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bimbobaggins69 · 3 months

Text

dreams about my dealer…

dealer e.m. x fem reader

blurb request: 💌Hey Tori! Hope your day is going lovely 😊 As a request for the vday celebration, could I pls get a blurb where the reader is nerdy and loves reading old cheesy romance novels like these? And one night she falls asleep after reading and she fantasizes about her dealer Eddie as this suave romance hero who sweeps her off her feet and gets her all hot and bothered. And so after that night she starts buying books covers where the men resemble him and he catches on during one of their smoke seshs. You decide how it ends 😉😉 by: @honey-flustered

authors note: This is such a fun request, thank you for sending it in lovely. Hope you enjoy <3 if anyone wants a part two of just smut pls lmk cause I’d love to, but ya know I’m trying to blurb here.

all of my works are 18+

“there ya go, wrap your arms around me, sweet girl. Just like that.” The familiar voice bellows into your neck.

“I’ve got you now, sweetheart.” He murmurs against your flesh this time, sending shivers down your spine. The long familiar hair tickles at your collar bone as his arms wrap tighter around you. This time causing a very needed friction between you and this mystery man.

“Mmm, go ahead angel, make yourself feel good.” He says again before removing his face from the crook of your neck and revealing himself to you.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

You pop up out of bed, removing your sleep mask before you slam your hand down on the obnoxious alarm clock sitting on your side table.

You feel a wetness in your panties when you go to stand up and it’s as if a flash goes off in your mind and you’re taken back to the dream you were just awoken from. Eddie, your drug dealer in nothing but blue jeans, his hair wrapped in a low bun and his big muscular chest dripping with sweat as he held you against his body protectively.

You look back over towards your bed, eyes glancing over the book you fell asleep reading. You couldn’t deny the man on the cover looked pretty close in comparison to eddie, long hair and the same exact attire as he was wearing in your dream. The man had a smirk on his face that was almost identical to the usual smirk eddie always had when you’d buy your weed from him.

later that day you find yourself across town, at your local library; ready to check out any and every dirty romance novel with a man that in some capacity meets your dealers description. You couldn’t believe the crush that formed from one little dream, you’d been festering on thoughts of eddie all day and you need more ammo for these ongoing fantasies and the very welcomed dreams you might have tonight.

You’re able to find five books in total, and you just knew you were gonna whip through them all in one week. There was a hunger in your center that just needed to be satiated, and if you couldn’t have the real thing, then the next best will do just fine.

The next morning, you speed walk through the halls of Hawkins high, binder held tight to your body as you keep your head down just trying to get to biology in one piece, but you’re running late so your feet move frantically as you go over an excuse to give Mr. Sivertson before you breech his classroom door. As you become deeply lost in your thoughts you collide into another body who was rounding the corner, your binder falls out of your hands and on to the floor as the other persons hands catch you by your waist.

“Where’s the fire, sweetheart?” The all too familiar voice fills your ears and you freeze, eyes now level with an ozzy shirt and his statement leather jacket.

Eddie’s eyes glance down towards your stuff that fell into a messy pile between your feet, your heart hammers when he bends down to grab something. The smirk on his face tells you exactly what he’d found and now you just want to run back to where you came from, get in your car and drive to a whole new town.

“Whatcha got here?” He says through a dopey laugh, as if you’d been caught red handed. That’s exactly what’s happening.

“Didn’t think a church mouse like you would read these kinds of books.” He whispers, although you two are the only ones in the hall.

“I-I’m not a church mouse, and give me my book back.” You huff and snatch your book out of his heavily ringed hand, but your face was far too guilty and you knew that eddie knew exactly why you had these books in your possession.

You eventually side step him, not wanting to hear any of his teasing that you knew he’d readily dish out. Eddie wasn’t a bully per say but he was an asshole, a cocky asshole to be specific.

Once you’re out of biology, you speed walk to your locker. Ready to put this godforsaken book away until the end of the day, when you can read it in bed, cuddled up where no one would make fun of you. But as you open your locker a folded piece of paper falls out and hits the toe of your flat. you shove your binder into a cubbie before bending down to retrieve it.

Meet me behind the football field after school

- EM

Your stomach fills with butterflies as it simultaneously sinks into the depths of your ass.

Why would he want to meet up after school? Was he going to poke fun at you? Have you show his friends your book so they could all laugh at you?

But another part of your brain said:

What if this is it? What if he really wants you? Maybe he’ll kiss you? Maybe you can finally feed this hunger.

That was all you needed to make your split decision.

After school, you grab your book from your locker and make a beeline for the football field. Bypassing quick goodbyes from your friends.

When you finally make it to the tree line, you exhale a deep breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, then you take a few deeper steps into the desolate woods. No one else came back here except for one infamous metalhead, so you knew you wouldn’t be met with any asshole jocks. That settled your stomach a bit, but not fully.

You see the back of Eddie’s head first as he sits on the old warped, wooden bench; hunched over as if in concentration. When you move closer, walking around the rickety table you can now see that he’s breaking up a nug of weed and placing it into a zig zag before rolling it up, snug.

Your eyes meet when he glides his tongue along the lining, he smirks up at you as your eyes gawk at the movements of his pink muscle, licking up and down. You can’t help but to squeeze your thighs together, that burning in your core blazes hot and he hasn’t even touched you.

Your eyes flicker back up into his and you realize that he’s watching you, watch him.

In a moment of faux confidence, you ask—

“What’s with the letter in my locker, Munson? I thought I was the one that was supposed to put the letters in your locker when I want to smoke.” You shoot him a weak smile, making him scoff as he puts the joint behind his ear for safe keeping.

“Are you gonna sit your ass down and smoke this with me or not?” He huffs, pulling a zippo lighter out of his leather jacket pocket and flipping the lid open and closed, open and closed. Is-is that a nervous tick? Is he nervous, too?

You lower yourself onto the seat in front of him, taking on your own nervous tick of picking at your nails.

He takes the joint from behind his ear, his eyes never leaving your form and it has you cowering deeper into yourself. He lights the spliff and inhales deep, holding it in for a second and then letting the smoke bellow out of his nose and mouth. You can’t deny how undeniably sexy he is.

“So, those little slutty novels you have—” He starts

“They’re not slutty! They’re romance novels, Eddie!” You screech in embarrassment, as your cheeks heat up from the deep cackle he makes in your expense.

“Yeah yeah, princess. Tell me, do they fuck in these romance novels?” He throws weak quotation marks up for the last two words, as his eyebrows shoot up under his bangs in question.

“Well, I mean…yeah they do.” You respond with a defeated slump of your shoulders.

“Mhm, just as I suspected. Slutty.” The way he sing-songs ‘slutty’ makes you fall into a fit of giggles, and the noise is music to Eddie’s ears.

“So uh, do you want me to make you feel better than those shitty books ever could?”

#— 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x female reader

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starstruckmoony · 9 months

Note

Hello! May I request a muggle AU with Theodore, with this meet-cute prompt: "they're on opposite sides of a wedding party to the bride and groom" (prompt is from @/thewritersafterglow on Instagram). Thank you! I know this request is in good hands :)

aaaaaa thank you anon! <3 this is the first request i've got in a while (again tysm it made me very very happy <3<3) and i had lots of fun writing it so i hope it meets your expectations!

can't help falling in love.

masterlist , requests

pairing - theodore nott x reader

trope/tags - muggle!au, strangers to lovers-ish, fluff (side note - this isn't particularly realistic because i don't really know how weddings work in different parts of the world, so i kind of just went by how they function in my country and some bits and pieces i've managed to pick up from movies and such. i know it probably won't be accurate for everybody but i tried my best LMAO)

word count - 3k

warnings - language, drinking, smoking, cheesy at the end

when you recieved an envelope in your mail one fine morning in late may, you never would have expected it to be an invitation to your primary school classmate's wedding in the english countryside. you could still recall the wonderful memory of choking on your coffee and scaring the life out of your poor cat when you saw her name plastered in big letters in the center of the paper, right below a picture of her and her fiancé. it was a miracle how she remembered you existed. to be frank, you were kind of honoured, and you made sure to confirm your arrival almost immediately. hell yeah, you were coming. free food and alcohol? who in the right mind would pass on that?

so about three months later, sometime in mid-august, you found yourself inside of a crowded venue, sweating buckets in your silky green dress, without a fan, or anybody to keep you company. a few of your old classmates were there too, but not a single one of them bothered to offer you a greeting. what a bunch of arseholes.

you stood leaned against the wall in the very back where there were fewer people, attempting to cool yourself down by fanning the air around you with your hands as you waited for the godforsaken ceremony to finally start. to nobody's surprise, the bride was a little late, and the groom's family was in a mild state of disarray. it was kind of funny, but not as funny as it would have been if you weren't feeling so bloody hot. do they not have air conditioning in here? how do people get married in these conditions? and why does the best man look more terrified than the groom?

the loud sound of somebody's shoes scraping against the tiles right next to you shook you right out of your train of thought, and you placed your hand against your chest in horror, "jesus christ." you muttered under your breath, the unfamiliar man attempting to catch his breath scared the life out of you.

he glanced at you for a split second, appearing rather exhausted (aftermath of sleeping through five alarms and having to run to the venue because his friends were too lazy to wait for him), "sorry." he offered you an apology breathlessly, leaning back against the wall to steady himself. you thought that you were being overdramatic when it came to the heat and the current atmosphere of the wedding, but this man seemed to have surpassed you. he was rather handsome though, despite being drenched in sweat from what you assumed was running, also paired with the humid air inside. his eyes were strangely captivating, and he looked a little too good in that suit of his for it to be considereded legal. were you staring? you were probably staring. you trailed your eyes away, pretending to be entertained by the groom's father who was attempting to explain the situation to the guests. you cursed inwardly, realising that you'd be stuck in there for a long time.

you turned to the pretty guy again, deciding that you should, perhaps, talk to him, "you don't look like you wanna be here." fantastic start. those probably weren't the words he wished to hear in those circumstances, but your observations didn't seem to annoy him at all. he actually chuckled instead, "am i that transparent?"

"quite." you responded a little too nonchalantly than intended, taking a quick glance at the door in hopes that you'll see the bride come in. nope. you returned to your original position. how wonderful that was, more waiting.

"do you have any water in there?" the man spoke again, pointing at the purse you had tucked under your arm.

you took it in your hands and peeked inside, knowing that you most likely wouldn't have what he was asking for, "no," you shook your head, but continued rummaging through it, "i have this, though." you pulled out a tiny bottle of liquor and shrugged before shoving it into his face.

he didn't hesitate to grab it, he would have taken anything that was liquid enough. he drank it all, not that there was much, before handing the bottle back to you with a scowl. he coughed a little as the alcohol burned his throat, and you couldn't help but snort.

"i don't know how smart that was." it wasn't, really, since it would only dehydrate him more, but it worked for the time being. he coughed again, falling back against the wall, finally able to breathe somewhat normally.

"you'll find out in a few hours," you didn't miss the smile that painted his features, and it encouraged you to carry on, "how do you know the bride... or the groom?" you questioned, wanting to keep the conversation going to kill at least some of the remaining time you had. you were bored out of your mind.

"the groom," he nodded briefly, "we went to college together, funny bloke, he invited me and my two other friends who are... somewhere in here," he stretched his neck as his eyes scanned the crowd for a short moment, "eh, whatever." he shrugged, and then reached into his pocket, but quickly retrieved his hand. it was still empty. you had assumed he reached for a cigarette before he was able to remember where he was.

"you won't go looking for them?" you queried, finding his neutrality over the whole situation slightly bemusing. it wasn't every day that a hot guy like him ditched his friends for you, and it was rather pleasant to think about. he was hoping he wasn't being so obvious about it, but you read him a little too easily.

"what, bored of me already?" he questioned, a hint of playfulness in his tone.

"i might be, now that you said that." you scowled in pretend disgust, drawing a breathless laugh from him. you shortly sunk into a not overly uncomfortable silence, both internally debating with yourselves about whether you should keep it going or not. you were kind of drawn to each other, after all. the consequence of attending a wedding without a date must have had an influence on it, you told yourself. he mustered a similar, lame explanation.

"i'm theodore, by the way." he decided to break the ice after a while, and you almost sighed in relief, "y/n." you shook his hand politely.

"nice wedding." he added, his face scrunching at the sight before him. the sarcasm in his tone was obvious.

"delightful, isn't it?" you offered the older lady that passed by you a forced smile, and then eyed her giant pink hat judgementally. you and theodore resembled a mean high school couple who had an opinion on absolutely anyone and everything, just standing there, laughing amongst yourselves and making fun of all the other guests and their stupid pastel outfits. it made sense why your classmates hadn't approached you, but you didn't let them occupy your mind any longer. you found yourself a like-minded companion for the night, one that was ten times funnier, and the prime example of eye-candy.

"imagine she never shows up." theodore said after you shamelessly fed one another with some interesting past gossip about the bride and the groom. judging by what he had told you, those two were a match made in heaven. and you could say that with your whole chest.

"god, don't plant that idea into my head. i spent my last three paychecks on this bloody dress." you snorted, dusting it off when you noticed that it had got a bit dirty.

"it looks perfect on you, though." theodore's little compliment took you off guard, and he must have noticed judging by the way he grinned.

"thanks." you felt yourself blush a little at his comment, and just as you were about to open your mouth to speak again, the bride's mother burst through the door, announcing that her daughter would be there shortly. you exchanged a relieved glance with theodore, fucking finally.

despite the long wait, the ceremony played out quite beautifully. the couple exchanged their vows, humourous and tear-jerking all at once. people laughed, people cried, somebody's baby did both. the best man hadn't forgotten to bring the rings, and the maid of honour looked happier for the bride than the bride. nobody backed out last moment, and nobody objected after the infamous "speak now or forever hold your peace". you left the venue with a smile on your face, pleasantly surprised.

theodore and his friends offered to give you a ride to an even larger venue where the reception was being held after you told them that you had arrived with a cab, and you happily accepted their offer. the two idiots he came with were just as unserious as he was, and you had soon found out that they all attended the wedding with the same intentions as you. eat food, get drunk (and then sleep in the car because mattheo wants to get wasted but doesn't want to run them off the road and kill somebody in the process).

the reception, thankfully, moved a lot faster than the ceremony. by some sheer dumb luck, you had been instructed to sit at the same table as theodore, lorenzo and mattheo. your shitty classmates were there too, so you assumed that the table was designed specifically for that - old friends from school that the newly weds didn't talk to very much, but still liked them enough to invite them.

so, after the grand entrance, loud clapping and cheering, a cute speech from the bride, more clapping and cheering, the best dinner you had had in a while, a few more emotional speeches, and even more clapping and cheering (hollering this time, too), the dj finally showed up. it was the part of the night you had been the most excited for. the first dance was absolutely beautiful and even brought a few tears to your eyes, but god, the moment you heard an onset of lower-than-nightclub-quality music blast from the speakers, your hopes had all gone down the drain.

the dance floor filled up in a matter of seconds, and you had never been more appreciative of the existence of wine. not a single song that was played in the span of fourty-five minutes was your cup of tea. and as different people's requests kept incoming, it only got worse.

theodore seemed to be having the same problem. mattheo too, considering he had about five shots in less than half an hour. lorenzo wasn't doing much better either. he was entertaining himself by making paper planes out of tissue paper and leaving them on the table like a strange art project.

"this music is terrible." theodore's voice was completely drowned out by the godawful sounds coming from the speakers, you couldn't hear a thing he was saying.

"what?!" you shifted a bit closer to him, covering one of your ears with your palm to subdue at least some of the noise.

"i said that this music was terrible!" he tried not to shout, but it would have been impossible for you to comprehend whatever he had said if he hadn't done so. yes, it was fucking awful. many people would disagree, considering how many of them were still on the dance floor, either fully wasted already or slowly getting there. at least the newly weds were having a good time, both slightly tipsy too.

"tell me about it!" you yelled back, rolling your eyes. you considered asking him to accompany you outside, for a smoke or something, though you didn't really need an excuse. anywhere would have been better than in there. but you chickened out before you were able to speak, continuing to sip on your wine in silence. silence, that was funny, mostly because of how unbearably bloody loud the music was.

lorenzo suddenly stood up, and he yelled something into mattheo's ear. the other stared at him in confusion, and then burst out laughing into his face. he turned to you instead, and you saw his lips move, but didn't understand a thing he was saying.

"huh?!" you and theo yelled out in unison, and lorenzo waved his hands dismissively at you, defeated. he pushed his way through the crowd on the dance floor and shuffled over to the dj. he threw an arm around the man, probably trying to make some friendly conversation. they seemed to be getting along.

perfect. you reached for the wine bottle, refilling your glass and taking large gulp. you were hoping that lorenzo had enough charm to sway the dj into playing something else. it took about twenty minutes of insignficant chit-chat for the man to finally nod and give him a thumbs up, and that's then the beginning of dancing queen blessed your tortured ears.

you gasped in shock, immediately getting up onto your feet and latching onto theodore's arm. he didn't really protest when you tugged at his sleeve and pulled him to the dance floor which got even more crowded than it was before. mattheo managed to fall out of his chair, but he followed the two of you and joined you in the mass of people.

"thank me later!" lorenzo yelled your way before a pretty girl grabbed his attention. the night got so much better from then on. the dj appeared to have whipped up a large playlist of abba's work, since the songs were playing one after another, each one bringing your mood up. you had completely blocked out anything that had happened before you heard the tune of the first song, and you had only returned to the table with theodore to refill your glasses before running back to the dance floor.

you couldn't recall the last time you had that much fun, singing your heart out, jumping up and down, showing off some ridiculous moves, letting theodore hold your hand and spin you around. the dj stuck to the same genre for a while, playing old pop songs, keeping everybody on their feet. some of them you didn't know, but you weren't about to sit back down after doing so for almost two hours, so you danced to them too nevertheless.

that is, until your legs started hurting a little too much for it to be tolerable and your throat had got a bit sore from belting several songs with the bride. your head was spinning too, courtesy of having so much wine. theodore took the opportunity to ask you to accompany him outside (because he really needed a cigarette) after some slow tune neither of you were familiar with had been put on.

you nodded your head took a hold of his hand as he led you out the door. you clumsily made your way down the stairs, laughing as you did so. the effects of alcohol were beginning to show themselves.

as fun as it was, getting out of there for a short while was a need. you slumped down onto one of the stone benches placed outside the venue, sighing comfortably as the chilly breeze of the night cooled you down.

you immersed yourself into another casual discussion, not a very significant one, as neither of you could even stand properly for too long without stumbling, but it was nice breather from the wild atmosphere inside. you liked talking to theodore, and even with your clouded thoughts, you knew you'd want to see him again after this. there wasn't a doubt in your mind.

"i thought i'd have to leave early." theodore laughed to himself as he took the last drag from his cigarette, and then tossed the burnt out stub onto the concrete.

"and make me stay here all alone?" you teased, although you probably would have left too if it wasn't for lorenzo and his skillful flirtation tactics or whatever the hell that was.

"who said i wouldn't bring you along?" his response made heat rush to your cheeks, and you put your head down with a breathless chuckle. you were quiet for a moment, trying to recollect your thoughts.

"you know, this might sound a little weird, but," you chewed on the inside of your cheek, not really able to think straight. you were tipsy, after all, "i'm glad i met you today," you tilted your head to the side, drunkenly observing him, "you're nicer than i anticipated." as backhanded as it sounded, that was the best you could do.

it was theodore's turn to blush after you said the words, and it didn't manage to go past you, despite him trying his hardest to hide it.

"yeah, i mean no– it's not weird, i'm uh," he trailed off, contemplating whatever it was that he wanted to say next. honestly speaking, he didn't know how to put it into words, "i'm glad we met too, you're–"

one thing that theodore hated was tripping over his words and not being able to be blunt with somebody he took a liking to, which is why he was so, very grateful to hear elvis' can't help falling in love coming from the inside of the venue.

you looked up at him when you realised which song it was, waiting to see if he'll ask you to dance. and he did, but he didn't lead you back in through the door like you thought he might. you stayed outside in the light wind, slowly swaying to the music, his hands on your waist and your arms around his neck.

you liked it better that way, just the two of you in your own little world with nobody else to disrupt you. you let your head rest on his shoulder, and his grip on your waist tightened just a little bit, like he was making sure you won't leave him. you smiled to yourself, god, that was the last thing you were planning on doing.

#theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott scenarios #theodore nott smut #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott headcanons #theodore nott fanfiction #mattheo riddle #lorenzo berkshire #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction

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henneseyhoe · 10 months

Text

Freaky Girl

Tyrone x BLACK!FEM!reader

WARNINGS:real ghetto. Y’all know Tyrone a hood nigga anyway. Spit(obvi), Short, not a complete smut buttt it’s still nasty.

SUMMARY: Tyrone gets the rest of his soul taken(if the government didn’t already do that for him)

Ps.I lowkey wanna make this longer into a full smut but idk lmfao

(Gif cr: @tishrivers <3 )

✮✮✮✮

Music with bass boomed through the car crowed street, the neighborhood cul-de-sac he pulled up in being as active as the hood usually is. The place wasn’t run down, but you could tell a couple illegal activities took place here more than often. He was no stranger to environments like this at all though. He grew up around it. Only problem was, this wasn’t his hood, so he was careful.

He made sure not to wear any alarming colors, even leaving behind the blue flag he’d usually wear in the back of his pocket, hanging out for any nigga to see. Not tonight though, he wasn’t even trynna be on that. A nigga couldn’t imagine getting clapped in somebody else hood just for wanting to get some pussy from this fye bitch a few blocks down. He honestly could have just walked, but he wasn’t feeling the idea of freely walking somewhere without his ‘heat’. Especially not around no damn crackheads.

Speaking of said ‘fye bitch’, she was in all honesty more than that, but he knew nothing apart from how some cornbread fed ass shordy he met at a party a month ago wanted what he had in them dickies cargo pants. She was pretty, both street and book smart, but the important part was that she was down for whatever a nigga offered.

He had heard about her around before, but he never really looked into why she was talked about other than the fact that she, again, had a fat ass and use to deal with some known nigga from across the states. Last reason he didn’t give a fuck about actually. All he thought about was if she knew how to take dick or not.

He exits his car and locks it, making his way into the neighborhood fully with a gangster lean in his walk. Like he had something in them pants that could cripple a bitch. All he could smell was weed smoke and burning wood. passing by residents and other guests who had came there for completely different reasons. Feeling cautious, he clutched his belt anytime he felt eyes on him. You could never be too careful.

Finding the girls house, he shakes his head at the hot pink painted front door, making it the only one to stand out apart from all of the other duplexes.

Laying a knock on the door, he leans against the porches iron railings and waits, which felt like forever in his case, though it was only a minute that passed. The door swings open, revealing the thick girl in boy shorts and a cropped tee that was fitted against her breasts, the deep split in the middle already giving him a show. It was obviously cut after being bought, the bottom of the shirt being tacky with loose threading that reveled a bit of her under boob.

“Bout time, nigga. Thought they got yo ass or sum” she moves from the door to let him in, walking back to wherever she came from. He walks in, his eyes fixated on the movement of her ass in those shorts. He couldn’t wait to see how it moved without the shorts restricting her.

He blew off at her comment. “Got? Never that, that ain’t me. A nigga had other things to do, shordy”

She turned to him, her eyebrows cockily raising. “Better than me?”

Silence was passed around with that question lingering around his head, a smirk tugging at the side of his lips as he thought, kicking the door shut with his foot then reaching for his belt.

“Hell nah”

✮✮✮✮

“Fuck—suck that shit” he exhaled, milky white smoke floating from his lips as he slowly leans his head back and entangles his hands in the girls Fulani braids. He was deep down her throat as if there was nothing blocking him from going further, and she was taking it. Imagine throwing a sausage down a hallway.

She licked and sucked along the shaft of his dick like it was hydrating her, her only goal being to get him off at the moment. Pulling him out of her throat, her hands wrap around his thick, long pipe, stroking him while her tongue worked on his balls, using her spit to get it sloppy, how he liked it. She used so much spit that the waist band of the front of his pants was wet down to the zipper.

He could still hear the loud trap music from outside and his high was hitting just right, making the music seem like it was put into some kind of filter. Like his brain chopped and skrewed it for him, his own remix featuring the wet sounds of the girls throat swallowing him whole.

She continued to slurp him up, shamelessly looking up at him with her beautiful slanted eyes, her wispy, recently done eyelashes complementing the shape. Usually girls teared up when giving head because of the pressure, but Y/N? Not one tear could fall from her eyes while doing one of her favorite things; getting some cut.

Feeling him pulse in her throat, she smiled with him still there. He could only look down at her in awe, taking another hit of his blunt to refill his lungs , but to also distract him from busting already, though that was the inevitable once she hallowed her cheeks and tightened her lips around the base of his dick, sucking like she was attempting to pull the nut out of him, which didn’t need much of an attempt since he was already ready to bust back to back in any hole she offered tonight.

He gripped the couch cushion underneath him with his hand, almost dropping his blunt as she sucked up and swallowed every bit of the sweetness he gave her. Not being able to take anymore of the suction, he pulls out of her mouth with a grunt, his hand moving down to grip the base of his dick as more of his essence spurted out onto her plump lips till that was all he could give from that one session.

“Gahdamn” he sighed, still holding himself until the sensation of her mouth went away, leaving his dick continuously bobbing up and down in jerks just from the sight of her. She only hummed out a soft ‘Mmmm’ as she rubbed the rest of his nut along her lips, giving it a gloss like sheen. That made him go crazy, starting to get him hard all over again. Her tongue danced on her fingers, moving the muscle up and down her middle finger and swirling around the tip of her long and exaggerated acrylics.

They were red and curved, decorated with white painted on flowers. It reminded him of the designs back into the 90s.

Standing to her feet, she removed the crop top she wore, releasing the gift given to her by whatever woman who birthed the freak. He would have thanked her momma if he knew her.

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Me cause I had that damn song on repeat while writing this 🤭

#black fanfic writer #black fanfiction #black!reader #masterlist #black actors #black reader #black!fem!reader #black!oc #smut masterlist #henneseyhoe #john boyega #John boyega smut #they cloned tyrone #they cloned tyrone spoilers #they cloned Tyrone smut

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chervbs · 1 year

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i was made for loving you — e. munson

pairings: eddie munson x jade west!reader

word count: 5k

synopsis: you’re the new kid at hawkins high-goth, intimidating;a true femme fatale incarnate. and eddie munson is undoubtedly smitten.

warnings: fem!reader, jade west is not meant to be an oc/faceclaim just inspiration for the readers personality therefore reader is kind of rude to all characters including eddie, you probably won’t understand this as well if you haven’t watched victorious, kind of love at first sight but its really just eddie being dramatic, reader is hot and she knows it, slight sexual implications (blink and you’ll miss it), mediocre writing, fluff!

a/n: jade west was one of my many bisexual awakenings and i’ve always wanted to write something with a character inspired by her. like I said in the warnings, this may not make as much sense if you haven’t seen victorious but its still readable! also pls pls pls send requests/concepts about jade west!reader because I wanna write more of her so badly! as always, feedback is treating appreciated <3

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Eddie had noticed the murmurs as soon as he stepped into the school, just in time for his third period.

He was trying to be better this year, he really was, but his late night smoke session the night before had relaxed a little too much, and he’d slept right through his alarm clock. Eddie only woke up once Wayne got home at around 8, yelling at his nephew to get his ass up and to school unless he wanted to go through a fourth senior year. The threat was enough to get him out of bed, stumbling as he attempted to put his white reeboks on while simultaneously hopping into his van.

Now, strolling down the hallway to his locker, trusty black “lunch” tin in his hands, he realized he forgot to grab his denim vest from the backseat where he’d haphazardly thrown it the day before. He groaned and glanced at his watch-9:27, three minutes before he had to be in English. He could risk being a couple minutes late.

Eddie, ignoring the usual dirty looks he received from his peers by just existing, pivoted on his heels, making his way back out to the parking lot. It was then that he initially noticed the whispers as people emerged from the front doors of the school.

Now, Eddie was very much used to such things in his wake, however, these weren’t for him. As he neared the exit, he noticed all of the students that were whispering were also pointing outside. Letting his curiosity get the best of him, Eddie sped up his steps, eyes squinting as he adjusting to the sunlight and looking around for the source of the gossip.

It didn’t take long to find you–you stuck out like a sore thumb.

In your hair were streaks of blue and purple jewel tones, a tight fitting black top that did wonders for your chest, a black skirt that Eddie was sure was far too short for school. Your shapely legs were encased with black fishnets and as his eyes traveled further down your figure, knee high black boots that had silver buckles running down the length of them and a platform that added a good couple of inches to your height sat on your feet.

Murmurs of gossip followed you as you weaved through the parking lot, but Eddie was frozen in his place, certain he’d just seen an angel. An angel clad in all black–a demon, maybe? Either way, he was entranced.

It wasn’t until he realized that you were heading straight towards him that he snapped out of his stupor. He had to say something–introduce himself, right? Eddie could feel his heart racing as you came closer to reaching him. What should he say? And–oh god, you were even prettier close up–

“Hi!” He didn’t even realize he blurted the word out until his ears picked up on it a few seconds too late.

Your steps never faltered as you passed him, but he did see your eyes rake over his figure, the corner of your lips lifting into a smirk. “Interesting.” You muttered, just loud enough for him to hear.

By then, Eddie’s mission to retrieve his vest had long since been forgotten. It wasn’t until the bell rang that the metal head realized he was stood frozen at the entrance, the other kids around him sending him weird looks. He practically floated to his next two classes, little images of you occupying his every thought.

Eddie didn’t even realize he’d left his class until he landed on the hard plastic of the cafeteria seats. The rest of the Hellfire Club was already seated, heads snapping to attention at their dungeon masters abrupt appearance. They were all quick to notice his dazed expression, Gareth taking the initiative to snap his fingers in front of his face.

“Yo, Eddie? You okay, man?”.

He did seem to return back to reality, but the dopey smile on his face stayed put. “Gentlemen,” He spoke indirectly. “I’m in love.”

The boys perked up in interest. “In love? With who?” Dustin asked, nearly pushing his lunch tray aside.

Eddie didn’t get the chance to answer before a hush fell over the hoard of students in the cafeteria. They didn’t know why until Eddie heard the tell tale sound of your boots hitting the floor, the whispers as murmurs picking back up as you passed by.

He could see the moments his friends also laid eyes on you, jaws falling slack as the girl of all of their little metal head dreams walked in. Eddie couldn’t help but smirk.

“With her.” He grinned. He couldn’t take his eyes off you as you walked right up to the lunch line, the queue of teenagers parting for you like the Red Sea. Not a single person protested as you skipped in front of all of them, paying for your lunch without a care in the world.

They watched you make your way down the middle of the rows of tables, only stopping once a letterman clad arm flung itself across your shoulders.

You tensed, eyes narrowing in anger. Jason Carver gave you what you assumed he thought was a charming smirk, jerking his head in greeting. “Hi, there. You’re new, right?”

You glared at arm and then moved your gaze to his. “Hand. Off.”

Jason’s grin faltered, but he was quick to recover. “Oh, c’mon, new girl. Don’t be like that. Why don’t you come sit with me and my buddies, huh?” He spoke while bring his free hand to your other shoulder, attempting to steer you towards his table.

“I would rather slam my tongue in a car door.” You replied monotonously. “And if you don’t get your hands off me in the next two seconds, you won’t have hands.”

The jock seemed to finally realize that you were not going to be relenting anytime soon and scoffed. “Whatever. You don’t have to be such a–“

Jason cut himself off, realizing your glare on him had become deadly and you were practically white knuckling the tray of food in your hands. You tilted your head challengingly. “A what? Do you wanna finish that sentence?”

He clenched his jaw, the only thing keeping the blonde teen from cowering in front of his peers being his pride. Clearly his throat, he stepped away, hands raising in surrender and returning to his table with his tail between his legs.

You hummed in satisfaction, resuming your search for a table to sit at. Most new kids would probably find an empty table or maybe even a group of friendly enough looking kids to sit with. You, however, refused to let anyone think you were some kind of loser.

Finally your eyes landed on a table full of boys. They all wore variations of black clothing, save for the three younger looking ones who had a bit more color on them. Each had on matching white shirts with words you couldn’t read from your spot and a cartoon demon on them. You grew curious, especially after you realized the boy at the head of the table was the one you’d seen this morning.

You remember him standing at the entrance of the school, looking at you like a kid in a candy store. He was quite cute, clad in leather with an attractively disheveled look to him.

Making your decision, you changed course to the group of boys who’d all been previously looking at your until they realized you were staring back, wide eyes shifting to their food.

It’s clear they were a tad bit frightened, none of them looking up to acknowledge your presence when you stopped behind them. Rolling your eyes, you loudly cleared your throat, making them jump in their seats.

“H-hi.” The supposed leader of them spoke, looking just as flustered as his did that morning. “What, um–what can we do for you?”

“I’m gonna sit here.” You announced, glancing down at the blonde boy with curly hair in front of you. “Move over.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He squeaked, shoving at the boy next to him until they had both scooted over a seat.

The spot allowed you to sit next to the long haired boy from that morning. He kept stealing quick glances at you, the skin on his cheeks shifting from ivory to red at your burning gaze.

“Um…m-miss?” Your head snapped to the boy in front of you, curly brunette hair and slightly tan skin clad in a colorful cap and the same shirt as his friends, which you could now see read Hellfire Club.

“It’s Y/N.” You corrected.

The boy visibly gulped. “Right. Y/N. Its um-it’s great to meet you, really. And not that we mind you sitting with us–we really don’t!” He almost yelled, startling when you narrowed your eyes at him. “But, w-why…are you sitting with us?” He asked in a high voice.

You popped one of the french fries from your plate into your mouth. “You losers seem like the coolest people here.”

The oxymoron wasn’t lost on them, but they were admittedly too frightened to point it out.

“What’s hellfire club?” You asked, pointing your black painted fingernail at their shirts.

“It’s a DnD club.” The long haired boy spoke up. There was a tremble in his voice. “Dungeons and Dragons? Ever h-heard of it?”

The beginnings of your eyebrows moved closer together, the fire in your gaze making Eddie feel simultaneously afraid and a little turned on. “Do I look like a nerd to you?”

His eyes widened a bit, the depth of his brown eyes making him resembled a baby cow. “No, of course not! You look like the exact opposite of a nerd, in fact! You’re like the coolest person i’ve ever seen!”

The other boys had never seen Eddie act so flustered, yet they couldn’t blame him. Your presence alone was enough to bring a grown man to his knees, that much was evident. Eddie looked about three seconds away from passing out and they were sure he was already willing to bend to your will.

You only tilted your head curiously at the boy. There was no one at your old school that seemed to be as affected as this guy was. Even your ex boyfriend, who swore up and down that he was in love with you, never had the same twinkle in his eye as the cute metal head in front of you.

“What’s you’re name?”

If you gave credit where credit was due, the boy never broke his stare from yours. That also never happened. You were surprised at how much you enjoyed it.

He perked up, a little grin forming. “Eddie.” You raised your eyebrows. “Munson! Eddie Munson.” He added breathlessly.

The deep berry shade painted on your lips was so alluring that Eddie was practically leaning forward. The younger boys in Hellfire were half surprised he wasn’t drooling.

“I like you, Eddie Munson.” You nodded at your own words, going back to eating your lunch nonchalantly.

Oh yeah. Eddie thought. In love was an understatement.

“You’re in a band?”

Eddie jumped, startled by your voice. He’d made an offhand comment at lunch that Hellfire was held in the Drama Club room, but he hadn’t actually expected you to show up.

You weren’t even sure why you had, truthfully. Maybe it was the his big, chocolate doe eyes, or the way he looked at you like you were sent from heaven, despite the fact that not only had you only had a couple of conversations, but also that you were as far from an angel as anyone could possibly be.

And, maybe, because you had no friends.

Getting ripped from your old school where you were comfortable with your group of friends was difficult, not that you’d ever let it be known. This little group of misfit kids already looked at you like you were their savior, so you feel it’s justified to claim them as your new friends. And you weren’t too concerned about their low position in the social hierarchy of Hawkins–you had enough of a social standing to keep their heads above the water.

You were facing the wall adjacent to the door, staring at one of the many handmade posters throughout the school that read CORRODED COFFIN. There was a picture of Eddie, Gareth, Jeff and Kevin, all posed with their respective instruments and smaller letters at the bottom saying to go see them Tuesdays at The Hideout.

“Uh-yeah. Me and some of the guys from Hellfire you met the other day. Jeff, Gareth and Kev.” He explained, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. Eddie couldn’t fathom why he was feeling embarrassed right now-as if your approval of his band would make or break anything.

You let your lips form a tiny smirk, looking over your shoulder at him. “Sick name.”

Eddie could feel his heart skip, heat rushing back to his cheeks. “T-thanks. Came up with it myself.” He chuckled. “We actually play at the Hideout on Tuesdays.”

He noticed your eyebrow raised expectantly. “The Hideout! It’s a bar just outside of town. The crowds not that big, but you gotta start somewhere, right?”

You hummed in agreement, strolling over to where he was setting up the table. Eddie’s breath hitched as you stopped next to him, standing so close that he could smell your vanilla perfume, almost making him lightheaded. Did you even have a clue of what you were doing to him?

Of course, you did. You’d been trying to get Eddie to take the hint that you were into him for the past week. Five whole days of lingering touches, sultry stares and being extra pleasant just to see his cheeks and the tips of his ears turn red.

You bent over the table to pluck one of the little figures from the game board, ensuring that you back was perfectly straight to feed fuel to Eddie’s fantasies.

Judging by the nearly inaudible groan that escaped him, you’d say you were successful.

“What are these?” You allow the tone of your voice to drop an octave, the sound more alluring than Eddie could handle.

His brain seems to short circuit for a second, glazed over eyes staring back at you blankly, jaw hanging open slightly. Smirking, your lift a finger, pushing up the bottom of his chin until his lips met. The action seemed to pull him back into reality, clearing his throat once he realized what he opened.

“Tho-those? Those are-um…figurines! I made them for my campaign.” He choked out, backing up a little. “Helps the players feel more immersed into the story.”

You held the little figure out for him to grab, making sure to graze your fingers against his palm as you gave it to him. A shiver visibly went down his spine.

“I gotta get going.” You inform, already making your way to the door.

Eddie chased you a few steps. “Wait! Are you sure you have to go? You can always stay and watch us play. Or we can teach you and you can join our next campaign.”

You’d never admit how much the offer warmed your heart. The boys were sweet-Eddie even sweeter. It’s like you could feel them slowly taking an ice pick to your frozen heart.

“No can do.” You tsked. “I have an audition to get to.”

Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed under his curly fringe. “Audition? For what?”

“Spring musical.” You shrugged.

You could almost feel the surprised wafting off of Eddie. “Really?” He asked incredulously. “Didn’t really peg you for a theatre type.”

A chuckle left your lips. “Well, I’m a woman of many talents, Eddie. And you don’t know me.” You reminded him, trying not to let the assumption upset you.

The culture shock of moving from a performing arts high school in Los Angeles to a normal high school in the middle of nowhere Indiana was truly jarring. Not only were peoples differences accepted back home, but they were encouraged. It didn’t matter what you looked like or what your interests were as long as you weren’t hurting anyone.

You’d possessed a gift for the performing arts since you were a kid, so it was a no brainer for your parents to enroll you into a performing arts high school, despite it being an hour drive. Your mother just wanted was your best for you and your father wanted what was best for your families reputation.

They’d split up halfway through your sophomore year, and while your father still sent monthly checks to help pay for school fees, your mother was struggling to pay the rent for your new two bedroom house.

She’d always wanted you to be successful when you got older especially after the divorce. Having to depend on someone else just to live was fine and dandy until you were kicked to the curb, left to fend for yourself with only a couple thousand dollars to your name.

Your incident at school only gave your mother a reason to leave California, choosing instead to move to Hawkins which had both a few family members and a lower cost of living.

Eddie’s chin dropped as he grinned at the floor. “Guess you’re right about that one. We could change that?”

Both of you seemed equally surprised at the suaveness of his offer and the fact that he got through it without stuttering.

You smirked. “We could. Not tonight.”

The heavy steps of your boots echoed as you made your way out of the room, Eddie left to watch your hips sway with flushed cheeks and a racing heart.

You were becoming impatient.

Two weeks had gone by and yet Eddie still hadn’t made a move. It was a bit infuriating, to say the least. You were practically always all over him, and while it was obvious he welcomed the attention, he still hadn’t gotten passed being flustered.

You really didn’t know what else to do, never having been in this situation before.

You didn’t ask people out, people asked you. With past boyfriends, they’d ask you out within a couple of days if you showing interest. But you’d met Eddie’s friends, you’d attended both Hellfire meetings and Corroded Coffin shows, he practically melted into the floor anytime you said his name. What was holding him back?

These questions were constantly on your mind, especially during times like these, when you walked through the school hallways together, so close that your knuckles grazed his as you walked.

Eddie and you share a fifth period, as you discovered on that fateful first day. You’re nearly to the classroom when you both spot a crowd forming in the middle of the hallway, murmurs of ‘cheerleaders’ and ‘hellfire freaks’. It’s enough to send you stomping towards them.

Sure enough, once you’ve shoved your way past the crowd, you spot a trio of cheerleaders cornering Dustin and Mike against the row of lockers. There’s a singular jock standing a few feet away and it takes you a second to realize he’s holding back Lucas by his biceps.

You don’t bother to listen to what the main cheerleader is cackling about before you slide yourself in between her and the freshman.

“Hello.” You interject. Her face calls for a second and you detect a bit of fear before she sticks up her chin with feigned indifference.

“Hi!” She grins back, like she hadn’t just been terrorizing a couple of fourteen year olds. “You’re the new girl, right? I’m Victoria.”

You smirk back and introduce yourself, reveling in the way her cronies seem to tremble in your presence. Even the jock had let go of Lucas, though neither of them moved.

“What seems to be the problem here?” You asked politely. You heard Eddie snicker.

“Oh, nothing really.” She replied, waving her hand dismissively. “Just had to remind the freshman of their place. You get it, right?”

You had no doubt that the confrontation stemmed from a smart remark by Dustin, maybe even Mike. But you’d taken Eddie and his band of losers under your wing, and you were nothing if not loyal.

“Can I just say,” You ignore her question. “You’re really pretty.”

She seemed surprised, but still held a hand to her heart like it was the sweetest compliment she’d ever received. “Oh, my gosh, really? Thanks.”

It didn’t escape you that she hadn’t bothered to return the compliment, not that you needed it. “Totally. And your hair is just so nice.” You say, gesturing to her long, clearly unnatural, blonde ponytail. “It would really be a shame if something happened to it, huh?”

Her face fell. “What?”

“Yeah. Like if someone, I don’t know, took a pair of scissors and just-“ You made a cutting motion with your fingers. “Chopped it all off.”

Victoria scowled, suddenly realizing the insincerity of your kindness. “Are you threatening me?”

You tilted your head to the side, shrugging. “Do I need to be?”

The cheerleader huffed. “Look. I don’t know what your problem is-“

“Oh, don’t worry. We’re getting there.” You assure. “You’re gonna leave these boys alone. Do you understand me?“

Victoria scoffed, looking back to her friends for help. One of them had witnessed your collection of scissors after asking you for a pencil. She rapidly shook her head at her friend.

“And what’s gonna happen if I don’t?” She challenged. The roll of your eyes was almost involuntary.

“Oh, my god.” You groaned. “Did you not just hear me? Did all that bleach in your hair burn the little brain cells you had?” Your face neared hers threateningly. Her eyes widened in fear and you could hear her breathing pick up. “Leave these kids alone, or I will be forced to make good on my promise. Do you understand me?”

She hesitantly nodded. “Good. Now get out of my face.” She seemed frozen in her spot. “Now!” Your voice boomed, startling everyone in the crowd that had gathered around you. Christina sprinted away, her friends not far behind her.

You sighed. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom before class.” You turn to Eddie, amusingly aware of the dazed look in his eyes as he stared at you. “I’ll meet you in there?”

You were walking away before Eddie could respond.

Eddie, along with Dustin, Lucas and Mike watched as you glided away, mouths hung open and hearts in their eyes.

“Eddie?” The metal head responded with a half-assed noise of acknowledgment. “If you don’t make a move, I will.” Dustin said.

“Not a chance, Henderson.”

Eddie didn’t think his day could get any worse.

He’d already bombed his history test, forgotten his money for lunch, had chocolate milk spilled on his shirt, and now his piece of shit van wasn’t starting.

Wayne had been telling him for days to go to the garage to get it looked at after Eddie told him it had been taking a few seconds too long to start up. His uncle had worked there before leaving to work at the plant, but they still gave the Munson’s discounts whenever they came in.

But Eddie had been swamped with homework and his new campaign for Hellfire, and it had just slipped his mind.

Unfortunately, there would be no time for another reminder as his engine pitifully sputtered before eventually shutting down.

“Shit!” Eddie cursed, slamming his hands down on the steering wheel angrily.

He would call the garage to come tow the van, but he didn’t know the number by heart. He’d stayed after school for mandatory tutoring forced upon him by the counselor, so it was well passed 6.

Wayne had probably already left for work, which left Eddie to try and think of literally anyone’s number until he found someone who could pick him up.

Eddie begrudgingly left the van, dragging his feet to the schools outside phone. He only made it about halfway when he heard the double doors open. He was surprised to see you walk out, and he made his surprise known by calling out your name.

“Y/N?”

Your head shot up, eyebrows furrowing when you realized it was him. “Eddie? What are still doing here?”

“Uh,” He chuckled a little, kicking a bit of gravel. “I had to stay after for tutoring, and now my van won’t start, so…” He glanced up, clearing his throat. You were gazing at him with an unreadable look in your eyes, and it was difficult for him not to squirm. “What-um…what are you doing here so late?”

You pointed your thumb behind you, gesturing to the doors that a few other students were now exiting. “Callbacks.”

“Oh, yeah! You had auditions the other day.” He grinned, snapping his fingers in recognition.

You couldn’t help the way your lips turned up, not in a smirk, but a genuine show of bashfulness. You’d be lying if you said Eddie’s presence was beginning to have an affect on you as well. At first it was just nice to have someone so blatantly infatuated with you, but it wasn’t long before you realized just how easy it was to enjoy everything about Eddie.

He was sweet, even when you couldn’t help but snap and say something rude or defensive. Old habits die hard and your abandonment issues made some of them even harder to shake. Still, Eddie never even flinched, and in just a few weeks of knowing each other, he’d easily figured out exactly what to say to calm you down.

Eddie was also deeply misunderstood, which you connected with on a deeper level that most even knew. When you claimed the Hellfire boys as your new friends, you were none the wiser of the rumors of them being a satanic cult. It wasn’t until later that same day that you heard it for the first time and you almost laughed out loud. None of those boys had the capability to hurt even a fly, much less perform a human sacrifice.

“What was the musical again?” He asked, rocking back and forth on his heels.

You chuckled, “Grease.” Neither of you realized that you had both subconsciously moved closer to each other.

“Right! You make it in?” Eddie had yet to hear you sing, but he had a feeling you were most likely extremely talented. You just had that air about you-something he could recognize as a musician himself.

He was slightly surprised to see a genuine smile appear on your face. “Yeah,” You replied, your heeled left foot crossing over your right to hold your weight. “Rizzo.”

Eddie nodded but you could see the bit of confusion swimming in his eyes. Not shocking–Eddie didn’t really seem like the type to enjoy musical theater.

“You have no idea what I’m talking about.” The words came out more like a statement than a question and the two of you laughed a little. The sound that you made nearly made his knees buckle.

“Honestly, no.” Eddie grinned. The little scrunch of his nose and the flush across his cheeks sent a funny feeling floating through your tummy. “But I have no doubt you deserve the role more than anyone. And I can’t wait to watch.”

The amused expression hadn’t left your face and you lowered your chin, eyes slightly narrowed. “You would willingly go watch a school musical?”

Eddie shrugged nonchalantly. “If you’re in it? ‘Course. I wouldn’t miss that for the world.”

In that moment, it was like a switch flipped in your brain. From the outside, Eddie couldn’t tell that there were a million thoughts swarming around in your brain. Suddenly, any morsel of patience you had left waiting for Eddie to make a move vanished.

“You said your van won’t start?” He looked a little confused at the subject change, but nodded regardless.

“Yeah, that’s what I came over here for.” Eddie told you, pointing back at the schools phone. “Was gonna call someone to come get me.”

You silently weighed your options, before making a decision.

“I could give you a ride.” You said, eyes peering at Eddie with thinly veiled mischief.

Eddie’s eyebrows raised and he smiled in surprise. “Really? Yeah, that would be great, thanks.” He hoped he didn’t look as nervous to be in a small, enclosed space alone with you, even for just the few minutes it would take to get to the trailer park.

He followed you to your car, hesitating a bit to climb into the passenger seat. The first couple minutes of the ride were silent, but not uncomfortable, until he spoke up. “I can get you some gas money. Just need to do a few more sales.”

You frowned and shook your head, waving a dismissive hand at him. “You don’t need to do that. I offered to give you a ride, I don’t need gas money.”

Eddie opened his mouth to respond when you suddenly pulled over to the side of the road. “What are you doing?”

“Speaking of gas.” You say, calm as ever. “Looks like we’re out.”

Eddie looked a little panicked and instinctively glanced at the dashboard. His eyebrows furrowed. “The gauge says you have a full tank.”

“Yeah, try not to talk.”

He didn’t have time to even be confused before he felt your hand grasp his chin, pulling his face towards you and pressing your lips to his. A moan of surprise came from the back of his throat, but his lips were quick to move against yours.

Eddie reluctantly pried himself away, breathing heavily. “I-I’m sorry. Not that I’m like, complaining-because I’m not at all, trust me-but wha-what is happening right now?”

Your thumb softly stroked against where it rested on his cheek. “I’m kissing you, Eddie.”

The metal head nodded rapidly in agreement. “Yeah, yeah, no, I get that.” His hand raised to wind around your wrist. “I’m just-uh…” His chest still raised and fell, lips swollen and tinted with your burgundy lipstick. “Just a little confused, I guess.”

You pressed another searing kiss to his lips before you answered. “I like you Eddie. And know you like me too. I was just tired of waiting for you to make a move.”

Eddie was the one to initiate the next kiss, scooting as close as possible to the center console to lean into you.

You let him pul away briefly, “I’m really sorry about that-“ Kiss. He whimpered. “-I gotta say, though-“ Kiss. “-I’m kinda glad-“ Kiss. “You had to make the first move.”

A content hum left your throat. “Me too.”

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separatist-apologist · 1 month

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Lying In Between The Memories

You could call it paradise but it looks just like hell to me

Summary: Following the blood rite, Gwyneth Berdara can't shake the memories of a life long-gone.

The shadowsinger can't seem to move on after five centuries of loving the same woman.

Together, they'll have to carve a new path forward.

Read on AO3 | Previous Chapter

[ongoing TW for Sexual Assault]

Azriel couldn’t say what woke him. Something was wrong—Azriel could taste fear in the back of his throat. It was enough to sit him up in bed, one hand flung out for Gwyn. Her side of the bed was empty and cold, telling him she’d been gone long enough for her warmth to evaporate, too. The mating bond was still new to Azriel—and yet he was pretty sure it wasn’t supposed to ring like an alarm bell in his chest.

Dressing quickly, Azriel made his way into the living area to find it utterly wrecked. With a deep inhale, Azriel noted that Gwyn’s scent was stronger than the underlying vanilla one just beneath…and something spicy and hot lingered just at the door.

Eris.

A growl rumbled in his throat even as he tried to reassure himself that she’d likely just walked off with the Autumn Court heir. That seemed like the kind of thing she’d do given how unconcerned for her own personal safety she was. Azriel swallowed, hand hovering over the handle of the door. In his mind, he saw that flame licking over her fingers.

Had Eris recognized something in her? Some magic that belonged to his family, some claim he thought he might have? Azriel swore, right then and there, that he’d kill Eris if he so much as shot Gwyn a dirty look, Rhys’s politics be damned.

Just outside the door, Azriel found a scene far worse than anything he’d been imagining. Guards swarmed the body of the prince, still smoking and charred from whatever had touched him. It was Eris, he lied to himself. He knew it wasn’t. Standing there, the guards all turned to look at him and Azriel knew there would be no easy escape.

Which was why he allowed them to “escort” him to the dungeons before helpfully disarming him. He wasn’t alone—in the cell that was opened for him, a familiar blonde was curled up on the floor, knees touching her chin. It was the Day Court scholar, rumbled and streaked with dirt, but otherwise unharmed.

“Where is Helion?” Azriel asked, not bothering to introduce himself.

“Gone, if he’s smart,” she replied in a sad voice. “They all are.”

They all are.

“The female I came with—”

“Gone,” the blonde informed him in that despondent voice. “Eris took her.”

“How could you possibly know that?” Azriel demanded, turning the full force of the spymaster onto the female before him.

“Because I saw him, you overgrown bat,” she snapped in response. “He shattered the wards in the palace—letting them think I did it—and raced off to Prythian before he could be blamed for what he did to the prince.”

“I’ll kill him,” Azriel swore, running a hand through his hair.

“You can get in line,” she replied, words dripping with fury. Azriel didn’t bother responding to that. Where the fuck were his shadows? He wasn’t used to such silence, to not knowing everything happening around him. Had they all left with his mate? And would he be mad if they had?

Maybe a little.

Azriel wasted the morning pacing back and forth, planning his escape. He’d take the Day Court female with him, deposit her before Rhys, and then march himself into Autumn, consequences be damned. In his mind, the whole thing was a little glorious—not only did he avenge Mor by killing Eris, he killed Beron, too. Perhaps Lucien would be named the new High Lord which seemed acceptable enough, though still irksome.

He hated to see the people he disliked get something good, after all.

“They’re going to torture answers out of us,” the blonde whispered when the sounds of metal scraping against metal filled the otherwise gloomy darkness. “I’ve never been tortured before.”

Pity squeezed at him. “Whatever secrets matter to you, guard them—weave truth with lies and no matter what, don’t tell them anything to make the pain stop.”

“Why not?”

“Because the pain will only intensify,” he promised, thinking of his own methods. “If they’re going to kill us, nothing we say will convince them not to. Might as well take your secrets to your grave.”

That didn’t make her seem to feel any better. In truth, Azriel couldn’t focus on this female. Not when the door was wrenched open and the two were dragged out by guards wearing chain metal gloves. The female dug in her heels, kicking and thrashing which was, in Azriel’s opinion, a waste of time and energy. She’d wear herself out before the actual torturing even began.

Azriel was joined by all but one of his shadows just in time for his wrists to be shackled over his head.

Eris took Gwyn, they whispered frantically. Azriel needed to free himself to get to her—and in order to free himself, he needed to be alone. He met the blank, bored stares of the Fae males before him and he knew, without needing to ask, that he was going to be suspended like he was for hours.

Grit your teeth, he told himself, remember you have had worse.

Nothing King Gunnar subjected him to could be worse than what he’d endured at the hands of his fathers. And if it was, it certainly wasn’t worse than what he’d been subjected to at the hands of Rhysand’s father. Azriel could withstand immortal levels of pain without cracking and as the door swung shut behind his torturers, Azriel opened a long forgotten door in his mind.

It was where he’d once hidden as a boy, shielding his mind from the pain of his body. He could get through anything so long as he had that little retreat, along with the reminder the pain was merely temporary.

No questions were asked at the beginning. Azriel had been prepared for that. Better to merely hurt for pains sake and then, once the subject was desperate, begin asking casual questions. What Azriel hadn’t expected was the King himself to enter, drinking in the sight of his sweaty, bloody form. The only thing keeping Azriel on his feet was sheer will—the restraints holding his arms up were useless at that point.

Were he to slump, he’d break both his wrists and dislocate his shoulders. Azriels shadows, hidden in the dark, swarmed in that unseen space, whispering a warning only he could hear.

Don’t trust him, don’t trust him, don’t trust him—

Azriel didn’t need to be told as much.

“Your…friend…was she? Gwyneth? Killed my son.”

Azriel didn’t react at all, unwilling to betray Gwyn at all. If she had killed Kai—and he knew she hadn’t—Azriel assumed her reasoning made sense. And if her reasons had been nonsense, he still would have stared that ancient male down and dared him to do his worst.

Azriel would go to his grave before he betrayed his own mate.

“Tell me where she is, and I’ll release you to your lord.”

Azriel inclined his head to the side and then, as Gunnar approached, spat on his boots. Blood splattered against the crisp white of his trousers, filling Azriel with animal pleasure. Next time it would be Gunnar’s blood, and not Azriel’s, that decorated his clothes.

He merely needed a reprieve.

“Do you hear that?” Gunnar asked, ignoring the insult as the Day Court female’s screams echoed around them. “I don’t think she’ll hold up as well as you have. You can do this for days, can’t you?”

Again, Azriel refused to respond.

“You know, I heard a rumor about your kind,” Gunnar continued, sidestepping Azriel. He reached for one of his wings before Azriel could stop him, slicing with a knife held in his hands. The pain was white hot like a branding iron was taken to his flesh and his mind. He couldn’t help but jerk away, causing the metal rings to clank loudly overhead.

“I guess what I heard was true,” Gunnar said, watching red blood streak down the onyx wings. “Would they grow back if I cut them off?”

Azriel’s heart splattered at his feet. No, they wouldn’t. If Gunnar ordered his men to cut Azriel’s wings at the root, he’d spend the rest of his life without them, wishing he did. The thought of being an Illyrian without wings—of the disgrace—made bile pool in his stomach. Before that moment, Azriel hadn’t been afraid, only angry.

But now he was scared. Losing his wings was worse than death. For the first time in his life, Azriel was tempted to beg—to plead.

And still, he refused.

“I’ll need a bigger knife,” Gunnar mused, looking at the rather pathetic blade in his hand. “Maybe yours?”

Nothing. Azriel didn’t care if Gunnar had truthteller, didn’t care if he decided to hack at Azriel’s wings. He focused himself with the reminder that if Rhys knew what was happening, he’d be coming. And the moment Rhys and Cassian and Feyre and Nesta descended on this place, they’d leave it in ruin. They would come.

They would come.

Even for him. Even though he didn’t deserve it, even though he’d made a mess of everything. Azriel lifted his chin and squared his shoulders, willing his traitorous heart to slow.

“You could avoid all this, of course,” Gunnar continued, ever reasonable even with Azriel’s blood splattered against his clothes. “Tell me where your female companion has gone.”

Azriel nodded his head, beckoning for the king to come closer. Gunnar did—the utter fool. Azriel couldn’t help his laugh when he smashed his face against Gunnar’s, forehead colliding with the kings very fragile, very breakable nose. Gunnar swore, stumbling back with one hand covering the injury as Azriel threw his head back in a hoarse laugh.

He’d die before he told the Montessere royals anything about Gwyn.

“You’ll regret that, brute,” Gunnar snarled, beckoning for the heavy door to be opened. Azriel let his laugh trail after the king like one of his shadows, silenced only when the heavy, iron door slammed shut behind him. Mercifully, Azriel was alone.

He counted in his head, forcing himself to go slow even when he wanted to race through the numbers and free himself. He wasn’t going to show his hand only to end up shackled all over again. When he emerged, it would be like death itself.

And Azriel’s retribution would be vicious in its intensity.

No one came by the time he finished.

“Now,” he whispered to his shadows. They darted and swirled around him, slipping through the cracks of the locks holding him. He heard them whispering to each other before the locks clicked and he was freed, knees buckling beneath the full weight of his body. It was tempting to sink to the floor and regain himself and Azriel knew if he did, he might not get back up.

All he wanted was to sleep. His wing burned from the wound, still knitting itself together. He’d be able to fly on it, but it would be excruciating. Telling himself he’d suffered far worse, Azriel pushed his way into the dungeon to follow the sounds of pleadings and screams. Helion might have been content to leave this female behind, but Azriel was not.

“Cover me,” he murmured, fading into the darkness as his shadows obscured his form. All Azriel would allow himself to focus on was escape, forcing him to push all thoughts of Gwyn aside. She would be fine, he told himself. He’d trained her well. And still, fear tried to grip his heart, icy cold and unyielding. She’d suffered enough and he’d sworn no more harm would come to her.

He’d failed her already. No wonder she couldn’t feel the bond between them. Maybe she recognized she deserved better than a male that couldn’t even keep her safe. Shaking his head, Azriel banished the thought. There would be time enough for her to break their mating bond but for now, she was stuck with him whether she liked him or not. All he needed to do was get out and find her—and bring her home.

But first, a little bloody revenge. Peering into the other holding cell, Azriel found the blonde hanging from the chains by her wrists, blood pooled around the white of her dress. She was merely whispering, “please stop,” over and over through raw, chapped lips. Even Azriel would have quit by then, satisfied she knew nothing of use. Now they cut at her simply for the sake of hurting her—a lazy brutality Azriel couldn’t abide by.

He didn’t need his dagger to kill the three males inside. All Azriel needed was his own hands, darting from the shadows to rip open their throats in a violent display of fury. The Day Court female didn’t scream, lifting her head to watch with what he swore was approval. Perhaps this was revenge for her, too—though in truth, Azriel only thought of his own anger, his own retribution.

“We need to go,” Azriel told her once three headless bodies lay broken at his feet. He didn’t dare look at the heads, uninterested in seeing the bloody pulp that remained. There was enough tissue splattered against the wall, besides. No one would be getting up anytime soon.

“Arina,” she whispered, crumpling into his arms once she’d been freed. Azriel merely hauled her up against his chest, undeterred by her weakness. He merely strode out, snatching up his dagger from a nearby table as he did. It was almost laughable how easy it was to get outside, slipping through a servants door in the wall straight into a courtyard.

Of course, the sight of the pair of them sent everyone into a frenzy, but Azriel was as quick as he’d ever been. Groaning slightly, he kicked off the ground before anyone got within a hundred yards of him, airborne before they could scramble for arrows. He’d told himself he was prepared for the pain, for the strain his injured wing felt beneath their combined weights.

He needed only to get far enough away he could winnow.

“You’re falling!” Arina cried, arms around his neck.

“Stop talking,” Azriel ordered, aware his voice sounded disoriented. With his vision blurred at the edges, Azriel took them higher into the clouds, blinking against the blinding sun overhead. Wind pushed them along, helped by the female he carried. He wanted to thank her for blowing it against his dripping face but his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth.

They weren’t going to make it.

Screwing up his face, Azriel thought of home. He thought of Rhys and Cassian drinking on the steps to the River House, laughing in a heap over some inappropriate joke. He saw Feyre holding Nyx who fisted at her hair, a smudge of blue paint on her cheek. Mor was there, grinning ear to ear while Amren scowled, telling Mor of all the ways he, Cass, and Rhys had been a disappointment in recent days. He saw Nesta sitting just inside, one leg crossed while the other bounced, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

And he saw Gwyn, perched on the edge of Nesta’s chair, talking a million miles a minute to Emerie, who was seemingly the only person in the world who could understand every word spilling from her lips.

Home. Azriel thought about home.

Take me home.

Shadow enveloped them both, sending them careening wildly before they collapsed against grass in a graceless heap. Blinking, Azriel recognized the hazy mountains half hidden in fog in the distance. And he recognized the female voice crying his name.

“Azriel,” Feyre cried, her soft hands touching his face. “Get Rhys—bring me the High Lord—!”

Her words blurred along with his vision and try as he might, Azriel couldn’t get any of the words out. He could feel her soft presence in his mind, could hear her speaking to him.

Show me what happened, Az, Feyre murmured lovingly, fingers still caressing his cheek. Let me in.

Rhys would have merely shattered Azriel’s defenses but Feyre, ever cognizant of what it felt like to have no choice at all. She’d let him take his secrets to the grave if he wanted and would have advocated for Rhys to leave him be, as she’d done so many times before. Azriel let her in gratefully, rolling onto his back while Feyre pressed something wet to his lips.

It was blood.

He tried to push her away but the High Lady ordered, “Drink,” and Azriel’s body complied before he could balk. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Azriel remembered her blood was the very same that ran through Thesan and Feyre was trying to heal him. He was too focused by her presence in his mind, flipping through the day's events frantically.

“It doesn’t make sense,” she whispered just as she stumbled into Azriel’s memories with Gwyn. He snarled without meaning to, elicting a louder, angrier roar from the descending High Lord.

“It’s fine, I’m fine,” Feyre breathed as Rhys dropped to his knees beside them. “I should have—oh, but Az that’s so wonderful—I should have asked first, I didn’t know, didn’t think…”

“I want her back,” Azriel whispered, his consciousness fading. Forcing himself to look Feyre in the eye, Azriel said, “I want her back.”

It was the last thing he remembered.

GWYN:

“You don’t have to do this, Eris,” Gwyn said for what must have been the millionth time that day. “Just let me go. I won’t tell anyone anything.”

“Liar,” Eris replied smoothly, fingers grazing the small of her back as he pushed her forward.

“You’ll regret this,” she warned, certain Azriel must be awake by then. Was he looking for her? Did he even care?

Yes, she thought firmly. Even if he didn’t know what she was to him, Gwyn was certain her disappearance would matter to him. Even if his only fear centered around Nesta’s fury, Gwyn believed Azriel would come for her.

“You’re not the only one with loved ones on the line. The easier you make this, the faster we can be done with the entire thing,” Eris warned, stopping her before two massive, wooden doors carved with an image of a terrifying dragon bellowing fire. The Vanserra crest? She couldn’t ask Eris, though she wouldn’t have even if she’d had the time. The only thing Gwyn wanted to ask Eris was where his heart—if he had one—was so she could rip it from his chest and shove it down his throat.

Eris was bringing her to Beron Vanserra. Seated atop a massive, hollowed out oak tree, the High Lord of Autumn was a terrifying sight. The rest of his sons stood just beside him, stairstepped in height leading up to the dais their father was perched atop. The Lady of Autumn sat beside him in a smaller, less ostentatious throne and crowned in burnished leaves wrapped around her pretty, auburn hair.

She leaned forward when Gwyn was pushed in, russet eyes shining. Gwyn searched her features for a moment, looking for anything of Catrin only to be left wholly empty. Their mother had always said Catrin came from Spring—moody and turbulent—and Gwyn from Autumn—firey and brash. She could see herself in the Lady of Autumn which did nothing to temper the fear running rampant through her.

Beron Vanserra didn’t move when Gwyn arrived at the foot of the dais. She wasn’t so rebellious she couldn’t bow, a show of self-preservation rather than deference. Eris’ knee hit the wood floor beneath them, eyes averted while Gwyn remained on her feet.

Rhysand was her High Lord—there was no law that said she was required to reside where her ancestors had, and no law that forced her to acknowledge a foreign High Lord as her own. Beron must have wondered, too, because he barked out, “Kneel.” The punch of magic made her chest ache though Gwyn was able to withstand the onslaught and remain as she was.

“Why am I here?” she asked, terrified to look up.

“My sister,” the Lady of Autumn breathed to the room of Vanserra’s, “had a son.”

Gwyn only sighed.

“He died in the war,” the Lady continued, her voice rich with her regret. “They all did. I thought they’d all been lost and then Eris said…”

Gwyn dared to look up at her, wishing this could be a happier reunion. All she could think about was Azriel—did he think she’d left him? That the night they’d spent together meant nothing to her and she was merely bored? The fear she might hurt him clawed at her chest, making her desperate to return to him. Maybe once things were settled on the continent and with her mate, she could return to Autumn and sort the entire mess of her lineage out.

“You’re certain she was Cyra’s?” Beron Vanserra asked his wife, his voice softening around the edges.

“I’m certain.”

“Then she stays,” Beron announced, not bothering to consult with Gwyn at all. A scream all but erupted in her throat, swallowed when Eris’s hand snaked beneath her dress to squeeze her ankle in warning. Shut up, he warned silently. Gwyn did as she was told, daring to look up at the High Lord. “At least until we can make a proper exchange for her. Give her comfortable accommodations and instruct her on how females conduct themselves within the walls of the Forest House.”

And that was that. Gwyn was swept out of the room by Eris, fingertips pressed into the small of her back. Neither of them spoke until they were back in the hall, and when Gwyn attempted to tell Eris where he could shove his hospitality, he said, “Watch your mouth.”

“You don’t know what I was going to say,” she replied, petulant and frustrated.

“I know that look on your face,” Eris replied smoothly, running a hand through his perfect hair. “You should be thanking me.”

“Thanking you for what? Kidnapping me? Holding me captive while you try and hold your brother captive? Rhysand will never—”

“Shut your fucking mouth,” Eris hissed as they passed a group of silent courtiers, all staring at the pair. Fine, she thought, privately seething. Gwyn said nothing until Eris all but shoved her into a bed chamber she didn’t bother observing. All she saw was a glass door leading toward the woods and the escape route she’d take the moment Eris stopped talking.

“You can’t say whatever you want here. People are listening,” he told her, fingers curled around her upper arm as he led her deeper into the room. “You can do nothing but sit here and wait. If you do what I know you’re thinking about, twelve dogs will rip you to pieces before you ever get close to another Court's borders. There won’t be enough pieces to burn.”

“I’m going to kill you,” Gwyn threatened, rounding on him.

“You can get the fuck in line,” Eris retorted hotly, cheeks flushed red with anger. “I’ll be dead before you ever get your turn. I saved you from the wrath of Montessere.”

“Why?”

Eris merely stared her down. “My reasons are my own. There is no where to go—”

“When Azriel finds out—”

“He can get in line, too. Right behind you,” Eris all but snarled, turning his head angrily. “I left things behind, too. People I—” he took a breath rather than betray himself. “All in due time.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“I don’t care,” Eris replied in that irritating way of his. “If you make me chase you down tonight, you’ll live to regret it—”

“No, Eris Vanserra, you will live to regret bringing me here,” she retorted, rising to her full height. It didn’t intimidate him in the slightest but Gwyn meant every word she said. She had never bowed before the whims of more powerful men, even if it meant endangering her own life. She wasn’t about to start now, either. Eris had taken it upon himself to get her out, but Gwyn needed to go back. She needed to get Azriel and she needed answers.

What had that creature been? There had been no time to truly think about it given how quickly everything happened and yet Gwyn knew she was close. It had been that damn Day Court scholars fault, really—if she hadn’t stolen Gwyn’s cipher, Gwyn would have gotten back into bed with Azriel and everything would be fine.

Maybe even Kai would be alive.

“I already regret bringing you here,” Eris grumbled, turning his back on her. “Don’t try and leave, Gwyn. I swear to the Mother above, you will not make it out alive and I do not want problems with Night.”

Eris turned to leave, confident he’d gotten the last word. Gwyn wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. Eris didn’t know to be afraid of her—yet. But she knew he was afraid.

“He’s my mate,” she whispered, delighted when Eris froze, his whole body going taut. “And when he finds you…”

Gwyn didn’t need to say. Eris merely glanced over his shoulder, strange look on his face. “Then he knows how I feel right now.” Eris still got the last word, cryptic as it was. Gwyn didn’t have it in her to care, either. Whatever inner turmoil he had wasn’t her problem. Maybe she would have cared had he come to her as a cousin interested in reconnecting rather than kidnapping her. Gwyn merely waited, deciding she’d do what Eris had warned her not to, and make a break for it.

Pacing, Gwyn waited for the sun to set. She ignored servants who slipped in and out, turning down her bed and fussing with her clothes and hair in an attempt to make her look nice. Gwyn was impatient with the whole affair—how did people like Eris stand it? She imagined this was the life Nesta had once been used to. Gwyn could picture imperious Nesta here, looking down her nose at everyone and making even the terrible Eris Vanserra shake in his expensive, polished boots.

No one had ever waited on her hand and foot—she’d always been responsible for herself. As nice as it would have been to be doted on, she didn’t think she could stand a lifetime of people bowing and scraping.

The moment the moon replaced the sun, Gwyn yanked open the door that led outside. Cool air curled around her face, the smell of it all wrong. Perhaps her grandfather had lived here, and some memory of this place lingered in her blood. It wasn’t strong enough to make her want to stay, or to feel like home. She felt like an intruder, an outsider trapped among the rot. She was a shadow among the leaves, ancient among new death.

And she wasn’t alone. Gwyn made it to the treeline with massive wings spread themselves out, blotting out the sliver of moonlight spilling among the grass.

Emerie grinned at her as Nesta appeared, sword casual over her shoulder. “Heard you needed a rescue.”

Gwyn’s relief was palpable. “You found me.”

“Did you doubt us?” Nesta asked, pulling Gwyn into a hug.

“Never,” Gwyn said, blinking rapidly against the hard leather covering Nesta’s shoulder. “But I was starting to worry.”

“Well, cast your worries aside because the cavalry has arrived,” Emerie said, resting her chin atop Gwyn’s head.

“Will you take me home?” Gwyn asked them.

Emerie and Nesta held out their hands and Gwyn took them like a lifeline.

“Let’s go.”

#gwynriel #now i get to nap

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lilpotatjj · 2 months

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Congratulation...Captain?

Chapter 6

"I'm sorry Vic, but I have to disappoint you. There's nothing going on between them. It's more like a bad atmosphere between the two of them," you drink your coffee and empty your cup, hoping they believe you. "Too bad, I had another 5 dollar bet that something was going on," Travis pouts and everyone has to laugh. "All right, work calls!", Vic shouts and you all leave the beanery.

"They've made bets that there's something going on between you and Sullivan," you grin and snuggle closer to Andy. "I don't know what's going on with him... maybe he wants to be captain again and sees me as a thorn in his side. He's been acting strange for days now." Andy takes you tighter in her arms and covers you more with her cuddly blanket. "Well... he can wait a long time. Because our captain is a stunner...and..." you kiss her tenderly between each word "...absolutely hot" She smiles under the kiss, takes your cheek with one hand and strokes it gently just to deepen the kiss even more. Everything about Andy drives you crazy. Her smell...her manner...her hair and the fact that she keeps whispering dirty words to you in spanish.

The days fly by and everything runs more smoothly. No big missions and you both spend every free second together being close and soaking up every moment from each other.

"ok 19, it's New Year's Eve! Means what?" Andy walks through the line and stops in front of a probie, looking at him with an intimidating look.

"uuuh meow...she's extending her claws," Travis whispers to Vic, who smirks at Travis carefully mimicking a cat. However, both immediately stand up straight again when they feel Andy's gaze on them and apologize. Her gaze returns to the probie and she raises an eyebrow. "a....so there could be increased fire incidents due to...all the fireworks...?" he stutters and looks down at the floor, intimidated. "Is that a question or your answer?" she asks.

"Answer...Captain!"

"right, so guys, stay on call! I want to see maximum commitment from you!"....19!"

"19!" and with this exclamation the group splits up.

"You really showed them today, Captain..." you join her in the office and close the door and curtains. Andy smirks cheekily and gets up to join you. "Well...it doesn't hurt to show a little...fire now and then." She pulls you close and kisses you demandingly. "we...need to stay on call..." Andy tries to resist the urge to undress you on the spot. "then stop being so dominant...that's hot..." you continue to provoke her and undo the first button of her shirt as the first alarm sounds.

Every vehicle is needed, as well as every single unit of the 19. Arrived, the basement of a house is on fire. Andy gets out and gets a picture of the situation within seconds.

"Ruiz and Bishop to the water supply! Warren and Gibson, you take care of the injured who are being rescued, keep me informed if I need to call for extra help! Hughes, Y/N and Sullivan contain the fire, make sure it doesn't spread to the neighboring houses! Montgomery you check the power lines and tell the utility company to shut off the power as a precaution!

"me and Hughes are going in!" said, done, and you and hughes disappear between all the smoke.

"Y/N, Hughes what's your situation?" Andy asks.

"no people in there! we'll keep looking" you both head towards the basement and start putting out the fire.

"ok copy" Andy says as one of the homeowners runs up to her and wails.

"my beautiful fireworks! please don't let them destroy everything!" Andy looks at him, confused. "what? where? in the house?" Andy gets nervous.

"in the basement, we tinkered around and made our own fireworks. we want-" Andy immediately grabs her walkie talkie. "Y/N! Hughes you have to get out of the house now! I repeat, everyone out of the house now! This is a powder keg!"

You both exchange a panicked look and immediately start running, up the stairs and out of the house just as a huge blast behind you tears you away. The entire house is torn apart, pieces of debris fly around and a huge black cloud rises. Andy and the others immediately run to you and drag you both away from the rubble field. Andy looks at Hughes who is being taken care of and then runs straight to you. "Y/N hey, come on, come on!" she feels your pulse and gently slaps your face. "Ouch....didn't know that you get beat'n from the captain too..." you smile and Andy grins in relief.

You two will be taken care of the call and in the meantime the fire will be put out and the rest of the rubble field will be secured.

"Not bad Herrera, dividing the team correctly in such a tricky situation is a big challenge. Good job." Chief Ross smiles and Andy nods gratefully. "Thanks Chief"

"Make sure you don't get any more injuries on your team... the FDP is keeping a close eye on you..." she whispers to Andy and leaves, leaving Andy with a questioning face.

The cool evening wind blows Andy's hair as she watches the sunset on the roof from the station. "I wish you were here and could see me... you would certainly be proud..." Andy whispers quietly and looks wistfully into the distance as you also enter the roof terrace. "hey...looks great...the view" you come to her and put a hand on her back.

"My father always said: If you ever become a captain, never show weakness. Lead with a firm hand and fair love." Andy swallows hard and collects her words.

"I'm sure he would be very proud of you" you smile at her and give her a kiss on the cheek. "I miss him" Andy smiles sadly and takes a deep breath. "The FDP is probably targeting me. Chief Ross spoke to me. One mistake and they'll probably write me off. Pretty unfair and misogynistic"

You look worried when Jack suddenly comes to you too. "Hey you lovebirds" He sits down on a chair with a beer in his hand. "I didn't hear anything," says Andy and sits down at the table with Gibson. "I thought you would be interested in the latest" he looks at Andy with a serious expression. "Why, what's wrong?" She takes Jack's beer away and takes a sip.

"Sullivan has applied for a position as captain. Since we already have a captain here, I assume he will change the station." Andy looks at Jack with a serious expression and switches to you. You see the anger rising in her and she stands up. "What's wrong? Did I miss something?", Jackson senses the change in mood suddenly. "That...he had planned this from the start..." Andy almost growls.

"Ok babe...take it easy" You try to calm Andy who is clenching her fists tightly.

"Wait babe?" Jack looks slightly surprised. "Shut up Gibson...oh I'll...I'll kill him..." with these words she goes into the station to confront Sullivan.

Sullivan, who is currently in the fitness room, looks up when Andy suddenly enters the room. "Captain yeah? You are a snake Robert. How long have you been planning this!?" Andy raises her voice. "I certainly deserve a position as captain. There are plenty of vacancies, or do you enjoy pushing me around just because you're a rank higher?" he puts his weight down in anger.

"The FDP Robert! It's targeting me and is literally looking for mistakes. A stupid decision and they'll take away my position as captain once and for all!" Andy is totally furious and Robert suddenly looks surprised while you arrive and listen quietly. "Andy, I didn't know that the FDP would react like that. I'll explain to them that I'm changing." Andy folds her arms.

"Oh don't act like you didn't put yourself in the spotlight. You were captain here before. That's enough for them to think like that." Sullivan steps in front of Andy so she can literally feel him. "Then make sure you do your job properly...Captain Herrera!" Andy looks after him, completely stunned. "he is the worst...I can't believe it"

Andy is angry and hesitates for a moment, looks at you and doesn't let up, which is why she runs after him. "Andy wait..-" But she doesn't listen and you follow her. "Sullivan you could have at least told me that you were planning something like that...at least that you were changing the station." When he gets to the changing room, Robert is now annoyed and snorting. "You've been completely different since the last few weeks...as if you weren't the same anymore!" Andy continues to talk to him and Sullivan stands in front of Andy again, who just gives her an angry look. "You don't have anything more to say? So you don't care about me anymore? Did the years of marriage actually mean anything to you? What's wrong with...-" Without knowing it, Robert suddenly kisses her and Andy is completely shocked at first so she can't move but realises what's happening and pushes him away.

"Are you kidding me..." she whispers quietly and can't even look him in the eyes anymore. "The reason why I'm changing is mainly because I still love you. Andy, I have to move on and that's only possible when I'm finally away from you." Andy looks at him confused, his words weigh more heavily than he thought and as Robert leaves the changing room she looks at him completely at a loss. You stand with your back next to the door, have noticed everything and don't know what to think about it all. So many thoughts swirl in your head. What if you lose her because of Sullivan. Andy didn't even say that she loves you one single time. You are nervous and go in the room to her.

AN: Welp so much is happening right now. Andy's emotional world begins to shatter. Will she give in to Sullivan's feelings?

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kai-anderson-whore · 1 year

Text

He's a cult leader (part 4) (kai Anderson x fem reader series)

Summary:y/n moved back to Michigan after her college degree in music where she reunites with an old lover kai Anderson

Chapter warnings: jerk personal trainer, mentions of dismemberment, election night

(Previous chapter)

��¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•..•°˚˚°•.•¤❅¤•.•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•. .•°˚˚

November 2016

Election night finally arrived something kai never shutted up about, driving you crazy, didn't want to vote for trump but kai convinced you to, you sat with winter watching the results, kai downstairs doing the same.

Your heart dropped when trump actually won, you wanted Hillary to win really if you didn't vote for him, maybe just maybe she would have won, you heard kai screaming "fuck you world USA, USA, U, S, A" you and winter shared a look of cringe, knowing her brother, your boyfriend will be running up those stairs to gloat.

And you were right, kai came sprinting up those stairs, entering winters bedroom a face full of cheetos black eyeliner over his eyes and a Donald trump hair style, you couldn't help bit laugh as winter kept a serious face, kai plopping on his sisters bed with a smile.

"Did come on here to rub it in" winter growled shoving him telling kai to get out, kai just sat there unphased, raising his pinky, winter interlocking hers with his.

"I'm just scared" she sighed kai leaned closer a little "everyone is" he replied you stood there observing, you were scared to, you didn't know what will happen, as for the cult we already have three members, ivy, Gary and Jack, tomorrow kai is recruiting another member Harrison a personal trainer.

You stood from the bed, tiredly striding to bed, "where you going" kai asked you shook your head, "bed kai wash that muck off your face before you have a bad breakout" you sighed leaving the siblings to talk.

Entering yours and kai's bedroom, fishing out an oversized t-shirt that belongs to kai, finding his old flannel he wore when you had first met, smiling recalling the memory.

Stripping from your clothes and throwing the flannel on having a cigarette out the window calming your nerves, "you okay?" Kai asked entering the bedroom now clean and showered not smelling of cheetos, "I'm fine kai" you sighed taking another long drag of your cigarette.

Kai was only in his boxers his big arms wrapped around your waist "you know I always thought you were so hot when you smoked and wearing my clothes" he mumbled against your shoulder, you smiled at his compliment.

"I know you tell me all the time" you chuckled taking another drag of your cigarette, kai hummed against your neck leaving a trail of kisses along your skin, sending you shivers down your spine, "what time you got your PT at?" You asked flicking the last of your cigarette away.

"Near closing time" he shrugged "wanna come with?" He smirked as you turned to face him, "why so you can watch me do squats" you teased, kai instantly got hard at the thought of you in the gym, "well yeah" he shrugged laying your body on the bed.

"I'll think about it" you giggled as kai kissed along your neck "right mister not tonight I need to be up early I have to teach some kid the guitar" you Said before anything went further not that you didn't want it to, of course you wanted to but if your late the kid kicks up a fuss.

"Mind if I tag along" kai asked knowing how much you disliked the kid since he thinks your not 'Eric Clapton good' which wasn't hard to say "Sure I need someone to restrain me from hitting a kid" you chuckled pecking his lips before getting tucked into bed.

Kai wrapped an arm around you pulling you closer to him, "goodnight" you hummed your eyes closed, legs tangled together, "goodnight y/n" he mumbled into your hair.

The next morning you were woken up by your alarm, kai was already up and getting dressed, "morning" he smiled as you lifed your tired body off the bed.

"I really can't be bothered with this kid today" you groaned flicking through your phone picking out a song to start your day, finally settling on 'dani california' by red hot chilli peppers.

Fishing out your clothes picking a pair of ripped mom jeans and one of kai's shirts, applying light makeup and throwing a beanie on along with your docs.

"Ready to go?" You ask kai who nodded holding your guitar case, as you unlock your car, kai placed your guitar in the back seat of your car before slipping into the passenger side.

You turned your heater on and the radio, singing along to 'space oddity' by david bowie "this is ground control to major tom" you belted out driving to the kid you had to teach house.

"Remember at that halloween party in college you dressed as ziggy stardust and genuinely thought you were bowie" kai chucked, you cringed at the memory.

"Don't remind me what was I thinking then the next party we went to we dressed as bowie and jagger in the dancing in the street video" you laughed, "that's right" kai recalled.

Soon enough you made it to the house of your student, kai got your guitar handing it over to you, making it to the front door giving it a knock "y/n hello, Bradley is in his room come in I'll tell him you have arrived" the mother Julia said allowing you and kai inside.

"I hope you don't mind I brought my boyfriend over with me" you smiled Julia was fine with it, you liked Julia just not her son who thought he was better than everyone for a 14 year old boy.

Julia excused herself to alert her son you had arrived, you and kai sat on the sofa waiting on Bradley, "hi y/n" Bradley entered the room with his acoustic guitar in hand.

"Hey Bradley so have you been practicing the song we been working on?" You asked he wanted to learn an easy song once he had learnt the easy chords off by heart then once he had felt comfortable with a few songs move to harder things.

"Yeah but I kind of want to learn a new song" he said "Alright how about we play love me do first then move on" you suggested Bradley nodded his head getting ready to play the song same as you

After the session you and kai had about two hours to spare till his pt session or in other words (his recruitment for world domination) making your way back home changing into some appropriate gym attire, but kai wanted to 'warm up' before you both went anywhere making you both a little bit late.

Finally making it to the gym kai wore a green sweatshirt with a grey gym top underneath along with black joggers, you wore your black gym leggings with a peach colour vest and a black sports bra underneath with a zipper.

"Kai?" The personal trainer said walking up to us "hey" kai said extending his hand out to the man "Hey Harrison wilton they assigned me to be your trainer" shaking your boyfriends hand, "I requested you" kai said, you stood there awkwardly as the men conversed.

"Really?" Harrison asked. "Yes".

"Wow that's awesome did someone recommend me" Harrison went on to ask, you really wanted to start this session now bored of the conversation.

"No no i-i saw you out on the gym floor you look strong" kai said shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Oh cool, but I mean there are bigger guys here, if that's the kind of workout your looking for" Harrison said, making you roll your eyes, "no no I mean you could move a dead body if you had too" you almost hid your face at kai's choice of words, knowing his plans for the future.

"I just meant you look... strong" kai said Harrison flashed a smile saying "okay well thank you".

"Oh I brought someone over if she could get a pt aswell" kai asked placing an arm over your shoulder "Yeah erm I think one of my colleagues are free right now" Harrison said walking off to find his colleague.

"I swear of I get one of those jerks who keeps looking at my ass or boobs I'll kill him" you groaned looking around the place noticing there are barely any woman workers.

Harrison came back with this buff guy who was already eyeing you up "this will be your trainer today" Harrison said to you, saying hi to the guy and telling him your name you both went off to do your own thing.

"So what your goals we'll start with that" the guy who's name you forgot eyeing you up like dinner on a plate,

"World domination" you joked shaking your head "I don't know my boyfriend invited me here last minute so haven't really thought of goals" you shrugged.

"How about a leg workout first?" The guy suggested to you, agreeing getting on the leg press machine working your legs as hard as you can.

You did notice your trainer staring at your ass, you let out a small smirk but not saying anything, "so your boyfriend the guy who Harrison is working with" he asked you nodded, "Yeah he's hot ain't he" you smiled looking at kai who was doing weights with Harrison talking away.

Kai eyes were on you, already sending a smirk your way but a glare to your trainers, "are you gay?" Harrison asked further along in the conversation they were having pulling kai's eye's away from yours.

"see this is what I'm talking about, labels, diversity starts with d, I, v, which is also the first three letters of divide, gay, bisexual, transgender, these are labels created by the leftist they wanna split us apart create special interest groups that put themselves over the greater good of the community" kai paused in his lecture that Harrison was invested in.

"A man with no lable has an elegance to only what is right" kai finishes "Wow your a lot smarter than most of the other guys that come in here, what kind of work do you do?" Harrison asked as kai picks the weights back up.

"Computers, coding, I guess they're called app developers now I dig it, it let's me work from home, I Don't say moneys ever been my thing, I was kinda a freak when I was a kid" Harrison took the weight off kai again as he continued to speak.

"You know y/n you could have a real man" your trainer said as you did squats with a weight on your shoulders, you rolled your eyes in annoyance with your trainer constantly hitting on you, "I have a real man" you huffed setting the weight down "and this is over for today" you panted..

"And if you look at me like that one more time I'll Gooch your eyes you" you hissed

Now walking over to Harrison and kai your douchbag trainer by your side, "try not to be intimidated" Harrison said as you were in earshot from them

"That's normal" you knew kai was talking about himself to make Harrison feel like kai should be someone to look up to.

"Listen I like pussy" kai then said you were now infront of the men eyes shot open at his bold statement "everything okay" you smiled your trainer talking to someone else "her one especially" kai sent you a wink as you wiped the sweat off your forehead "okay well I'm going to shower I'll see you in a bit" you said leaving the boys to god knows what.

In the car driving home was silent you didn't have the radio on for a change "how was your session" kai asked you let out a sigh "fine apart from the fact the trainer is a complete dick" you said the trainers words bugging you.

"How what did he do" kai asked a hand on your thigh as he drove the car, "he kept looking at my ass and tits and he said something about you" you whispered the last part "like what?" Kai then went on to ask "like I could have a real mean instead of you" you said.

"I told him you are a real man and that if he ever looks at me like that again he won't be seeing anything else" you mumbled laying your head on the headrest further.

"Good" kai said continuing to drive back home. Your mind dreaded the night knowing your legs would be in pain from exhaustion from the workout.

A few weeks later you did return to the gym with Harrison as your new trainer when kai didnt go to the gym, you had a phone call from kai to pick him up from the gym a bit past closing time, odd you thought but went anyway to see the horror of your future unfold.

Now in a motel room bathroom, sitting on the sink as kai instructed Harrison how to dismember your old trainer, your mind was foggy, kai was acting like this was normal, you heard the front door open then the bathroom you frozen seeing a woman enter.

"Harrison who's that" she asked pointing to the body half cut up in the bath "my old boss" he gulped she then turned around to you and kai "and who are they".

"Someone to believe in" he stated.

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gamerbearmira · 2 years

Note

(SA)

Alma had not been this afraid in almost forty five years. Not been this afraid since the day she went into labor with the triplets and her home was burned as she fled while still sore and bleeding. Not since her Pedro was taken from her.

But...but this was somehow worse. Worse because it wasn't raiders just killing and pillaging indiscriminately. No one specific target. Because this wasn't just bad luck.

This was worse because this had been deliberate. These teenage boys, fifteen and sixteen years old and technically men in the eyes of the community, had done it on purpose.

They claimed it was supposed to be a joke. As if a joke is dunking a girl six years their junior into the river and then tying her to a wooden stake in a shed. As if a joke was putting damp straw around her feet on the stake. As if trying to burn her alive was a joke.

As if trying to burn anyone, but especially a small not even ten year old girl, alive was a joke.

Mirabel had most certainly put up a fight. The boys had scratch's and bite marks and some bruises on them that she didn't think came from Camilo and Isabela. No those marks were made by someone smaller and Mirabel had been born Early. Too early for most to live. But...

But Mirabel is a fighter and a Miracle all of her own. She had lived. She had been a miracle baby and lived. And she had always been a fighter. And Alma could see evidence of that on the guilty party. Could hear evidence of it as Luisa spoke about how Mirabels arms hadn't just been burnt and melting but how they were rubbed raw as she fought to free herself from the stake.

Mirabel is a fighter, a survivor, a Miracle. But Alma was still scared. Because she is so small. The smallest of the grandkids with ease, even without Camilo shapeshifting, and she looks even smaller now as she lay on the wet grass with her head in her Tias lap.

Rain poured on the tarp held over her, Julieta was crumbling food and putting it in Mirabels mouth to heal her without hurting her throat too much. She inhaled a lot of smoke, her voice was raspy in a way no child's should be. Julieta said it was burnt too, both outside and inside. Her mouth was burnt.

She might never recover from that. Never be able to taste food again, never be able to eat or drink anything too hot or too cold. Most of the healing seemed focused on her legs and her lower body.

The legs that were almost pitch black and had obvious signs of skin melting and now hardening and it looked like her legs had even been fused together at one point. It was a horrible sight.

It was only thanks to Mirabels sheer stubbornness that she had still been alive when Pepa and Luisa rushed into the building upon Dolores' alarm and screaming. Something Dolores never did.

It was only thanks to Julietas healing food that she was still alive now even as she spoke of having talked to the long dead Abuelo who she only saw in pictures. As a golden butterfly so like the one Alma saw when she met Pedro landed on her nose fluttering and she rasped out a not yet.

Spoke about a new primo she was getting and how she wanted to meet him. Yes they would be going into that later but...but for now...

Alma was scared. More scared than she had been in forty years. But...

She was also furious. And as the family tended to Mirabel she slowly stood up, pressing a gently kiss to the girls hair which was burnt and horrid and smelled fiercely. They'd have to cut it later and let it regrow if that's what she wanted.

But for now. Alma stood up and there was steel in her spine and ice in her viens even as fire lit her eyes. No...not fire. Even as rage lit her eyes. She very much doubted she'd ever use fire to describe her feelings again after today.

But she stood. And her rage was nearly visible as the family shrunk back a bit, the villagers shrunk back even more. The boys who had done this had tried to run while everyone was distracted.

They ran right into two brick walls. One a short wide man like a brick house who was just as furious and explosive as his wife who had their nieces head on her lap.

The other tall and thin but muscular from all he did to help out, chopping wood required muscles and he did not ask his daughter who was already so busy to help. And unlike his explosive shorter friend. His fury was frigid and unyielding and icy. He had his axe in hand and when one boy tried to run he threw the axe so hard it went to the hilt into the ground at the boys feet.

The boys did not try to escape a second time. And Alma was on them in seconds, poison spitting from her lips like a cobra and tongue sharper than the axe in the ground.

Nah cause. Tell me why them boys tried to pull a fast one 🗿 first they tried to pull that ‘ItS juST a PrANk bRO’ bs and then tried to make a run for it. Fr thought they was boutta get away with that, ain’t no way. Fèlix and Agustín pulled up and it was all over, especially with Agustín and that axe. I’d be petrified ngl 💀💀

And poor Alma, she’s been traumatized yet again, along with everyone else. She was having flash backs and everything 😭😭 but like I understand, I mean imagine seeing your granddaughter absolutely fried because she was burned on a stake like it’s was the Salem Witch trials as a prank.

Jit trippin 😦

Alma, Fèlix and Agustín to the guys that burned Mirabel:

#my asks are open #encanto #my asks #encanto au #au #encanto mirabel #encanto alma #encanto felix #encanto Agustín #burned mirabel au

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labyrinth-runner · 2 years

Text

Hold My Hand Ch. 2

Synopsis: Jag! Reader realizes she has to try and apologize to Vice Admiral Beau “Cyclone” Simpson for getting off on the wrong foot.

Word count: 3200~

Warnings: Mentions of death (We are solving a crash case)

Pairing: Beau “Cyclone” Simpson x Reader

You could hear the wind whistling in your ears. Panic settled in your chest at the realization that the airplane you were flying no longer was closed. Wind whipped at your chest, threatening to rip you from your seat. You closed your eyes tight, hearing the alarms in the background informing you that you were losing altitude. The scent of smoke tickled your nose, alerting you to the fact that your wing was on fire. You tried to scream, but it was trapped in your chest. The alarms blared louder and louder as the hard deck came racing towards you. Your hand wrapped around the lever for ejection, but nothing happened. You tugged and tugged. The alarm rang in your ears-

You woke with a start, sitting up straight in bed. Your breathing came in pants as you took stock of your bedroom around you, your hands fisted in sheets that were wrapped around you.You gently released the sheets. Reaching over, you turned off the alarm on your side table.

6 am.

You hated having to wake up earlier than normal to account for going to a different base. Swinging your legs over the side, you got out of bed, running a hand through your sleep-tangled hair and groaning when it got caught in a knot. You padded towards your shower, knowing that the only thing that was going to get you through today was a hot shower to start and then breakfast from Spill the Beans on your way in.

The familiar lighthouse of one of your favorite coffee shop stood like a beacon of hope on your Tuesday morning. You were about to order your go-to, a La Vida Mocha and a French Toast bagel with agave and vanilla spread, when you thought that maybe you could use this as a proverbial olive branch to the Vice Admiral. You didn’t know what kind of coffee he was into, so you just got him a Hot Cinna-bee, because that was your go-to conversion drink for anyone who was new to Spill the Beans, and a plane jain bagel with plain cream cheese.

With the coffee and bagels in hand, you walked into his office, placing your offering on his desk.

He raised a brow at you, putting down his pen. “What’s this?”

“Breakfast,” you replied, plopping down into the chair you’d waited in yesterday. “We seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot, so I thought I’d bring in a peace offering.”

He looked at the coffee and bagel in front of him. “So you brought me breakfast.”

“Only a monster says no to bagels and coffee.”

“But you don’t even know my order.”

“I made an educated guess.”

He peaked in the bag, a slight tug to the corner of his lips. “A plain jane?”

“No muss, no fuss.”

He took a sip of the coffee. “Cinna-bee?”

“Well, how’d I do, Vice Admiral?” You raised a challenging brow at him.

“I prefer La Vida Mocha,” he said before taking another sip of his coffee.

You shook your head, taking a sip of your coffee. “I wasn’t big on bagels when I lived on the East Coast, but for some reason, a bagel and coffee just brings me back home.”

“Nothing beats a bagel from New York or New Jersey, just over the river,” he agreed.

“You’re from the East Coast, too?”

“Mhm. I miss the beaches, sometimes. These are fine, but-”

“No gulf stream,” you replied, eyes alight to find someone who got it.

“Exactly. You know, my dad would do the polar plunge every winter,” he replied with a shake of his head. “That was when we lived in Newport while he was going to the War College.”

“So the Navy’s in your blood,” you replied, pulling apart your bagel to eat it in pieces.

“You could say that.” He sighed, leaning back in his chair. “I suppose I should set you up with your own space here.”

“You don’t want to keep sharing a desk?” you asked with a smirk.

“Unless you plan on bringing breakfast every day...”

You felt heat spread in your cheeks. “I don’t plan on needing to extend another olive branch, Vice Admiral.”

“Cyclone.” He replied, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “You can call me Cyclone.”

You scrunched your nose up a bit. “I’ll try to remember that.”

He got up, coming around the desk to you. “There’s a conference room down the hall that you can claim. It has a white board and a cork board. I’m not really sure what a JAG needs to do their job.”

You suppressed a laugh. “Ah yes, a white board and a cork board. Truly, the only things I ever wish I had when I was doing my job.”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “3B. It’s all yours.”

You gave him a small, playful salute on your way out. “Thank you, Cyclone.”

The conference room wasn’t anything to write home about. There was a white board on one half of the front wall, and a cork board in the other half. In the middle of the room was a long conference table with chairs around it. A projector was in the ceiling. You knew it wasn’t an updated conference room, you’d seen the tech in those. This just reminded you of one of the study rooms in your college library back in the day.

No matter, it was functional and you had a job to do. Reaching into your briefcase, you pulled out your case file and began to organize the photos on the cork board so that you could see the whole crash. Then, you uncapped a white board marker and stood back.

You sighed. “What’s my angle?”

You wrote your defendant’s name on the board in script. You wrote innocent next to it. You really wanted to follow it with a question mark, but you didn’t. A person was innocent until proven guilty, and you had to remind yourself that. You still weren’t quite sure what to do next, so you made a timeline of the pilot’s flight, trying to see if something happened during the time he was in the air. It all looked like a jumble of numbers.

Taking a step back, you sat on the conference table, your feet swinging as you took it all in. The photos were gruesome, but it was hard to marry that bad of a crash with the flight data.

“Hard at work or hardly working?”

You turned to see Warlock leaning against the doorframe, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“Little bit of column A...” You tilted your head and groaned. “Maybe Column B.”

“Have you ever flown before, Lieutenant?”

You shook your head.

“So this is all pictures and data with no context,” he said with a resolute nod. “I’ll have him clear his afternoon to show you the crash site.”

“Who?”

“Cyclone.”

You swallowed a lump in your throat. You didn’t want the Vice Admiral to see you struggling this hard to do your job, especially since you were trying to appear more competent than yesterday. “Oh, you don’t have to do that. I’m sure he’s busy.”

Warlock waved you off. “He’s just set to talk to some Cadets about the Top Gun program. I can handle that.” He pointed at your data. “That’s more important.”

“Alright.”

He nodded, turning to leave. He paused. “You know, the two of you want the same thing. You want to do your job, and he wants you to be able to do your job and be able to help the pilot. He’s not your enemy.” Satisfied with his nugget of advice, he left you there.

Your shoulders drooped forward. You hadn’t viewed Cyclone as an enemy. Not really. However, you weren’t confident at how well of a working relationship the two of you could have given that you were just different people. Your short breakfast had given you some hope, though. And, you couldn’t deny that you wanted Cyclone to like you. Not just because he was a superior officer. No, your need for Cyclone’s approval was deeper than that, and you didn’t want to admit it. You’d never had a crush on another officer before, and you weren’t quite sure this was the time to have that happen. This case was already hard enough. Crushing on Cyclone would only make it harder.

The majority of your time after lunch was spent in anticipation of touring the crash. You tried reconstructing the scene on your white board, but Warlock was right. It was hard to picture it without walking the topography yourself. You couldn’t see what surrounded the area. A headache was already starting to come on as you sat back on the table, rubbing your temples with your fingers.

“That’s not very promising, Lieutenant.”

Your eyes flicked over to see Cyclone in the doorway, arms crossed in front of him as he looked at your data. “Does anybody knock on this base?”

The corner of his lips tugged up ever so slightly. “Warlock said you could use a field trip.”

“I would hardly call it a field trip.” You replied, watching him walk towards the middle of your boards. He stood directly in front of you, back to you as he looked at them. When he turned, he was standing almost between your knees.

He cleared his throat and took a step back. “I have a jeep waiting.”

You nodded, grabbing your phone and shoving it into your pocket so that you could take videos.

He walked quickly and with a purpose. You knew he wasn’t the type of man who would idle in a place. You took two strides to his one as you attempted to keep up.

You’d expected there to be a driver in the jeep, but it was just the two of you. He kept his eyes trained on the road, or at least you assumed he did because you couldn’t see with his sunglasses in the way. You could barely have a conversation over the hum of the jeep and the wind in your ears, and if you could, you didn’t know what you’d say. Not only were you driving to the sight of a plane crash, you were driving to the site where a person had died. There was a solemnity to the trip that made you feel more uncomfortable than the heat of the day. You unbuttoned the top two buttons of your shirt to give you more air, feeling like you couldn’t breathe.

The Californian desert spread out in front of you like a sea of sand. The grass was dead from the drought, turning it into a straw-like entity. Cyclone drove the jeep up a hill. As soon as the car crested the top, you could see the crash site.

Debris was strewn haphazardly as if a toddler had taken the plane and shook it empty its contents before throwing it against a rock face. The nose was smooshed into it, and one of the wings rested ten feet behind the rest of the crash. The ground was still scorched from where the plane had caught on fire.

You let out a low whistle. “It’s amazing that one of them walked away from this.”

Cyclone’s expression was blank as he scanned the site, hands on his hips. “It’s not the worst I’ve seen.”

You bit your lip. You’d forgotten that the Vice Admiral had flown for years before achieving his rank. No doubt he’d seen things, maybe even experienced them himself. “So, does anything look out of the ordinary?”

He took a few steps towards the crash, peering into the cockpit. “The seatbelt is intact.”

You tilted your head. “Isn’t it supposed to-”

“In really bad crashes, like this one, the response team would cut the seatbelt to get the pilot out as fast as possible. This one’s not cut, so the seatbelt wasn’t on properly when they got here,” he replied.

“Maybe the pilot undid it himself before he died?”

Cyclone shook his head. “You’d never undo that. If you went to eject, you wouldn’t be strapped in, and the weapons system operator sustained head trauma in the flight so he was gone before they hit the ground.” He squinted at the wreck and shook his head. “Something about this is off.”

“What is it?” You were struggling to see what he saw and that irked you.

“I don’t know. I’ve seen a lot of crashes in my time. This... this is different.”

“Foul play?” You asked on instinct.

“No. At least, not on the part of the pilot.”

The sun dipped down over the dunes on the horizon, warm reds and oranges bathed Cyclone in a warm amber glow.

“We should go, Lieutenant. It’s getting late. The desert gets cold at night.”

Almost as if on cue, you found yourself shivering at the mention of the temperature. He reached back into the backseat of the jeep and pulled out his bomber jacket, offering it to you. You shrugged the worn leather jacket over your shoulders. Closing your eyes, you drank in the sandalwood scent that washed over you as he turned on the jeep, pulling back onto the road.

“Do you want to get a drink?” He asked, driving back a little slower than he’d driven to the site.

You thought back to the wreckage, thinking back to your brother’s crash. You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I could use a drink.”

He scribbled an address down on a piece of paper and handed it to you. “See you there.”

When you got to the bar the Vice Admiral had sent you to, The Hard Deck, you were confused. The beachside establishment didn’t seem like his typical haunt. You’d expected.... well, you didn’t know what you expected, but this wasn’t it. The voices of drunken Navy officers drifted to you over the sand. Peeking in through the window, you quickly spotted the Air Boss at the bar already nursing a whiskey. With a shrug, you walked in and joined him.

“I’ll have one of whatever he’s having,” you told the woman behind the bar.

She raised a brow at Cyclone. “Didn’t think you’d have company, Vice Admiral.”

He shot her a look. “She’s just visiting.”

You didn’t know why, but his comment stung. You took a swig of the drink the bartender put in front of you, letting it burn all the way down. “Do you come here often?” You nodded towards the bartender who’d already moved on to another patron at the end of the bar.

“If you’re asking if I’m an alcoholic, Lieutenant, the answer is no. But, Penny’s bar is a particular friend to our service men and women so I like to support her business,” he explained, leaning back to look at you.

Casually, you tried to look at the signs around the bar, deciding not to scrutinize him back. You listened to the music playing from the jukebox. The sounds of pool balls clacking against each other. The laugh of the people around you. You couldn’t quite force yourself to be as jovial as them. You thought back to your conversation at the crash site.

“Not to talk about work after hours, but you mentioned seeing a lot of crashes. Have you ever crashed?” you looked down at the ice in your glass, swirling it around to avoid looking at him.

He downed his whiskey and raised a finger to Penny for another. “I’ll need at least one more drink if we’re going to talk about that.”

Your brow furrowed as a silence settled into the space between you, broken by the clink of the glass as Penny put it down in front of him. He looked deeply into the glass like it held all the answers at the bottom.

“I was in Iraq,” he eventually began. “Back when it started as the War on Terror. With a name like that, you just assumed that you were doing the right thing. You didn’t question why we were there. At least, I didn’t during that first tour. When I got there, I’d only flown in training. Nothing’s truly deadly, and you’re not flying for your life.” He took a sip of his drink before turning to look in your direction. He didn’t look at you, but rather he looked through you. “Everything looks the same when you’re flying over stretches of desert. Our mission was to take out a band of insurgents in a hideaway. The mission was fine. It was the trip back. We got hit by a sandstorm. It was like being trapped in a snow globe that someone shook up. When I finally got visibility, I was heading straight for a rock face and I had to eject. My parachute deployed a little later than it should have and my landing was rough. My wingman saw the crash and a helicopter was close by for a supply run. They picked me up hours later, injured from the fall and almost dehydrated.” He flicked the purple heart on his chest. “It’s how I earned that.” He shook his head. “It’s still not the worst crash I’ve seen.”

“What was that like?”

He tapped his Bronze Star. “That’s a story for a different day, Lieutenant.”

“Why do you do it?” you asked, leaning in. “If it’s so dangerous-”

“Lieutenant, if those ‘fly boys’ that you hold in such low regard didn’t fly, then you’d have ground support dealing with those missions. They’d be risking mass casualties to take the tower when a targeted air strike could minimize loss and have a better success rate. Those fly boys save lives.”

“By risking theirs.”

“It’s the job of the military to risk everything for everyone else. It’s my job.”

“You fly a giant ball of metal in the sky at death speeds in a way that almost certainly means death if you fail.” You couldn’t understand why anyone would want to do that.

His lip twitched slightly. “So maybe we’re all in it for the adrenaline. My life amounts to months of planning, but it comes down to split-second decisions.”

You shook your head, taking a sip of your drink. “I’m beginning to think you like it that way.”

He finished his drink and slapped enough money down to cover both of you. “DIdn’t get to where I am by being idle.”

“I’m not idle, Vice Admiral.”

He smirked. “Never said you were, Lieutenant. See you tomorrow. And for the record, I’ll take a habanero and jack cheese bagel.”

You watched him leave, a laugh breezing between your lips.

You finished your drink and went home. It was still fairly early, and you weren’t quite tired. To be honest, you weren’t quite sure you wanted to sleep right now, worried that you’d have another nightmare. A quick glance at the clock let you know that it was almost time for the local news, so you decided to watch the daily round up of news stories while you sank into your couch.

The local news anchor was starting in on a story about puppies being found in the playground of an elementary school when a banner flashed across the screen: Breaking News. Your brow furrowed as you watched the anchor touch the piece in his ear, eyes wide.

“We have breaking news coming in about a military plane crash in the desert.” The screen cut to footage of a plane falling out of the sky like a meteor, fire spreading across the wings as it hurtled towards the ground. The plane exploded upon impact. Your eyes scanned the sky on the screen, looking for the tell-tale sign of a parachute that the pilot had escaped the inferno. There was nothing.

“Shit.”

#beau cyclone simpson #beau cyclone simpson x reader #Hold My Hand #Ch 2

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onmyyan · 2 years

Text

I’m sick so let’s do some sweet HC’s about who I’d love to take care of me😫🤚🏼❤️

So Dick immediately freaks out, but that panic is quickly followed by the thought of “omg I can take care of her?!?” And his babying mode is activated

He’s torn between laying beside you, holding a cold rag to your head and face, cooing over how small you look like this, how good you’re being for him, or briefly leaving you to sprint to the nearest pharmacy, buying everything he can get his grubby paws on. (Thanks for that platinum card Bruce)

Ultimately his need to be near you wins over his protective urge to make sure you have every possible medication, so he orders the stuff online, gives the poor delivery boy the meanest glare if he’s even a minute late, and is soon glued to your side once more.

He hand feeds you the soup Alfred brought over, blowing over each spoonful with a comical amount of care, he has that saccharine smile on his face the whole time, of course he’s not happy your sick!! He’s just thrilled to be able to care for you, to show you exactly why he took you home in the first place! He can’t even think about the possibility of you not having him here- so he doesn’t.

Instead he hushes your pained whines, brushes the hair from your face and continues to nurse his baby back to health.

In a rare coherent moment you jokingly call him your little nurse, the next morning he’s in full costume, cute little hat and all.

Pro!Bakugou has definitely calmed down in his aging, he’s still the same quick mouthed shithead we know and love but he isn’t so reactive anymore, he thinks everything through until the best solution is available.

That is of course except when it comes to you, yeah all rational thoughts go poof.

You’ve come a long way in your relationship, he felt secure enough in it that he’d started taking longer shifts, bigger missions, something he’d forgone for the “Adjustment period” you’d went through, he knew you needed to get that oh so important bonding time in before he’d feel comfortable leaving you unsupervised.

So naturally that’s when shit hits the fan

The cameras he’d installed throughout the home you two shared have never been so useful, something had told him to check on you and when he did he stopped dead in his tracks, you were sprawled out on the kitchen floor, a broken glass of water had pooled around your form a few inches away.

He took to the sky instantly, leaving behind two confused sidekicks. His brain was running a mile a minute as he speed through the sky, he’d never moved so fast in his life.

You were in the process of getting some water when your fever got the best of ya, you were prone to feinting when you were sick so this wasn’t too alarming, what was alarming however, was your 6’3 husband bursting in the door so hard the little glass panels on it shattered.

He looked wild, his hands were still smoking by the time he swooped you in his arms, the hot huff’s he’d been breathing into your neck were the only sounds for a few seconds.

“What the shit happened huh? You okay baby? You can’t scare me like that- fucking hell.” He was nervously rambling, not giving you a chance to answer as his hands inspected every inch of you.

Being a hero was his dream, but you came before everyone and everything. Queue him spending a week off making absolutely sure you were okay, makes the best food to help you get better, being that you can’t taste shit this is the only time you’d eat his food at his spice level, something he’d enjoy if he wasn’t so busy worrying about you.

You’d spend your days in bed, being absolutely pampered, he’d only ever leave your side to cook and even then the clingy bear of a man would have you on the phone, even if you weren’t talking he needed to hear you breathing. <3

Jason (Friday the 13th) is my BABY- anyway he is the sweetest murder machine you’ve ever seen. My interpretation is based on the latest Friday, in that one he’s more of a woodsman/hunter who’s only killing to protect his territory.

All that being said he doesn’t really get sick, he knows something’s off because you’re not following him around like his shadow, he never liked you to stray too far from him as he had booby-trapped the ever living fuck out of the campgrounds.

The cabin and its immediate area were safe, but you still liked to cling to him as he made his rounds, the only time he didn’t entertain it was when there were those pesky trespassers 😠

On a typical day he’d wake a good two hours before you do, make sure your sleeping soundly, then go about his first rounds, check his traps, and more recently, he’d water the small garden you’d started. By the time he was done you’d be up and ready to start your day with him.

So when he began the daily routine of making breakfast for the two of you, he was confused at your absence, by this point you’d be helping him set the table, but you were nowhere to be found.

He’d made it a point to lighten his footsteps, knowing if he hadn’t he’d be shaking the cabin with how fast he made his way to your shared room.

The gentle-only-for-you-giant was about as tall as the doorway, so he had to duck his head a bit to get in. Once he was there he all but falls to his knees by your still form on the bed. You’d curled into a ball, sweat beading on your forehead, his large hand came down to feel the skin there, only to pull back, his deep brown eyes would hold all the worry in the world, he knew you shouldn’t be that hot.

Jason has this connection to his mother, so strong he can still hear her long after her departure from this plane of life, and she always knew what to do, especially when it came to you.

“You must keep her cool Jason, lots of water and soup!” He’d hear her say as if she was in the room with you, and like the good son he was, he’d listen to her instructions diligently. You’d awaken with the behemoth of a man petting your hands, his head resting gently in your stomach as he sat in worry.

His love language was acts of service and this was the perfect chance for just that, so be prepared to be treated like a doll well after you’re better, heaven forbid some idiot decides to trespass, because he takes it as a personal affront to you, they’re taking him and his attention away from his baby😠😠 so whoever it is gets it extra good, I’m talking pieces of them everywhere it’s so romantic <3

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere dc imagine #yandere slashers #yandere dick grayson #yandere bakugou #yandere bnha #yandere headcanons

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meadowofbluebells · 14 days

Text

Under An Array of Embers and Ashes - Short Story Snippet

Summary: A mother waits with her children for her husband to get home while Pompeii crumbles around her.

Trigger Warnings: Discussions of Death, Natural Disaster, and Discussions of Grief

Genre: Historical Fiction

Written By: meadowofbluebells

Notes: This was a scene that I wrote for my creative writing class. We had to write a historical fiction scene and I chose to write about Pompeii.

~~~

The scent of smoke smelled foreign to Albina as she burrowed her nose in her children’s hair. As she wrapped her arms around them, hoping to calm their shaking forms, she allowed her mind to wander to their births and the newborn scent that they carried. She remembered how calming the scent was. How it drew her to cradle her babies closer to her chest. If only she could soothe her children’s cries as easily as she could then. Maybe if they were as small as they once were, she would be able to shield them from the world raging around them. As it was, all she could do was offer them the shelter of their home and provide comfort as they waited for her husband to collect them.

“Mama, it’s so hot.” Her daughter’s small voice shook as she spoke. Yet, despite the proclamation, she buried her nose further into the crook of Albina’s neck. Her small fingers clung tightly to the stola her mother wore.

Albina gently rubbed her hand along the young girl’s cheek, wiping away the sweat gathering on her skin. “Your father will return soon, Tertia, then we can make our way out of the city.” The words felt heavy within her throat, each one weighed down by the hours they had already spent waiting.

“How much longer?” Her son asked, his blue eyes glinting in the flickering light of the candle sitting next to them.

Albina smiled down at him, the expression weak from the exhaustion wracking her body. “Not long.” She pulled him even closer as the roof creaked above them, her muscles tensing. “Let’s go get some water,” she said as a means of distraction.

She gently pulled her children toward the abandoned jug of water from their noontime meal. The jug had steadily grown lighter as the hours went on, the children’s throats growing dry and hoarse from a combination of heat and tears. Alarm shot through her as she saw how little liquid there was left. Yet, she refused to let her panic show. She needed to stay strong until Servius returned home. Maybe he could explain what the residents of Pompeii had done to anger the gods. For now, all she could do was ignore the ash and stone raining down outside their home. Her children needed her, and thus her terror must be corralled. She would not forfeit their lives through her fear.

Appius chugged the water, droplets dripping down his chin in his desperation. His shoulders relaxed minutely as he drank every last drop. “More, please?”

Albina glanced at the empty jug. Licking her dry lips, she shook her head. “Not now, we must save some for your father.”

“But he’s taking forever,” the boy whined, jutting his chin up in his frustration.

Just then, another boom echoed from the streets. With a shriek, the boy dropped his cup and scurried to hide behind his mother’s skirts. His whimpers were lost as the sound echoed through their meager home. Albina gently pulled her children closer, doing her best to hide the shiver running through her limbs.

She felt like a sheep stuck in a pen as it awaited slaughter, mulling around within the walls of her home as she awaited the volcano to swallow her whole. At that moment, she envied that sheep, at least it did not know what its fate would be. At least it would get a quick death. She could feel the ache of her dry throat, and phantom stomach cramps that signalled the starvation that was becoming a clearer possibility as time went on.

Her eyes fell to her children, their bodies leaning on her legs as exhaustion weighed them down. If it came down to it, who would get the last morsel of food? Her young daughter, who deserved to see more of life before her end, or the son who had a higher chance of survival? Which would Servius choose?

“Come, you both ought to sleep.”

“I’m not tired,” Tertia murmured, her voice muffled against her mother’s leg.

“Of course not,” Albina murmured as she grabbed the candle, “but you’ll need to rest, so we can leave as soon as your father returns.”

The children grumbled a bit, but followed her up the stairs. They flinched whenever the roof above them creaked, the weight of the ash falling upon it making it cry out in agony. Yet, Albina studiously ignored it, using the candlelight to guide her steps.

Slowly, she eased her children into the bed, gently stroking her fingers through their hair as their eyes drooped closed. She could not tell the hour within the dark house, but the weight of her limbs spoke of a deep-seated need for sleep. Yet, she could not rest, her body refusing to slumber while her children were in danger.

Despite being happy that they were getting the sleep she could not force herself to partake in, it was odd to see them sleep with danger being only meters away. She ought to thank the gods for the resilience of the young, but a fury she refused to name wouldn’t allow the sentiment to form. She trailed her fingers through Appius’ auburn hair. How could the gods deny him the chance to grow up? To build a home of his own or a wife to marry? Did children not deserve the mercy of the gods?

She sat up, her fingers curling in the blankets beneath her. And what of Servius? Did he not deserve to cradle his children close as they faded from this world? Her heart ached, some anguish deep in her chest unfurling. Tears dripped down her cheeks, glinting in the fading candlelight.

“He isn’t coming back, is he?” The words burned as they left her lips, a quiet whisper despite the rumbling from outside. She glanced toward her children, taking note of the sweat shining on their skin and the heaviness of their breath due to the ash in what little air filtered into the house.

She stood up, her hands shaking violently before them. “What am I doing?” The question came out shrill with panic. She glanced up at the roof, listening to ash fall. Then, she glanced toward her children, her hand rubbing down her face. A laugh spilled from her lips, sounding off to her ears. “Is this my choice? To sacrifice them both? To wait for wood and stone to crush them?” She leaned over the bed, her fingers trailing across their warm skin.

Her mind was racing, and she grabbed the candle with haste. She quickly looked over her children once more, an instinct to ensure their safety gripping her as she watched their chests rise and fall.

She leaned over to kiss Tertia’s brow. “I’ll be right back.”

Every protective instinct rallied against her as she quietly slipped from the room. Yet, she ignored them, knowing that she would need to check that it was safe for them to leave at all. If she was going to have to race through the streets of Pompeii with her young offspring, she would need to know how much ash Vesuvius had spewed out in its anger.

Her hand fell upon the door and for a moment she didn’t move. A part of her did not want to see the devastation wrought on the only city she had ever known. Would the streets be cracked from the rumbles of the volcano? Would she see neighbours she knew well dead in the street? Maybe it would be better to go back upstairs and curl around her children. Perhaps a slumbering death would be a greater mercy.

Her hand curled. No, she couldn’t give up. She had held those babies in her arms as infants and promised to protect them. She would not fail them now.

With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and pushed against the door. Yet, nothing happened. She pushed again, using her shoulder to add more weight. The door refused to move. It stood looming before her like the bars of a prison cell. Tears pricked at her eyes.

“No,” she whispered, her heart beating wildly in her chest. Her breath became heavy as she tried desperately to wrangle the terror cascading through her mind. Her hands banged against the door as tears streamed down her face. The door refused to budge, not even creaking as her knuckles slammed against it.

“Servius,” she screamed, the sound echoing throughout the house - a cacophony of all the fears she had been holding in. The scent of smoke wrapped around her form. “Please, there are children here.” Her hands started to bleed, the sting hardly registering. “My babies, please save my babies.” Finally, exhaustion overwhelmed her. Her knees slammed against the tile. Her forehead fell against the wood, teardrops falling to the ground below. Slowly, her hands slipped away, the blood-soaked digits falling to the light fabric of her stola. “My babies,” she sobbed.

Written By: meadowofbluebells

#writing #creative writing #writblr #female writers #origonal work #original writing #writeblr #historical fiction

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sherifftillman · 2 years

Text

Getting Amped

Pairing: implied potential Eddie Munson x Reader

Word Count: 908

Summary: It's a big day for Eddie - the day he plans on finally asking you out. It's still a little nerve-wracking, though, so he psyches himself up in the one way he would never let anyone know he does.

A/N: Hello again! This is mostly just my own answer to the debate on whether Eddie-related playlists should have genres that aren't metal in them. As someone who used to frequent an alternative bar pretty regularly, the same people who would be throwing each other around to System of a Down would belt out Taylor Swift within minutes, once you got them inebriated enough. And so, this fun little drabble was born.

It's not a typical 'x reader' in that this is just a scene that only features Eddie. But I've enjoyed writing it.

The alarm pierces through one of Eddie's ears, straight out of the other. Burying his head under the pillow does nothing. In sheer defiance of doing absolutely anything that requires lifting his head up, he blindly reaches down the side of his bed until he feels one of his boots, picks it up, and flings it behind him until the beeping sounds come to a halt.

Usually, Eddie would stay here in his nest of comfort until the energy finally came to him. But today, he has a mission. One worthy of pushing himself out of bed and trudging along to the bathroom. Eddie would honestly rather die than dare to wash his hair before school starts, but today is a day that is worth the effort. Pondering what kind of shower he's about to have, it's answered for him once he steps in and realises that there is no more running hot water in the trailer. It's fine, he tells himself. This is invigorating. It'll wake me up.

Once he's out of the shower, he takes his hair in both his hands, wrings it out and wraps it up into some kind of updo, to keep it from dripping as he dries the rest of himself off. Slinging the towel around to hang low across his hips, he heads back into his bedroom, flicks open the metal tin on his dresser, and rolls himself a joint. Usually, he wouldn't take from his own supply unless it were for the benefit of his clients, but he needs the extra boost to keep his cool today.

He lays back on his bed, one hand behind his head, the other holding the joint, swinging it slowly from side to side, his eyes transfixed on the glowing bud as a trail of smoke traces his movements. He pictures everything perfectly: he'll approach her right before homeroom, and ask her to sit with him for lunch. The two have been friendly enough in passing that he's sure he's picked up the vibe that she'd be happy to join him. He'll take her to his usual meeting spot, but not for business this time. He'll pull up the picnic basket he's already left at the park bench - reminder to self, Munson, drop that off first, you're slipping up already. As they're eating, he'll tell her how much he's enjoying her company. And if she reciprocates, he'll seal the deal by asking her out. Easy, right?

As the last of the joint crumbles from orange embers to ash, Eddie lets out a heavy breath. He's got to stay psyched for this. No doubting, even for a second. That's when it hits him.

Doing one final patrol of the trailer to make sure Wayne was definitely out at work, and not just crashed out in a corner somewhere, Eddie holds onto his towel for dear life as he bends down to reach under his bed, and one-handedly pulls out a box with the words "filthy porn" "the heavy stuff" "weird shit" written all over. Smirking at his sheer deception levels, Eddie opens the box and starts rifling through the contents - his 'guilty pleasures' single collection.

He thumbs through a few before first settling on We Got The Beat by the Go-Gos. Certainly not his usual soundtrack, but perhaps it'll make outfit-choosing seem less stressful and more like one of those shopping montages in those cheesed-up movies. He's not 100% on the lyrics, but watching his reflection dance along to the beat as he holds items of clothing up against himself still gives him the same amount of serotonin as blasting out one of his favourites. He decides to smarten up a Hellfire shirt with a red-and-black flannel, a leather jacket without the vest on top, and keeping the chains on his jeans but opting to remove the handcuffs.

He prepares his own breakfast - and lunch for later - in relative silence, still bopping his head to the song that has managed to lodge into his head for a while, but it soon fades and again, so does his confidence that he's ready to do this. He decides it's time to pull out the big guns.

This time, returning to The Box, he searches very deliberately for one single in particular. He places Wham's I'm Your Man on the record player, slides the needle over, and grabs a bottle of deodorant, flipping it round and throwing it up in the air, catching it right before the first lyric starts to play. Making eye contact with his reflection, Eddie starts mouthing along, dancing along to the words, miming every action, emotion, anything that's described in the lyrics.

He jumps and spins and runs around the entire trailer, dancing between "rooms", on the couch, on his bed, ricocheting himself off of counters. At the longest-held note in the song, Eddie feels for the tie keeping his hair together, pulls it away, and shakes his thick, dark mane back out.

He finishes packing up the food he plans to take with him as the song fades out, and is about to leave when he realises something horrific. Quickly diving back to his room, he hastily shoves the single back into its sleeve and kicks the box back to the depths of the void beneath his bed.

For now, Eddie the cheesy movie protagonist is put to sleep, and Eddie The Freak is ready to seize the day as his own.

#eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fluff #*myfics

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xximpressions · 2 years

Text

First Name Basis (2)

Kelly Severide x black!reader

Series Summary: Snapshots of your budding relationship with Lieutenant Kelly Severide where, after discarding woman after woman for years, he finally has to prove he really cares about this one.

Chapter Summary: You have a hectic second day with Firehouse 51

Word Count: 1324

Warnings: Mentions of violence

A/N: Thanks to everyone who left a like, comment, or reblog. You're the reason I keep going.

Previous | Next

____________________________________________________________

Next shift came around faster than you expected.

Between running errands and taking care of yourself, your forty-eight hours off flew by. But that didn’t mean you weren’t prepared for your second official shift at Firehouse 51. At the two incidents you had been called to so far, you had been at your A-game.

Driving to and from the scenes, you doled out medical instructions necessary to keep your patients alive till they got to Med. Once you handed off your latest patient, you and Sylvie made your way back to the house.

Hopping out of the ambulance, you let out a sigh as you finished closing the door to the vehicle.

Kelly, whose eyes had been on you since you returned, and not on the card game in front of him, noticed your deep exhale and called your name to get your attention. When you looked over, he asked,

“You alright?” With a small touch of concern.

Your face blossomed into a small smile as you nonchalantly shrugged and replied,

“Nothing I can’t handle.” Before making your way further into the firehouse.

You didn’t notice Kelly’s eyes following you, nor did you hear when he put his cards down, declaring he was out, before following after you.

But as Capp and Cruz noticed, they couldn’t help sharing some secret smirks.

Kelly found you in the kitchen pouring yourself a cup of coffee and approached you under the pretense of wanting one too.

As the hot liquid filled his cup, Kelly took a glance at you from the corner of his eyes. He looked back down at his mug before he began to speak.

“So…not that your first answer wasn’t convincing, but I do feel the need to ask again.”

You let out a small chuckle, amused and touched at his concern, before you repeated yourself.

“Thanks Kelly, but like I said, it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Not quite the answer he was hoping for, Kelly put his mug down on the counter before fully turning towards you. He leaned in and lowered his voice as he said,

“I’m sure you could, I just want to make sure you know that you don’t have to handle it alone.”

Allowing a moment for his words to sink in, he could see they had when you looked up to him with nothing but appreciation shining in your eyes. Feeling like he made his point, the firehouse Lieutenant leaned back before attempting to make the conversation a bit more lighthearted.

“So I’m ‘Kelly’ at work now too? I’m starting to feel special,” he said in a teasing tone. The small smile on his face only grew when a genuine laugh left your mouth.

Just as you were getting ready to reply, the alarm was heard by all of you.

“Truck 81, Squad 3, Battalion 25, Ambulance 61, Car Accident at…”

As the alarm listed off the address, you, Kelly, and everyone else in the vicinity quickly made their way to their respective vehicles.

Upon arriving at the scene, you could see that several cars had been involved in the accident. Hopping out of the ambulance, you and Sylvie each grabbed your jump bags before making your way over to Chief Boden who was getting ready to give some orders.

“Truck, some of those hoods are smoking, so let’s make sure none of these cars ignite. Squad, get started with extracting pinned in victims. 61, start with the more seriously injured. Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!”

Severide turned towards his guys to start making a plan and you and Sylvie split up to assess the victims.

You and a couple of members from Truck 81 made your way towards the car that looked the most damaged. It had smashed into a lamp post head on and the windshield was completely shattered.

After some work, you managed to climb into the passenger side to look at the driver. Though he had a nasty looking head wound, what you immediately noticed was the smell of alcohol that permeated from his mouth and body.

Doing your best to ignore that for a moment, you secured a C-collar around his neck before checking for any other injuries. Not seeing any, you gave the firefighters waiting to extract him the all-clear to do so. As they pulled him out on a backboard, you climbed out of the car to help carry him to the ambulance.

Remembering the driver’s inebriated state, you grabbed your radio before speaking into it.

“Hey Chief, I think we’re gonna need CPD here. This guy is wasted.”

There was a brief pause before you heard his gruff voice say,

“Copy.”

As you went to wheel your intoxicated patient to the ambulance with help from Truck 81, you felt someone try to grab and shove you from behind. Turning around, you saw it was another victim of the accident with a few cuts on his face. But this one was much larger than your current victim and a lot more agitated.

“This guy’s drunk?!?” He exclaimed.

“Sir, please calm down and step away from the stretcher.”

“Are you kidding me?? He could’ve killed someone!”

At this point, most people had stopped to watch this particular interaction, but Kelly and Casey had been making their way toward you as soon as you radioed in. Luckily, they were there just in time to catch the guy as he lunged at you to get to your patient.

In the ensuing struggle, the man had somehow been able to turn around in the arms of the two firefighters. Getting one arm free, he cocked his arm back in an attempt to punch somebody.

But because you were standing right behind him, you caught a swift elbow to the face.

Caught by the surprise of the blow and the pain it brought, you staggered back clutching your nose.

You heard several exclamations of your name, but Kelly’s was the loudest.

You were able to open your eyes enough to see Kelly throw the man who had hit you into the arms of two uniformed officers who had seen the whole thing. He then turned back towards you with a look of immense worry before guiding you to sit on the tail end of the ambulance.

Sylvie had made her way over to assess you and your new injury. With an official prognosis of a bloody nose, your fellow paramedic suggested you be taken to Med to rule out any concussions. You were in the middle of disagreeing when you stood up a tad too fast and began to wobble. Kelly was quick to steady you as you began to say,

“On second thought…” as you sat back down.

Chief Boden, who had been concerned after seeing you take that blow, finished your thought by declaring an authoritative,

“You’re going.”

Before going back to take charge of the scene.

With that settled, you climbed into the back of the ambulance with your patient and waited for Sylvie to climb into the front. As you waited, you caught eyes with Kelly who was standing outside the vehicle holding the door open.

Raising your brows in a silent question, you watched Kelly turn back towards the scene in order to determine how much longer he needed to stay here. Realizing it would be quite a while before he would be allowed to sneak away, he turned back to you before saying,

“I’ll come see you as soon as I can.” He finished his statement with a quick wink and smile before closing the back door of the ambulance and hitting it twice to let Sylvie know she was good to pull off.

As you began to move, you smiled to yourself in spite of the pain radiating from your face.

“Only Kelly Severide would flirt with me while I’m covered in blood”

Was the thought going around in your head as you made your way to Med.

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#kelly severide x reader #kelly severide fanfiction #kelly severide imagine #kelly severide fanfic #kelly severide #one chicago #chicago fire #chicago fire imagine #kelly severide x black!reader

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orphicidiot09 · 2 years

Text

Delicate heart ☘︎

dabi x deaf! mute! Reader

! Triggering content !

Pt1

Smoke, dust and his father's harsh words were the only thing in the fifteen year old's mind, his vision all blurry and body burning at a painful rate. He wanted to disappear, away from the whole world's eyes, away from this harsh reality. He wanted to cry that he is not able to live up to his father's expectations. He felt so wea-

As if a cold breeze passed by, the flames surrounding him suddenly dulled down till they vanished. Smoke clearing, his lungs could finally feel the oxygen. The burning sensation vanished and was replaced by something so warm and welcoming. Definitely not his father, then who came in these training grounds far away from the whole city. He was too tired to look for answers or to even defend himself if this was a threat. He passed out.

*Poke**Poke*

His deep slumber was disturbed gently by a small finger poking him out of slumber. Before it could reach him again he grabbed it which startled the owner.

Slowly opening his eyes, his vision clearing a bit he saw a girl probably younger than him crouching down before him. First he thought he was hallucinating. No one comes in these grounds that's why his father chose them in the first place. What was this docile creature doing here?

Finally coming to his senses when he realised that she was actually there he slowly sat up. First thing he noticed was that he was not hurting, no pain then he noticed that his flames were gone almost as if they never existed in the first place.

Looking around his surroundings he could find no one except this girl.

Did she do this?

He let his eyes roam around her form, her knees were badly bruised and scratched, her hands were full of small scratches too, blood seeping out of them, there was blood coming out from the corner of her ears, she was sitting holding a diary sort of thing and a marker in her hand.

Maintaining his distance from her he stood up and the girl followed his action. Finally connecting his turquoise eyes with her, he gathered some words in his mouth and let them out.

"Who are you?", His voice coming out rough.

Her eyes immediately travelled down to his lips which made him narrow his eyes on her. A small smile crawled up her face and she eagerly pulled out her writing pad and scribbled something on it and shoved it towards him which he carefully took from her.

'My name is (Name), I can't hear or talk'

"Huh that's a good introduction (Name)", her name rolled out of his tongue smoothly, he liked the feeling of it.

Taking the marker from her hand he wote down his question.

'What are you doing here?',

He wrote.

This is fun.

A bright smile crawled up her face and he couldn't understand why she got so excited over a simple question. Snatching the pad from him she wrote down that she was running away from someone and ended up here.

This alarmed him. Was there a villain around? Who was she running away from? Is this a trap? Is she with the villains?

Numerous questions raced in his head, a frown crawling up his face. He didn't realise when his hands started igniting with blue flames that was untill he earned a yelp from her.

He noticed how his quirk which was supposed to burn and envelope his surroundings according to his desire was instead crawling up his own body. He couldn't control his powers. His father hated him for that, called him weak.

Emotions got better of him and the flames roared loudly, he couldn't breathe properly, but then something happened, a wind blowed by gently engulfing his flames and swallowing them away, the flames disappeared and this time he saw who has did that.

The girl was standing closely, her one hand clutching the diary and the other pointing towards him, she moved the wind as she pleased and let it swallow away his flames.

A spark ignited in his heart. It was as if someone had gently poured the misty cold water over his hot burning skin, his fear died down.

She rushed towards him in a hurry, her face scrunched up in worry. Bringing her hands towards his burning skin he released the same kind of misty cold breeze that immediately healed his wounds.

This time he didn't feel hot, he felt warm, a type of warmth he had never felt. It felt so good.

He must have been staring at her shiny doe eyes and small form. He saw her smiling proudly looking at his now healed wounds . Such warmth in her eyes.

She waved infront of his eyes to snap him out of his trance.

Scribbling something again she showed him her words and bowed her down as if asking him for something.

'I am lost, will you please show me the way out'

Not saying anything he just started walking away.

Seeing him walk away a frown starting forming on her face, her eyes watered, she thought he was leaving her here in middle of nowhere that was till a hand nudged her side.

"Follow me", he said but seeing her not moving a inch he huffed in annoyance realising that she couldn't hear. Pointing towards him he instructed her to follow her and the way her eyes shined in agreement he understood that she understood him.

She was slowly walking beside him, he was just curiously looking at her from the corner of his eyes.

This girl.

Reaching towards the end, a small frown found it's way up his way up his face when he realised that he'll have to departure from her warmth. He stopped making her bump into him.

Taking the diary from her, he wrote that this is the end from here she'll have to go alone. Accepting this from him, she bowed down startling him.

"It's okay (Name) jeez"

Not finding courage in watching her go he turned around ready to walk away but was stopped by a small tug at his sleeve.

When he turned around he was met by a that diary up his face, pulling back he read the words.

'Please write your name!'

A lazy smirk found its way up his face, with one hand in his pocket and other lowering the diary down. His unforgettable and striking turquoise eyes glowing brightly, finding their way up her mind, permanently writing themselves in her memory. He leaned downed towards her face till he could feel the soft breath leaving her parted mouth.

"Name's Touya, Touya Todoroki doll, but you don't wanna remember it okay? Okay." , He said knowing well that she couldn't hear him.

All she could manage to hear was a small 'ya'.

"Ya?"

With that he left for now, for today. His turquoise eyes found a way in her delicate heart.

#dabi #dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #dabi headcanons #dabi imagine #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha #bnha dabi #touya x you #touya todoroki #touya x reader #dabi fluff #dabi angst

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