw Maria and Ingrid making breakfast and wearing matching aprons, your heart swelling at the sight.

You were confused as to how they got into your house before remembering you had given them a spare key. You made your presence know by clearing your throat cause them to whip around, Maria looking guilty as Ingrid swatted her, cursing her out for waking you before they had finished.

Your eyes trail to the mess behind them, ingredients scattered your kitchen worktop smoke, "We're making you breakfast, it was meant to be breakfast in bed but someone can't be quiet," Ingrid said, facing Maria when she said the last bit.

The pancakes they were cooking began smoking, not noticing as they were too busy waiting for your reaction, "Burnt pancakes, my favourite," you teased, they looked confused before the smoke alarm had their heads whipping around, Ingrid took the pan off the stove while Maria was wafting a towel trying to stop the smoke alarm.

They had made breakfast while your supervised, sitting on the countertop and tasting as they cooked.

You three spent the morning eating and chatting, it felt nice chatting with them, you felt relaxed and were opening up a tiny bit more which they seemed to notice.

It was an off day but they had errands to run so they bid their goodbyes and left shortly after, you were kind of disappointed when they left, you were enjoying their company and dare you say, you missed them.

You spent the rest of your morning sulking, missing the duo, deciding finally to complete your own errands.

Returning home you noticed a small box on the counter and a small note reading ' M & I<3' next to it, it definitely wasn't there before you left. Picking up the small box you opening it, revealing a pair of beautiful earrings, you were shocked as these looked expensive.

They had been so sweet ever since the elevator but you still had lingering doubt, doubt that if you let them back in things would go back to how they previously were, you didn't want to accept there gifts and they assume that all is forgiven because it's not and you're not even sure what you want.

Still the gesture was nice and you liked the earrings so you decided to keep them and wear them for the team night out tonight, you had a game at the weekend so instead of going to the club, you were going to dinner at a high end restaurant in Barcelona. Alexia had texted you while you were out, telling you that she was picking you up to head to the restaurant together and to be ready by 6:30pm.

It was just after 5pm so you decided to shower and get dressed, you put on a fancy all black outfit and decide on silver jewellery to match your new earring.

You had just finished the final touches of your outfit when your phone buzzed, it was a text from alexia informing you that she was outside, you lock up and make your way out to meet her.

Alexia had decided on a slim fitting black dress, matching black heels with red accents, a black coat and a red bag to match the accents on her heels and if you were being honest, she looked phenomenal.

You and alexia had entered the restaurant, one of the first to arrive, Maria and Ingrid had not arrived yet. Sitting in between alexia and Irene at the far end of the table, too engrossed in the conversation to notice Maria and Ingrid arrive, as soon as they arrived their eyes scanned the table looking for you, frowning when they notice the seats next to you taken, especially by alexia, alexia was their friend but she was too close to you, you were theirs.

They sat across from you, you looked in their direction and they finally noticed the earrings you had on, with a sly smile Maria commented first "You look gorgeous and the earrings go with your outfit, are they new?" Ingrid hummed in agreement, eyes fixated on your outfit.

"Thank you, they just showed up," you teased, they just chuckled.

You spent the majority of the night in conversation with the pair, you tried to engage with your other teammates but your mind was always on Maria and Ingrid, even though they were right in-front of you.

——

The following 2 weeks were similar, they would give you gifts relating to interests of yours, but it wasn't only gifts, they spent time with you and were genuinely trying to make it up to you, even though you hadn't explicitly gotten back with them, the line of friendship and relationship between you three was fading, no physical activities like kissing or cuddling but the chemistry between you was definitely not friendly.

There was still a deep rooted insecurity, the one that caused this whole issue, you knew before forgiving them you had to set clear boundaries, you didn't even mind not telling the whole world but not telling the team or your family is a big no.

They were coming over tonight, Ingrid claimed it was a movie night but you knew there was something they wanted to say and your best guess would be taking the next step.

You were on your couch, knee bouncing as you waiting anxiously for their arrival any second now. You must have zoned out as you jumped when you heard a knock on your door, composing yourself your answered and were met with Maria and Ingrid, they had a few bags of what you were assuming was snacks and dinner from your favourite restaurant, opening the door wider for them to enter you greeted them with a hug.

You three spent the evening eating takeaway and watching movies, you were sat in between them but you were not cuddled up, your eyes were fixated on the screen but every so often either Maria or Ingrid would turn to look at you, they would go to say something but stop themselves and turn back and focus on the movie.

It was after the third Harry Potter film when Ingrid turned off the tv, Maria flicking on the floor lamp so you were not in pitch black, they both looked at you and you shrunk under their gaze. They sensed this, Ingrid placing a comforting hand on your knee, trying not startle you by pushing you too far, your eyes were locked on your hands and you picked at the skin around your finger nails.

"Bebita, we need to talk to you," Maria started, she sounded nervous.

You hummed urging them to continue, "I know we have been apologising continuously over the past few weeks and we can never apologise enough." Ingrid started, Maria agreeing before continuing, "Me and Ingrid have been talking and we want you back, want you to be ours again."

You were silent, of course you knew it was coming but to hear them actually say it was a completely different story, you must have been lost in thoughts for so long because both girls started to get nervous, like they read the signals wrong and pushed you too early. "That of course is if you want us, we understand if you're not ready," Maria blurted out, voice shaky with a hint of disappointment laced in her tone.

You lifted your head and looked at them for the first time since the conversation began, "I do want to be with you again but I can't be with you if it's going to be the same as last time, I don't care if we don't tell the world but I want to tell the girls and our families," they looked sceptical by your request.

"I'm sorry but if we can't do that then I can't be with you," you told them firmly, finally growing a backbone and not letting them walk all over you.

No one said anything for what felt like ages, you assumed the silence meant that they didn't want you if it meant outing your relationship, you accepted this conversation as closure but you would be lying if you said it didn't hurt any less now there was basically confirmation of the end of your relationship, your eyes found your hands again, eyes stinging as you desperately try to hold back the tears.

"Ok," Ingrid said nonchalantly, your head shooting up, confusion written all over your face as you see both girls trying to fight back smiles.

"Ok what?" You asked, slightly irritated that they were smiling while your relationship was ending but you were even more confused.

"Ok we'll tell them, tell everyone that you're ours. We love you so much carino and we won't let anything stop us from loving you so if this is what you want, this is what we will give you," Maria stated, now both girls grinning from ear to ear, unable to fight back their smiles, you look over at Ingrid with a questioning look as she nods in confirmation.

The only way to describe your sudden feeling is euphoric, like the stress of the past few months had suddenly disappeared, you pulled both girls into you, hugging them both as best as you can but the hug was at an awkward angle, you couldn't care less though as you held onto them with a vice grip, scared that if you let them go they'd leave you again.

You feel them trying to pull away so you respond by gripping tighter, you feel their bodies vibrate with laughter, eventually Ingrid wriggles her way free, her eyes lock to yours, you both sporting matching grins as she lifts her hand to cup your face, wordlessly she leans in and you do too, meeting her half way, when your lips finally meet its amazing, her lips are plump and soft as they move against your own, her hand that's cupping your face tightens on your jaw as the other cradles the back of your neck, you change the angle by tilting your head slightly cause her to groan and press her lips harder against yours, your hand is still holding Maria while the other tightly grips her bicep.

So caught up with kissing Ingrid your surroundings blurring until your hear someone clear their throat, you turn around to see Maria feigning jealously, you grin apologetically at her before leaning forward and capturing her lips with your own, her lips soft like Ingrids though her kisses are rougher, still they send your head spinning all the same, she kisses you fiercely and passionately, teeth nibbling your bottom lips as you gasp, using the opportunity to slip her tongue into your mouth. You felt teeth nipping at the exposed skin on your neck as the Norwegians hands roam your clothes body, tracing from your shoulders down your back and around to your torso.

Eventually pulling away, your chest heaving as once again your face is plastered with a goofy grin, just ecstatic to have your girls back. You spent the rest of your evening watching the rest of the Harry Potter movies before begging them to take you to their apartment so you could have a much needed reunion with Bagheera.

That night they both had composed instagram posts to announce your relationship to the world, you tried to assure them that you were fine with just telling the team and your families however they were insistent, claiming that the world needs to know how in love with you they were so they posted a photo dump each, some with the three of you, some randoms ones of you on your own like when you fell asleep on the couch and Bagheera had claimed your head as his new bed.

You cuddled up in between them, content with how things panned out and hoping that that is the drama over for a while so you can just focus on your girls, not forgetting to text alexia an update, thanking her for her support over the last few months and wishing her well on her date and demanding an update when she returns home. Locking you phone and relaxing you shut your eyes as you three call it a night.

Just you and your girls and the cat.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #mapi leon imagine #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon #ingrid engen imagine #ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen #alexia putellas

305 notes · View notes

sin-djarin · 9 months

Text

Video Nasty (Joel Miller x Fem!Reader)

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Rating: Explicit 18+. MDNI.

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: Your quest to clear out the basement leads to an unexpected discovery.

Warnings: SMUT, porn with minimal plot, unspecified era, mentions of food, no mention of age (reader is in late 20s), unprotected P in V sex (don't do this, be safe), sweat, creampie. No use of y/n.

A/N: Listen. I don't know anymore. Forgive me for any typos or grammar errors please.

You can read other snippets from this here:

Video Nasty II: Restricted Viewing

PLEASE PUT YOUR AGES IN YOUR BIO. I REALLY DON'T WANT TO HAVE TO BLOCK ANYONE.

Reblog and comment to make your writer's day.

There was one task you had been putting off every weekend since you got here – going through the boxes of stuff in the basement. That’s all it was known to you as – stuff. Stuff and probably junk. About six or seven cardboard boxes - only identifiable with your name or Joel’s on written in marker on the front of them. All of them holding your belongings that had yet to be sorted through waiting to be assigned their places throughout the house.

When the seasons changed you wondered where that certain cosy sweater might be or where the mug you’d had since college went. You just never looked for it. Only the essentials had been taken out of their boxes – enough plates and glasses to eat and drink with along with some other day to day necessities like underwear and socks.

But today you were taking the plunge. The day passes you by as you sort boxes of your old jeans, bras that no longer held their shape, notebooks and sketchpads full of doodles, and piles of CDs and cassette tapes. It took so long because every time you pulled something out a decision had to be made – keep it or donate it. In other words; keep the memory or lose it. When you pulled up a t-shirt, it’s too easy to relive the moment you wore it to that fourth of July party ten years ago. And that’s all of this is now – memories. You sigh at the thought but find a small mercy in the fact you can always make new ones.

Joel’s boxes are easier to go through than yours. Mountains of entangled cables each with an unknown function, screwdriver sets with some parts missing, dozens of old different sized and shaped batteries. Most of this, you guessed, could go straight in the trash. As you come to the end of his second box, a smell of pepper and basil hits your nose. Hours have gone by.

“Dinner” his voice booms from the top of the basement stairs, calling you to the kitchen.

“Just a second” you reply.

There are only a few items left in the box. If you finish, you can eat dinner with a sense of accomplishment. Quickly you take out the stacks at the bottom and start to make decisions about the various sheets of papers in your hands. A few old drill manuals – he doesn’t use this brand anymore – trash. Baseball cards – keep – they could be worth something.

The last thing in your grip is a square white envelope that’s beaten up. But it’s sturdy. Flipping it around, the view through its clear plastic window makes your jaw drop. It’s a DVD. The disc itself is white with big red letters that say NASTY NURSES VOL VI. In a smaller font underneath reads five minute preview – not for resale. A giggle escapes you at the thought of Joel watching something so cliché. Opening the envelope to pull the disc out to get a better look you can see it’s been used – the scratches and fingerprints make that clear.

“Hey” you jump as he calls for you a second time.

“Coming!”

You shove the disc in the front pocket of your sweatshirt and climb the stairs to the kitchen.

He’s already sat at the small dining table, hunched over and half way through a plate loaded with pasta in a tomato sauce and chicken. Taking your seat opposite him, you try to hide the grin that threatens to spread across your face. You know something he doesn’t.

“How’d it go?” he asks, with a mouth full of food, his head only inches from the dish.

“Yeah. Went through everything” you tell him. Your chewing making it easier to disguise your smile.

“You look pretty happy about it. Are we keeping a lot?”

“Not really. Tried to get rid of as much as I could”

“Right” he nods and continues to shovel forkfuls of pasta into his mouth.

You’re starving but you only pick at your dinner. Your thoughts are stolen by what could possibly be on that DVD. More than likely, it’s not anything brilliant. But the idea of what Joel did while watching it is all consuming. It’s not a taboo image – him getting off to porn. But it is distracting, more tempting than the food on your plate. And he notices.

“What’s wrong? Too much salt?” he asks, one eyebrow arched.

“No, no. It’s great” you bite your lip, trying to stifle that same smirk.

“You should eat” he points to your plate with the silver fork. “Been down there for hours and it’s late”

He’s right; it is late. Late for eating dinner anyway. You take his advice and eat until you’re comfortably full. When you’re done, you lean back into the wooden chair and he carries your plate away to the sink. Watching him clean up doesn’t help, it only sends your mind into a whirl. His broad back is turned to you – one arm holding the plate steady under the running water, the other moving backwards and forwards holding a sponge while his head bows, looking down at what he’s doing.

He shuts off the faucet and spins back around to you, wiping his hands with a towel.

“What’s that?” he points to your stomach.

You look down, expecting to find a mess of sauce down your black hoodie but it there isn’t one. But there is the corner of the envelope peeking out of your pocket. Fuck.

“Just uh…something I found” you say, hoping your answer would satisfy him.

“Can I see?” he rolls his eyes.

You hesitate for a second, quickly running through the outcomes of showing him the secret you had inherited from him. He could be embarrassed, he could feign ignorance and claim it’s not his – that it just fell into a box of his stuff.

You take it out and hand it over to him. His eyes fall down to study it, eyebrows knit together as he recalls the moving pictures. He runs a hand over his mouth and it falls to his side again before his eyes dart to yours to see what you’re thinking.

“I, um” he clears his throat, his Adams apple bouncing up and down in his throat as he does.

“It’s okay, Joel” you smile reassuringly.

“Yeah, no. I-“ he shifts his weight on his heavy boots.

You stand and run a hand down his arm not wanting him to become uncomfortable about it. Because he shouldn’t be. It’s an acceptable activity. You start to walk away from him towards the stairs with the smile very much settled on your face now.

“This what you were smilin’ at?” his voice comes from behind you as you leave him along in the kitchen.

________

The hot water of the shower blasts away all the dust and fluff that gathered on you on your journey to declutter. It feels like a weight has been lifted, as you mentally check the day’s activity off your to do list. While you throw on an oversized t-shirt and a pair of underwear for bed, you think about your discovery. You didn’t think he was too embarrassed, but you do assume that it’s something neither of you will bring up again.

When you step out of the bathroom, Joel has already changed out of jeans and flannel shirt and swapped them for his usual sleep outfit of a tank top and heather gray boxer briefs that both hug his muscular body. He sits on the edge of the bed, one leg resting on it and his other foot planted to the floor. The only light on in the room is the lamp on your beside table as you make your way over to your side and sit back against the headboard, taking your pot of moisturizer from the drawer of the nightstand and begin applying it to your calves.

Joel hasn’t moved an inch. When you glance at him his lips are pursed as he combs his fingers back and forth through his moustache, eyes focused on nothing in particular ahead of him. Your intention wasn’t to embarrass him, but maybe you had.

Screwing the lid of your body cream back on and tucking it back into the drawer, you attempt to spark up a conversation about the whole affair but he beats you to it.

“Think we should watch it?” he mutters into his fingers, his gaze still targeted ahead of him.

Your brows raise at the question. This was taking a different route than you had mapped out for yourself.

“Do you want to watch it?” you counter.

“I mean. If you want to y’know, I just-“ he swallows hard. “Haven’t seen it in years” he explains, his voice is unsteady, like he’s trying to convince himself of the idea.

Shit. It must be that good. All five minutes of it. Of course there’s no denying it – you’re curious. he knows what’s on that DVD and you don’t – it could be anything. And the earlier idea of making new memories is more appealing now than ever. He wants to share it with you.

“Put it in” you smile.

He gets up to and inserts the DVD into the side of the TV – a feature that you had never really used for anything other than rewatching movies that had grown to be a comfort to you on a bad day.

He resumes his position, sitting on the bed bent forward with one elbow resting on his knee while the other holds the remote. You brace yourself, sitting back against your pillows. He scrolls through the output options and selects DVD from the menu. With one final look over his shoulder at you, he presses play.

Immediately after the rated R disclaimer, overly enthusiastic moans blare from the speakers. A blonde woman dressed in a flimsy white nurse outfit that stops just above the knee appears. The camera pans down her legs to show off her matching white lace stockings. The next clip has her on her back on a gurney, legs spread open wide as she plays with herself. She’s interrupted by another actor, dressed in a lab coat. You can see where this is going…

Joel is completely focused on the screen, eyes are narrowed and his teeth terrorize his bottom lip. It’s difficult to tell if he’s enjoying it or not.

Meanwhile, the next clip has started. The nurse has shed all her clothes apart from her stockings and the doctors face is buried in her pussy. It’s unclear if she’s having a good time either. Her expression looks forced and you can’t see a thing he’s doing for the back of his head – you find yourself unable to compare his technique to Joel’s. Before you know it, she’s bent over and he’s pumping in and out of her from behind.

It’s all jump cuts - from scene to seedy scene and gratuitous oohs and aahs echo through the bedroom. Then she’s on top, after that she’s on her knees as the doctor stands above her as she moans something along the lines of give it to me. And right before the money shot – the DVD stops.

Joel leans back on the bed as the movie returns to the DVD menu that’s similar in design to the front of the disc. You’re not a porn connoisseur, but you’ve indulged enough to know that that was not quality viewing. You wouldn’t class it as sexy, just rough and ready. There’s no plot, no story and no happy endings for anyone. It’s just…porn.

“So what was your favorite part?” you question him, eager to know just why it showed so much wear and tear on the shiny plastic of the back of it.

He shakes his head. “Dunno” he sighs. He’s disappointed; his viewing experience wasn’t like he remembered it to be. Maybe there were too many people present to enjoy it.

“But you must have liked it before”

“Before, yeah” he agrees and lays down fully on his back beside you.

“Why? What was your favorite part?” he probes you now.

“I kinda liked it when she was on top of him”

“That right?” he turns his head towards you, ears pricking at your admission. “Why’s that?”

“You know why, Joel”

“No I don’t, baby. Gonna need you to explain that to me real good” he drawls, reaching over to grab your leg and maneuver you on top of his hips in a swift movement.

His palms run up and down your thighs that spread wide across his waist. You feel him becoming stiff underneath you already. The feeling of it and image of him broad, and willing beneath you is enough to send a warmth to your pussy.

“C’mon, now. Tell me” he pleads.

“Can feel it better”

“Feel what better?”

Fed up of waiting for clarification, his fingertips slide underneath the fabric of your underwear and you jolt as they brush over your clit, travelling down to part you. He licks his lips as your slick coats their skin. Slowly, you start to rock against the heel of his palm, evoking a high pitched moan at his touch. He stares up at you, eyelids heavy with lust over brown eyes as he watches you move at your own speed, allowing you to take what you need.

“Feel this better?” he rasps as his middle finger slips into you.

“Yeah” you breathe, leaning on his toughened chest for support as you vary your movements, alternating between up and down and back and forth, keen to feel as much of him as possible.

His ring finger enters you next and the sudden fullness makes you gasp but the stretch is wonderful. But it’s not long before the heat of both of you grows to be too much for him. He removes his hand and pushes at your sides so you stand above him. You can see the patch of gray material that’s become a darker shade around his leaking tip that’s been confined to his underwear.

He’s quick to remedy it though – pulling down your underwear and his before lowering you back down on top of him, only straightening back up for a second to pull your t-shirt over your head. You bend forward to wrap your hands around his neck he raises his head slightly to meet your mouth for a hungry kiss. It’s fiery and uncoordinated – all teeth and tongue but you both meet each other's deep moans at the sensation.

His fingers dig and curl themselves into the hair at the back of your head while you start to slide your slick folds along the thick length of his cock, the smooth head of it making a delicious contact with your aching clit.

“Can you cum like this, darlin’?” he wonders, purring into your neck while his hands slither down your ribcage to knead your breasts.

Instead of an answer, you raise up off him to anchor yourself with your knees either side of his hips and rest your hands on his shoulders, pinning him in place to feel the friction of his bare cock against your clit. His hands travel to the curve of your ass to guide you along.

“God” you pant. “Yeah, Joel” you warn him as that spark begins to ignite in your abdomen.

You push your hips harder into him, desperately chasing your orgasm now. The growing heat of it creeps up your back and he swipes the hair out of your face to see your eyes tighten and your mouth fall open when it finally crashes over you and you’re left breathless, pulsing on his cock.

Joel lets you catch your breath for a minute, calloused fingertips skating over the soft skin of your back as you recover from your release.

“Think you can take me? It’s okay if you can’t” he cups your jaw to look at him.

You steady your breathing. He’s not done yet, despite his cotton tank top that’s ridden half way up his stomach growing damp with sweat as it clings to his torso. Tiny pebbles of it forming on his forehead. And truthfully, you weren’t finished yet either. Not with him under you like this –still leaking against his belly – needy.

He offers you his hand to help you position yourself over him, knowing your legs aren’t to be trusted after moments ago. His free hand wraps around his cock, holding it steady for you to slide onto. Inch by inch it stretches and fills you, your soft walls encasing him. He grunts through gritted teeth, head pushes back into the mattress once he bottoms out. It takes a second for you to adjust to this new fullness.

“Jesus, baby. Fuck” he hisses as you slowly start to rock, bodies finding a synchronized rhythm.

Every time your hips rise and sink back down on him the head of his cock hits that spot at front. He’d asked, but you couldn’t articulate why it feels better. Joel can only watch as with each bounce you become a little bit more breathless and your movements a little less graceful trying to angle him perfectly below you. You’re lost in all of it; the filthy slick sounds, the vibrations of his deep hums and the swell of him inside you.

He interprets it well, you think when he brings his hand to his mouth to lick his thumb and starts to massage your clit with the soaking pad of it. He applies enough pressure to draw you dangerously close to another orgasm.

This picture of Joel through bleary eyes writhing below you is more sinful than anything your mind had created when you imagined him watching that DVD by himself. The lamp throwing light from behind him highlights the flexing muscles in each bicep and forearm as they work to hold you. The speed of his chest rising and falling faster underneath his tank top that is virtually stuck to him like another layer of skin is mouthwatering. You did that – not a DVD. The thought of that alone coaxes another tidal wave of pleasure to rip through every nerve ending. There’s no energy left to scream, you only manage a choked cry through a dry mouth while the aftershocks of it cause you to clench around his thickness.

Your body hangs heavy over him as he moves his hands to grip the meat of your ass, lifting you ever so slightly and begins to thrust at his desired pace. The veins and tendons in his neck bulge as he pistons in and out of you, hunting for his own orgasm. With every stab his fingers dig deeper into your skin.

“Hmm. Fuck” he curses and whines, air puffing from his flared nostrils as it hits him.

You feel him spill inside you, its heat coats you. One hand leaves your ass to push your shoulder back, signaling you to sit back and be fast about it.

“N-no. I’m not done” he warns and dips his waist to pull himself out of you. Another two ropes spray over your lower belly and drips down your thighs. Your heavy eyes widen at the sight of it, skin burning at the feeling of it, taking you both by surprise.

You collapse on top of him and lay your head on his shoulder. His heart is hammering against his sternum but yours is matching it beat for beat. Both of your bodies are spent, only focused on stabilizing your breaths in a rooms that feels likes it’s starved of oxygen. Your earlier shower was futile you think as you lie messy on top of him.

“Maybe we can watch something you like next time” he heaves a deep, satisfied breath.

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller one shot #joel x reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal characters #tlou fic

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1-49 · 1 month

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hotter than your instincts

pairing: f!reader × chanyoung ⁝ tags: nighttime. trains. angst. lack of confidence. pining. jealous/obsessive tendencies. 1.3k

No matter how much you come to his mind, you aren’t his. Train in, train out... Night in, night out. The girl who rides the 10 p.m. train every day.

Concrete platforms, tiled walls, and lights that look like they could go out at any time add to the ominous atmosphere. Pretty much just lone winds blowing between entrances at these hours; hardly any trains. It is hard not to notice you in such brutality.

There is nothing more to explain his gradual transition from morning to evening swimming lessons than his intense desire to keep running into you. That he is taking such a big risk with his serious forte is absurd.

Tonight of all nights, he’s sitting the closest he has ever sat to you, so it seems as though he is most vulnerable to the ‘here we go agains’ and the ‘I won’t give into my own dreams & wishes,’ but he is unable to avoid them. From the other side of the bench, he can sense your breath and imagine your lips meeting his for that fleeting moment before ur head turns to divert attention to the train approaching from the far & opposite platform.

Save for a few shy smiles & acknowledgements of his presence, you never say anything to him. Your eyes never remain locked for longer than necessary, & ur hands never come into contact.

In actuality, though, Chanyoung doesn’t require much since he loves your silence. Seemingly mysterious & cool, but mostly, he loves the way your quietness sounds, just like his.

But then the ‘how could he ever possibly get to yous’ start to creep in, knowing full well that there’s always ‘that’ other guy on the other end of the line. The guy who’s waiting for you and to whom you belong. The guy who stays in your heart forever and always calls to check on you while you’re returning home. The guy who stays on the phone every night to hear about your joys and your sorrows equally. Anton knows he can’t compete with that.

Watching the last trains of the day pass by while you two sit in silence is strangely soothing—that is, until you get that phone call.

Night in, night out. In those moments, all the subterranean beauty blurs, and his chest gets bruised. His most beautiful smile fades away, and he’s only left to wonder what it would have been like if you were his girlfriend.

Everything feels so empty and miserable when you’re on that nightly-clockwork call with him at 10:10 p.m. and Chanyoung is there, supposed to hold it through.

You’re the reason why he’s clenching his fist so hard inside his hoodie and his nails are digging into his flesh.

Given his adorable and compassionate nature, it’s difficult to envision him harboring negative thoughts. But there it is again, another glimpse of him beating his fist against a concrete wall, because how many phone calls from ‘him’ does Chanyoung really need to count to be certain he will never have a chance with you?

That you cause his heart to race like a train, and his hands to shake, you will never know. And as he listens to your talk, it is as though he’s running off the tracks.

“Sorry, babe, think my phone’s dying.”

???? He finds it difficult to believe what you are saying, and it almost sounds like something out of his fantasies. A fantasy in which he’s strong enough to control the things that hurt his heart, but in actuality, he isn’t.

However, you sigh visibly & end the call, looking at your phone’s screen and probably checking the battery... What if tonight is finally the night the universe is on his side?

Your eyes move from your phone to your feet, then to the empty train tunnel, and then to him. It’s unimaginable that you’re now considering him worthy of a cursory glance.

He looks down at his feet shyly, and his bangs start to slide more into his eyes as he fixes his gaze on the floor. If only he had more courage.

But as soon as you announce, “We’ve been taking the same train every day,” out of nowhere, his gaze lifts to meet you right away, and even if he’s surprised, his empathetic eyes stay glazed with hope.

With a smile on his face, he murmurs, “Yes,” the purest, softest ‘yes’ to ever be spoken.

That he likes to think you can love him all raw and exposed is foremost a dream. But a dream that becomes real as it’s written all over his face, and one that, had you not been so blindly in love, would have been so evident.

As he ponders whether to say anything at all or to stay silent, you smile at him.

And because of you, every butterfly he owns is now trying to pull away from his core. He finds himself wishing he had a plan on how to make his dream of you come true, but he is caught unprepared.

You randomly comment, “I like your shirt,” while pointing teasingly at the undershirt he is wearing. But seriously, who puts themselves on their shirt?

From the tone in your voice, he believes if there had been another choice, you’d prefer his shirt off, not on. Still, it’s a moron nightmare!

“Oh, that...” Chanyoung remarks, along with a little, warm laugh that escapes his fragile, flustered lips as he zips up his hoodie, completely forgetting what his friends at the pool made him wear today after he lost a bet. At least he has your attention, even though the whole thing makes him look like a total fool.

“Cute,” you say as your thumbs poke through the holes in your knit sweater’s sleeve. “Not everyone has a high fashion sense,” you add in response, making another cuteful compliment.

Again, perhaps he’d have known how to react to that if he hadn’t been so bashful and innocent. Therefore, all he responds with is a smile.

The small talk quickly dies down as a result. A new silence descends.

The kind of quiet where your faint smile and your silence hang over him like an anchor, but instead of letting him drown, you ground him.

What if he is only good for this? Sitting on the other end of the bench and yearning for you silently? If he had no competition, though the situation would be ideal.

But this is beyond his control, isn’t it?

Your gaze darts to the departure board as you sort through your forgotten thoughts that never meet the tip of your tongue. The train seems to be running a little over two minutes late. Chanyoung gives you another shy glance through his bangs. And when you pull the raw skin off your lips, continuing the seconds and sucking nervous umm’s between your teeth, you cause his heart to twist between his ribs. You have no mercy!

The train you’re both riding on speeds through the tunnel at this same instant, making matters worse before he has a chance to say anything more—not that he believes he’d have anyway. The sound of thunder rumbles across the tracks, and he opens his mouth to scream, but nothing comes out...

Once more, the train entirely crashes into his dream... Blurry fragments scatter all around.

The train’s engine is huffing and the wheels are churning out a steady rhythm of his ‘please don’t leave me, please don’t leave me,’ as you say an unfazed, “Here he is,” as the train pulls into the platform. To believe you are selfish would be to underestimate his love & kindness for you.

It’s absolutely bizarre—the way, for yet another night in a row, he’s blaming the guy in your phone for everything and the fact that you two aren’t together. You have ruined him in every rational way. His sound ideas and beliefs have long been tainted. Between tenderness & love, the lust of all blurs the boundaries...

As you rise from the bench, the feeling of muscle memory coats him in your toxins—your sweet toxins—an odour he’s so fond of, so impossible to resist.

He is coaxed by you, for you—and despite his intense desire to be close to you, to be in your presence, to laugh and run through these platforms & eerie train halls holding your hand inside his, reality appears to be telling him something quite different. Something he is unwilling to hear, even though he knows it.

#riize #riize x reader #anton x reader #lee chanyoung #riize x y/n #riize scenarios #riize imagines #anton x y/n #riize angst #anton angst #chanyoung x reader #anton scenarios #anton imagines #riize fic #riize fanfic #riize x you #anton fanfic

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chosos-mascara · 2 years

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summer

𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣 𝙮𝙚𝙖𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 - you and eren don't want to start college as virgins.

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 - smoking, make-out, dry humping, PiV, virginity loss, smut with a story

minors + ageless dni 5k words

Twelve months ago, the last exam had taken place. The day a weight was lifted graciously from the shoulders of the students around you, a day freedom was cast. No longer would you waste nights cramming, or evenings exhausted on subjects you'd cared little about, when they'd have been better spent with friends. This, was where life would begin. Adulthood was on the horizon, so close you could taste it.

A job, good money, no more worries over assessment, homework, or extra-curricular activities (at least, for a little while). A gap year of dreams you were taking alongside your best friend, one you'd meticulously planned with one another, details confirmed as if already experienced. The pair of you had celebrated, a parade of final good-byes to friends leaving for university, drinks to commemorate the past years of your life, and the future yet to participate within. You'd spoken with them too, of the ideologies, the great expectations of the next three-hundred-and-sixty-five days, leaving behind deadlines for nights out, visualizing flashing lights and bass boosted music through intoxication. This was the start of your twenties, after all.

But sometimes, through the consumption of media, we glorify things, scenes from movies blurred with that of real life. Sadly, these experiences do not occur for the average person. Eren and yourself, in particular, working shifts and going home to sleep, were a part of that majority.

Working was dull and unfulfilling, draining energy from you as if you'd been a mere battery in need of a recharge following an eight-hour shift, too tired to do much else. The year of greatness had come and gone, and nothing had changed other than the cycle of four seasons, of which you'd worked on auto-pilot for minimum wage. A soulless stacking of shelves.

The prospect of working along-side your best friend had been appealing in concept, though in actuality it had consisted of working on opposite ends of the store, only able to fit in a mediocre glance while passing one another. On occasion, the pair of you would be rewarded with a break spent in the other's presence. Though as time had progressed, it had become another monotonous part of the day, because it was another half-hour spent in the confides of the workplace, around colleagues twice your age with half the amount of wit, and motivation. More often than not, you'd worked alternating shifts all-together, and despite the fact you'd barely seen one another during working hours, those eight-hours were still harder to get through without him.

Armin was a three hour train journey, Mikasa a plane ride, and everyone else from school had been dotted throughout the country. Just as the pair of you had envisioned the gap year, your peers had plans for university too, intentions to return home once a month for catch-ups and drinks. These, much like your schemes, did not occur. It was more due to the fact they'd moved on with their lives - another rub in the face that the pair of you were still in the same place a year on.

Despite the lack of development surrounding your circumstances, Eren had changed. The differences had become more apparent, now - brown hair longer and tied into a messy bun, biceps peeking from the black uniform shirt had grown in size, as had he. The two of you frequented one another's homes, though the time would be spent playing games or watching movies. Conversations didn't happen too often, and wouldn't stray far from the topic of work. Though, you'd accepted the fact he wasn't a kid anymore, and most likely hadn't been interested in your babbles - not that he wasn't aware of every detail of your life anyway. You'd worked at the same place, lived a few doors down; your lives were practically carbon copies.

The last shift the pair of you would work at what had become an unremarkably repetitive part of life had passed, and you'd been relieved to part with the job. Every minute of the last stretch was one minute closer to the start of summer, the freedom of unemployment and transition back into student-life. A parallel you hadn't expected a year ago. Now, you walked side-by-side, just as you had on the last day of school.

Eren placed a cigarette to lips; a habit he'd picked up from his older brother's visits. Inhaling, amber burned inches from his face, the light dimming as he pulled the stick from his mouth to exhale a cloud of smoke. Late afternoon was turning to evening around you, but the sun was still warming on your skin, crickets singing in the patches of grass slotted between tree and pavement.

It was peaceful. The nostalgia of older times pottering back from school had followed you, simpler times that you'd shared with your friends. The first walk home from work had been so bizarre, turning the road without Mikasa and Armin trailing behind. This stroll home would be the last spent in his presence - Eren had a license now. He'd be driving the pair of you to university in a few months, though you questioned each vision that had come to your mind, because this year had let you down - who's to say upcoming ones wouldn't, too?

Closing on on your street, you'd peered over the familiar wooden door, chipped brick wall separating street from garden. Reaching a hand out, your fingers rested over the latch of the iron gate, paint peeling to reveal the orange of rust beneath. "See ya." A tired voice spoke, moving eyes from the tarmac beneath your shoes to meet his green irises, of which had been scanning over you in contemplation. A final puff of smoke left his lips while he'd flicked the butt behind him, leaving it to fall somewhere in the road. You waited for his good-bye, but as a few moments passed, you'd assumed a simple glance was all you were going to get.

"My parents are away tonight. Wanna stay?" Eren questioned, abruptly. Movements halted as he'd spoken, you turned from halfway down the stone path to look over your shoulder. It had been a while since the pair of you'd had a sleepover. Over the past few months, you'd spent no more than a few measly hours together before the other would return home for food or sleep. But, the glint in the glint in his eye was one you'd recognized from childhood - as if he'd asked you to come play for the first time again.

"Yeah, okay." You replied with indifference, though within your chest your heart had picked up pace, excitement coursing through fatigued bones as the prospect of old times wondered over you. You'd cursed yourself for hoping for anything more than the lousy gaming sessions you'd shared over the past month, but his expression had enlightened a glimmer within you that you couldn't shake.

Rushing inside to shower, you were focused on anything other than the water running over you, instead pondering over the evening ahead. Perhaps you'd find courage to ask him what you'd really wanted to, instead of shallow small-talk. Honesty shared between you, just like you'd used to be with one another.

Cramming clothes into a bag, a charger, a toothbrush, you deemed yourself ready, before long at his door. Hand raised, fist balled, knocking and waiting. Footsteps echoed through his hall, ones that brought a feeling into your stomach as you listened to him approaching you, lock turning. The old oak crept open, revealing your friend behind it, a loose fitted white t-shirt, relaxed black trousers, bare foot. "Hey." Greeting him, a smile on your face, bag slung over your shoulder.

Eren didn't reply, simply stepping back to allow you space to enter his home. You tread through, throwing your bag down in the usual spot, in the corner of the hall. "I got pizza." He stated, walking toward the kitchen. You followed him with your eyes as you'd taken off your shoes, finally trailing behind once they'd been placed neatly alongside his. Floorboards creaked beneath you while you'd passed through the narrow landing, through the unpainted door frame.

Two boxes, one open with a few slices missing, the other still folded shut, sat on the old stained table housed in the corner of the room. Opening the box had revealed a pizza you'd gotten many times before, one you'd considered a favourite. "You did good." You smiled, picking a piece up and taking a bite, glancing up to meet green eyes. He was leaning back against the table, arm folded over the other. He'd always worn a brooding look, one you used to pride yourself on reading, though with age you'd become less able to figure out what was going on inside of his head. "Not hard to remember the thing you always order." He commented, a bite being taken shortly after, an awkward silence airing between you disrupted by quiet chewing sounds. Once he'd finished the slice, he grabbed a remote, turning on the small TV that his mother had situated high on the wall, a source of entertainment in the small, dated kitchen for when she'd had to spend a few hours cooking a meal.

Memories of childhood with the Yeager family flooded through your thoughts, his mother's warming personality when you'd come in from the old outdoors, usually in tears after being picked on by her son. At first, yourself and the blonde had been closest, though with age you'd grown a backbone, no longer giving into Eren's teasing. Once this had occurred, the four of you got long well, a good balance between teasing and empathy, each part bringing their own qualities to mix within the group. Without them, the house had felt a little empty. You'd wondered how Eren had felt, losing what had been like a sister to him as she'd gone to study far from her adopted home.

Sounds of a game show had filled the space, replacing stale silence with soft chatter and laughter. You'd continued to eat, mind wondering while you were perched on the rickety chair, elbows on the table, eyes on the contestants. The brunette paced to the fridge, shoving the crust of a slice into his mouth as he pulled two cans from a shelf, placing them on the table before finally taking a seat - though over halfway through his meal.

"I can't believe we're done." You spoke through chewing, peeling your gaze from the small television to your friend, who'd been hunched over his own box. His eyes remained on the cardboard until he was done with his mouthful, finally flickering up to meet you after swallowing. "Thank fuck, couldn't stand that place." Eren spoke, bitterness raking through his voice as he'd recalled the past year of his life. He too had wished for better experiences, and was left with one of the worse years of his life. "It wasn't that bad." Disagreeing with him was something you'd often done, though as his stare hardened, you fought the urge to take back the words you'd spoken. "What're you talking about? Every day we were just hamsters on a wheel, just fulfilling meaningless tasks without question." The passion you'd heard him express many times before radiated through the words he'd spoken, brow furrowing as he'd looked over you in disgust.

You shrugged, looking down at the food in front of you once more, uncomfortable in the way he'd studied you. Although he was hard to read, his hatred was not. When Eren was angry, it was as apparent as the sky was blue. It had most likely been down to the fact his features had already been so cold, but when he was annoyed, the distaste ran through his expression.

"It was always temporary," You picked at the crusts you'd left in the box, prodding them as if to distract yourself from the male before you. "So, it didn't bother me." Voice timid, you surrendered your own argument, a weak defense as you'd wished upon the conversation coming to an end. "You back down too easy." He'd spoken the words under his breath, tearing his food with his teeth as his mouth was stuffed full. You chose not to fight back, maybe as young teenagers you would've bitten the bait, but now, you had little interest in debating with him. Though, this was most likely a positive, as Mrs Yeager wasn't here to come to your defence if her son kicked off at you.

She'd always been there, even when your parents hadn't been. She'd even housed Eren's brother despite him not being her own, and had been some what delinquent through his years. He encouraged the worst out of her son, but she supported him nonetheless. When you'd questioned her over the decision, she'd simply told you he'd needed a home, just as Mikasa had.

"Wanna smoke?" Eren asked, closing the now empty container before him, standing and brushing the crumby fingers down trouser legs. He wondered to the countertop, grabbing the carton and lighter he'd left there, glancing over to you as he made his way to the back door.

The sun was setting, you could see the amber glow through the gaps in the blinds, peering through to the garden. You stood, meeting him at the half-opened door, following through to sit on well-kept grass. It was always short, littered with daisies, bordered with stones and soil housing a few varieties of flowers. Nothing spectacular, but it'd had a homely feel. Another aspect of his house that had been unchanged since the day you'd first stepped foot within it.

The air was still warm on your sun-kissed skin, a faint hum of music playing a few doors down, most likely that of a garden party. There had been the scent of a barbecue too, one that had always reminded you of summer evenings like this. Eren lit his cigarette, tilting the box to you, allowing you to take one. You pulled one out, placing it between your lips, allowing him to lean toward you and bring the flame to kiss the end of the stick, innately sucking in. The familiar orange glow, a breath in and out.

"Still going to the same college?" You asked, though aware of the answer. He nodded, closing heavy eyes as he exhaled. "Can't get rid of me yet." Eren's voice was low, lids opening to let orbs wonder over the fence surrounding the small corner of the world you'd resided in, one he'd be able to recall blindfolded. You were sure you could, too.

"Do you think," You began with hesitance, watching a bee land a few feet in front of you, mingling in a buttercup. The insect collected a small amount of pollen, flying to the next flower. "-things will change?" The question left your lips, some worry within your voice, as you remained fixated upon the show before you, on the small creature conducting its way of life; fullfilling its purpose. With this, you'd wondered if you were satisfied within your objectives. Maybe everything would be simpler if the two of you had been born another species.

"Doubt it, they didn't after high-school, did they?" His reply was apethetic, and somewhat confusing. Things had changed, maybe he'd been oblivious to that, too caught up within his own mind to think about those surrounding him. "A lot has changed, Eren. Your sister moved countries, Armin has gone off to do some fancy degree-" You spouted, though the vent had been cut short by the slightly louder voice dominating the conversation.

"We haven't changed, though." He brought the cigarette to his lips once more, and as the tip illuminated his face, you'd realised how quickly the sun had set. It'd been minutes, but a curtain had still fallen over the garden, night nearing. The bee you'd peered over was now gone, most likely making its way back to the colony.

"Guess not." You replied, for the first time that evening you'd actually agreed with a statement. It had felt as if the pair of you had lagged behind your friends over the past year - they were all done with their first year of university, and yet, you were in the same place you'd been since high-school.

"Talking to anyone?" You asked between drags, the cigarette burning a little too close to your fingertips. The question made your chest tighten, anxiety rising as you'd awaited the response. You hadn't known why - he was free to see anyone he'd pleased, though deep within the confides of your brain had been a tinge of jealousy whenever you'd pictured him with another. Most likely a sisterly instinct, as you'd grown alongside him, though you'd been unable to deny your small crush on your childhood friend.

Eren never appeared to respond with his body language, only words. It made interactions with him a little stressful, as there had been no way in which one could predict what he'd say before the words were pulled from his chest. You'd simply had to await the response.

"Nah. You?" He replied, to which you'd shaken your head, finally parting with the burning paper between your fingers, flicking the nub to the other side of the garden. Sighing, your back hit the grass beneath you, gaze moving to the sky above. There was a deep blue painted overhead, a glow from the newly risen moon, stars dotting the canvas with a bright burn. The lawn was cooling over the skin on your back, arms situating themselves beneath your head, tickled with the nature under your skin. Eren mirrored your actions, the warmth of his body grazing yours as he laid beside you. He was longer than you, but he'd positioned his head to sit beside yours, to see what you'd seen.

"Do you feel like everyone's moving through life but us?" You inquired, tracing the small white glows to search for constellations - though you hadn't been too sure on what you were looking for. "Sometimes, yeah." Eren's voice was soothing, but you'd felt your stomach churn as he shifted beside you, a reminder of how close the pair of you had been laying. His tone was something you'd wished to hear more, longing to spend more time like this, alone with the world.

"Can I tell you something?" You'd been aware your continued questioning had probably held some annoyance to him, though within the moment, you'd felt at ease. The dynamic between the pair of you had complimented one another; you would talk, and he would listen. Others may assume his lack of dialogue had been due to disinterest, though you'd understood it was simply because he'd had little to say.

"Go ahead." He spoke, a sigh escaping his lips as you opened yours, curving them into an embarrassed smile as you spoke; "I'm still a virgin." Admitting your secret had left a tense strain over your mood, a small giggle erupting from the silence as if to aid the strain. The lack of response from your friend had left a bad taste, and with hesitance, you turned your head, praying that the impassive expression you were met with would reveal something of use. "Really?" Eren had sounded intrigued, though manner still cold. "Yeah, kinda pathetic, right?" An exhale had replaced the awkward laugh, though as he hadn't mirrored the innate response, you grew concerned over the topic.

Sex, and relationships, hadn't been something you'd discussed with him for some time. He'd assumed you'd delve into such thoughts with Mikasa, likely sparing no detail as she'd been forced to listen to one of your unforgiving rants - yourself assuming he'd boasted about under-cover experiences with his male friends.

"Sorry," Exhaling, you brought a hand to temple, face screwing up as you'd mentally cringed at the discourse. "Was that too deep?" The relationship between you had been a little hard to understand, and you'd been unsure where boundaries had laid. At times, it was as if the two of you were strangers, though evenings like this, he'd felt at one with you.

"Nah." His reply was late, allowing you to mentally fuss over the stillness following your admission, awaiting a response. "I am, too." He'd mentioned nonchalantly, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. It'd made sense - the pair of you were rarely out without the other, but with Eren's appearance and charm, it was questionable.

"Oh." There had been difficulty formulating a response other than the small sound you'd made, and you'd recognised the discomfort he must've felt when the subject had been introduced to begin with. "Well, at least I won't be the only one in college with a v-card." An attempt at light-heartedness, though again, he hadn't laughed. Instead, he let his thoughts brew until he'd formulated a comment.

"Or, we could just lose it before college." He suggested, to which, instead of an awkward giggle, a genuine exhale of amusement passed through your parted lips. "How do you suppose we do that?" You moved the hand that had rested at your forehead to reside on your chest, the other arm still supporting your head. "Might be easy for you, but no guy would wanna fuck me." The response was solemn, even if you hadn't intended it to be. It's not that you had doubts within yourself; it was your confidence had let you down when it had come to an interest in a member of the opposite sex.

"God, you're so thick at times." He sighed, mentally cursing as you'd furrowed your brow, turning to him in annoyance to question what he'd meant, but before the words could spill from you, his lips were pressing against yours.

The movement had left you in shock, eyes open, his face atop yours. Though, as he lingered on you, adjusting to support himself with his forearm, the realization sunk in. After analysing the situation, riding out the wave of surprise, your lips moved in synchrony. The taste of burnt tobacco had radiated between the pair of you, a small hint of pizza, though mostly, the flavour you'd focused yourself on had been him. With a decade of friendship, you hadn't imagined yourself able to do this - to taste him. Though now the permission had been granted, you didn't want to stop. The way his lips danced with yours had felt as if you were made for one another, mouths created purely to accompany their counterpart.

The action had ignited a swirl in the pit of your stomach, radiating desire through you, to create a pulling between your legs. One you'd felt during fleeting moments of self-pleasure, though this had been the first time an action of intimacy had created the sensitivity. Eren's nose bumped with yours, a string of spit building between the two of you, a sheen over lips, though ignored. His skin felt smooth as you'd ran your fingers across his cheek to cup his face within hand, adjusting the arm that had been a pillow to your tired head to rest at the back of his head, intertwining his hair between digits.

He hummed as you'd lightly pulled at his hair, sinking his head lower with yours to deepen the kiss, while you'd tugged at the strands at the nape of his neck, fingers snug between bun and head. Eren's arms caged around your body as he pulled himself between your limbs, the summer dress you'd modeled falling upward, exposing your wettened panties to his clothed cock. You'd felt his hardness as he'd rocked himself over your slit; another feeling you'd yet to experience until now. A moan caught in your throat at the contact, hips bucking upward and legs curving to wrap around him. The kisses grew sloppier between you as the new sensation arose in the places between legs, frenzied humps against one another, a tightening in your stomach.

The eager whines from your lips fell straight into his, hands desperately clutching, tugging at his hair with maneuvre. His bulge massaged against your slit feverishly, building up a tension in your core, breaths between you manic as you shared the moment, savoring how your body had felt on his. This was something you'd never done before; you wondered if Eren had felt the same stir within the pits of his abdomen too, a tingle gracing down your arms, the tickle of the grass on your back as the frantic movements between you had caused the skirt to hike up further, exposing more skin.

A guttural moan left your chest, followed by stuttered gasps from your lips, eyes squeezing closed while your body tensed up, pathetic humps against his cock as you felt your orgasm crash over you, at an intensity you'd never felt before. The ecstasy flowing across your body hadn't been like what you'd given yourself before - it was different. You'd grasped his face tightly, a mess under him, a heat spreading across your cheeks as he'd been a bystander to the otherworldly experience you'd just had, allowing his friend to use his erection to reach her high.

When it had fizzled out, you hadn't time to flush with embarrassment, as Eren had been unbuttoning his trousers with one had, his body-weight supported by the other arm, lips ramming back onto yours. You pushed your tongue into his mouth as you pulled at your underwear, pulling away from his lips for a moment to roll the cotton down your legs, and he imitated the action, knees bare against the grass of his garden, chill hitting his exposed skin.

"Will anyone see us?" You asked, chest heaving. His green eyes meeting yours made your heart flutter, his cheeks tinted with a crimson tone as he guided his cock to sit at your slick, pumping over the shaft. "Nah, they're all old, they'll be asleep." His reassurance was half-assed as his eyes left your face, instead flicking to his cock pressed up against you, slowly teasing himself in. He exhaled, mouth hanging open as he pushed forward. You watched his guise falter, face relaxed as he felt your cunt embrace him, a whine escaping his lips at your warm walls hugging his leaking cock. The amount of friction he'd endured had almost been enough to have him come in his boxers, though he resisted the urge.

After pushing himself into you fully, his gaze flickered down to yours. A smirk played at his lips as he glanced over your blissful demeanor, expression soft as you'd watched him through half-lidded eyes. "Does 't hurt?" He questioned, pulling halfway out before easing back into you. Your breath was shaky as you exhaled, eyes locked with his. "A little." You commented, voice wavering. His movements were slow, gentle pants falling from him as he moved in and out of you with ease. Your tired eyes rolled back, back arching off of the lawn as pain turned to pleasure. Eren took that as a signal you were okay, and sped up, hands gripping at your thighs. It was hard to hold himself back from cumming during the first few moments; the way you'd clenched around him had his dick in heaven, biting his lips to contain moans he'd felt rising through him. He'd only had his hand for the past twenty years, a pussy had felt a thousand times better, tight yet soft, made for his cock to fuck.

You were whining under him, the top of your head kissing the ground as you'd arched back upward in pleasure, your fingers fining their way to circle over your clit. He watched you contort for him, gritting his teeth at the display, fighting the urge within him to just shoot his seed inside you. He'd wanted to fill the virgin pussy with cum, but he'd resisted, unable to allow this to end so quickly. Eren wanted to savor this moment he'd had with you, to watch your body move with his, his cock taken in by your warmth.

Coarse hands gripped at your hips, a cacophony of stuttered breaths and mewls played a synchrony of sounds, an orchestra made up of two. The way he'd held you, how he had loomed over you, the fact you were his first, were all things you'd be unable to forget. His face fixed on you, pleasure written across his features, burned into your mind. This was something only yourself and Eren would share.

"Eren-" His name fell from your lips, another swipe across your sensitive clit, his fingers squeezing the fat of your thighs tighter, until he'd had to halt altogether to stop himself from cumming. You continued to rub regardless, panting and circling your hips, stuttered humps as you worked yourself up again, clenching, tensing, pulling over his member. He groaned, the small motions from your pussy keeping him seconds from spilling. "Inside?" Only half of the question left his lips, thighs clenching to stop his orgasm. "Can I cum inside?" He was reduced to a murmur of words, a mostly incoherent sentence, though your frantic nodding had been enough permission, and he was slamming his hips into yours once more, a loud moan leaving his lips as his chest rose and fell, grunts erupting from his chest. You'd come undone too, for the second time, his name the only thing on your mind as you'd clenched around him, repeating the syllables over, and over.

He lingered for a moment, tracing a thumb over your cheek and pulling out, a warmth dribbling from the hole he'd just evacuated as his seed left you, too. An unfamilliar sensation, though knowing it'd been from him had created a new feeling within you, one familiar to that of arousal, mingling with a sense of accomplishment. A smile crept across your face as he pulled his trousers upward, laying beside you once more. You straightened out the creases of your dress, pulling it over your knees, goosebumps prickling over you as the heat of the moment had died down, cool air over you again.

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screams-in-writing · 24 days

Text

This starts out reading as a more horror-esque story, before Mr. Puzzles is found to just be bad at personal space and that phasing into one’s home is frowned upon (I think this is even longer than the other one I posted. I am having fun).

Your roommates were at their respective family homes, which left you all alone during a raging thunderstorm. A storm that lit the house with flashes of intermittent lightning, rain coming down like a deluge, as if threatening to flood the very streets around the home.

In addition, the power had gone out not ten minutes ago, leaving you in the dark to hold onto a flashlight one of your roommates had stored in a kitchen drawer. It wasn’t the brightest shine, either, the path of the beam flickering itself, as if the battery were close to dying out. The subsequent dark of the house following the power outage, despite the light said flashlight produced, made you become acutely away of the ambient noises around you.

The basement door was ignored; you’d seen enough horror movies and games to avoid going down there like the plague. Even if you were all alone in the house, you were not going to let your mind get away from you by going to check out the electrical panel.

There was a slight thumping sound from the dining room, like someone had tripped.

Nope.

You went in the opposite direction of the noise, and began to carefully go up the stairs, an unnerving feeling of being watched settling in. The flashlight died not even three steps up. Propelled by spike of alarm that there could be someone behind you now that it was dark, you blindly raced up the stairs. Panic shot through you when you could have sworn you heard steps swiftly following up after you.

Nope. Nope nope nope.

The hallway wasn’t completely dark, thanks to a window from another room nearby that was open, allowing a vague outline to your closed bedroom door.

Telling yourself you’d checked all the doors and windows before your roommates had left for the weekend, you slam your bedroom door open. Without missing a beat, you stumble to your bed and hid under the covers of the bed like you could keep yourself hidden from whatever you thought could have followed you upstairs.

Creaking noises.

Someone was walking?

No, that was just the siding of the house being hit with the sheets rain.

A shuffling noise.

Just the rain pelting the windows.

A thump sounded in the brief silence.

That…had came from underneath your bed.

You peer out from beneath the blanket to warily peer over the side of the bed. You were met with a sheepish expression with a multi-colored smile on a tv screen staring up at you.

“Hello, my-“

In a panic, because how could there be a television on under your bed, you abruptly tossed the blanket over the tv screen. In a burst of frenzied terror, you dropped down onto the tv on your knees with a thump, making a garbling noise emit from beneath you. Further terror seized you when a pair of arms reached out from beneath the bed to upend you. Scrambling to get to your feet, you are halted by a hand seizing one of your arms. With a scream of fear you’re pulled backward into a solid chest, arms around your waist as someone held you.

A voice cut through the cacophony of rain and thunder, saying your name.

Confused, you still for just a moment, noticing the glow in the room that came from behind you. It illuminated a pair of legs on either side of you, which boxed in your upright if curled up form. A pair of familiar legs in gray pants with puzzle patterns on it, ending with black and white dress shoes. Confusion rose as you glanced down and found arms covered in a white dress shirt, gloved hands twitching when your hands settled over them.

“Mr. Puzzles?”

“The one and only!” Said with gusto, if in an out of breath way.

Right.

You’d essentially landed your knees into his face, hard.

Wait.

“Why are you in my house?” You felt Mr. Puzzles’ hands fidget under yours.

“Would you believe it is because I have nowhere else to go, when I am not at work with you or our…co-workers?” It sounded like Mr. Puzzles still wasn’t married to the idea that he needed to work with a team to get a show up and running. Possibly because it wasn’t the kind of show he was used to, in that it was podcast being taped or just audio, depending on the current money situation.

“And this brings you into my house, how?”

“…I remember where it was because it was the first place I appeared? And I wasn’t sure if a hotel would…let me in? Or if I let myself in, someone might be…very, very confused.” Mr. Puzzles offered, almost sheepishly. “And so…i may be able to do an eensy-weeny little thing-”

“Which is?” You cut in, before the man could go off on a tangent.

“…I used the old box tv still plugged into the basement and replaced it with myself before the power went out?”

So there was something to fear in the basement, though Mr. Puzzles was less terrifying than an actual burglar that might cause you harm. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t weird and rather intruding for this tv-headed man to just let himself into your and your roommates’ house.

“I take it that isn’t…done as much here, as where I’m from?” Mr. Puzzles asked into the silence, amid the storm raging on.

“No, it’s not.”

“I see.”

An awkward silence reigned briefly.

“I could go to the basement and wait for the power to turn on, if my presence is truly troubling.” That sounded like it had come through gritted teeth; impressive, for someone with a screen for a face. Like he wanted to be in the company of someone but also acknowledging, reluctantly, that being in the home of an acquaintance-almost-friend without notice or approval wasn’t the best thing to happen.

“Why did you show up to begin with. Apart from not having a place to go?” You finally clue into leaning against the man and swiftly pull away, which Mr. Puzzles quickly allowed for as he rested against a nearby wall.

“Oh, right.” Gloved fingers fidget; Mr. Puzzles suddenly looked embarrassed, screen shifting as a frown appeared, droplets of sweat shown on one upper area of the screen. “I asked for everyone’s phone numbers, to stay in touch, you see. I must admit, I was so caught up in the idea of being involved in a show again-“ In a quieter, deeper grumbling tone, “Yet not even a host of it.”

You stare at the man, who quickly ‘cleared’ his throat and continued on.

“Not that I’m not grateful for another chance.”Mr. Puzzles’ voice became clear and upbeat once more. “Why, the very thought held me in a chokehold of inspiration and it wasn’t until the end of the work day that I realized I’d forgotten to ask for your number.”

It was such an absurd thing that you had to laugh, which made Mr. Puzzles’ face shift to one as well as a laugh track mixed with his own.

“You do know you could have waited until tomorrow.” You said. “The storm is supposed to be gone by the morning.”

“You dont know why?” Mr. Puzzles reached out to grasp one of your hands.

Personal space, much?

“I wanted to thank my dear rescuer, who not only didn’t dump my prone head into a dumpster-“ Mr. Puzzles shuddered in apparent revulsion over the very idea. “But you also found me a place I could use a rather free rein of my creative expression at while getting back on my feet!”

“Free rein, meaning putting two of my arguing co-workers into your television head land or whatever while people thought they’d gone missing?” You ask dubiously as you take your hand back, though Mr. Puzzles had let go already to wave the hand dismissively.

“Schematics. One must make sacrifices for a good television show.”

“You sent one of them to therapy.” You deadpanned.

“To be fair, that fellow appeared to already be in need of such survives.” Mr. Puzzles shrugged in apparent indifference.

“Pot calling the kettle black.”

“I’m offended.” The man placed a hand over his chest, Mr. Puzzles’ screen face switching to a picture of a sat wet cat. “No one in this world could possibly handle the amount of therapy I would require, so I’m afraid coping will just have to be enough.”

“At least you’re honest about it.”

“I do try my best.” Cheerful and insincere. This man had a screw loose somewhere in that tv head of his.

A bright flash of lightning followed by a deafening rumble that shook the house.

You practically flung yourself at the nearest object for comfort, which happened to be Mr. Puzzles, who seemed confused by the sudden death-cling you held him in versus the conversation suddenly being interrupted.

“Not a fan of storms?” Mr. Puzzles asked eventually.

“What do you think?”

“…would you like me to play something for you?” Mr. Puzzles questioned in a softer tone than before.

“Like what?” You whispered.

“Well, that depends.” Mr. Puzzles tilted his head. “Would you want to watch or listen?”

“Listen.” You decided after a brief moment of thought.

“Any requests?”

Genuine. Curious.

“Nah, surprise me.”

A mistake, that.

If you hadn’t been in need of holding something alive and breathing for reassurance (how did Mr. Puzzles manage that, with his head being what it was) you might have tried to uselessly to smother the man with a pillow.

The asshole was playing a recording of the fitness gram pacer test, apparently quite happy to return the hug, as touch-starved and friendless as Mr. Puzzles made himself appear. But Mr. Puzzles redeemed himself some time later when he eventually switched over to a channel playing orchestral music that was loud enough that it dulled the noise of the storm, but not loud enough that you missed sound of something else.

With your head leaning against his chest, you heard the thumping of a heart. This man’s body was a confusing mess; a tv for a head, yet his body gave in the way a human’s did, but at times, you wondered if he was robotic. And if that was the case, were you hearing an actual heartbeat, or just the sound of one to make this impromptu holding one another for comfort in the dark less unnerving?

A thought to pursue another day.

#I typed this up on my lunch break so again phone typing mistakes possible #smg4 mr puzzles x reader #would take place earlier in the fic idea in toying with #punches the wall #this man’s got me in a creative chokehold have more writings

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ijustdontlikepeople · 2 years

Text

Obsessed with Ashton specifying that Michael is his friend in his spotify artist bio

#i get that he’s trying say that he knew Michael before the band but not luke or Calum #but the phrasing is so funny and sweet to me #ash #mikey #saucy #pairing: opposite ends of the battery

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aboxthecolourofheartache · 1 year

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box- youve got me interested in trigun but alas i have no idea what it is, pls help me understand

Oh god, my sincerest apologies ^^;;;

Trigun is a space Western and a thinly veiled allegory. It’s about a pair of twins, Knives Georg and Belts Georg, who are ideological opposites (except when they aren’t; they’re both extremists). This would be fine, except they are also insanely powerful interdimensional biological generators/space angels, making their conflict one between essentially minor gods. So they make their trauma Everybody’s Problem. One of them (Knives Georg) has set himself up as a cult leader with the intent of obliterating the human race because humans keep other, less independent, interdimensional biological generators/space angels captive as tools somewhere between Star Trek replicators and batteries. He gives this several goes, first by sabotaging humanity’s fleet of spaceships and crashing everyone onto a barren planet without resources in a painfully obvious reference to the expulsion from Eden/fall from Heaven, then by making his brother blow up a city, and lastly by stealing as many of the dependent generator angels as he can and trying to kill humanity via depravation and war crimes. His brother (Belts Georg) is a pacifist gunman who has internalized his trauma differently and does not want to obliterate humanity. In fact, he wants to stop his brother doing that, so he makes multiple badly-planned attempts to end the conflict until one of them sticks. He also lives on the run as a reviled, hated outlaw and a legend after Knives Georg made him blow up a city. The story is one long, intense interrogation of pacifism as an ideal, the consequences of taking or sparing lives, and answers the age-old questions: if nuclear bombs were sentient and afraid of exploding, could/would they love us? And: what would a traumatized angel do with a gun?

Come for the aesthetic, stay for the blatant biblical references and the gut-wrenching tragedy.

And yes, there are, in fact, three guns. One’s a species of Colt (.45 Long Colt?? I do not remember off the top of my head) or the bastard offspring of a Colt and a cinder block, the other is a prosthetic arm, and the last one is a flesh arm that’s actually a biblically inaccurate angelic energy-missile launcher. (OR they are two matching Colts and a spiritual bazooka with a bonus prosthetic arm gun. Depends on the version. As of now, Stampede (2023) only has two guns. The third is much anticipated.)

There are three versions of the story, too. The manga (personally my canon of choice, explains nothing and yeets events at you, incomprehensible fight scenes, emotionally devastating in ways the other two cannot even begin to touch), the 1998 anime (very good, made while the manga was still being written, has its own thing going on, suffers terribly from 1990s anime-itis aka bizarre sexism), and the 2023 anime (very good, mix-and-match canon that turns the timeline into pretzels, suffers from 12-episodes-long-itis with too much happening and not enough time to explore things).

#Stampede also has the MOST GLARING nephilim subplot #makin’ artificial space angel/human children #very normal very not a reference to anything nope #Box attempts Trigun

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fayes-fics · 1 year

Text

Meet Ugly

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Two walks of shame, one lost wallet and one bruised nose.… it’s the start of something

Warnings: none really… hangovers, flirting and references to a one night stand.

Word Count: 1.6k

Authors Note: This is a very belated anon request fill from October (request: I read this idea and thought of you. You would be brilliant with the Walk of Shame one). Sorry it’s taken me months to write this Nonny, I only just had an idea for how it could play out. It's probably not how you envisioned, its mostly humour/fluff, but I hope you still enjoy. I went with Anthony for this one. <3

When you wake up on your friend's sofa, head fuzzy, a mouth of cotton wool, shoes dangling precariously off your feet over the end of the sectional, you decide maybe it's time to try dry January. Never mind that it’s March; it's never too late to turn over a new leaf, you justify to yourself, staring at movement on the ceiling that you hope is a spider, not your mind playing tricks.

You know your friends, such a lovely couple, are sleeping in their bedroom; it was very kind of them to let you crash at their flat. Not that drunk-you probably gave them much choice in the matter. You can be very persuasive after a few drinks, or more accurately, belligerent in a friendly, loving way.

Sitting up gingerly, you find your phone wedged under your left hip, amazingly still with enough battery to be useable. Rather than disturb them, you decide to order an Uber home and leave a note of thanks/apology on the fridge. You quietly pad to their kitchen, pour a quick glass of water and check your reflection in a mirror over the dining nook. Remarkably, your makeup is somewhat intact, and with a few finger-pulls, even your hair is mostly presentable. It will undoubtedly do for the ride home.

Slipping out of their front door a few moments later, you don’t expect to run face-first into a solid wall of human—yet you do.

“Owww,” you exclaim reflexively, even as you detect a hint of delicious cologne.

“Watch where you are going!” a deep, very well-spoken voice grouses as if you somehow have caused them injury rather than vice versa. Then his tone seems to change as he whips around and regards you. “Oh…” is his only retort.

You reel back, rubbing your nose from the impact, and squint up at the offending party, and you are quite lost for words yourself. Beautiful brown eyes on a very handsome stubbled face. He looks a little worse for wear, much as you, but no less attractive for it. Fitted shirt and tailored trousers that look rumpled but still achingly expensive.

“Apologies,” he mumbles, “I am a beast without a coffee in my system.”

“Likewise,” you nod with a sympathetic but brief smile, still rubbing your nose as it aches.

He is blocking your way to the lift, so you raise your eyebrow expectantly, hoping he will get the hint.

“Partying too hard?” he asks with a smirk. “Because I was,” he adds self-depreciatingly.

“Perhaps.” is all you are willing to concede at the moment.

“Sorry I was in your way; I uh just left the flat of this woman,” gesturing at the door directly opposite your friend's place, “and I've just realised I've left my wallet in there. But umm, I’m not sure I want to ring the bell and ask for it to be honest,” he winces, knowing what he says sounds bad.

“Not the best of one-night stands?” you quip.

He smiles. “Not really, no. It might be easier to report it stolen than face up to my own questionable decision,” he chuckles.

“Fair,” you shrug. “So, does that mean you have no way to get home?” You make small talk as you both seem to drift towards the lift. It appears he’s made up his mind to cut his losses with the wallet.

“Well, I still have my phone in my pocket. Oh, and, I um…” he winces as if embarrassed, “I have a driver.”

“Alright, Mr money bags,” you jest.

“Yeah, I know how it sounds,” he smiles, holding his hands up in defeat, “in my defence, it’s for the good of the country that I’m not driving myself this morning.”

“You could just take the Tube or Uber like the rest of us normal people,” you point out, waving the phone you hold.

“Got a long wait?”

You flick open the app and sigh. “Well, when I last looked, it was five minutes away. Now it appears the driver just cancelled the pickup. Bloody hell,” you roll your eyes.

“Well, that’s shitty,” he concedes as he punches the down button. “I think I spied a Costa just on the corner. How about I buy you an apology-about-your-nose coffee while you wait for another?” He posits.

“Okay,” you agree. “Wait, is my nose all red or something?” you ask, suddenly self-conscious

“A bit”, he chuckles, “but you still look lovely.”

Just then, the lift sweeps open, and you can see your reflection in the back wall. It looks bright red—not broken, but probably a touch bruised.

“Oh, just fucking great,” you sigh as you step in with him and fumble in your little evening crossbody bag for your compact. Some powder may help.

“So, are you regretting a one-night stand? Or do you not hate whiskey as much as I do right now?” he inquires sardonically as the lift jerks gently to life.

“I uhh might be regretting the tequila shots,” you offer, “but luckily, no one-night stand, not this time. This is the walk of semi-shame, just from a friend's place.”

“Ahhh,” he nods in understanding, “so, unlike me, you have nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Well, I might have invited myself to stay at theirs, not given them much choice, y’know? So maybe some shame,” you respond, and he chortles bemused.

“Bossy drunk?” he huffs, amused, as the lift opens on the ground floor.

“Opinionated,” you correct with a smirk, and he laughs aloud, chivalrously signalling for you to step out before him.

“Sounds like exactly what I would say,” he opines airily, taking a few paces to catch up and walk alongside, matching your stride. “You walk fast for a hungover person,” he observes.

“It’s amazing how quickly I move towards coffee,” you state and again can't help but feel something warm unfurl in your tummy at his noise of amusement. You don't think you've exchanged this much fun banter with anyone in months, especially with someone this good-looking.

You nod a silent thanks when he moves ahead to open the building door for you, and you walk the few doors to the coffee shop in companionable silence, the crisp morning air waking rather refreshing.

“Mmmmmm…” you inhale happily as the scent of coffee envelops you as you enter.

“…Coffee,” you sigh in unison and share a light-hearted giggle.

After you place your orders and he kindly pays using his phone, you grab a couple of armchairs by the window, the only customers at just after 8 am on a Sunday.

“I'm Anthony,” he offers, touching his chest as he leans back in his chair.

“Y/n,” you reply “thank you for the coffee, Anthony,” you hold up your paper cup in greeting.

“You are very welcome, y/n” he leans forward to press his cup to yours, and the look he shoots makes you feel hot before you’ve even taken a sip of your coffee.

“Please excuse me. I’m just going to order another Uber,” you explain, looking down at your phone, needing a less flustering distraction.

“My driver can take you to wherever you need to go,” he politely offers as you squint at your screen.

“Oh, that’s very kind,” you stumble, slightly taken aback, “but I could never impose like that.”

“It’s no imposition,” he insists casually, “and if you are concerned for your safety, I actively encourage you to share location with a friend, family member.. boyfriend?” The last word uttered with an inquisitive tone.

“No boyfriend,” you clarify, perhaps a little too quickly.

“Husband?”

“Haha, definitely not,” you deadpan.

“Girlfriend?” He hedges with a very playful expression. You almost want to roll your eyes at that predictable male behaviour but can’t help wanting to flirt back.

“Not my style,” you wink, and his responding grin does funny things to your insides.

“Well then, if no one would object to you pulling up at home in my car, I think you should do it,” he argues.

“Okay,” you capitulate, “on one condition.”

“Name it,” his gaze holding yours.

“You allow me to buy you brunch sometime as a thank you,” you offer before you can censor the idle thought.

“You have a bloody deal,” he answers instantly, eyes dancing in a way that catches your breath.

You have no idea what possesses you to make such an offer to a stranger. But there is something about him feels safe; trustworthy, despite his attractiveness, like he carries responsibility on his shoulders so effortlessly.

“So there are two things I’ll need to know,” his voice taking on a low velvety tone, “where you live and if you’re free in about two hours.”

“What for?” You frown.

“Brunch,” he shrugs with a winning smile.

You laugh; you didn’t mean today, but then, it’s not like you have any actual plans. You can feel Anthony watching you, a hopeful look on his gorgeous face. After a few moments of consideration, you pipe up with your suggestion.

“How about… we go for brunch now, then you drop me home?”

“I like the way you think,” he nods, breaking out into the most breathtaking smile, “let me just make a quick reservation. I know just the place,” he adds, getting up from his seat as his call connects.

“Shouldn't I pick where, if I’m paying?” you ask drolly.

“This place knows me—it’ll be my treat after all. Tell you what, you can pay next time,” he winks, and butterflies erupt in your ribcage at the prospect.

You settle back into the chair with a tiny smile tugging at your lips as you sip your drink and watch him wander away, making arrangements, your eyes lingering on his rather shapely rear.

Well, this could be the start of something very interesting...

Anthony taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @queenofmean14 @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya

#anthony bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x female reader #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton x y/n #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton

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charlewiss-writes · 2 years

Text

say the word / pierre gasly

masterlist

day 4: social (part of one-word november prompts!)

summary: he was a social butterfly and you were quite the opposite. how do you manage to sort it out?

pairing: pierre gasly x reader

word count: 0.7k

warnings: not proofread! poorly translated french (as always). also this is fully self indulgent on my part

everything was fine.

until it wasn't.

you really tried to enjoy the party. and you did, for the first few hours. it was a sponsor event for both pierre, carlos and charles, so thankfully you had charlotte and isa by your side to keep you company when your boyfriend was dragged to talk with different important people.

you had tried to avoid going in the first place, and your boyfriend seemed to understand your reasoning, claiming that it was okay if you wanted to skip it. hell, if he could he would too. these kind of events always pissed pierre to no end, being the worst part of his job according to him. but the girls had tried to convince you for weeks. and you thought, well, could it be as bad as your remembered? maybe you just were looking at the bad side of it -the press, the endless smiles you had to fake, the greetings you had to offer to people that didn't even care about you in the first place-, instead on focusing on the good things: spending time with your friends, your boyfriend, and the funny stories that always came with a night full of booze.

you knew that pierre, being the little social butterfly that he was -even though he denied it every time when you used to make jokes about it all the time- thrived in this environment: loud, packed, with electrifying energy flowing around him. you had met him in a situation like tonight, a few years prior, back when your friends used to drag you out every weekend you had off. but you never liked it that much, preferring to stay at home watching a movie or going to sleep early, always too tired from the week before or the one that peeked ahead.

—

"you promise to tell me when you want to go home, okay? your boyfriend say, grabbing your hands. he currently was on his knees, helping you put on the shoes you were wearing tonight, while staying seated at the edge of the bed. "yes, pierre, you don't have to worry about it" you said, kind of joking, but knowing that he had meant every word he said. he continued "doesn't matter who I'm talking to or what I'm doing, you tell me"

"yes, lovie, I'll tell you as soon as I notice"

—

what you didn't count was with your social battery going out in the middle of the night. a few hours had passed since you arrived at the event, and even though you were having fun with the girls, eventually you just didn't matter anymore, the fake smile and endless amount of small conversation tiring you out way earlier than expected.

even though you promised, you didn't want to bother your boyfriend, who looked to be in an interesting conversation with some older men. so you excused yourself from the table, claiming that you were going to the bathroom but you would come back quick. charlotte had tried to go with you, not wanting you to go through the endless sea of people that was enjoying the party between your table and the bathroom. being the stubborn person that you were, you reassured her with a smile, saying that everything was fine, and started on your journey away from them.

you didn't need to go to the bathroom. in fact, you had no idea where it was. you just needed to find a door, any door, that could get you out of there, your surroundings starting to become blurry and too much to handle with every passing breath.

it scaped your thoughts that pierre would notice about your departure straight away, not even a minute after you had gone away. he made his way quickly to the girls, asking about where you went, and already knowing what the reason was behind your hurried walk.

"hey, why did you disappeared? everything ok?" pierre's voice caught you off guard, along with the sound of the door closing behind him. "yeah, just needed some air" you looked back at him and smiled. he quickly took a seat next to you, and now both were sitting on the sides of the road, just outside the nightclub.

"do you want to go home?" he whispered, kissing your naked shoulder. you smiled and closed your eyes, enjoying the warmth of his body against yours, and his mouth against your skin. caressing his cheeks, you replied "no, pierre, you're still needed here".

"I don't care about any of this, I'll deal with it later. say the word and I'll take us home, mon cher ange (my dear angel)" pierre smiled softly, now returning the soft touch on your cheeks, the same lovingly way you had done to his just a second before. you leaned into his touch "I'm sorry, p".

"nothing to be sorry about. it was boring as fuck anyways. let's go, chéri. I'll prepare a hot bath for both of us".

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x you #one word november prompts #charlewiss writing challenge #user charlewiss #pierre gasly x y/n #pierre gasly x you #pierre gasly fluff #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly x reader

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bobamilkk · 2 years

Text

Tf2 Headcanons but I get Carried Away easily

Scout

Scarily Flexible and will casually do contortionist stretches in his room when he’s bored

He subconsciously chews on his dog tags when he thinks

Talks with his hands

Eats random shit that he should not eat-Soldier encourages him too-Medic has found a car battery in him before

Lactose intolerant

Surprising good driver-races his motorbike around the base when bored

Street racing nerd /pos

Undiagnosed adhd and will very loudly complain when his energy spikes but he’s not able to go on a run-no I’m not self projecting what are you talking about /s

Has a visible scar on his hip from the comic, wears crop tops with every intent to show it and his tattoo off

Soldier

The opposite of scout-He gets stuck doing a handstand. Tries to mimic scout anyways

He gives a war pep talk before every single meal and demands they do the pledge of allegiance before eating-even on days they don’t have missions

Partially deaf and has hearing aids from the extended exposure to his rocket launcher-his screaming doesn’t help

Him and Scout are each others lack of impulse control-Scout goes “what if” and Soldier very loudly tells him to do it and cheers him on while he does said dumb thing

Pyro

He/They :)

Easily cold and steals everyone’s blankets

Medic gave him anatomy coloring books-They only color them with pink crayons for some reason

He,,,doesn’t eat?? At all?? And he only drinks by sticking a straw through their mask

Gives people plushies when their sad-alternatively offers themself as a plush to hug if that doesn’t work

Demo

Accent gets stronger the more he drinks-after a certain point no one can understand a single word he’s saying

Cries during sad movies even when sober

Jokingly doesn’t share his alcohol with Scout while teasing him that he’s “too young”

The only one with a braincell when paired with the offense trio-he gets the main blame for whatever bullshit they pull off as a result

Heavy

One of the most common people to be on cooking duty, alongside Engie

Gentle giant around the team-will even sing Pyro lullabies when they ask for it

Will gladly go on hour long infodumps around Sasha

Often falls asleep on the couch and wakes up with all 8 of the others using him as a pillow-every single time he wakes up confused af

Engie

Never swears but can and will call you every southern insult in existence-if he DOES swear you know your FUCKED

Somehow the only one able to scare Scout into doing chores-no one knows how

Kisses his plush of whatever respective ship partner when he thinks no ones looking-Spy has a blackmail photo of guise

Calls people to the dinner table by threatening to throw their food out to the coyotes

He’s dubbed the dad friend when in reality he’s unhinged af

Medic

Birds flock to him constantly-not even just doves either-He’ll step outside once in the city and for some reason every pigeon within miles is coming to him for affection

He names every single bird he meets and can recognize them at the briefest sight mo matter how similar they all look-Archimedes is his favorite

Has a plush of every single teammate with,,,oddly disturbing stitching and pins stuck into them

Either doesn’t sleep period or sleeps on the infirmary medical tables

Rather than healing or being sewn up-the bullet wounds medic received in the comic are just-straight up 2 holes in his torso

Kept the baby baboon he forced Cheavy to birth and is raising it-It’s name is Tobias and it has a little wooden crib in the infirmary

His room/office is the most unorganized mess youve ever seen and yet he claims to reorganize it every single day because he can’t find the THING and he’s got to rearrange it so he won’t loose the THING again-looses the thing the next day

Sniper

Only sleeps in the base during holidays or events and half the time he ends up sleeping in someone else’s room after an impromptu sleepover-it’s normally Scout or Pyro-God forbid the man sleep in his own bed /j

Has a pinboard on his wall with pictures of the team as well as less wholesome pictures and notes about new mission strategies-it’s a confusing mess and no one else can understand it

His skin is more sickly grey and unhealthy after the events of the comic

Sleeps bare ass naked and spends a good hour just laying in bed debating of if he cares enough to actually get up

The worst fucking hygiene-He fucking stinks and Spy won’t let him in the base without drowning him in cologne first

Collects random trinkets and gives them to people he likes-Your nice to him? Have a random pretty rock he found. He thinks your cute? Here’s a fucking tooth he collected from a guy he killed

Spy

Absolutely disgusted by Scout’s stretchiness

He’s actually married to Scout’s mom (if you ship them) and literally everyone but Scout knows-it’s a genuine surprise Soldier or Pyro hasn’t let it slip to Scout yet

Will lecture people about chores around the base and then proceeds to vanish anytime someone tells him it’s his turn to do the most basic of tasks

Shows his affection and love to the team by flexing on them and buying expensive dinners anytime they all go out-no one appreciates it

Names his cars in French

Dies inside every time he hears Scout proudly announce that his dad is Tom Jones

If you want more of my hcs give me a character or ship or scenario and I will GLADLY go off yelling about them for ages-hell expect a part 2 to this post later either way cuz I guarantee you it’ll happen

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 hcs #team fortress #team fortress 2 headcanons #tf2 scout #tf2 soldier #tf2 pyro #tf2 demo #tf2 demoman #tf2 heavy #tf2 engie #tf2 engineer #tf2 medic #tf2 archimedes #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #headcanon #scout has adhd send tweet

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jae-bummer · 1 year

Text

More Than You Wanted

Request: HALLO MY DEAR! Welcome back to writing 💛 May I HUMBLY request either 7 or 9 (or both cause we all love that hurt comfort spice) with the one and only Mr. Kim Mingyu? He's moved into bias zone, I am ASHAMED /s

Prompt:

7) "Doesn't matter what happens...if you call me, I will always answer."

9) "I don't want them. I want you."

Prompt list can be found HERE.

Pairing: Seventeen Mingyu x Reader

Genre: Angst/Steamy

The carpet in your apartment building was disgusting. Covered in dirt (at least you hoped that's what the stains were) and always kind of moist, you avoided contact with it at all costs. But now, you were sitting on it. Slumped against the wall behind you with your head in your hands, you were sitting on the world's dirtiest carpet and crying.

It had been approximately two hours since you had contacted your building's repair man, and an hour since you talked to anyone in management. You had locked yourself out and were completely exhausted. All you wanted was to lay down and maybe binge watch your favorite drama. You hadn't signed up for enrichment time outside of your enclosure today.

Cringing as the idea came across your mind, you looked helplessly down at your phone. It would be just so easy to text your ex-boyfriend. The two of you had never met up to exchange each other's things, so he still had your key.

Taking a deep breath and blowing it out slowly, you lifted up your phone and scrutinized the battery life. It was running below 10% at this point, so if you were going to do it, you needed to suck it up. Scrolling almost to the bottom of your saved text messages, you found Mingyu's name and tapped.

you busy?

That was safe, right? You didn't want to make him worry and you certainly didn't want to inconvenience him. You had done enough of that in your past relationship.

You weren't surprised when you saw typing bubbles appear before you had even locked your phone. Of course, he was going to be hyper available during your crisis.

Depends. What's up?

What a terrible non-response.

i was wondering if you could stop by and drop off my key?

Want me to bring the rest of your stuff?

not if it's not already with you...

"Why would it already be with him?" you muttered. "Please use your one active brain cell before you hit send again."

i just really need my key

Contrary to what you may believe, I have no plans to break into your apartment. Can I drop it off at the end of the week?

You groaned, leaning back and lightly bonking your head repeatedly on the wall behind you.

Resisting the urge to reply with "that's fine" and leave your fate in the hands of your apartment complex, you quickly typed out a message.

i locked myself out of my apartment.

Give me 10 minutes.

Breathing a momentary sigh of relief, you commended yourself. Texting Mingyu had not been easy, but it was a necessary evil for your own mental well-being. Surely you could play nice for approximately 45 seconds while he handed you your key and walked back down the stairs. You had 45 seconds worth of gratitude in your system, didn't you?

Closing your eyes, you tried not to think too hard about seeing him again. Naturally, that had the opposite effect, and you began dragging out memories that you hadn't touched in weeks. Your relationship had started out innocently enough. You had been an English tutor for the entertainment company that Mingyu was signed to and tutored him weekly. After spending hours upon hours with each other, a natural closeness formed between the two of you. While yes, you had been close to all of the artists in one way or another, something with him was different. It was something warmer, something more incendiary.

You found yourself actually paying attention to how you dressed or how you styled your hair. Starting to become overly interested in your personal appearance likely should have been a red flag. You knew better than to start anything with an idol.

Against your better judgement, your sessions quickly turned into flirting for hours. Mingyu was incredibly smart, so it wasn't a surprise when he was ahead in his English lessons. With the spare time, you got to know each other. Finally, one day he asked you out for dinner.

With time, the two of you had become inseparable. That was until the company found out about the burgeoning relationship. It only took days for them to threaten Mingyu until he said he couldn't see you anymore. It came as no surprise that a few weeks later, they had alienated you so entirely that you put in your notice.

"Stupid," you muttered to yourself. "How could you have been so stupid."

"People forget their keys all the time, Y/N," you heard a familiar voice say above you. "Do you know how often I lock myself out of places?"

"But you have twelve other people to rely on," you sighed, opening your eyes. "And I have...well, you."

Mingyu looked down, a sad smile playing over his lips. God, why was he allowed to look so good? You could tell he had showered only minutes ago judging by his damp hair. He had thrown on a pair of fitted joggers and a t-shirt. It should be against the law to make casual wear look so expensive just by being hot.

Using the wall as leverage, you pulled yourself up to stand. "Thanks for doing this. I didn't mean to disrupt your whole afternoon."

"Don't" he said softly, shaking his head. "Doesn't matter what happens...if you call me, I will always answer."

He dug around in his pocket, producing the pink Hello Kitty key you gave him ages ago. It looked so small in the palm of his hand.

"Well anyhow," you said quietly, taking it. "Thanks."

He nodded, signaling the end of the conversation. You went to turn away from him but paused. He wasn't moving.

"Y/N, this whole thing" he motioned between the two of you. "When did this happen?"

"What do you mean?"

"When did we become strangers?" he sighed. "Because honestly it is hurts so bad."

An unknown feeling of annoyance bubbled up to the surface. "Mingyu, you broke up with me."

"You had to have known that it wasn't really me," he whispered, looking away. "I didn't have much of a choice at the time."

"Whether you did or not, we knew it wasn't going to work out in the long run."

"Don't say that!" he snapped. "I loved you...I still love you."

"Mingyu," you said quietly, deflated by his reaction. "You have millions of people out there wanting you. You're an idol. If your company discourages you dating noncelebrities, that is what it is."

"I don't want them. I want you," he said hoarsely. Stepping closer, he took your face in his hands.

You could feel tears beginning to gather at your lash line. "Mingyu-"

"Let me talk to them. The management team and everyone above and in between. Let me fight for us like I was too scared to do before," he whispered.

You tried to shake your head, but your face remained caught. Reaching up and placing your hands atop his, you sighed. "I wish it were that easy."

"It's not easy at all" he said, furrowing his brows. His eyes searched yours. "Nothing about love is easy. Nothing worth fighting for is easy."

"Mingyu," you whimpered, tears starting to fall. "I just wanted my key..."

"Yeah, well," he breathed. "You're getting more than you wanted for once."

Before you could clock his advancement, Mingyu's lips were on yours. You felt your tears falling even faster as you reached to grasp the fabric of his shirt. Because of you, the kisses were much wetter than normal, but it didn't stop his urgent need. He was manic with his movements; afraid you may slip away at any point. After every labored breath, his lips found yours again and again. Biting, licking, groaning against your mouth, you thought you would simply unravel in the dingy hallway.

Eventually the two of you had to take a break, all of the emotion was just too much. His hands sliding from your face and resting on your hips, he looked down at you, his expression hopeful.

"Why don't you come inside?" you asked nervously, unsure of what would happen moving forward. "We can talk."

"Sure," Mingyu nodded, a genuine smile spreading across his lips. "I'd like that very much."

#kim mingyu #mingyu #seventeen #svt #seventeen mingyu #svt mingyu #mingyu fanfic #mingyu oneshot #mingyu scenario #mingyu fluff #mingyu x reader #mingyu angst #seventeen fanfic #seventeen scenarios #seventeen oneshot #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff

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rainisawriter · 7 months

Text

Strange One – Takeshi (PSF #8)

Ficography

Genre: Fluff, comedy

Prompt: Rainy Day (@flufftober)

Word Count: 3,099

Pairing: Reader x Takeshi

World: High&Low

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

You scratched your cheek as you stared at the paper in your hand, trying to decipher the map that Tettsu had drawn you. Honestly, you were pretty sure a toddler could have done better. He even used crayon to draw it, claiming he couldn’t find a pen.

You were already late to the meeting but it wasn’t your fault. No one could have deciphered the damn thing. Shaking your head, you tugged your phone out of your pocket to call up Dan and get proper directions.

“Shit,” you cursed, seeing the low battery warning flash across the screen. You tried to send a quick SOS text to him instead but the phone shut off before you could send it. “Could this week get any worse?”

It had been a rough one for sure. Your dad hadn’t been able to pay the bills so you were kicked out of the house, forcing you both to return to the Sword area to stay with your cousin, Tettsu, and his family. It had been a long time since you were back here so nothing felt familiar. The five gangs hadn’t existed back then, either.

The day you arrived, some thugs tried to mug your dad so you ended up getting into a fight and, though you did kick their asses, you got a knife wound for your trouble. Not only that, but your dad was struggling to find a new job after having been laid off. You couldn’t find one, either.

On the fourth day of being back, you nearly got run over by a car and then your dad fell down the stairs because he was drunk, breaking his arm in three places and spraining his ankle. You were beginning to think this damned place was cursed though, thinking about it, your life wasn’t much better back home either.

Thunder rumbled overhead, dark clouds filling the night sky.

“Motherfu -“

With another clap of thunder, the sky opened up, sheets of freezing rain falling on you. You took off down the street, looking for some place you could duck under to escape the rain. You spied an open door up ahead and rushed inside without a second thought, running your hand through your hair before tugging off your hoodie. It had absorbed most of the rain, though your shirt was damp.

You loved the rain. To you, it was peaceful and relaxing, but you didn’t enjoy being caught in the rain. You hated the feeling of wearing wet clothes, the weight of them pushing down on you and rubbing against your skin.

You glanced around the dark room. It appeared to be a small apartment, though it was run down and messy. A torn, dirty couch sat on one side with a small table on the opposite side. Directly to the right of the door was a small kitchen sitting in the corner, though it hardly looked functioning. The back wall was caved in, making it impossible to go farther.

A small round candle sat on the counter, half used up with a lighter sitting beside it. You glanced around for any sign of life and saw none, so you chose to light the candle. The room looked even worse with the candle illuminating it and you were fairly certain that it was not safe to be in.

Rain pounded against the side of the building with a metallic twang and the building shook when the thunder roared overhead.

You sighed, falling onto the couch only to wince as a spring jabbed into my ass. I shifted off it, wrinkling my nose at the layer of dust covering the orange sofa. Setting the candle on the makeshift coffee table, you leaned your head back and closed your eyes, imagining all the ways you were gonna kill Tettsu when you got back home.

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

“Oi, wake up!” A hand roughly shook your shoulder, knocking you from sleep.

“Fuck off, Tettsu,” you muttered tiredly. “Was having a great dream.

When you tried to roll over and go back to sleep, the hand shook your shoulder again.

“I said fu -” You turned to glare at your cousin, but it wasn’t him that was standing over you. You blinked a few times, glancing around the room. This was definitely not your bedroom. “The hell are you?”

He folded his arms over his chest, brown eyes narrowed at you. “That’s my question.”

“I asked first.”

“Hah?” He scoffed in disbelief. “Are you five?”

“No, I just live with one. Tends to rub off on you.” You sat up, yawning and stretching your arms over your head. Your back was killing you and your neck felt stiff. “Where am I?”

“Nameless Street.”

“Who the hell names something Nameless? That’s dumb.”

“Who are you?” He demanded, eyes scanning you for anything that could identify you or who you were with. “You don’t belong here.”

“No shit, sherlock.” You scoffed, pulling yourself to your feet as you eyed the guy in front of you. He was pretty damn cute, you couldn’t lie. “You can untwist your panties, I’m leaving.”

He stepped in front of you, blocking your path. “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me who you are.”

You scoffed, flexing your hand. “Look, man, I’m sore, tired, and had a really shitty week. Get out of my way before I make you.”

The corner of his lips twitched up, amusement dancing in his eyes. “You can try, but you won’t get very far.”

You acted as if you were trying to step past him before throwing your fist at his face. He dodged, grabbing your wrist before kicking your foot back to make you lose your balance. You stumbled but stayed upright, dodging his foot when he tried to kick you in the ribs. The floor was covered in dust so both of you kept sliding across it as you exchanged blows.

You tried to use this to your advantage, throwing your weight against him. It worked, his back hitting the floor with a grunt. You rushed for the door but he grabbed your ankle, a cry leaving your lips as you fell forward, just barely able to place your fall with your arms.

“Fucking hell,” you groaned, attempting to kick him in the balls but he dodged, pinning your legs beneath one knee, the other over your right arm, pinning it to the ground. You tried to punch him with your free hand but he grabbed it, pinning it beside your head as he hovered above you. Both of you were breathing heavily, glaring at each other.

“I’ve reconsidered,” you huffed, his grip like iron on your wrist. “I’ll tell you who I am if you get your fat ass off me.”

He scoffed. “This isn’t a negotiation.”

“I’m not a terrorist, man.”

“Huh?” His brow furrowed in confusion.

“You’re not supposed to negotiate with terrorists, but I’m not a terrorist,” you grinned. “So negotiate with me.”

“You’re really strange.”

“Thanks. It’s my best quality.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

“I took it as one.”

He scoffed, shaking his head as if to rid himself of anything distracting him from his task. “Who do you work for?”

“No one. Actually, I’m looking for a job so if you know someone who’s hiring, can you -“

He pressed his knee harder against your arm, looking annoyed. “Stop playing games.”

“Ow, ow, ow! Okay, fucking hell!” You tried to pull your arm free but he was like an immovable object on top of you. It was then that you remembered the knife in your pocket. It would be hard to grab it but it was your only option. “I’ll tell you everything, just… get off me, please. You’re really hurting me, man.”

His eyes softened a bit, his bottom lip between his teeth as he considered the request. “Will you behave?”

“Scout’s honor.”

He didn’t look entirely convinced, but he slowly removed his weight, standing up and extending his hand out to you. In the blink of an eye, you pulled out the blade and tried to stab his hand. He managed to pull back but the blade sliced across his palm, making him hiss in pain.

“I was never a scout, fuckface,” you scowled at him before taking off out of the house. It was late morning by this point, rain still falling from the cloud covered sky.

“Get back here!” His feet pounded the ground as he ran after you and you could hear feet running along the pipes above you.

You cursed, turning abruptly in an attempt to lose them. They continued to chase you, gaining on you, but they stopped abruptly when you darted through the gate of Nameless City, heading toward Sannoh. You glanced over your shoulder to see the brunette glaring at you, clutching his hand. A bunch of guys appeared around him, a redhead at his side.

You had no idea why they stopped pursuing you, but you took it as a win, grinning at him and flicking him off. He scowled, moving forward as if he were going to resume the chase and you took off, running until your legs turned to jelly.

You fell back against a building, sliding down to the ground with a groan. “I hate you so much, Tettsu.”

“I love you, too, cousin.”

Your head snapped up, seeing Tettsu and Chiharu standing in front of you, one grinning while the other looked concerned. You were filled with a sudden burst of energy as you jumped up, kicking him hard in the gut.

“Motherfucker, do you have any idea what I went through because of you, huh? You and your stupid dreams of being an artist!”

He scowled, dodging a second kick. “My dreams aren’t stupid! It’s not my fault you’re too dumb to read a map!”

“Hah?! No one could make sense of that shit! Come ‘ere and let me murder you!”

“No way in hell!”

Chiharu sighed as he watched you chasing your cousin, the two of you exchanging insults as you tried to injure him. Unfortunately for you, dodging was Tettsu’s special skill. He did feel a bit concerned about this, though, so he headed down the block to get Cobra. So far, the blonde was the only one capable of breaking the two or you up once you got started.

When Cobra finally arrived on the scene, you were sitting on your cousin’s back, securing him in a headlock as the two of you exchanged insults. The blonde sighed, smacking you lightly on the back of the head.

“Release him.”

“But -“

“Now.”

You scowled, squeezing him tighter before finally releasing your grip on him. You scooted back, sitting on the damp ground.

“You tried to kill me!” accused Tettsu, pointing his finger at you.

“You deserved it.”

Cobra folded his arms over his chest. “Tell me what happened.”

“This idiot -“

“You’re an idiot, idiot!”

“- wanted me to help him set up the DTC hideout so, like the kind soul I am -“

“Kind, my ass!”

“Shut your face, no one is talking to you!”

“Why don’t you make me?”

“Enough.” Cobra’s eyes narrowed with warning at the two of you and you both huffed in annoyance. “Continue.”

“Like I was saying, I went there out of the kindness of my heart to help, but this idiot -“

Tettsu’s lips parted but Cobra sent him a warning look and he closed them again, pouting.

“- gave me a shittily drawn map so I got lost. Then it started pouring so I dipped into the first building I saw. Ended up falling asleep because I was bored and my phone was dead. I was woken up this morning by some rude guy demanding to know who I was. I tried to leave but he wouldn’t let me so, of course, I beat his ass.”

Tettsu scoffed. “Doubtful.”

“I beat yours, didn’t I?”

“You cheated!”

“All’s fair in love and war, bitch.”

Cobra’s brow furrowed, a feeling of dread settling in his gut. “Do you know who it was?”

“I never got his name,” you shrugged. “Oh, but I did slice his hand open in order to get away.”

“Do you know where you ended up?”

“Uh…” you scratched your cheek in thought before snapping your fingers. “Ah! He said Nameless Street which is a really dumb fucking name.”

Both men looked at you with wide eyes, their bodies tense.

“Y-You…” Tettsu stuttered. “You’re an actual dumbass!”

“Hah?! You wanna die?”

Cobra closed the distance, kneeling in front of you and taking you roughly by the shoulders. You were taken aback by the intensity in his eyes. “Are you sure he said Nameless Street?”

“Yes?”

“And what did he look like?”

“Uh… brown hair, brown eyes, green clothes.”

“Shit.”

“What?” You frowned, looking between the two of them as they exchanged a look.

Tettsu shook his head. “Good job, cousin. You’ve barely been here a week and you’ve already potentially started a war between two Sword groups.”

“Eh?” You blinked dumbly.

“That guy was Takeshi. He’s the leader of the Rude Boys.”

You swallowed hard, heart dropping to your stomach. “Well, fuck me, I guess.”

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

“Do I have to do this?” You complained with a scowl, following Cobra toward Nameless City.

“Yes.”

“He’s going to kill me as soon as he sees me, you know that, right? You’re gonna be complacent in my murder.”

He sent you an exasperated look. “Takeshi is a reasonable guy who puts the Rude Boys first. He doesn’t want a war anymore than we do.”

“Oh yeah, so reasonable when he fought me and pinned me to the floor.”

“You threw the first punch.”

“You can’t prove that, Cobra.”

“You told me,” he sent you a deadpan look and you huffed.

The second the two of you entered Nameless City, you could feel eyes watching you though you saw no one around. You heard feet pounding on the pipes overhead yet no one was there when you glanced up.

A man jumped off the roof, landing in front of you. It was the redhead. “Cobra,” he greeted cautiously.

“P,” Cobra returned the greeting and you snorted at his name, earning a look from both males.

Recognition flashed through P’s eyes as he stepped closer. “You -“

Cobra stepped in front of you protectively. “We’re here to apologize to Takeshi.”

He considered this for a moment before nodding, sending you one last look before turning and leading the two of you farther into the city. He led you through a tall building, pulling back a plastic sheet to reveal a room resembling a living room. Takeshi was sitting on the couch looking exhausted.

Cobra stopped you in the doorway as P approached the brunette. “Please behave.”

“I always behave.”

He stared blankly at you and you frowned.

“Fine, I’ll behave.”

“No smart remarks. Just apologize for attacking him.”

“Fine.”

“This is important,” he stressed, resting his hand on your shoulder.

“I know,” you replied softly, catching Takeshi’s gaze when he glanced over at you.

Cobra led you farther into the room, greeting the younger male. “Takeshi.”

“Cobra,” he greeted back, but his eyes remained on you.

You glanced at his hand, the bandage dirty and caked with dried blood. When he noticed you staring at it, he folded his arms over his chest, hiding his hand from view.

“What can I do for you?”

Cobra nudged you in the ribs.

You cleared your throat, taking a step forward. “I… came to apologize.” You had to hold back your wince as the words dug into your pride. “I shouldn’t have attacked you.”

“What were you doing here?” His voice wasn’t as harsh as it had been during your last meeting and you took note of how tired he sounded.

“I, uh…” you rubbed the back of your neck. “I got lost because my cousin sucks at giving directions. Then it started to rain so I ran to the first place I could find.”

He hummed thoughtfully, watching you closely. It felt invasive and it made you uncomfortable.

“Staring is rude- ow!”

Cobra smacked you upside the head, giving you a stern look.

“I was just stating a fact, chill the hell out,” you scowled, rubbing the spot he had hit.

The corner of Takeshi’s lips slid up, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Did you not know where you were?”

“No. I’ve only been here a week, man, I don’t even know who you are.”

“A week?” He repeated in surprise, glancing at Cobra. “You don’t know about Sword?”

“It was explained in detail,” commented Cobra, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Clearly it went in one ear and out the other.”

“That’s not entirely true, I heard some of it,” you defended, snapping your fingers as you tried to recall the D gang. “Darna? Darulo? Dante? Da… Da something.”

The three men stared at you blankly.

“What? I’m trying, okay.”

“Daruma,” corrected Cobra.

“Oi, I was close! I should get points for that.”

Takeshi laughed, the sound like music to your ears. “You really are a strange one.”

“I know that’s not a compliment,” you scowled. To your surprise, though, he smiled.

“It is, actually.”

“Eh?”

“I’ll forgive you this time since you’re one of Cobra’s people, but don’t let it happen again. We don’t like outsiders in Nameless City.”

“Yeah… yeah, I understand.”

“Thank you,” Cobra nodded to him, patting your shoulder before turning and heading for the door where P was waiting.

You hesitated, though, a frown on your lips.

Takeshi cooked his head to the side. “Is there something else?”

“I’m sorry… about your hand.”

“It’ll heal.”

Swallowing your pride, you slowly approached him. “Give me your hand.”

He quirked a brow. “Why?”

“Don’t be a pain, just do it.”

He chuckled, holding out his uninjured hand. You set a ziplock bag in his hand, bandages and antibiotic ointment inside. He looked at you in surprise, lips parting.

“This should help,” you cut him off, bowing your head before rushing over to Cobra who was smiling at you proudly.

“Oi, strange one.”

You turned, barely reacting fast enough to catch the black mass he had tossed at you. It was the hoodie you had left behind, the cloth now dry. You caught his eye, a flutter in your stomach when he smiled at you.

You quickly turned your back to him, trying to hide your red face but Cobra saw it, a soft chuckle escaping him as he followed you from the building.

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

-> High&Low/Rampage Taglist: @kiraaaeon, @simpforchuchu, @star2fishmeg, @thatpoindexterpixy @manhwabtch

-> General Taglist: @asterhaze, @mrskenpachizaraki

#flufftober2023 #day 8 #high&low #takeshi #high&low takeshi #rude boys #rude boys takeshi #RFO - PSF #RFO - PSF23 #rains ficography #jdrama #fanfic #fanfiction #fanfics

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imagineteamfreewill · 1 year

Text

A Collapsible Crutch Christmas

Title: A Collapsible Crutch Christmas

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Canonical violence, broken bone and pain from moving a broken bone, vomiting, passing out, mentions of splinting a broken bone, snowstorm, angst with a fluffy ending

Square/Trope Filled: Blizzard (SPN Christmas Bingo) and Rescue Mission (25 Days of Tropes)

Summary: On a solo hunt, you find yourself not only nursing a major injury, but snowed into a cabin on Christmas.

A/N: This is a submission for the 2022 SPN Christmas Bingo (@spnchristmasbingo)and fulfills a trope on my 25 Days of Tropes list! It is more angsty than my other Christmas fics, but I hope you all enjoy (even though it’s after the holidays). Dividers by @firefly-graphics

25 Days of Tropes Masterlist

Highway 75 twisted through miles of deep forest, making it and the cabins nearby a picturesque location for honeymooning couples, college students on summer road trips, and families looking to unplug. It also made it perfect for wendigos and a handful of other creatures that liked to prey on the unsuspecting.

Snow crunched underneath your boots as you trekked away from the highway, heading for the log cabin you knew was a few miles in. The public trails all led in the opposite direction, but this was the shortest route and it would give you a chance to check out the area without worrying about civilians. Your backpack was full of nonperishable food and extra layers of clothing, along with your usual hunting supplies. You knew that Sam had slipped in an extra charger for your phone, along with batteries for the flashlight, and Dean had packed an extra knife somewhere in your bag. They always worried about you, despite the fact that you’d been hunting almost as long as they had. It wasn’t your first time going on a solo case, but the eeriness of the silent, winter woods made you wish that you’d taken Dean up on his offer to come with.

Behind you, the sun had sunk low on the horizon, casting shadows that stretched far across the ground. You shivered and zipped your coat up a little further, then pulled the maglight out of your pocket. It turned on with a click that felt far louder than necessary and you looked around.

The hair on the back of your neck stood up. Something was wrong. You slowed, then stopped and turned in a circle, shining the flashlight in every direction. The light glanced off the trees and made the snow on the ground almost blindingly white, but there were no monsters to be seen and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. You knew better, though. Your instincts were fine tuned after years of hunting, and when your gut told you something was wrong, you needed to listen.

You slipped your gun out of the thigh holster and clicked off the safety. After a moment, you began walking again, heading toward the cabin with a slightly faster pace. Your heart pounded in your chest and you stayed on high alert, all while trying not to trip over your boots or the bumpy forest floor hidden under the fresh powder. A cold wind blew through the trees, cutting through your clothing like a knife and making you curse under your breath. The first thing you’d have to do once you got to the cabin is start a fire to warm up, then eat. Your stomach had been growling ever since you’d parked in the public lot near the trailheads.

When the cabin was finally visible in the distance, you relaxed a little. As soon as you did, however, something grabbed your pack and yanked you backwards, sending you flying to the ground. Your flashlight flew out of your hand, its beam shining off to your right. You yelped, then lifted your gun and fired off two shots at the hulking beast above you. Its pale limbs blended into the snowy landscape, and it was only the weak light from the winter sunset that allowed you to see its face.

You’d read up on the news reports before leaving the bunker. You, Sam, and Dean had all agreed that it was a single wendigo that was taking out the hikers and photographers who’d braved the weather to take pictures of the trees covered with snow and ice. The reports had all been consistently spread out several weeks apart for over a decade, but it had been almost three months since the last one. You’d been skeptical that this was even a case worthy of your attention—after all, another hunter could have easily offed the monster without your knowledge—but Sam had been certain that the wendigo was still out there.

Now, as the monster growled at you from above, you realized that Sam had been right. The weather had been so bad that the trails had been closed for two months now, which meant that not only were you dealing with an incredibly strong wendigo, but you were dealing with a very hungry one, too. There hadn’t been anyone for it to hunt, and now you were its main target.

You cursed and righted yourself, scrambling to your feet and moving as far away from the wendigo as you could. A flare gun was in your other thigh holster and you quickly pulled it out, but before you could shoot, the creature disappeared. The woods fell deathly silent again and you tried not to breathe so loudly as you listened for any sign of the wendigo.

Slowly, you turned in a circle, surveying the quickly darkening forest. The sun was almost completely below the horizon and the flashlight had flickered off. The only light visible was the outdoor safety light by the cabin door a quarter mile away.

You stayed silent as you carefully made your way toward the cabin again, this time with your handgun in one hand and the flare gun in the other. When you were only a few hundred feet from the rickety cabin porch, the wendigo grabbed at your arm. It yanked you to the right and your handgun went flying. It discharged once, sending a bullet into a nearby tree, then disappeared in the shadows and snow. The wendigo’s claws tore through your coat like butter. Immediately, the cold slipped in through your layers and a shiver ran down your spine, but the adrenaline making your heart pound would quickly negate its effects.

You struggled against its grip. When it became clear that there would be no escaping the hungry monster’s grasp, you twisted as much as possible to get the flare gun into your dominant hand so you could shoot with better aim. It took a few tries before you were able to grab it and get your finger onto the trigger. You had one shot, and though your heart thundered in your chest and every part of your brain was screaming at you to fight and get away, you took a deep breath and tried to calm yourself so you could focus.

The trigger moved smoothly under your finger. You pulled and seconds felt like hours. You held your breath, listening as the flare lodged itself in the wendigo’s chest. It screeched and threw you away from itself, sending you flying through the air and into a fallen tree. Even over the creature’s horrific screams you heard the snap of your leg breaking upon impact. The snow did nothing to cushion your fall. You screamed too, your own cry mixing with the wendigo’s as it burned to ashes in the darkness of the forest.

All around you, the temperature continued to drop and snow began to fall. You clutched your thigh as sobs ripped through you, making your throat more and more hoarse with each passing minute. The pain shooting up your leg was unbearable every time you tried to move, and though you’d had worse injuries, you’d never had to face them alone.

Finally, rationality kicked in and you realized you had to get inside the cabin before hypothermia set in. The snow grew worse by the minute, and you vaguely remembered the radio host mentioning a blizzard coming down from the north. If you weren’t inside soon, you could freeze to death and nobody would find you for days. Getting to the cabin was your only hope of survival, no matter how painful it would be.

You groped around in the snow, digging through the heavy, wet powder until you were able to find one of the fallen tree’s branches. With the last bits of adrenaline still rushing through your veins, you pulled on it until it snapped off. It emerged from the snow with another firm tug, and then you were able to use it to push yourself up off the ground. The branch was long enough for you to use as a crutch if you hunched over. You just had to hope it would make it all the way to the cabin’s door.

The pain as you dragged yourself from where the wendigo had left you to the cabin porch was excruciating. Every survival instinct you had kicked in and you had to fight against yourself just to keep going.

“Come on, come on, open!” you screeched. You banged on the front door with your fist, being mindful to keep your weight on your good leg and keep yourself propped against the cracked wooden doorframe. Your makeshift crutch had fallen down beside you, but you left it alone—you wouldn’t need it until you got this door open.

The door swung open into the cabin with one last heavy shove. You almost fell through into the living room when it did. Snow blew in as you stumbled inside, tripping over the threshold with a shout, and grabbed onto the back of the couch a few feet inside the door. Thankfully, you managed to avoid much impact on your broken leg, but you still had to stop for a minute and gasp for air as the snow continued to blow into the cabin from the open door behind you. Black spots danced in your vision as you held onto the couch with a white-knuckled grip, trying to catch your breath.

When you finally managed to summon the energy to stand upright again, you pivoted on one foot to reach back and grab the makeshift crutch you’d left on the porch. You shook off the snow before pulling it inside, then locked the door and hobbled around to the front of the couch, using the crutch to support you most of the way. The fireplace was barren, not even ashes had been left behind by the previous occupants, but you were able to lower yourself to the floor between it and the couch. A stack of locks had been pushed up against the wall and you sent your silent thanks to whoever had had the forethought to stock it for the next guest.

Slowly but surely, the warmth of the fire filled the cabin, and the light from the flames allowed you to get a better look around. The lamp nearby hadn’t turned on when you’d tried, leaving you to believe that either the power had gone out or there was a problem with the generator. Either way, you weren’t in any shape to investigate, so the fire would have to do.

Your energy was slowly being sapped away by all the movement, but you needed to splint your leg and figure out if there was anything other triaging you could do before you passed out. After taking a few deep breaths, you braced yourself with one hand on the couch cushions and pushed yourself up. You wobbled on your good leg for a second, then grabbed your crutch and headed for the bathroom you’d noticed on your way in. A first aid kit had been wedged in the cabinet under the sink, and with it safely in hand, you limped back to your spot on the floor.

You collapsed onto the now snow-soaked rug, heaving as bile rose up in your throat. The pain worsened with every movement you made, and having to get up to get the first aid kit had taken an extreme toll on you.

Over the next few hours, you drifted in and out of consciousness as you put your leg into a splint and tried to fix your injuries as best as you could until you could call for help. The blizzard raged outside, and each time you came to, you stoked the fire, threw up beside you, and tried to triage as best as you could before passing out again. At some point, you managed to peel off the holsters on both legs, lamenting the loss of your weapons. You hoped that they wouldn’t fall into the wrong hands.

A gust of cold wind coming in through the open door made your fire sputter, almost going out, and a shiver ran through your body before you could stop it. You groaned at the sharp knife of pain that went up your leg, then your hip and back.

“Shit! Sam, she’s hurt!”

Dean’s voice made you open your eyes just enough to catch a glimpse of his face as he hovered over you. He cupped your cheek in his hand but you whined and shied away at the chill of his gloves met your heated skin.

“How long has she been here?” Sam asked.

The door slammed closed and the howling of the blizzard grew muffled again. Beside you, there was a heavy thud. The wood floor of the cabin shook beneath you as Sam and Dean hurried around. Someone shifted your leg on the rug and you cried out. Your eyes flew open and Dean was immediately above you, his eyes frantically trying to meet yours. He grabbed your hands before you could do any harm to him or Sam.

“Hey, hey, Y/N. Hey, sweetheart. It’s okay. We’re just fixing your splint a little bit and tryin’ to figure out what happened. Can you talk to me?”

You recognized that tone of voice—Dean was panicking, but he was trying not to show it. Something inside of you reminded you that he was mostly panicking because he didn’t know what had happened and that the wendigo was really gone. His anxiety wasn’t a sign that your leg was worse than you’d originally diagnosed.

It took you a moment, but you managed to croak out an answer. “It threw me,” you rasped. You licked your lips and swallowed against the sandpaper feeling in your mouth. “But it’s dead.”

He nodded and forced a small smile. His eyes were glossy, and in your pain-riddled mind, you knew that you didn’t want him to be.

“I’m okay,” you told him, and you tried to force a smile as well, but in reality, it was probably more of a weak grimace. “I think it’s just broken.”

Dean nodded again. “Okay. Okay. Sam’s gonna check it out. Did you take any painkillers?”

When you shook your head, he looked over his shoulder, then reached out and took the white bottle from his brother. With one hand, you tried to sit up without jostling your leg too much, but after throwing up so many times from the pain and the injury itself, you were weak. Dean noticed immediately, of course, and quickly ditched the bottle of pills to help you.

“Water?” you asked.

Sam was there immediately, holding out a bottle for you. You took it and he went back to searching through the first aid kit. Dean shook out a couple pills and passed them to you once you had the cap unscrewed on the bottle. You closed your eyes as you drank, panting against the open mouth of the bottle after a long drink, and when you opened them again, Dean had a bottle of whiskey in hand.

He smiled a little at your confused expression, then held up a packet of crackers you recognized from when you’d packed your bag. Behind him, Sam mumbled something and Dean shifted, moving from beside you to sit behind you so you could lean against his chest. He pulled you back against him and situated his legs on either side of you.

“Sam’s gonna fix your splint a little bit more so that when we travel back to the road, it’s a bit easier for you. Take a drink,” he instructed.

You took the whiskey when he held it out to you from behind, lifting it to your lips and taking a long swig. The drink burned on the way down and you winced, shuddering slightly, and Dean chuckled. You felt it against your back when his chest rumbled with laughter. Relief flooded you when the realization hit you that things would be okay now. Sam and Dean were here—you weren’t alone.

Dean rubbed his hand over the thigh on your good leg and you leaned back against him a little more, tilting your head back to rest on his shoulder. You closed your eyes, wincing and grunting as Sam adjusted the split. Dean’s other hand found yours and you squeezed it hard.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “It’s okay.”

You nodded. “Mmhmm. Keep talking?”

“We hadn’t heard from you, so we came looking.”

“In the—” You hissed in pain, your whole body tensing and your hand squeezing Dean’s even harder as Sam profusely apologized from where he bent over your injured leg. “In the middle of a blizzard?”

“It’s not so bad now,” Dean said. His voice was soft and low in your ear, and he paused to kiss the side of your head. “We borrowed some snowmobiles from the ranger station a few miles away. I’m surprised none of them came out here to check the cabins.”

You hummed, trying to focus on his voice and the warmth of the whiskey instead of the pain coursing through your body. The painkillers would be kicking in soon, but until then, you had to ignore the churning of your stomach and the pain trying to push you back into unconsciousness.

“I missed you so much. I was worried about you, and it’s Christmas Eve. We didn’t want to celebrate without you.”

If it was Christmas Eve, you’d been lying on the floor of the cabin for almost a full day. There was no light coming in from the windows of the living room; you’d been so out of it that you hadn’t even realized when the sun had been up, unless the snow from the storm had blocked it out entirely.

“It would’ve been okay,” you groaned. “We would’ve celebrated later.”

Reaching one arm around you, Dean pulled you back against him, holding you down as your reflexes tried to move you away from Sam as he worked. You cried out, tears slipping down your cheeks as your back arched against the pain.

“No, it wouldn’t have. Last year was our first Christmas together, but we got held up with that Crowley thing, so I didn’t get to celebrate properly with you. I wanted to be with you this year. I wasn’t gonna let a little snow stop me,” he said.

You laughed, a bit of a groan slipping through as you grit your teeth together and tried to stay still. “A little snow, huh?”

“A little snow,” Dean repeated, chuckling. “He’s almost done, sweetheart, and then we’re gonna get out of here.”

Sam spoke up as he tightened the split, and you forced your eyes open to look at him.

“We can’t leave now, Dean,” Sam said, and Dean shifted behind you. “Y/N needs to rest and hydrate. She probably needs to eat something, too.”

Your stomach churned again and you swallowed down the bile. “Don’t talk about food. Please.”

As Sam worked, Dean continued to comfort you and hold you, until finally, they would be able to move you. The painkillers had kicked in and once they moved you to the queen-sized bed in the only bedroom, you were able to relax for the first time in days. You refused the crackers when your stomach flipped at the sight of them, but Dean left them within reach of your spot on the mattress in case you woke up hungry.

Sam stoked the small fireplace opposite the bed while Dean arranged the blankets and pillows for you, and as he moved, you caught a glimpse of the time on his watch.

“Dean,” you said, grabbing his hand as it moved past. “Dean, hey.”

He paused, looking down at you. When he saw you smiling at him, he chuckled and smiled back, then took his other hand to brush the hair off your sweaty forehead.

“Hey, sweetheart. You okay?”

You nodded. “I’m good. Those painkillers really helped,” you told him, laughing a little. He laughed again and carefully took a knee beside the bed so he was closer to eye level with you. “But guess what?”

“Are you going to say chicken butt again?” he asked, and you grinned a little wider.

“No. Merry Christmas.”

A little v-shaped wrinkle appeared between his eyebrows as he lifted his other hand to check his watch, and then he smiled again.

“12:03,” he read aloud. “Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

Drowsiness was creeping up on you, aided by the warmth of the blankets and the fire, and Dean seemed to sense it. He reached out again and ran a hand over your hair. His expression softened and the firelight made his eyes sparkle a little.

At some point, Sam had left the room, so when Dean leaned in to kiss you, you reached up to keep him close. Compared to other kisses, it didn’t even rank in terms of intensity, but you knew you’d remember this one for a long time. He braced one hand on the mattress and lifted himself up to lean just slightly over you, and you shifted to the side to kiss him better. His other hand slid up from your cheek to tangle into your hand for just a moment before he pulled away. You kept him close, one hand gripping the slightly damp fabric of his jacket. After a moment, you opened your eyes, but you had to blink a few times to focus on his face.

Dean smiled, chuckling slightly before pressing a second kiss to your forehead. “I love you. Get some rest, okay? I’ll come check on you in a few hours,” he murmured.

You whined and gripped his jacket a little tighter. “No, stay.”

He pried your fingers from the lapel. “Sam and I have a couple things to take care of. I promise I’ll be back.”

Nodding, you relaxed back against the pillows and released him fully. You kept smiling even as he exited the room, then closed your eyes. It felt like only moments had passed when you opened them again, but sunlight was peeking through from behind the curtains. The fire still crackled, though the stack of logs beside it had gone down, meaning that Dean had kept his promise to check on you throughout the night.

Groaning, you shifted yourself to sit up a little bit more in the bed. “Dean?” you called. “Sam?”

Silence answered you and panic fluttered in your chest for a brief moment. You were about to call again when the door swung open and Dean stepped inside, smiling. He quickly shut the door behind him.

“Hey, how you feelin’?” he asked.

You smiled a little, still fighting against sleep, and yawned. “Still not great, but better than before. Are we going home today?”

He nodded and came toward the bed. “Hospital first, then home, but uh… There’s something else we have to do first.”

Smile fading, you helped Dean move the blankets off your legs, then accepted the water bottle and pills he’d set out on the bedside table while you’d been asleep.

“Is everything okay? Was there another disappearance?”

His eyes grew wide and he carefully pushed you down by the shoulder when you started to sit up even further. “No. Hey, no. Everything’s fine, Y/N. You got it. It’s dead. Relax for a second.”

“Then what do we have to do?”

Dean didn’t answer, but Sam knocked and stuck his head in the door. “She ready?” he asked. When Dean nodded, Sam opened the door the rest of the way and held out a pair of crutches.

You propped yourself up on both hands, looking between them with a smile. “Where did you even find those?”

They handed them off to you and Dean helped you carefully pivot on the bed, then stand, using the crutches to support your weight. Sam had fixed the splint well enough that you were able to follow the two of them out into the living room of the cabin.

“What— What is all this?”

An evergreen tree had been propped up in one corner. Pinecones and balls of tinfoil had been used in place of ornaments and there were stockings hung on the mantle of the fireplace. The fire crackled, warming the entire room and from where you stood, you could spy three bowls of soup and mugs of hot chocolate set out on the coffee table you’d originally shoved out of the way.

You laughed, at a loss for words. “What—? How?”

Dean led you over to the couch and helped you settle in the middle, smiling wide. “We brought the stockings and the presents—”

“The presents?” you asked, gaping at him.

Sam laughed and set a few wrapped packages beside you. You glanced at them, looked up at him, and then over at Dean again.

“The soup and hot chocolate was in your bag and the dishes were in the cabinets,” Sam explained. “The crutches were part of an emergency kit loaded onto the snowmobiles. They’re collapsible ones, but they’re better than that stick you had when we showed up.”

The couch dipped as Dean sat on the other side of you, and the packages slid down against your leg. He set his hand on your thigh, smiling.

“I know it’s not a real Christmas with lights and a fancy dinner, but I was thinking that it was better than nothing,”

Smiling, you reached up to cup his face with one hand, keeping his gaze on you. “It’s perfect,” you told him. “I love it.”

You kissed him, just as gently as the night before, and brushed your thumb over his cheekbone. He squeezed your thigh in return.

Thank you for reading! <3

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