#she’s literally been living away from home the entire time since i moved back and has the gall to come back for like three days | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ivymarquis · 16 days

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Happiness is a Butterfly

It's been literal months since I read @ceilidho's divorce AU and guess what it is still rattling around in my brain because it is just scrumptious.

This is what I vanished to work on lol

Pairing| John Price x F!Reader Rating| E Word Count| 10.6k Kinks/Content/Warnings| 3rd person reader, Post Divorce John Price x Wife!Reader, Attempting to co parent, John is obnoxiously agreeable until he no longer wants to be, there is the s l i g h t e s t mention where reader is worried John might snap but he doesn't scout's honor, squirting, unprotected PiV, blow job, face sitting, unplanned pregnancy, childbirth, reproductive coercion if you squint, baby trapping if you squint, it is a lil dubby because John doesn't do anything behind Reader's back but he steamrolls the fuck out of her into getting what he wants lmao

The words choke in her throat like they don’t want to leave.

Maybe that’s a higher power giving her just one last out to change her mind- to not say the four words that will upend the lives of everyone in the household.

She can barely bring herself to look at him.

In the decade they’ve been married his temper has never been something she’s been afraid of, but in that moment it is all she can think about; every headline she’s ever read of a soldier snapping and killing his wife and children floating in her mind like a neon sign flashing danger.

She’s never feared his temper but she’s also never croaked out the words I want a divorce to him before either.

Her arms cross over her body as her gaze settles a bit off to the side of him. Everything about her body language is closed off and cagey as he looks up from his desk- no doubt having been mentally preparing for another round of come to bed, love - in a minute darling, almost done only to be caught off guard by the actual request.

He doesn’t answer her as he sits back in his chair, looking at her.

She chooses now to choke out the words because she really doesn’t think she has it in her to say the words with him standing. He’s sitting- still imposing as ever even if he’s always been magnanimous around the house- and she’s on the other side of the room avoiding eye contact.

He stands, still silent as the grave, before walking towards her in slow, measured steps and coming to a halt right in front of her. The ground has become absolutely fascinating as she refuses to meet his gaze.

As his hand raises she imperceptibly starts to shift, but absolutely nothing escapes John’s notice. “Don’t,” he starts before clearing his throat, his tone softer as he speaks again, “Don’t do that. You know me better than that.”

This time she doesn’t move as he goes to cup her face- takes her chin in hand and forces her head up. “Look me in the eye and say it again.”

It takes a moment for her to scrape together her nerves, eyes picking up off the floor to meet his. She’s not sure entirely what she expected but she thinks she assumed there’d be more of a reaction. He’s watching her- thinking- as she stumbles over the words.

Doubt twists in her gut as once again she squeaks out “I want a divorce.”

“Is there someone else?” he asks evenly.

“No! John I’d never-” It’s true; ever since he’d turned her head all those years ago she’s been blind where other men are concerned.

“Okay,” he soothes with his thumb against her cheek and she’s suddenly aware that this is probably not how this conversation should be going. “I believe you. Are you sure this is what you want?”

She’s been agonizing over this for months. She’s not even sure what gauntlet was thrown down to make her say enough is enough and have today be the day. Nothing spectacular has happened.

Maybe that’s reason enough. His job is always just the higher priority. While he always ensures his family is cared for while away, he drops everything for work in a way that simply isn’t reciprocated at home. Even when he’s physically here he spends so much time locked in this damn office he might as well be back at base.

Nothing has changed after begging and pleading and she is tired with a bone weary ache.

Are you sure this is what you want? Echos in her head while he awaits an answer.

“Yes.” No. “I’m so tired of being alone,” she confesses. “I’m tired of constantly having to beg you to be here even when you’re home. If I am going to be by myself raising the boys then I just need to be by myself.”

He doesn’t seem surprised by the words in the slightest. Probably because they’ve been having the same argument for years. This is not the first time she’s been frustrated with his job.

“Okay,” she can’t believe her ears with his easy acceptance. “If this is what you want, then okay.”

She sobs- alone- in their bed like the entire situation isn’t her fault, burying her face in the bedding to stifle herself from the kids. John’s gone.

Everything goes about as smoothly as it can. John doesn’t fight her on anything. With his schedule there’s no point in ironing out a visitation schedule through the courts. They agree to just work it out when they can, given how he can be called away at a moment’s notice.

They’re adults. They can handle this.

Once her nerves settle from the initial shock of actually saying the words to him, and she’s had a few days to think on his reaction, she decides she’s pissed.

The easy acceptance ruffles her feathers in a way she can’t put to words. She gave him a decade of her life, a home, three children- has kept everything running seamlessly while he jumped in and out of their lives to answer the call of duty and he didn’t even try to fight for her.

If he was being sullen or grouchy with her it would be easier to process everything- all the things set into motion that she started.

Perhaps she’s projecting. But he just acts like nothing is amiss as he comes by to pick up the boys or drop them off or just stop by to spend time with them.

She wakes up on the 15th and right on time she is awoken by a ding from her phone.

Perhaps, she thinks, it is a lapse in judgment to kick him out for not being around, given that she’s now cut into what already little time he has to spend with them. Isn’t that the focus of her argument? That it’s too difficult for the boys?

Their boys- three of them, each one a head taller than the last- are understandably devastated and struggling to deal with very big, very complex feelings that result in major meltdowns and fights. They blame her and they’re not wrong.

Then one day, when old habits die hard and she confides in John tearfully one day as he’s returned from his latest deployment to see them, while she can’t say it stops all together she can say there’s a marked improvement when they come back.

What did he tell them?

Her phone dings on the 1st like it always does every other week and her agitation is palpable.

She doesn’t even need to look at the notification.

John isn’t missing a beat this entire time and he’s driving her crazy.

The notification is from the bank, of an entirely too large deposit to an account that only she has access to. John’s name is not on it and he can’t touch anything in it.

He can however put money in it.

He is as steadfast and agreeable as always while stubborn enough to just bulldoze into getting his way.

She knows she should be grateful. That so many ex husbands abandon their children and former wives in favor of some shiny new girlfriend. That it would be so easy for him to throw her “if I'm going to be by myself then I'm going to be by myself” back in her face.

Her career had been put on hold with the boys. When everyone was older and in school and didn’t need her so much the plan had been to go back. And then John had kept putting babies in her and the timeline got pushed further back with the subsequent births of their two youngest children.

It would have been so easy for him to tell her to just figure it out herself, that this is what she wants and she can navigate life on her own just fine.

Instead he deposits entirely too much money into an account he can’t access.

She’s not sure why today is different, but she hits her limit and calls him. They’ve never actually spoken about his little transactions.

“You alright, then, love?” She remembers deciding to pick her battles and not harp that she’s not his love anymore.

“What are you doing?”

There’s a brief pause.

“…I’m on base? About to take my lunch, actually. Maybe you can -“ she cuts him off before he can get any further.

“I’m not calling to ask about your day and you know it,” she snaps irritably. “I’m asking about the deposit. What are you doing?”

John, once upon a time, used to tease about his spoiled, hot headed wife. She knows she is being the epitome of spoiled and ungrateful but come on- no one is this agreeable about a divorce. She doesn’t trust it.

“I have no idea what you mean, love.” He assures her good naturedly.

“You have no idea how several thousands have been deposited into my account?”

She wants to reach through the phone to strangle him when she hears that even tempered laugh of his.

“I know how the money got deposited, love- I did it myself. I don’t know why you’re questioning my motives. We both know you haven’t worked outside the home in years- you need money to keep everything going.”

“John, it's too much. I know you know how much I spend in a month!”

He sighs. She can picture him sitting at his desk on base. Sprawled out in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t want you making decisions out of desperation.” He responds evenly. “The plan wasn’t for you to go to work until the youngest one’s in school next year. You’ve been out of the market for years, I can only imagine an employer trying to use that to short change you.”

He lets out a sigh, and she feels something akin to guilt for freaking out on him.

John’s always been the one to make the best out of a shit situation. To try to steady the boat in the storm. Even when his own wife (ex wife) is the one making waves.

“I don’t want you making decisions out of desperation,” he repeats. “I just want you to be able to raise the boys comfortably without worrying about making ends meet.”

The something coils tighter in her gut.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes.

“You’re alright, sweetheart,” he assures her and once again she has to bite back a not your sweetheart anymore.

“Now,” there’s the slightest shift to his tone and feels herself falling back into old habits again. As keyed in to him as a dog awaiting her master’s command. “What I was going to say earlier- I’m about to take my lunch. I would appreciate it if you could bring me the boys. I’d like to see them today.”

She can’t very well tell him no now can she?

The boys are her heart and soul but she sees them for exactly who they are- three rambunctious little spitfires always up to something. Good boys, but curious and mischievous. The curse of having smart children.

Until they’re on base at least. All three are quiet as church mice, gathered behind their mother and peering at the soldiers from behind her skirt.

She can’t truly correct the guards at the gate when they greet her as Mrs. Price- she hasn’t changed her name and isn’t sure if she’s going to.

It’s not hers anymore, but it’s still her boys’ name and things are easier. She’d likely have to retrain herself to respond to her maiden name.

The boys are hot on her heels until they stumble across John- as soon as he sees them, dropping a knee with open arms the trio are off like a shot as peals of “Daddy!!” fill the air.

“You can just call me after you’ve finished lunch and I can come get them,” she states amicably, watching John as he wrangles the three of them. The sooner she can get out of here, the better off she’ll be (because God help her, watching him with their oldest two was how she ended up pregnant with the third, and watching him with them now just makes her yearn for something she no longer has any claim to).

Immediately the three boys are protesting, albeit not quite as vocally as they normally would.

“Mummy, no!” “Mum!” “But it’ll be fun!” the trio state their cases to varying degrees.

John shushes the three of them gently to keep them from winding up too much before turning to her. “Come on now, sweetheart, for old time’s sake, hm?”

Their little three stooges voice their approval of that idea, chiming in with various degrees of “Yeah!”

Ultimately it’s the desire to keep her children complacent that has her agreeing. She doesn’t want a scene.

Unfortunately, a (albeit mild) scene is what she ends up having anyway.

She knows (is hopeful, at least) that her oldest doesn’t mean anything by it while they’re waiting for their food and asks “So what time are we going to nana’s later?”

Her eyes snap to him about the same moment as John’s snaps to her, and she’s deliberately trying to avoid his gaze.

Why, oh why, could he not have asked either before or after lunch?

“We’ll probably get ready after we go back home.” she’s careful to keep her tone neutral.

“How fun,” Ah shit, she can hear the suspicion in John’s voice. “Any reason in particular, or just a fun weekend?”

“Just for the night. Mum’s picking us up tomorrow. Right Mum?”

The server chooses that moment to bring their food, which gives her a moment to figure out how the fuck she’s gonna weasle out of this conversation.

“Yes, I’ll come get you after breakfast.”

“Could have called me.”

“That didn’t seem appropriate. They’ll be fine with my mum.” Her gaze drops to her plate, knowing full well if she looks up that his eyes will lock on hers.

“Don’t see what’s inappropriate about me watching my own kids.”

It’s not that she’s happy to squabble with John where the kids have a front row seat, but there is a dark part of her that delights in watching him. He has been obnoxiously agreeable this entire time and the cracks are showing. It makes her feel like she’s dealing with another human being, because she knows she’s got her moments where she loses her mind during all of this and it’s beyond frustrating that he is so dauntless no matter the circumstances in every situation.

“It’s not-” Jesus, does she tell him? What does that conversation look like? “I have plans tonight.”

John is not a stupid man and she can see the moment he realizes she’s not planning a girl’s night out for herself.

That she hadn’t thought it appropriate to ask him to take the kids so she can go on a date with another man.

“I’m watching them,” he asserts before returning to his plate.

“John-”

“I said I’m watching them,” his tone is softer, but leaves no room for argument. Conversation over.

There’s nothing wrong with her date. He is well mannered and polite, attentive when she speaks. No obvious red flags- he doesn’t dismiss her stories, doesn’t shirk back at the mention of her three children, isn’t rude to the server and isn’t texting on his phone opposed to actually engaging with her.

There is nothing wrong with him and for an idle moment she pictures what her could have been like had she married a man like him instead of John. The 9-5, the set routine, the security and reliability of knowing that he is coming home at his regular time and he’ll be there for the boys various sports and activities.

And yet all she can think of is John, who is sitting in their home, watching their children. Of the late night returns from deployment where they’d have their stolen alone time- quiet as church mice so as not to wake the boys who most assuredly would not be going back to sleep if they knew their father was home.

Of the delighted squeals of their children when they come into the room to wake her for breakfast only to find him in bed like nothing was amiss.

(And yes there was always the heartbreak that followed him walking out the door, the anxiety between phone calls that would brew until she once again could assess that he is alive and not dying blown to bits on the other side of the world)

There is nothing wrong with her date but he is not John, and that is an obstacle he will never be able to overcome.

She is safely deposited on her doorstep with polite pleasantries. She thinks he knows, has a kind smile and understanding eyes as she carefully tells him I’m sorry, I thought I was ready but I don’t think I am.

Someone will recognize him as a catch but John never let go of the hold on her heart. Someone will want this man but all she wants is John.

It’s not as late as she thought it would be when she comes home- a fact that John immediately comments on when her eyes land on him while searching for him.

“Well that didn’t last long.” The air feels different from before she left home, and she stands stock still as he rises off the couch and strides towards her.

“I,” she starts and stops, choking on the words. Why the hell did she ever agree to letting him babysit again?

Yes he’s the father of her children and yes she wants him to spend time with them whenever possible but this is just so incredibly awkward for her.

“I don’t think I’ll be seeing him again,” she finishes lamely.

“I would imagine not, if the date ended that quickly. We were always out for hours, weren’t we sweetheart?”

She can’t quite get a read on him but the entire tone of the conversation is… odd. Hell, the entire conversation is odd.

John is not one of her girlfriends for her to cheekily report back how her date went. He’s her ex husband for God’s sake.

“We were,” she agrees amicably- mind spinning with memories of the various times they had stumbled into bed early in the morning, or crawled into the backseat of John’s car like horny teenagers or-

One moment her thoughts are full of the various times John had folded her up like a piece of paper, and the next she’s aware that he’s closed the distance between them while she’s distracted.

“Makes me wonder if that was your plan all along,” he ponders out loud. She squeaks in protest, rooted to the ground and not even attempting to put more space between them.

“Was it? Having me home with the kids while you were out with another man?” His tone holds far more warmth than one would expect of a man all but accusing his (ex) wife of being a hotwife.

John’s hands grip at either side of her hips, thumbs rubbing in affectionate circles. She doesn’t quite know what to do with her own- she can feel the shift in the room. She hasn’t been with anyone since the last time they slept together, and there’s only so much fucking herself can due to take the edge off.

She can’t mimic the weight of a man’s body on top of hers- of his voice rumbling in her ears, the body heat radiating off of him as he coaxes one orgasm after another out of her.

She doesn’t want just a man though, in the broad scope of the term. It’s John.

He stops stroking at her before making a few deliberate swipes. It dawns on her that he’s feeling at the seam of her lingerie set underneath her dress.

“What’s this?” He asks, hands roaming and squeezing at her sides- possibly seeing if he can gauge which set is hidden away by feeling how the fabric wraps around her.

It’s a new one. While she hadn’t been sure about sleeping with her date, the thought of wearing lingerie that at one point had been meant for John felt wrong.

There’s a part of her willing to admit that at the rate things are going, he’s likely going to be christening this one also by the end of the night.

“Were you planning on showing this to him?” John’s enjoying torturing her- dangling the man she wasn’t ever all that interested in just to bait her.

“No, I-,” she hadn’t really thought about it. There was no plan. She was going on a date, so she put on lingerie like she always has.

Like she always did- for him. John would make a game of figuring out which set she had on.

“I just want you,” the truth bubbles out of her throat unbidden.

John descends on her like a man starved- fingers digging into her hips with a grip that she knows is going to leave bruises later.

“Bed,” she mumbles between kisses. Given how John immediately starts herding her backwards towards the bedroom, he’s clearly on board with this plan.

Once the door is shut, the pair cross the room before collapsing against the bed.

Clothes are shed in a hurry, pried off with little regard as they’re shucked to the floor.

“This one looks lovely on you,” John murmurs in praise against her skin as he gropes at the lace adorning her body, dropping to his knees on the side of the bed.

God has she missed this- missed him. The feeling is clearly mutual from the way he busies himself between her legs, lips peppering kisses across her inner thighs quickly while he makes his way towards the spot she wants him most, the gusset of her thong pulled aside.

Just as his breath is fanning over the core of her he pulls back slightly. Her thigh twitches in frustration, so close to finally having the nirvana of his tongue lapping at her only for him to have to be a tease.

“Has anyone else gotten a taste of this sweet cunt?” He asks, eyes on her with an intensity that has her squirming.

“No! There hasn’t been- John, I swear I haven’t-“ she protests.

“I believe you,” he assures her.

She probably should ask if the same could be said for him- for her own sake if nothing else. But she’s already made a slew of questionable decisions that haven’t gone the way she wants, and she errs on the side of not asking questions she doesn’t want an answer to.

Her eyes roll immediately once his mouth is on her. His hands grip at the underside of her thigh, holding them apart to give him unfettered access.

“John,” somehow she can’t quite wrap her mind around the fact that he’s got her back in their bed. Everything is novel and familiar at the same time, and she is overwhelmed by how easy it is to fall back into old habits.

He pulls away just long enough to speak, “I missed you so much,” before going back to eating her out.

John is a man on a mission, and he is familiar enough with her body to know exactly how to get her where he wants her. He also knows all of her tells- God damn him. No sooner has he dragged her to the precipice of her orgasm does he sit back, content to let her dangle but stopping just shy of letting her finally topple over.

“Wh-why?” She whimpers, lust, anticipation and disappointment curling in her gut.

He’s so gentle with her when he takes her left hand in his own, thumb running over her knuckles in soothing movements.

“Where’s your ring, sweetheart?” his question is a non sequitur if she’s ever heard one, head spinning trying to catch up through the haze of pleasure she’d been drowning in just a moment ago.

“My ring?” She mimics more on reflex than anything else, mind still reeling to catch up.

“Yes, sweetheart, your ring.” He repeats, eyeline following hers as her gaze shifts to the jewelry box sitting on the vanity.

There’s no written standard on how long to keep your ring before getting rid of it, and she hadn’t been sure about it. Figured she could always get rid of it later- when it’s never a question of if she’s making the right decision. Even with the ink dried on the paperwork finalizing their divorce, the ring feels like the final nail in the coffin for their marriage.

So she put it in her jewelry box, where it is safe but out of mind and she could worry about it later.

She never thought for a second that ‘later’ would arrive in the form of her ex husband telling her “Go get it and bring it here.”

It’s a beautiful ring; everything she ever wanted growing up. The cut, the size, the setting- John did a lovely job when he picked it out all those years ago.

Gonna be an officer’s wife, sweetheart he’d told her after she’d accepted his proposal. Gotta look the part.

Surely no one can blame her for not gnashing at the bit to part with it?

She hesitates for a moment before ultimately deciding to just do as she’s told- John didn’t tell her to put it back on. So she holds it pinched between her thumb and pointer.

In an alternate dimension, where she’d gone back with her date and let him charm her out of her new lingerie, there would be some insecurity over her body. Bringing three tiny lives into the world takes its toll in the form of stretch marks and loose skin and some extra weight that just clings to her like a needy toddler- but any time John has seen her naked, he is as moon eyed as he was the first time all those years ago. Like he can’t quite believe his luck and he’s not entirely sure she’s real.

Tonight is no exception. As soon as she’s in arms reach his hands settle on her hips, pulling her closer to him.

“We’re going to lay some ground rules, and then I’m going to fuck you into the mattress. Am I clear, pet?” Warmth and affection roll off of his tone in waves despite his words. All she can do is nod dumbly.

“This,” John takes the ring from her before sliding it back on her finger,” stays where it belongs. Right here.”

He pulls her even closer- she has to crane her neck to look up at him. “There’s no more dates with other men. That stops tonight.”

Another easy acquiescence. She nods in agreement.

He spins her slowly, facing away from him and then pulling at her hips so she’s sitting on him. She starts to hover, holding herself up until he swats at the side of her ass. “Now is not the time to play with me,” he warns.

She settles, feeling the mattress dip underneath their combined weight. John clearly has a plan in mind as he guides her to spread her legs, a chill running up her spine as the air laps at her wet cunt. His erection presses heavy at her ass, trapped between his body and her own.

His left middle and ring finger tap at her lower lip and she opens her mouth on reflex. John doesn’t even need to tell her to suck, tongue laving over the thick digits automatically, the same way she would his cock.

“I’m not mad,” he whispers in her ear, pressing a kiss to her temple. “You tried and tried to tell me, and I didn’t take you seriously, did I?”

She can only assume that this is all rhetorical- that there’s no way he can expect an answer out of her considering she’s gagging on his fingers.

“As soon as you told me you wanted a divorce in my office, I knew what it was. You needed my attention, and I wasn’t listening. I don’t blame you. Hell, I practically forced your hand. So I’m not mad,” he reiterates.

“But you’ve got my full attention now, lovely- I can promise you that.”

She twists as much as she’s able, watching John out of the corner of her eye while still sucking; her tongue tasting the metal of his ring as it ran along the base of it.

“We,” he pulls his fingers from her mouth, grinning when she chases his hand slightly, “are going to work this out. I love you, and I have no intention of letting another man raise my children.”

It would be easy to say the arousal dripping from her is left from when John’s mouth was on her, but that would be a lie. Him taking her in hand- literally- and telling her he has no intention of letting her go is definitely doing it for her.

Wet fingers grab at her jaw and turn her head, making her melt into his hold as he kisses her. “There’s my good girl,” his voice is a rumbling timber purring in her ear.

She whines when those two fingers trace down her body- an appreciative squeeze of her breasts trailing to grope at her ass before finally slipping between her legs.

“John,” his name is a whimper against his lips as she wiggles in anticipation.

“So impatient,” he admonishes gently as he works his fingers inside of her.

Warmed by their body heat, his ring isn’t cold against her skin by any stretch of the imagination. If anything, it feels like a white hot branding iron everywhere he touches. That tonight is a reclamation as much as a reunion as he crooks his fingers inside of her.

It was easy to ignore the need that burned in her at night. She’d run herself ragged during the day chasing after children and keeping all her ducks in a row. With John gone, it was easy to shove the desire down and ignore it.

But oh now that he has her in his arms, fingers buried in her as he works her closer to her peak? She feels like she’s on fire. Greed burns at her insides, needing more. Nothing short of climbing inside of him would abate the desire roaring in her body.

Her hips cant in short motions, following the movement of his hand eagerly.

As reluctant as she is to stop kissing him, she can feel a crick in her neck starting to form from keeping her head turned for so long.

Her head lulls against his shoulder when his free hand slips under the lace of her bra and grips one nipple between his middle finger and thumb, his pointer finger teasing the hardened nub in a way he knows drives her absolutely insane.

“Oh my God,” she squeaks just a breath too loud, her hand immediately clamping over her mouth as John pinches her nipple just shy of pain in reprimand. “Not too loud,” he reminds her, mollified when she nods in acknowledgement.

He’s got her panting in need in record time, a small part of her suspicious that he’s going to stop her short of her climax again. The anxiety only serves to fuel the fire burning in her gut, giving the final push to tip her over the edge.

Apparently neither trust her ability to be quiet when her climax hits, because John’s hand abandons teasing her breast in favor of also making sure her cries are muffled. The other is soaked as she squirts, twitching and bucking in his hold.

“Need to shove your face in a pillow,” he comments dryly, a shit eating grin on his face as he takes in her blissed out expression.

He knows her inside and out; knows exactly how long she needs to recover before he’s tapping at her side and prompting her up. “Get on the bed and lay on your back.”

She complies immediately on shaky legs, standing to turn and crawling to the middle of the bed.

John is just as delicious now as he was over a decade ago, and her brain threatens to short circuit watching him crawl over top of her. There’s more grey hairs and fine lines creasing around his eyes, and her heart still thrums in her ribcage like a hummingbird.

She relaxes against the mattress, trusting entirely that John has everything handled. He positions her how he wants, settling between her legs and rubbing the tip of her cock against her wet entrance.

“Please, John, I can’t wait anymore,” she begs, feeling like she’s about to lose her mind. The edge should be taken off considering John’s rather patiently gotten her off already once, and yet if anything it just makes her more frantic. As much as each swipe of his cock against her swollen clit sends tingles of pleasure up her spine, she’s gagging for him and running out of patience.

“You are a spoiled thing,” he admonishes good naturedly like he hasn’t made a habit of indulging her every whim and desire in the past decade up to and including getting a divorce.

“We might have our problems, sweetheart, but being able to fuck you right was never one of them, was it?” John teases as he lines himself up with her. She shakes her head in agreement. If she’s being truthful, that’s partially what had stayed her hand for as long as she had. The frustration with his work being so all consuming it was like his mistress had been a slow boil for quite some time. For years John would mollify her by fucking her into submission- and she has a sinking suspicion that their youngest was an attempt to get her to let up on the subject.

His generosity in the bedroom stems from equal parts wanting to please, and the pragmatic aspect that he is not a small man, and it’s usually easier for everyone involved if he gets her off before attempting penetration.

It’s like they haven’t missed a day- it takes a few thrusts to get her body to spread for him and then all the blood on John’s body dives south for the wet, warm cunt wrapping around his cock.

“This pretty cunt’s got me like a vice, sweetheart,” he praises, leaning down to kiss her.

“I missed you so much,” she whines into the kiss. “It feels so good.”

“I’m not gonna last,” he grunts against her neck, each clap of his hips against hers earning a whine. “You divine creature- got me wrapped around your finger, don’t you?”

An entire relationship’s worth of orgasms makes it so she doesn’t begrudge him that he’s going to be a quick shot tonight. His earlier statement is correct- if there is one thing the man knows how to do, it’s fuck her within an inch of her life. He’s proven that time and time again.

If anything, given their time apart, it appeases some of her anxiety- he must not be getting any from anyone else if he’s already this close to finishing.

“Look at me,” he instructs and she complies immediately. One of his hands strokes her face while his other arm braces his weight above her. “Tell me you love me.”

Her answer is immediate. “I do! John, I love you. I love you so much!”

His hips come to a halt against hers as he grunts against her neck in pleasure. “My perfect girl,” he praises, hands stroking at her sides as he comes down from his high.

She’s so caught up in the lust of the situation that it takes a second for reality to come knocking on her door. “Shit! Pull out!” she tells him, trying to scramble out from underneath him.

“What?” In all their years, ‘pull out’ has never been one of the instructions. He complies even as his brows knit in confusion.

“I haven’t been keeping up with my birth control!” Despite John’s easy assurance that he can just stroll in and assert that they are going to work through things (and she does want to)- adding a new baby on top of their mess will not help get shit sorted out.

Once again, his unflappable attitude has its way of driving her absolutely insane. “Bit late for that, innit? You’ve already had 3 of mine, what’s one more at this point?”

“One more at this point is exactly the point!” she tries to reason.

“We did say a girl would be nice,” he reminds her.

“That was before we got a divorce!” she hisses, trying to be mindful of her volume lest she wake their children.

“That’s nothing but paperwork, pet. We can have it sorted by the time you’re due.” John can tell he’s truly gone and wound her up more than he meant with that, immediately shifting gears to try and settle her back down.

“Okay, too much. I’m sorry. Come here,” he guides her to lay down, which she does albeit with a fair amount of suspicion.

John wisely chooses not to agitate her further or do anything that could be considered pushing in his luck (like, say, pointing out that despite her protests about another baby, she’s not said a peep about the cum dripping from her).

Instead he draws her up into his arms, sticking his nose firmly in her hair.

For a long moment it’s quiet, nothing but the sound of their breathing in the late night.

It catches her off guard when the tears come unbidden. One moment she’s happily lazing in her (ex-turned-hopeful-once-more?) husband’s arms, and the next she’s sobbing uncontrollably.

They’ve been through enough that it shouldn’t embarrass her. For fuck’s sake, she’d vomited all over him during the birth of their second son. But she feels like an exposed livewire sobbing over nothing and without warning.

“What’s wrong?” John mumbles as he wakes half-way, pulling her closer to him and stroking her back to console her.

“I mucked everything up,” she chokes out, burrowing her face against his neck. “I didn’t even want this, I just didn’t know what else to do!”

He shushes her gently, petting at her in an attempt to calm her down. “I meant what I said, pet. I know things have to change, but at the end of the day it’s just papers. We’ll get everything fixed back in its proper place.”

She doesn’t remove herself from the spot on his neck she’s nestling against, but quiets down and eventually they both fall asleep once again.

When she wakes again, she feels far more level headed- although neediness eats away at her. It’s like her body is craving to make up for lost time for the months they’ve been apart.

She can’t help herself as one hand trails down the thick hair dusting his torso, pressing kisses against his neck. Even in his sleep John responds to her touch- pulls at her to be closer to him, huffing as his dick twitches in interest.

It only takes a quick lick of her palm and a few strokes to have him stiffening in her hand.

The dried spend on the inside of her thighs is enough of a reminder, even if she’s feeling affectionate this morning, that she’s going to have to figure something out for her birth control.

For the morning at least the answer to that is easy- still working her hand in slow motion up and down on his shaft she kisses a trail down his neck and working her way south.

The movement is enough to have John stirring with a sinful groan in the back of his throat.

“Well good morning, gorgeous,” he greets, voice clouding in sleep in a way that makes her just want to sit on his face.

Humming out an acknowledgement, she continues to work her way down his abdomen. She does give in to the impulse to nip at the base of his happy trail, delighting in how he sucks back away from her teeth only to push at her head immediately after.

“Bad girl,” he admonishes with no true venom in his voice “Keep those teeth to yourself, hm?” he advises with an affectionate swat to her ass.

Rather than crawling down him, she’s got herself angled perpendicular to him. All the better for him to pet her with one hand while the other encourages her to take him in her mouth.

The moan he makes as she bobs her head is sinful, and she presses her thighs together and shifts her hips to get whatever little bit of friction she can- an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by John.

“That pretty pussy of yours needs some attention, doesn’t it sweetheart?” he asks, a warm hand running down her spine and trailing across her ass until he starts to tease her.

She works with a sense of urgency, even with John taking his time playing with her. They should have another hour or so to themselves before the boys wake up, but they’re also no strangers to a mad scramble under the covers with an unplanned interruption.

“Fuck,” he bites out a curse, hips flexing underneath her. That’s all the encouragement she needs to redouble her efforts, the hand not supporting her weight wrapping around him and stroking to help get him there faster. Despite their years together she’d never quite been able to take all of him down her throat.

“Look at me,” and the eye contact is all it takes for her to feel him stiffening beneath her. “Gonna swallow for me, sweetheart? Yeah, that’s my good girl- keep those eyes on- fuck,” he grunts, his climax hitting.

She’s well versed in swallowing his seed as he cums- keeps up the suction even as his orgasm tapers off just to see how long it takes him to grab her by the hair and pry her off of him.

“Sit on my face. And don’t even think about fucking hovering,” John orders and she complies immediately. His teasing while she’d blown him leaves her a horribly needy mess- None of the pent up lust releasing yet, although anticipation has her scrambling back up the bed and straddling his face.

He pulls at her hips, locking a forearm around her like he wants to make sure she isn’t going to change her mind and start teasing him back.

And fuck does that man know exactly where to lick and suck to make her eyes roll. One of her hands gripping the headboard for dear life, the other one buries itself in John’s hair. He takes direction like a champ, following the not-so-subtle cues from her as she pulls him where she wants him.

“Please, please, please,” she babbles breathlessly as he gets her teetering over the edge, only to release his hair in favor of clamping her hand over her mouth as her orgasm washes over her.

Her legs are weak as he guides her back down before getting her on her back and kissing her until she’s breathless. As engrossing as their make out session is, neither one particularly cares that they can taste themself on the other.

Eventually the pair wear themselves out, calming down from their earlier romp and managing to get into the shower and cleaning up.

It’s only after they’ve escaped the pull of their marital bed, as the water washes the lust out of her system that the reality of the situation comes knocking again, insistent.

“I want this to work, John.” She wants to melt at the way his expression softens at her.

“I do too, sweetheart- you have no idea how much.” A sigh escapes her, already fearing that they’re back on their loop that’s been the routine for the past decade. “What’s that for, hm?” he inquires.

“I want this to work, John,” she repeats “but things have to change. I mean it.”

“ I know you do,” he assures her, reaching down to kiss her temple. “I believe you.”

She’s uncertain if her refusal to be mollified is her winding herself into a snit again, or because she’s justified in the knowledge that this isn’t the first time they’ve had this conversation.

Especially when his palm drops to hover over her belly.

“You can’t try to get me pregnant if you’re not retiring from the field, John,” she asserts. “I can handle the boys, I cannot handle a fourth baby by myself.”

And much like a kind stranger trying to lure a skittish stray dog into their car, John hums in agreement.

Retirement from the military as a whole, she knows, is far too much of an ask. John has spent his entire adult life serving and it will probably take a career ending injury to get him to agree to retire outright. However she’ll happily settle for him promoting high enough that he’s not one of the first people contacted when they need boots on the ground. She just wants her husband home. She’s paid her dues being the sweet housewife raising the kids alone while he plays hero on the other side of the world. He’s beyond capable of climbing the ranks to one that involves less clandestine missions and more paperwork, and it’s absolutely infuriating that he hasn’t.

(She knows it’s not entirely a blind devotion to country and crown and preventing acts of terrorism, and the fact that he enjoys fucking off to who-knows-where at the drop of a hat- never knowing where he’ll be 24 hours from now at any given time, and he doesn’t want to give that up yet. She tries not to think about it too hard though, otherwise she’ll melt down like chernobyl.)

The hot water runs out before John’s refractory period, which is a good thing for her sake because she’s a scatter brained mess right now. The man’s not 20 and she doesn’t begrudge him the time it takes to recuperate, but she’s swinging wildly between being sappy and sentimental and wanting back what she had, and knowing full well she needs to get a grip before she does something stupid like letting John talk her into trying for a girl.

By the time they dry off and dress there are three hungry boys who are in for quite the surprise to see their dad come morning. No doubt there had been a reasonable expectation that John would leave in the middle of the night after they went to bed.

John keeps the boys distracted and out of her hair as she gets their breakfast sorted.

Before the divorce, the pair of them would go about their separate routines; making their morning caffeinated beverages of choice, idly commenting on the latest news headline, alternating getting things sorted for their children.

Now John hovers. Like he’s not entirely certain if he wants her out of his sight. He wrangles the boys to their seats as she gets their food, but it’s like one eye is kept trained on her.

Before the divorce, her children would make their protests- high pitch peals of ew! (The youngest, she suspects, merely imitating his older brothers who get a kick out of their parents' displeased stares) if they witnessed any displays of overt affection. While of course anything where they could see was kept G rated, once the boys thought something was funny they committed to the bit entirely.

Now, while she’s distracted by John giving a chaste kiss to her temple and running his hands up and down the sides of her arm, she realizes that the boys are as silent as the grave. Three sets of owlish eyes watch them intently before comically making a big show of going back to their breakfast as they realize they’re caught.

“John,” she starts quietly, eyes watching the boys before shifting her attention back to her husba- ex-husband. “We really need to talk about this. Actually talk.” Not just fuck each other silly - she knows they’ll just slip back into old habits. They need ground rules.

She knows how her husband works. If she can wrangle him into actually agreeing with a discussion, that is workable. John’s got his quirks and idiosyncrasies that she’s learned over the years. He won’t outright lie to her, he won’t go back on his word if he commits to something. But he will push and widdle and chip away at her to keep her compliant and happy enough to get off his dick (usually by putting her on his dick. Or mouth. Or hands. Or-

Anyway.)

“We will, sweetheart. Let’s just get through breakfast, hm?”

It is so familiar and yet still so different. The boys are running a mile a minute, eagerly soaking up the additional time with their father (the guilt gnaws at her- knows this could just be a normal morning. Had she either never divorced him, or kept him firmly away. This hemming and hawing that feels inevitable can not be good for the boys).

Screentime is a bit of a hot topic, but they need the boys content and quiet long enough for them to speak without interruptions.

The eldest is a bit too old for the target demographic for Bluey, but his handheld console is enough to keep him entertained.

She can’t help but feel like her oldest boy and John are conspiring- John firmly telling him “Your mother and I need to have a little talk with no interuptions. You keep an eye on your brothers, got it?” only for the oldest to salute him with a “Yes, sir!” that has John grinning as he herds her towards his office with a hand low on her back.

The click of the door sliding shut is as loud as a gunshot.

“I know I pushed too far,” John begins. The pair of them stand in front of each other. “You kept asking for the same thing over and over again. I never thought you would actually leave, but I can’t say I was surprised when you asked for a divorce. You were trying, and I wasn’t listening. I meant what I said last night. I’m not mad.”

It…. stings. Knowing the truth the whole time- John thinking he can just wait her out. That he can lean on her despite her protests and eventually she’ll give up. But it’s a dull pain, considering it’s something she’s lived with for years. She’s well familiar with it.

“So why? Why let it get that far. I know what you do is important. I know it’s selfish to ask you to give that up, but we’ve got three kids, John. You want a fourth! It is so hard to be the one who stays with them when you leave. They don’t grasp the situation. They just know that their dad’s gone and they miss you. And I cannot breathe when you are deployed and sent off to fuck-knows-where dealing with some of the most violent, dangerous groups on the planet. What if you don’t come home? How am I supposed to raise them without you?”

Sharp words coming from the same woman who kicked John out. But it’s the same story he’s been hearing for the better part of decade ever since their first was born. He can likely recite her speech from the heart at this point.

Like always, John is steadfast in the storm no matter how far into orbit she flies. He’s well acquainted with her whims, and knows just how easy it is to rile her up and yet also knows exactly how to bring her back down.

At the moment her expression is similar to that of a wet hen’s.

“I didn’t think you’d leave.” It’s the truth and she knows it and it pisses her off. “I knew you weren’t happy with it, but overall we were happy with each other. I wasn’t cheating on you. I’m not a mean drunk. I might be absent at times but I’m not cruel. I keep you happy in bed. You want for nothing. The boys know I adore them. Every marriage has its problems. I thought we both understood that the nature of my job is ours.” He sighs, rubbing a hand down his face.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” she reiterates, and she’s not sure if her voice warbles from how angry she is at the confirmation that he thought he could wait her out until he felt like retiring (or, more likely- she buries him), or at herself because she picked him and how mad can she be when he’s been honest about his work from the start.

There’s no clear cut villain. John is right. His job has weighed down on them since the beginning. In the beginning she thought she could handle it. But three children later and she’s begun to realize- far too late- that it’s so much. Subjecting them to something they never asked for because they were born into this schedule where John is beholden to Kate fucking Laswell more than his own family (peace and love to her- she’s great but she is the walking representation of everything they are struggling with in their marriage).

Her mind is a jumbling mess, like twine that’s interlocking and needing to unravel. There’s no clear cut path forward. She will go absolutely insane if things continue on the way they have been, but the time apart has shown her that she doesn’t really want to separate from John. No other man can even come close to him.

“So now what do we do?” she asks.

John steps closer to her, reaching to run his knuckles across her cheek in affection. “I want to come home, sweetheart.”

“It’s not that easy.”

She expects some sort of protest. Some sort of Yes it can be, and she’s not sure if she’s got the mental fortitude to continue holding her ground. But she knows that nothing will change if she lets up now. This is the moment where she either needs to throw in the towel, or maybe- just maybe there’s a chance.

They’ve made it this far. But she is so tired. She can’t go back but she’s got no idea what’s ahead or how long it will take to get there.

“I know. All I’m asking for is a chance.”

“It is your last one John, I swea-” She’s always hated that stupid fucking movie trope where the man shuts the woman up by kissing her. Yet here she is, her (fragile) attempt at a stern warning cut off as John snatches her up and pulls her to him.

After last night, one would think they’d gotten enough of each other to not be groping at each other like animals in heat.

Mother fucker he’s doing it again. He doesn’t fight as she pulls away, though those pretty blue eyes are blown showing where he would have been heading had she not stopped him.

“I mean it, John. You said you want this to work, but I need to see changes. You need to be home and not fucking off half away across the world at the drop of a hat. I need to be able to make plans and know that you will be here.”

“Anything, sweetheart. I just want my family back. I swear, I’m listening this time. I’ll figure it out.”

The lust has calmed from his eyes as he approaches again, making her look up at him. “You remember our little conversation from last night?”

He looks as serious as a heart attack, and there was a lot said last night.

She’s taking too long to answer, as he continues unprompted. “I know you’re not going to sign the papers overnight, and I’m fine with that. But your ring stays on, and there are no more dates with other men. You are mine. You are not single, and I expect you to act like it, hm?”

The chaste kiss to her temple is a sharp juxtaposition to the severity of his tone. He certainly doesn’t need to tell her twice.

“I promise,” she assures him, seeing how the intensity drains out of him as he’s mollified by her words. “I know I don’t have a right to ask, but did you- was there-” the words choke as she stumbles over them. She can’t be mad. She’s got no right to- they are divorced, and he (was) single and free to do as he pleases. But the idea of John drowning his sorrows in another woman’s body makes her want to claw someone’s eyes out.

And she really should have asked before he fucked her without a condom, but hindsight is 20/20.

Despite her inability to get the words together in the right order, John seems to know her question. He pulls her close to him, tucking her under his chin.

“No, sweetheart. There was never anyone else.”

The knot in her gut unwinds a little bit. “I love you, John. I’m sorry it came to this.”

“We’ll fix it, sweetheart.”

For a moment they stand there in the quiet, but there was no telling what sort of trouble their little trio might get into if left alone for too long. When John unlocks and opens the door, they both raise an eyebrow at the sight of their youngest dashing off around the corner.

Like the three little troublemakers had tried to listen through the door (which they would not be able to do- because she has tried once or twice), and the youngest was too slow to keep up with his brothers who are perched on the couch for all the world like they never left it.

The older two try to play their hand at staying cool, although the youngest boy is giggling- enjoying his “game” of teaming up with his brothers to try and pull a fast one on their parents.

“Do you have to leave?” The question from their oldest is deliberate, and succeeds in distracting them from the fact that their kids were definitely trying to eavesdrop on a conversation not meant for young ears.

“Not today,” John answers, ignoring the sharp look she shoots his way.

It’s a delicate balancing act as they stumble through picking up the broken pieces of their marriage. John can’t prove that he’s controlling his work hours unless she lets him in the house, but does give him shit about not moving in too soon. She doesn’t want him getting comfortable or complacent and back sliding on his promise.

Of course, John gets his lick back. There had been a stern conversation about condoms until her birth control is in hand.

Only to find out at her appointment that they can’t give it to her because she’s pregnant.

Mother fucker. Damn that “one shot, one kill” motherfucker. Their one slip up was the only discrepancy since they have gotten back together- that has to be when she conceived. Why did she fall in love with a sniper?

John is ecstatic with the news, as are the boys. She feels like a wet, disgruntled hen.

The new baby throws a wrench in her plans, but she can’t quite find it in her to be too disappointed once the shock wears off. John had been set on another baby, chattering on and on about how he hopes it’s a girl. They would have had another baby at some point, it’s just a bit sooner than she was anticipating.

No doubt for the boys, the new baby is an assurance that their parents aren’t staying separated. In their simplistic view, that’s as good as ink drying on paper that they’re staying together.

At her scan when it’s revealed she’s carrying boy #4, John kisses her temple and tells her how happy he is.

The youngest daughter that he’s got his sights set on is shelved for the duration of her pregnancy, not another peep of it mentioned.

A girl would have been nice, but she’s well experienced with wrangling John Price’s sons, and no doubt this one will fall into the group just fine.

John’s got quite the track record of giving her pretty babies, which everyone praises and compliments when the little man finally makes his arrival.

When he is home (which has been substantially more, she has to admit), he’s an active and involved father who’s besotted by his children and happily splits night duty with his exhausted wife. Keeps the older boys in line and behaving.

She doesn’t sign anything until John has a signed transfer request. While he’ll still be working in counter terrorism, and still be very close with the 141, his job no longer mandates he ups and leaves at the drop of a hat.

They celebrate quietly. Friends and family have made their opinions known about the back and forth tentative future of their marriage (mostly a well intended shit or get off the pot), and they elect to drop the boys with John’s parents to have a weekend for themselves.

There are no lusty slip ups and everything is followed to the letter but she wants to kill John when he grins at her positive pregnancy test.

Everything can fail, it seems. John merely commenting “Maybe this one will be a girl”, showing his hand that he hasn’t quite given up his dreams of a youngest girl to round out their gaggle of boys.

She doesn’t want to know the gender this time around, which John grouses about but ultimately accepts.

When Lt. Simon “Ghost” Riley promotes to a new rank, John is the one the man calls to ask him to participate in his ceremony.

She’s still in her second trimester, not quite teetering into her third just yet. John wants to bring the kids. If the third trimester exhaustion had stuck yet, she likely could have begged to be left out and he likely would have acquiesced. And the boys usually know better than to try anything when on base with John.

The day comes and she feels like a walking stereotype of an officer’s wife- gaggle of kids clinging to her skirt, the newest baby still clinging to her, and an unmistakable pregnancy bump.

“Cookin’ another boy in there, Mrs. Price?” Soap asks good naturedly while they’re waiting.

“Not quite sure,” she answers, eyes on her three more mobile kids making sure they’re settling in and behaving. “John’s been itching for a girl since before this one came,” she gestures to their youngest in her arms.

“Well, hopefully it’a girl then for yer sake- man’s gonna give ya a football team at this rate!” the Scot laughs, chortling at his own joke. There are times when she sometimes wonders how someone as charming as Johnny Mactavish got wrangled into clandestine counter terrorism missions, but then she remembers that as much as he can charm a bird from a tree, it’s comments like that that skirt just too comfortable that yes, he’s probably got a few screws loose. (She sometimes wonders about Kyle too, who is giving Johnny a “fucking really??” look, but can’t quite pin anything. The man is perfectly mild mannered and respectable, and she knows that their work can warp someone given enough time.)

“Hopefully so,” she answers amicably. While her pregnancy has been blessedly uneventful, she’s already over it and will be perfectly happy with this being her last.

Something tells her that John is going to get his wish, one way or another though.

Age in bio/pinned or I will block you ♡

#captain john price #John Price x reader #john price x you #captain price smut #dub con #dark!fic #<- that is just my typical 'catch all' blocklist tag for anyone who doesn't wanna read anything dark/dubious/etc.#I am being conservative with using the tag pinky promise #my writing

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hairmetal666 · 1 year

Text

Steve

Asking Eddie to move to Indy with him and Robin is the most natural thing in the world. After Vecna they became SteveandRobinandEddie, so it just made sense to live together.

Everything is perfect.

It changes one night, at their favorite gay bar. He and Eddie nurse a couple of beers at a hightop, while Robin dances with a cute blonde. Steve half-heartedly shimmies along to the Madonna song pumping through the speakers. Eddie watches him vamp to Material Girl with a look in his dark eyes that Steve can't quite read. It's not the usual fondness he's used to from his friend; too dark and too serious. It makes him nervous.

Eddie drains his drink, mouths the word "bathroom," at Steve, then disappears in the crowd.

Steve sips his own beer, letting his attention drift until he finds Robin, still dancing with the blonde, looking like she's having the time of her life. He expects Eddie back at any time, only--ten, fifteen minutes pass with no sign of him.

His eyes start scanning the crowd in earnest, desperately seeking familiar leather and denim and long dark hair. Anxiety builds in his chest, a dull sizzle beneath his skin.

He finally spots a set of leather-clad broad shoulders towards the back of the room. Eddie has one hand braced against the brick wall, pressed up nice and close to someone Steve can't quite make out.

There's bile in Steve's throat, nausea clenching at his stomach. He shouldn't look; he can't tear his eyes away.

The person is revealed in a flash of light from the dance floor. He has an All-American jaw, swoopy dark blond hair, and is wearing a grass green sweater. The closest thing to Indiana golden boy in the place, second only to Steve.

Room suddenly spinning, Steve struggles to catch his breath, but gives up entirely as Eddie closes the remaining distance between himself and the mystery man, sealing their lips in a searing kiss.

Steve watches, feels himself breaking apart piece by piece. He thought--he thought they were something. Becoming something. All their late night talks and casual touches. He'd been working up the courage to make a move for weeks, and now--

Maybe it's a mistake. Maybe Eddie breaks the embrace and gives an embarrassed chuckle before he comes back to Steve, only he doesn't. The kiss ends, sure, but then Eddie is taking the guy's hand, leading him down the hall towards the bathrooms.

Hands clutched in his hair, Steve sinks into a crouch. He pants, huffing like he just ran sprints, can't catch his breath. Tears dance at his lash line, threatening to fall. He can't have a panic attack now, here. Doesn't want Robin to see; doesn't want Eddie--

It's all too small, too tight, too loud, and Steve shoves his way outside. He rounds the building before sinking to the ground, hands shaking.

He waits outside until Robin and Eddie emerge from the club, both flushed and sweaty. He doesn't speak to either of them and they spend the drive in silence.

When they get home, he goes straight to his bedroom.

"Ste--" Robin calls, but he lets the door shut behind him. He doesn't think it slams.

Eddie

Steve hasn't spoken to him in weeks. Not since that night at the bar. When Eddie hooked up with a guy and he's pretty sure Steve knows; pretty sure it's why they're no longer on speaking terms. Eddie keeps meaning to confront him. He really does. It's just--it'll change everything, and his life was finally going okay for once.

He reaches his limit when he joins Steve in the kitchen before work, and the guy literally, visibly flinches away from him. It hits Eddie like being punched in the dick.

"What the fuck, Harrington." Eddie's voice is too loud in the small space.

"S-sorry, I'll just get out of your way." Steve's eyes don't stray from his own hands.

"I hook up with one guy and now can't even bear to touch me?"

"What? Eds that's not--"

"Don't lie to my fucking face."

"I wouldn't. Eddie, please--"

"I can't believe that this is the last vestige of King Steve. Can say you're cool with me, but when you see me do gay shit, you can't hang? Fuck you. I'm done. I'll be gone by the weekend." His voice stays remarkably steady, even though he's pretty sure not even the bat bites hurt this much.

"Christ, Munson, I'm not freaked out cause I saw you do 'gay shit.' I don't care." Steve's looking at him now; his little mouth held tight and mad.

"Like hell you don't. You haven't spoken to me since it happened."

"Not because I'm homophobic, asshole."

That makes Eddie laugh, shrill and mean. "Oh yeah? Then why."

"It doesn't matter." Steve yanks his hand through his hair.

"It does to me."

"Just drop it. You don't have to move out. I don't care who you fuck."

"You can barely stand to look at me!" Eddie shouts; doesn't mean to. "What if I bring someone home, huh? How are you gonna cope with that, knowing I'm fucking a guy in the next room?"

"It should have been me," Steve screams.

Neither of them move in the ringing silence that follows. Eddie's throat is tight.

"Wh-what?" He manages.

"Forget it." Steve turns to go. "Just--forget I said anything."

"Steve." Eddie follows him into their living room. His heart's beating all funny. "What do you mean?"

"It's nothing," Steve's face is leached of color; his eyes too bright.

"Please? I want to understand."

Steve laughs a little, looks absolutely miserable. "I saw you. With the guy. And he...he looked like me, right? And I don't understand why I'm not good enough."

Eddie swallows hard. "You don't--you're not--I didn't think you were a choice. For me."

Steve's chin drops, anywhere but on Eddie. "Yeah. Well. Surprise." He doe a pathetic flourish with his hands that clenches at Eddie's heart.

"Ah," is all Eddie can manage. The world is shifting under his feet, tectonic plates realigning as he processes Steve's words.

"It's--it's fine that you don't feel the same way. Just because you're gay doesn't mean you have to like me, and I--I was trying to get over it. I didn't want to--"

Eddie can't stand to listen to another word. He crosses the distance to Steve. "Shh, sweetheart. It's--just. Stop okay?"

Steve is looking up at him now, doe eyes wide.

He laughs, genuine this time. "Stevie. I've had a crush on you for years. Years. I used to make the guys go with me to Starcourt. I told them it was because I liked seeing King Steve laid low. Really I just liked how you looked in those little shorts." Steve giggles, face blushing such a pretty pink Eddie almost forgets what he's saying.

"It only got worse when I met the kids, with how much they talked about you. And then I met you for real? Pssh," Eddie waves his hand in the air. "Gone. No hope for Eddie Munson when you're--you're so pretty and bitchy and brave and hot, Steve, and I'm the weakest man in Indiana.

"That night. That guy. It was--I'd just overheard you and Robin talking about a cute girl, and I realized that I had to stop doing that to myself, pining over a straight guy who could never see me like I wanted. I decided that I'd try to pick someone up, force myself to see you just as a best friend."

Steve's face falls impassive. "Did it work?" He almost whispers.

"Not even close, baby," Eddie whispers back. "I'm hopeless for you."

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geekgirles · 5 days

Text

"The Flower that Blooms in Adveristy Is the Most Rare and Beautiful of Them All": A Brief Amalia Analysis

I've been meaning to talk about this scene since the episode premiered, as I find it perfectly encapsulates Amalia's character and her development.

On the one hand, we have the fact that she's long outgrown the pampered, sheltered princess archetype she was introduced as and become far more mature and multi-faceted.

Over the course of the show, we've seen how Amalia evolved from a girl who ran away from her responsibilities because she felt stifled in her own home after her mother's passing, to a girl whose reason to break the rules was the sake of her kingdom, determined to save it from Nox. To the point she eventually grew into the Sadida Queen mantle and was ready to do whatever it took to ensure her kingdom's safety and well-being, from accepting to marry a stranger, to finally stepping up to the challenge and ascending to the throne to guide her troops to victory despite having just lost her brother and such heavy burden thrusted upon her.

All the while dealing with her own trauma, heartbreak and desires as she watched her father wither away, her best friend since childhood was far away living her own life, Armand and Aurora tried to pressure her into marrying, she was manipulated by Oropo into almost abandoning Yugo, and she likewise suffered because she couldn't be with the man she loved despite both of them wanting nothing more.

And on the other hand, that scene also shows how, while not necessarily the most powerful member of the Brotherhood of the Tofu, Amalia's versatility is second only to Yugo and maybe Adamaï's, as well as it once again shows how despite her powers' development not being as flashy as Yugo's, it's still notable and impressive.

In a way, you could say Amalia's character and power development are both subtle, yet a constant of the show.

Amalia's gone from summoning vines and using her doll to being able to overpower a Xelor demigod without help, use her powers to light up dark spaces (seriously, girlie can create literal light out of plants, how?!?!?), growing cotton plants from stone to keep her and her friends in touch, and season 4 has her become the team's weapons provider against the Nécromes; an ability that, as far as I'm concerned, only King Oakheart was able to do back in season 1 when he created a new bow for Evangelyne.

And it that weren't enough to prove how layered and multi-talented she is, there's her fight against the Sadida Nécrome itself.

Up until that point, except for a few punches here and there, Amalia's been mostly a long-ranged combatant, much like Eva, relying on her plants to fight. However, her summoning that wooden staff and using it to fight against the Nécrome shows that she's actually quite adept at hand-to-hand combat, too, especially when she moves with such grace and her strikes hold that much precision. Which at the same time means that not only Armand received training from the best masters around, so did Amalia.

This all comes to show Amalia is an example of the hardships she's endured slowly molding her into the person she was always meant to be, into the queen she was always meant to be. Grougal already said back in season 1 she had the heart of a Sadida Queen, her adventures were always meant to get her to that point.

Much like his adventures eventually turned Yugo both into the king his people longed for, and the one Amalia needed by her side. Everything they have been through together have led them to this moment, to the chance to stand together as king and queen, as husband and wife.

To stand together as one.

This is what Amalia had been preparing for her entire life. And I, for one, am proud to say, "All hail Queen Amalia."

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fhrlclln · 2 years

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Omg so like what if reader is at a party and it's late at night but there are some guys there that are scaring her. Her dad isn't home to call to come pick her up and she can't drive since she's been drinking so she calls eddie instead. He does have a reputation in town and he looks mean so when he shows up everyone kinda moves out of his way and he goes to look for her. Once he gets her home and cleaned up for bed he starts scolding her for being so thoughtless (responsible eddie showing his age lol) but she starts to cry because he's never talked to her like that and he ends up feeling really bad and it's just them having like a little fluffy moment. Also I'm thinking this is like further down in their relationship where her parents know about them and stuff.

older!mechanic! eddie x fem! reader

I LOVE THIS IDEAAAA, thank you anons 🙌

and yes, eddie being his old matured ass, he is very protective of reader. i am kneeling rn. 🧎‍♀️

also, so sorry i took so long to respond !!

also here’s the imagine connected to this !! older!mechanic! eddie

suggestive themes under the cut

｡･:*˚:✧｡

“pick up, pick up, pick up. pleaseeee.” you muttered to yourself nervously, the landline phone on your ear close, glancing back and forth from where you are in the kitchen, glancing to see the group of guys staring at you from the far corner of the living room. the sea of people dancing only the barrier as you quickly looked away. you cringed, glad you still had some sense even though you felt drunk as hell. a party had been going on the up street neighborhood, it was like all house parties, everyone is invited and everyone is free to join. college frat parties like so.

it was fun at first, but you are just itching to go home now after one dude had been too intent on asking you out a while ago. you already told him you had a boyfriend— which was entirely true, but the said creep didn’t back down after countless no’s and fuck off’s. but you managed to stray away, and now his group are watching you like hawks, ready to strike at your most vulnerable. which is why your drinking stop, you already felt tingly and dizzy and it was time to go home. the music was getting boring anyway.

you opted to call your dad but he wasn’t home, probably having a drink with his friends too. you couldn’t call your mom, knowing she’s asleep and could literally yell at you for being at a party and would make things worse for your headache. you decided it would be eddie, who’d you call. your parents trust him enough knowing the established relationship between you two. and to mention, your dad is so very fond of him. a win-win perhaps.

“hello, who is this?” your breath stilled as the ringing finally stopped as you heard his voice. not enough time to respond back, still a little dizzy as he cuts you off. “if this is that one jackass prankster who keeps barking, i’m fuck—“

“eddie. it’s m-me.” you meekly replied, feeling groggy as you hiccupped.

“sweetheart? what’s going on? where are you?” he immediately asked as you hummed sleepily. wanting for him to be here.

“can you come pick me up?” you hiccupped, “‘m at a party right now. i need you.” you glanced back to the group of guys staring at you. you let out a shaky sigh ass you could hear eddie shuffling in the other line. “there’s a bunch of creeps staring at me. please hurry up.”

“creeps? baby, are you alone?” eddie asked worriedly, hearing the music blare in the background of your voice.

“y-yeah. ‘m friends—“ you hiccuped, lying a bit knowing he’ll be mad that you’re alone. “my friends are somewhere h-here…i’m in the kitchen.” you gulped, feeling the nausea slowly start to sink in. you whined as you rest your head on the wall, holding the landline phone dearly on your ear.

“give me the address now. i’ll be there soon.” you muttered the address coherently, saying it two times wanting him to come to you quickly. the sound of a squeaky door opened loudly on the other line as eddie’s footsteps were heard. “you just stay there where you are, sweets. do not fucking go anywhere alone.”

“i will, eddie.” you whispered hearing him hang up as you lazily put the phone back on the receiver. you leaned on the counter, sobering up a bit as you tried your best not to fall down on your ass.

to say,

eddie was fuming, in utter complete rage. he swerved his van to a vacant spot in front the roaring house. getting out hurriedly as he slammed his van door shut. the party was still lively with a lot of people in it from outside to inside. music blasting from the inside, horny young adults kissing, drinking— he could remember the times he had been in parties back then making bucks from dealing, but that didn’t mattered now. he can smell the alcohol as he neared the door. he opened it, earning the attention of the people near the entrance.

“shit, that’s mr. munson—“ one of the boys muttered, staring at the leathered jacket man with a hint of fear in his face. eddie felt the whole room stare at him now, all partially intrigued and intimated seeing the tall mean-looking man step forward to the sea of people. a shiver ran down eddie’s spine, concealing his discomfort of the stares, it felt he was in highschool again— which sucked.

“move.” he grumbled to the dancing people blocking him towards the kitchen. they immediately part a way for him, seeing him already unpleased with the scent of sweat and alcohol in the air. god, he hated parties so much. all stood silent as he finally sets his eyes on you and to an incoming man inching towards your sunken form, as you desperately tried to hold yourself up the counter. he felt his heart surge knowing you mentioned some guys giving you the creeps, in which he immediately stomped to stop the said man eyeing you.

the creep furrowed his brows as eddie came into view before he could grab you. “hey, man. what the fuck—“

“fuck off.” eddie’s voice dropped as the creep backed down. a vein bulge on forehead as the creep scurried away, knowing hell who eddie is. oh, eddie knew he had a reputation in this town for looking intimidating. he still dressed the same like in highschool, just that the evident matureness on his face and more ink on his body caused him to be gossiped around how scary he looked.

which was not true. at least to you, as you felt arms wrap around your waist. you were about to protest until the familiar scent of oak cologne and cigarettes passed your nostrils. your heart thumped as you immediately looked up to see the man you’ve been waiting for as you drunkily smiled at him. your boyfriend. that looks pissed.

“eddie!” you hiccupped, jumping up to encircle your arms around his neck. his shag hair brushing against your cheek as you nuzzled closer to him. chest brushing against his.

“baby, let me get you home.” he mumbled, patting your back gently. you nodded, kissing his cheek as he kissed your forehead. not caring if anyone saw the you two. on the way out, people eventually parted a way for him and you, not questioning anything, it felt sort-of a win, knowing his intimidating presence made anyone flee. hurtful it felt sometimes, but at least the drunk you in his arms said otherwise. you were clingy, clingy for his touch and his affection. he gave it you before you’d sober up and the massive scolding he’ll have to do afterwards.

eventually he helped you up the stairs now in your house, up to your bedroom. your mother was asleep and you told him to be quiet, afraid you both would be getting a yelling from her. you got to plop down to on your bed, before you could feel yourself blacking out. every ounce of strength you had left diminished after such a exhausting night. you tried not to sleep, hearing eddie shuffle inside your room. you could hear him open your closet, shuffling through your clothes then back to somewhere else. you groggily let out a sigh, brain a little mushy but a little sobered up.

“sweetheart, sit up for me.” he tapped your thigh as you lazily complied. sitting up with a groan, back slumping forward as eddie held your face up. your eyes fluttered to see him holding a towel, he gently wiped the sweat on your face. his calloused hands gripping the side of your head as gently as ever, you rubbed your face against the palm of his hand, feeling a little fluttery how good he smelled up close. the comforting silence passed by as you started to feel the drowsiness again until he finally spoke.

“i thought you said you had friends over at that fucking frat party.”

“hm? i-i did, they’re—“

“don’t fucking lie to me, sweets.” he sighed, letting go of your face as he threw the towel on the bed. crossing his arms as he stands in front you with a clipped look on his face.

“i swear, eds, i was just having fun.” you mumbled embarrassingly, feeling his anger.

“fun? that was fun? getting almost cornered by those creepy shitheads was fun? do you have any idea how fucking worried i was, y/n?” you stilled, not used to hearing your name come from his mouth, let alone how angry his tone is. you stared at him in silence, his nostrils flared as the vein on his forehead bulged. you averted his gaze, feeling shameful. his eyes burned holes through you as he waited your answer.

“i’m sorry.” you quietly mumbled, feeling your eyes water. “i-i just wanted to drink ‘s all—”

“i fucking swear, in the middle of the fucking night. you’re hurting my head...” he grumbled, stepping away as he rounded to your closet, opening it as your lip trembled. he never talked to you like this, it was the first time you ever heard him so pissed off at you and you felt bad. your fingers fiddled with each other, disappointment filling your chest. you merely look down at your hands, tears dropping as you tried to hold-in a sob, feeling a little pathetic now that you were fucking crying just because of this.

eddie sighed to himself, picking out clothes in your closet so you can change in. he wasn’t necessarily mad-mad, just that it pained him to think about if a scenario like this could happen again. he wouldn’t restrict you from parties, hell, he was an active out-goer back then in his young 20’s. right now, he didn’t think of it as fun anymore sometimes. he works, he has a job, numerous responsibilities, he doesn’t remember half the thrill he had back then unlike you now. he guessed this came with his oldass.

he turns around, freezing on the spot when he sees your head titled down, little sobs coming from your mouth along with sniffles. you were trying so hard not to make it obvious but seeing as he saw you, the tears started flowing again. guilt filled his chest as he cursed to himself seeing that he had made you cry. shit.

“hey, hey, baby. why you crying, sweetheart?” he kneeled down to your level, grasping your hands to his. you looked up to his brown orbs, the tears blurring your vision. you sniffled, feeling like you made a fool out of yourself infront of your own boyfriend.

“i-i’m sorry. i’m used to to you…” you paused, gulping. “not seeing you angry at me. i-i’m sorry, eddie.” you sniffled, wiping away the wet tears as eddie softens his gaze. “just wanted to have fun this night. you were working and i didn’t have anyone else. i’m sorry.”

“i know, sweetheart.” he says heartedly, this week has been busy on him. he spent days in his shop, working for every customer. “but you know you gotta take care of yourself.”

he wipes the tears on your cheeks as you look at him, nose sniffling as you nodded, still feeling a little sleepy. eddie hummed seeing as you eyes sparkled as he gives you a small smile, indicating everything was alright. he leaned in, capturing your pouty lips to his, soft and slow as you eagerly reciprocated, missing his closeness. sitting up straight, letting out a small moan between as his tongue joined in, making the sweet kiss a little sloppy. all pent-up feelings being brought out. the stubble of his beard sent shivers down your spine when it tickled your chin. you pulled him closer, wanting everything for him to be on top of you right now. but he had the opposite idea as he pulled away making you whine lowly.

“not tonight.” he whispered hoarsely, cigarette scented lips too intoxicating for you to not stare at them as he chuckled. “you’re wasted and tired. i’ll give it to you in the morning, don’t worry.” he kissed your cheek with a promise as you nodded, pecking his lips, thankful he was here for you making your heart flutter. how did you bagged a man like him? you always wondered how lucky you are right now.

“i love you.”

“i love you too, sweets.”

｡･:*˚:✧｡

WHEN IS IT MY TURN?!?! anyways i’m back. 🙄

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem! reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #older!eddie #mechanic!eddie #joseph quinn #stranger things #stranger things season 4 #stranger things imagine #fnhrlcllnwrites #eri’s quick ideas 💡 ｡･:*˚:✧｡#eri’s request box 📦 ｡･:*˚:✧｡

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quite-right-too · 8 months

Text

Do you know what kills me about The Runaway Bride?

The fact that Donna's appearance in the TARDIS happens literally minutes after the Doctor just said his final goodbye. Just imagine it from his perspective.

The woman you love so much that you subconsciously changed your entire anatomy to be perfect for her; all of the characteristics of the ideal partner integrated into you because it's Rose and why wouldn't you want to give the best. You barely get a couple minutes to say goodbye to her, now locked in a parallel universe that you know cannot safely be opened enough to bring her home. You don't even have enough time to say I love you before the breach closes. You're crying and you're grieving, but only for a couple minutes. Just enough time to move the TARDIS into the Time Vortex. Suddenly, this loud ginger woman in a wedding dress impossibly appears in your console room. You just lost your best friend, your partner, your everything. And now you have to get back into action to save humanity again without getting the time to really handle this loss.

Don't even think I forgot the dialogue and even the scenes where we actively see him upset while thinking of Rose. Everything reminds him of her and it's like the universe is trying to rub it into his face.

(Donna grabs a blouse that is hanging over the railing.) DONNA: I knew it, acting all innocent. I'm not the first, am I? How many women have you abducted? DOCTOR: That's my friend's. DONNA: Where is she, then? Popped out for a space walk? DOCTOR: She's gone. DONNA: Gone where? DOCTOR: I lost her. DONNA: Well, you can hurry up and lose me! How do you mean, lost? (The Doctor takes the blouse from Donna and throws it through a doorway.) DOCTOR: Right, Chiswick.

DOCTOR: Trust me. DONNA: Is that what you said to her? Your friend? The one you lost? Did she trust you? DOCTOR: Yes, she did. And she is not dead. She is so alive. Now, jump!

DOCTOR: I spent Christmas Day just over there, the Powell Estate, with this family. My friend, she had this family. Well, they were my-. Still, gone now. DONNA: Your friend, who was she? DOCTOR: Question is, what do camouflaged robot mercenaries want with you? And how did you get inside the TARDIS?

What about when Love Don't Roam is being sung by the singer at the reception, and all the Doctor can do is reminisce sadly about him and Rose. Also, Love Don't Roam was written specifically about TenRose canonically so...

DOCTOR: I'll sort it out, Donna. Whatever's been done to you, I'll reverse it. I am not about to lose someone else.

Or how he decides he's gonna kill a bunch of children because he's hurt and not thinking clearly. He needed Donna to snap him out of it. DOCTOR: My home planet is far away and long since gone. But its name lives on. Gallifrey. EMPRESS: They murdered the Racnoss! DOCTOR: I warned you. You did this. EMPRESS: No! No! Don't! No! EMPRESS: No! No! My children! No! My children! My children! DONNA: Doctor! You can stop now! EMPRESS: My children! DOCTOR: Come on. Time I got you out.

DONNA: That friend of yours. What was her name? DOCTOR: Her name was Rose.

And let's not forget that in Turn Left, Donna's alternate universe that Rose finds her in shows what would have happened without Donna there. The Doctor actually kills himself because he couldn't stand to be without Rose. HARRIS: The Doctor is dead. Must have happened too fast for him to regenerate. Escort the ambulance back to UNIT base. (Donna walks on. A blonde woman runs towards her. She speaks as if her top lip is glued to her teeth.) ROSE: What happened? What did they find? I'm sorry, did they find someone? DONNA: I don't know. A bloke called the Doctor, or something. ROSE: Well, where is he? DONNA: They took him away. He's dead. I'm sorry, did you know him? I mean, they didn't say his name. Could be any doctor. ROSE: I came so far. DONNA: It, it could be anyone. ROSE: What's your name? DONNA: Donna. And you? ROSE: Oh, I was just passing by. I shouldn't even be here. This is wrong. It's wrong. This is so wrong.

Just him mourning breaks my heart every time.

#my post #doctor who #tenth doctor #rose tyler #donna noble #the runaway bride #tenrose #ten x rose

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jigujellee · 10 months

Text

NEWJEANS AS JEALOUS GFS HEADCANNONS

a/n: just a fun lil attempt at hcs since i rarely do them,, to whoever requested this, i hope u enjoy my attempt 🥹 i'm sorry if they're not accurate jaldfadlfljdf

a/n 2: pics are not mine!! links to layouts used are listed below w respected @ <33

MINJI (pic/layout creds courtesy of @k1sseo)

so bro™️

i think when minji gets jealous she’s just quiet

and she could get a little snarky sometimes, but just a smidge

minji didn’t expect to come home to you and hyein laughing your asses off at some random tiktok you were showing her

for some reason she was very bothered by it even tho you guys were naturally close

you kinda took awhile to notice her standing there but you once you did, you were quick to wrap your arms around her

she’ll play it off and act normal but she’s def quiet and i think she’d look like she’s deep in thought about something

so when you ask her to do something with you, that’s when light bulbs go off

“hey wanna go grab lunch later” “idk why don’t you go with hyein instead”

then you drag her to lunch anyway and endlessly tease her for being jealous in the first place

you also tease her ab the fact that she got jealous over the YOUNGEST member 😭 like ma’am, you think we’re gonna catch a case????

“i didn’t press you for the jealous type bro” “just shut up and eat”

HANNI (pic/layout creds courtesy of @winuary)

every time i see/think of this girl she’s always smiling

so i think when she gets jealous she’ll still be smiling but like it’s def forced and looks fake

or if she’s not smiling then she 100% looks like this from that one live they did

either way that shit makes her stomach feel weird deep down

she’ll watch you and minji just monitoring your dance practice but you guys are just way too close together and minji’s shoulders brush against yours and-

“hanni, you okay? you’ve been zoning out for a while” and she just smiles again and plays it off

you knew something was up so when you’re back at the dorms that’s when you ask her and she shyly admits that seeing you that close w minji made her feel uneasy

you kiss her forehead softly and tell her she has nothing to worry about before pulling her into bed and cuddling w her for the entire night (even if ur arm goes incredibly numb cuz girlie does not move an inch away from u)

DANIELLE (pic/layout creds courtesy of @i04rei)

dani wears her heart on her sleeve she’s adorable

so yk she’s jealous right away

you and hanni just came back from the mall and you are literally so happy

dani loves it when ur happy!! but it also makes her kind of sad that she’s not the one making u laugh and smile like that :(

she’s pouting while on her phone and u immediately take notice

“are u watching sad edits of cats again?” “naURRRR”

“you just seem awfully happy when you’re w hanni” “well yes bc shes my friend” more pouting and ur just trying not to melt at how cute she is

“how about we go to our fav cafe tmrw after our sched and then we can go watch the barbie movie after?” “but you don’t like barbie” “i don’t like a lot of things but if you like them, then i’d be more than happy to do them with you”

she just melts and forgets all ab what happened earlier

ft. hanni minji and hyein in the background trying not to gag out loud

HAERIN (pic/layout creds courtesy of @venitly)

radio silence.

she’s already naturally quiet as is and she def does not speak her emotions compared to the others

so it takes you a little longer to figure out when she’s jealous vs the other members

after finishing a movie w danielle, she just blankly watches the two of you have deep conversations ab it

and honestly you confuse her jealous silence for her normal silence at first

but you start realizing the difference when she’s less affectionate with you (bc behind closed doors i think haerin is so affectionate like she deadass wont let go of you and is so touchy, needs to be holding you or be in close proximity w you)

“haerin, are you okay?” and she just nods. girl pls give us something to work with

she never really openly admits that she was jealous of you and dani but ur smart genius self put two and two together and connected the dots when u saw she was quiet around dani too but not the others

but bc she never outwardly said it, you don’t outwardly tell her not to worry or not to be jealous. instead you spend more time w her and getting her her fav snacks and whatnot and she appreciates it so much

haerin likes how you don’t need to be told when something bothers her, and when you figure it out, you always knew how to make her feel better without words

actions do speak louder than words and haerin knows how true that is with you

HYEIN (pic/layout creds courtesy of @v-ico)

i’m gonna go for a platonic type of jealousy for hyein

she wanted to show u a new app she downloaded but u told her u were busy learning the new choreo from haerin

and she just whines

not like an annoying child throwing a tantrum kinda whine but just in a “why do u alw have sumn better to do” typa way

when u finish w haerin ur quick to go back to the dorms to see hyein napping

and u lowk feel bad bc all she wanted to do was show u sumn

u decide to let her sleep but ur idiot self banged ur hand on her door while trying to close it and now u feel bad even more bc she woke up

“you’re back alr unnie?” “yeah i came here quickly so you could show me the app”

hyein is super excited even tho she jus woke up, and shes reaching for her phone and is tapping thru w such speed

you both spend hours on the app (i keep saying the app bc idk what kinda app it would be 💀 im thinking either a game or a photo filter app idk) before ur both scolded by minji for being on the phone all day

it’s literally giving when ur little sibling just wants to show u sumn cool but ur too busy and u feel bad

#newjeans #nwjns #newjeans imagines #newjeans scenarios #newjeans headcannons #newjeans hcs #newjeans minji #newjeans hanni #newjeans danielle #newjeans haerin #newjeans hyein #newjeans x reader #kpop headcanons #jigujellee

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whatstruthgottodowithit · 1 year

Note

Elvis comforting you cause you’ve got period cramps?

Helping

Fandom: Elvis Presley, Elvis Movie RPF, RPF, American Actor

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Female Reader

Characters: Elvis Presley, Female Reader, Gladys Presley, Minnie Mae Presley, Dodger Presley

Word Count: 2435

Rating: Gen

Summary: Gladys and Dodger give Elvis a biology lesson.

Tags/Warnings: Requests, Requested Fic, Periods, Period Cramps, Menstruating, Spooning, Arguing, Fighting, Established Relationship, Old Fashion Views [kinda]

Notes: Here you go honey.

PSA I’m working through my inbox and trying to update my ongoing series <3

Updated 8/23

Elvis Tags: @literally-just-elvis-fics @caitlin1996 @notstefaniepresley

Elvis sat stewing, a pout on his face. He was sitting in his living room with the TV on though it was mostly playing to itself as his mind, as it often was, was on you, though this time was different. This time he was annoyed, no not annoyed, not really, he was just hurt. Since the pair of you had started dating it had been nothing but bliss and though he was used to lover’s spats in his previous dating history it had never happened with you two. Well until today.

And it had hit him like a freight train. He didn’t even know what he had done but from the moment he had picked you up you had had a sour look on your face that no amount of sweet talking or handholding could take away. That had frustrated him which had in turn frustrated you which had led to the two of you yelling at one another until you had stormed off into his bedroom slamming the door behind you as a quite clear signal you were not to be followed. If he was honest with himself he wasn’t entirely sure what the pair of you had been arguing about it had snowballed out of control so fast. Hence why he was sitting on his couch unsure of what to do for the best.

He wondered what you were doing. Had you been crying? Were you cursing his name? Or were you sitting in his room contemplating what the hell you had been fighting about like he was? His thoughts were cut short as he heard noise from the front door and his mother and Dodger came in arms laden with bags. He jumped up to help, taking the groceries out of Dodger’s arms first and rushing them into the kitchen before he doubled back for his mother’s though she was already in the door of the kitchen as he took them out of her arms.

‘Thank you darlin’,’ Gladys said as he placed the bags on the counter and moved out of her way so she could start to unpack.

‘No problem. Was it busy out?’ he said, resting back on the counter as he watched her.

‘Not too bad. We stopped for a rest at Charlie’s though. Your Grandma’s knee was playing up again,’ she said as she moved around the kitchen placing various items in their new homes.

‘That’s too bad,’ he said though it wasn’t as receptive as normal. Gladys glanced around, noting the mopey look on her son’s face straight away.

‘I’d ask how your day went but from the look on your face not so good,’ Gladys said. Her movement slowed as she placed some items in the cupboard they belonged in and then turned around to look at him completely. He looked up from where he’d been staring at the faded linoleum flooring at his mother’s kind eyes. He could feel the urge to tell her the truth, she always pulled whatever it was out of him but he couldn’t this time. He didn’t actually know what was wrong.

‘It’s nothing. M’fine,’ he said.

‘Tell that to the pout on your face,’ Gladys said. She folded her arms across her chest making him sigh. He could feel that tug of her motherly gaze yanking the truth out of him.

‘It’s Y/N,’ he sighed.

‘Is she okay?’ Gladys asked, her movements returning once she knew he was going to open up.

‘I don’t know,’ he said, ‘we had a fight.’

‘Ah,’ she said, ‘what about?’

‘That’s the thing, Mama,’ he said, ‘I don’t know.’

‘What do you mean you don’t know?’ Gladys asked sceptically.

‘What don’t Elvis know?’ came a familiar voice as Dodger appeared in the doorway. She winked at him as she passed him, heading to sit at the kitchen table which she dropped into with a sigh of relief as her hand instinctively went to her knee.

‘He and Y/N had a fight and he doesn’t know what it’s about,’ Gladys said, ‘though I don’t know how you can argue and not know what you’re arguing about.’

‘He’s a man, Lovie,’ Dodger chuckled making Elvis roll his eyes.

‘It’s not my fault,’ Elvis said coming to sit in the chair next to her.

‘The fact you can't recall what you’re at odds over don’t bode well for ya in my opinion,’ Dodger said.

‘That’s the thing I can’t pick out one thing we were talking about that got us arguin’,’ Elvis said.

‘Well what were you talking about,’ Gladys said.

‘Not much,’ he shrugged, ‘but she’d had a face on her all day. Nothing I did seemed to be right and it just got under my skin y’know.’

‘So you got annoyed with her for being annoyed with you?’ Dodger asked.

‘Well yeah,’ he said, ‘I mean I hadn’t done anything for her to be mad at. Then she just storms away into my bedroom like I’m just supposed to know what the hell’s wrong with her.’

‘Well I’m sure she’ll come around,’ Gladys said coming to stand beside him and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder which made him smile, the first time he had all day.

‘I hope so,’ Elvis said.

‘Maybe she’s just having a bad day,’ Dodger said.

‘Bad week’s more like it,’ he mumbled.

‘What do you mean?’ Gladys asked.

‘Well today she’s mad at me for no reason and yesterday she cried at a damn advert on the TV,’ he said, ‘I can’t keep up.’

Gladys and Dodger shared a look that Elvis didn’t miss though it caused his eyes to narrow as he looked between the women.

‘What?’ he asked cautiously.

‘Nothing,’ Gladys said though Elvis didn’t look convinced. Gladys sighed, ‘it’s just…has Y/N been like this for a couple of days?’

‘I guess,’ he shrugged.

‘And has she said anything else?’ Gladys asked.

‘Well, she said she was tired but we were out late the other night so I just figured it was that,’ Elvis said, ‘why?’

‘It’s just that well…there might be a reason she’s not feeling too great,’ Gladys said slipping down into a seat beside him.

‘What you mean like she’s ill?’ Elvis said.

‘No, no, not ill…’ Gladys said glancing at Dodger who rolled her eyes.

‘What your mother is skirting around is that well, ladies, like Y/N, can often not feel themselves at this…time of the month,’ Dodger said. Elvis was watching her intently trying to digest her words the best that he could. As they sunk in he tried to wrap his head around what she was getting at and the way both of the women were watching him told him it was perfectly evident. Memories of an 8th-grade science class punctuated his thoughts making his eyes go wide.

'Oh, oh, girls’ stuff…right,’ he said uncomfortably. Both women heaved a sigh of relief as he finally got on the same page though his confusion hadn’t gone far, ‘wait why didn’t she just tell me?’

‘Because you men ain’t always right nice about a girl in her…situation,’ Dodger said.

‘Well I can't be nice about something I didn’t know was happening, can I?’ Elvis said feeling a tad like a scolded child.

‘Well now you know,’ Gladys said trying to de-escalate the situation. Elvis nodded thinking about the argument once more. It was easier now he knew it wasn’t something he had done rather something that was neither of their fault but he still didn’t know how to fix it.

‘What do I do? I mean to fix it-’

‘Ya can’t fix it,’ Dodger said making him frown before she followed up with, ‘it’s not broke. Look darlin’ she’s not some devil you gotta tiptoe around and she’s not some fragile thing that’s gonna break over a bit of blood.’

‘I’m lost,’ Elvis said.

‘You just gotta treat her like a human being,’ Gladys said.

‘Acknowledge you both got a little outta hand and admit that you’re sorry,’ Dodger said.

‘See if there’s anything you can do for her,’ Gladys smiled.

‘But don’t coddle her,’ Dodger chimed in.

‘Okay you two are confusing me,’ Elvis said.

‘Just go talk to her, okay?’ Dodger said. Elvis looked between their motherly gazes and then nodded standing up from the table. They watched as he headed out of the door, though they didn’t feel the panic inside him as he neared his own bedroom door. He lingered outside it, unable to hear you moving around which made him worry even more, until he worked up enough courage and tentatively knocked on.

There was a moment of silence and he was almost going to knock again until he heard your voice call out softly. He unlatched the door and stepped inside. You were sitting on the floor, your eyes puffy and red from crying though it appeared to have long since stopped. Elvis felt his heart flip flop. He didn’t come any further inside though still too unsure of what you would say.

‘Hey,’ he murmured nervously as he dropped his gaze to his hand on the door handle.

‘Hi,’ he heard you reply.

‘Can I come in?’ he asked.

‘It’s your room,’ you mumbled and though it didn’t reassure him he decided not to flee and instead closed the door behind him and came to sit beside you. Neither of you spoke for a moment. When the silence was broken it was you who spoke.

‘I’m sorry,’ you said.

‘What for?’ he asked finally looking up to find you watching him.

‘I didn’t mean to get so upset with you…you didn’t deserve me arguing with you like that,’ you said.

‘I mean it takes two to tango,’ Elvis said, ‘I shouldn’t have argued back…I mean I don’t even remember what we were arguing about.’

‘Me either,’ you said with a slight giggle.

‘Well it can't have been that important then,’ he smiled.

‘No you must be right,’ you smiled back. Elvis looked like he was debating what to say first which made your eyes narrow as you said, ‘what?’

‘Nothing…’

‘Elvis,’ you said.

‘It’s just…Mama and Dodger they kinda told me why you’re…I mean why y-y-you might not b-b-be feeling yourself…this week,’ he said tripping over his words as he felt redness rush to his cheeks.

‘Oh, right,’ you said feeling a similar flush come to your own face. You didn’t know why. It wasn’t like you were a novice at this but Elvis was your first proper boyfriend and so far your time of the month hadn’t been much of an issue until this week. This week you had felt unusually horrendous. Your moods were all over the place, you’d had a flare-up of acne and migraines and to top it off you had been gifted a horrendous bout of cramps [the worst you’d had in a while]. Which meant your tolerance for your sweet and loving boyfriend had gone out the window. You’d found yourself being annoyed at him the moment he had picked you up until finally, you had ended up screaming at each other for some unknown reason.

‘Are you okay?’ he asked after a moment. You weren’t. Your back was aching, and you had a migraine growing but the look on his sweet face made you feel better. He looked as though you were on death’s door, the worry burned into his pretty features.

‘I’m fine Elvis,’ you said.

‘B-b-because you can tell me,’ he said, ‘if you’re not.’

‘I’m fine,’ you said, ‘well I’ve got cramps but it’s nothing I’m not used to.’

‘Cramps?’ he asked.

‘Yeah,’ you said.

‘Is there anything I can do?’ he asked.

‘Not really,’ you shrugged, ‘I mean sometimes I have a hot water bottle.’

‘Right,’ Elvis said immediately standing up.

‘E what are you doing?’ you asked.

‘I’ll be right back,’ he said leaning in to press a kiss on your cheek, ‘get on the bed and I’ll be with you in a minute.’

You watched as he dashed out of the room like a man on a mission a smirk on your face. You slipped your shoes off and shimmied onto the bed, eagerly awaiting his return. You could hear him knocking about the house for a while until he finally reappeared at the door with several things in hand though he put them behind his back before you could see what he was holding.

‘What are you doing?’ you giggled.

‘I’m helping,’ he said with a beaming smile.

‘Oh yeah?’

‘Yep,’ he said.

‘And how are you going to do that?’ you mused pushing yourself back towards the headboard until you were sitting up against it.

‘Aspirin,’ he said handing you a little a couple of small white pills which you took from him.

‘No drink?’ you asked though before you could finish your sentence he was offering you a glass of water.

‘Thank you,’ you smirked as you popped the two little tablets into your mouth and swallowed them down.

‘Chocolate,’ he said handing you a little wrapped packet. Ding dongs, your favourite.

‘E,’ you smiled.

‘And finally,’ he said producing a hot water bottle from behind his back. He offered it to you and then gestured for you to lie down as he moved to take his shoes off so he could climb in bed beside you. He came to lie behind you, wrapping his arm around you as you lay in amicable silence for a moment. It was the best you had felt all day. The feeling of him holding you and the warm relief of the hot water bottle at your front was like heaven.

‘Thank you,’ you said after a minute of enjoying the moment.

‘No problem,’ he mumbled quietly, ‘though can I ask you something?’

‘Sure,’ you said puzzled at what he was going through his mind.

‘Next month will you just tell me…if you’re not doing so good,’ he mumbled, ‘cause I didn’t know.’

‘Well it’s not always like this,’ you said.

‘I know…but if it is…you can tell me. You know that right?’ Elvis said.

‘I know,’ you said with a smile.

‘And I hate fightin’ with you,’ he mumbled.

‘Well that’s something both of us can agree on,’ you said.

‘And..’ he said kissing the piece of exposed skin on your shoulder.

‘And?’ you asked, able to feel his smirk against your skin.

‘This ain’t half bad either.’

#my writing #elvis #elvis presley #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis presley fic #elvis fic #helping #requested #requested fic

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eufezco · 2 years

Text

REUNION – E.M. x FEM!READER

This is because I saw that photo of Joseph wearing the Hellfire t-shirt without Eddie's wig and I thought about adult Eddie Munson and agh 😵‍💫 I'll be writing a part 2 and probably 3 so if you wanna be tagged please let me know (part 2 is gonna imply smut) ❣️

english isn't my first language

masterlist

You arrived at Hawkins a month before the reunion. You bought a house in the midwestern town a couple of years ago, when you started making real money out of your artworks. You thought it would be a good idea to have a second home in some remote location and what better place for that than your home town. The house was big, probably bigger than you needed it to be and it was decorated with some of your pieces of art, trusting that the solitude of Hawkins would keep your works safe. Plus, the house was located really close to your parents', who after the earthquake and everything that happened after that never really left Hawkins but strongly encouraged you to leave as far away as you could. Your parents could see your house from theirs, and they could tell if an intruder had broken into it looking for your worldwide coveted artworks. Also, after your horrendous break-up a couple of months ago, they wanted to have you around. But at some point you would have to get your life back, you couldn't let this hold you back for the rest of your days.

Your friend Nancy had been planning this reunion for months now, it was her idea to get the crew back together after more than ten years, and after most of you had followed different paths. The chosen place for the reunion was her own house, the Byers’ house. Nancy and Jonathan married not so long ago yet it seemed like they had been married since the first day they started dating. Nancy and Jonathan worked together at the biggest newspaper in the entire state of Indiana. She, as the ambitious and perfectionist teen she used to be, ended up as the newspaper director and editor, Jonathan was the main photographer and subdirector of it. They had covered every one of your exhibitions in their newspaper and you couldn't be more thankful to them because they have always had nice words for you and your art. Out of everyone in the group, they were the only ones remaining in Hawkins and you weren't quite sure if they actually lived here, but you knew that they did spend a lot of time in Hawkins because Joyce and Hopper wanted them close to help them with the first years as a married couple and during Nancy's pregnancy.

Joyce and Hopper also got married, which could not make you any happier after all they had been through. They also had a house in Hawkins but you were sure that they spent most of the year in Lenora because Hopper was surprisingly tanned when you saw him in the supermarket, and thanks to El and Mike being in college, they made the right decision moving to a better place.

Will told you that Mike and El went to the same college, along with Dustin and Suzie. By this time, you assumed they should be finishing their degrees or already applying for jobs. Mike studied psychology, El decided to study biology, and Dustin, of course, chose physics. And as far as Will told you and by his facial expression when he did, El and Mike were still dating. Dustin and Suzie did too. They both were studying physics which was great because they could spend more time together. How cute, you thought when Will told you.

Will was happy. Well, most of the time. He was happy when he was around you or when he wasn't having an existential crisis which made him paint more and somehow create better works. He also was happy when he was around that cute boy he claimed to only be friends with. Liar, you thought. You basically addopted him after he was accepted into one of the most ambitious art colleges. Well, of course you didn't adopt him in the literal sense of the word, but it was almost as if you did. He was your pupil, you helped him with his college work, teaching him new techniques, different points of view of one piece of art, new ways of processing colors... He accompanied you to your exhibitions, posing with you for the newspapers and magazines, and always giving him a space in your galleries for his works so people could admire his art and Will could start gaining some recognition, not only as your protegé. Will lived with you and your fiancé. Well, now it was only you and Will, but your fiancé used to adore him. He used to say that Will would be the one to continue your artistic legacy which was a strong relief because you knew he was talented as fuck.

Lucas and Erica Sinclair attended one of your biggest exhibitions in New York and that was the last time you saw them. Lucas got a scholarship to play basketball and quickly became one of the most promising basketball players of all time and Erica was nothing less than his trainer. They both built prestigious careers on their own and now every elite athlete wanted to train with Erica Sinclair, and every brave-enough-basketball player wanted to play against Lucas Sinclair.

Steve went to college as his father had always wanted him to and yet Mr. Harrington wasn't happy with Steve. He didn't pick business nor law as his father wanted. Instead, Steve studied education. Deep down he always knew that he had to do something related to kids. He never stopped working hard and started saving money to leave his parent's house. Robin wanted the same for her so they moved in together when they got the money. You went to visit them a couple of times, getting drunk with cheap alcohol and talking all night about stupidities. That was probably when you saw them for the last time. Robin took a fashion design course and Steve worked in a kindergarten. Steve met a cute girl who was a single mom and with whom he fell in love immediately. Her daughter adored teacher Steve. They always spent at least a quarter of an hour after the classes finished and all the parents were finally gone talking about the little girl that bonded them, the little girl not wanting to leave Steve's side until her mom said it was time to go home. They eventually moved in together and now they had a beautiful daughter and were expecting another one. Next to Steve's kindergarten was Robin's boutique. She lived with her friend, a girl that she met in the fashion course and with whom she seemed to be very close friends with.

You were the happiest knowing that your friends were living a good life.

You arrived late to the reunion. Everyone was already there, well, at least you thought everyone was already there when you and Will got to Nancy and Jonathan's house. Your face was decorated with a big and bright smile after seeing all your friends reunited again. You started by hugging the two hosts, noticing how Nancy's belly was getting bigger. You asked her to remind you how far along she was and she let you touch her belly to feel the baby kicking. Cute, but not for me, you thought. Then, you hugged everyone else, a wave of memories taking over you every time someone wrapped their arms around you. Being all together again was like when you go on a trip for a really long time and then you come back home to find your comfy bed and not just some random matress in some hotel. It was a hot coffee on a winter day, it was walking in the rain, enjoying the raindrops but not getting wet thanks to an umbrella, it was spending Christmas at home and it was waking up in the morning because of the sunbeams.

Will went to talk to Mike, El, Dustin, Lucas, and Erica who were enjoying Nancy and Jonathan's expensive wine while sitting and laughing on the living room couches. Seeing them with glasses of wine was the most shocking thing ever, they were still kids for you. You were talking with Robin and Steve. Both of them seemed very happy. Steve pulled from his wallet a picture of his little girl, showing it to you like the proud dad he was. The baby was chubby and her hair was tied in two pigtails, a big smile on her little face. You were about to compliment the baby when someone knocked on the door of the house, were you expecting anyone else? Maybe it was Joyce and Hopper who decided to join, maybe it was–

"No way." Dustin said, standing up from the couch and raising his hands to his head. Lucas and Mike let out a surprised chuckle, also standing up from the sofa. You looked at the door, where everyone's eyes were focusing after Jonathan opened it. Your eyes opened wide, your mouth dropped, and your glass of wine almost fell from your hands when you saw Eddie Munson entering the house followed by Max Mayfield. Everyone approached them and hugged them, you just stood there, waiting for everybody to get out of your way so you could wrap your arms around the rockstar. Before you could, he approached you, his big arms opened and a bright smile on his face as he walked towards you. You smiled at him and you left your glass on the living room table so you could hug him properly. His cologne was intoxicating and his hand rubbing your back gave you goosebumps.

Eddie Munson was the guitarist of Corroded Coffin. Yes, that small band that used to play in Gareth's garage was now worldwide famous. Tours, interviews, photoshoots, fame, concerts, recognition, fans, money... Eddie Munson had everything he once dreamed of. And so did Max. Even though it was a metal band, they still needed a lyricist and a manager and Max Mayfield was the best at her job. You had followed their music career, you had seen them on the cover of the Rolling Stones magazine on many occasions. They reminded you of you and Will, Eddie had Max under his wing. You went to hug the redhead girl and she hugged you back tightly, so happy to see you again.

Will and Max sat together during dinner, throwing glances at you and Eddie who were sitting in front of each other at the big table. Your eyes and Eddie's couldn't help but look at each other every five seconds. If he was handsome when he was a teenager, now he was even more handsome as a grown man. He let his beard grow enough to make it sexy and not to make him look older. His hair was shorter but his curls remained there as well as his rosy lips, just as you remembered them. Eddie took his time to check you out as well. You had become a grown, independent, and beautiful woman. He had followed your artistic career too, how could he not? You were the most successful out of them all. Not the basketball player, not him, not the lyricist but you. Everyone talked about your paintings although now you were on the cover of every gossip magazine. Yes, he knew about that too.

You noticed that your glances with Eddie weren't the only tense ones, everyone could feel the tension in Max and Lucas' eyes staring into each other and you thanked it was bigger and stronger than yours and Eddie's so you both could go unnoticed. The rest of the people at the table talked but you only could pay attention to Eddie chuckling after looking at his redhead friend sitting by his side. Her cheeks were red and her eyes were now focused on the food in front of her as she nudged Eddie. If someone had told Max before she arrived that tables would turn this way...

Eddie ran his fingers through his hair before lighting a cigarette. He had to park a few blocks before getting to the Byers' house, and now they had to walk to the house. Max followed him, her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket.

"You know that she will be there, don't you?"

Eddie hummed, taking a long drag of the cigarette. "And you know he will be there, don't you?" He asked back to his friend. Max rolled her eyes. Lucas was water under the bridge to her. Eddie didn't believe so. He had seen the lyrics she doesn't show to anybody and those words were not written by someone who has gotten over her ex.

"You're single now." Max pointed out. Eddie nodded his head, letting the cigarette smoke out of his mouth. He was single now, but even when he was married, Max's songs about first loves and how you never really get over that first person hit too close to home.

During dessert, everyone talked about how their lives were and some cute and funny memories were brought to the conversation by Dustin and Will. You all laughed remembering all the things you did when you were teenagers and used to live in the same town; from falling in love to fighting demons and emerging victorious in the process. When Jonathan and Steve started pouring the drinks, everyone's bodies started to heat up. Eddie took off the blazer he was wearing, revealing the tattoos on his arms and the veins running down them until they found his hands, which you noticed were decorated with big silver rings. All of you got up from the table when you were done. Jonathan put a vinyl on the turntable when you moved to the living room, everyone kept talking but you decided to turn your back to them and stare into the painting on the wall, taking short sips out of your glass of wine.

"Is it yours?"

He stood behind you. Maybe closer than he should be because you could feel the warmth of his body against yours. You nodded to his question, pressing your lips together, you weren't quite proud of this one for some reason. "It's good." Eddie confessed. You turned to look at him with your eyebrows raised.

"Since when Eddie Munson knows about art?"

He chuckled. Suddenly he seemed to be closer than before. "Since never. But he knows a pretty thing when he sees one." Your cheeks and ears warmed up as you took another sip out of your glass and he did as well, after subtly looking up and down on you with suspicious smile on his lips

"How was your breakup?" A playful and devilish grin appeared on his lips after asking. You rolled your eyes but decied to attack back.

"How was your divorce?"

He laughed while bowing his head. "Touché."

His engagement appeared everywhere and also did when not even a year after the couple decided to split up. Eddie and you talked long enough during the night about nonsenses that really helped you escape that awful topic that had been haunting you everywhere for the last months. He was the only person that could joke about your breakup and yet you would know that he cared about how you felt about it. You didn't want to talk about it anymore, people had talked about it enough for you, making up the most random assumptions and spreading false rumors about why you had broken up months before you walked down the aisle. But, luckily Eddie asked you about a lot of other things, probably knowing that you didn't want to talk about that and he also talked to you about what future plans and projects him and Max had.

Mike approached you both, interrupting a sweet conversation you were having about how you two should see each other as much as you used to do. "Nancy is too tired already so we're heading to my parent's basement. You know, relieve old times. Are you two coming?"

You looked at each other and Eddie took one last sip out of his glass. "Yeah, sure." He answered for both of you. Mike nodded, and walked away.

"Actually, we could go to my place instead." You suggested, the words came out of your mouth before your brain could process them. The man who was ready to join the rest turned to you, his eyebrows raised, surprised by your offer.

"You have a house here? In Hawkins?"

You nodded to his question.

"And you wanna show it to me?" Eddie took a few steps toward you, a playful smile on his lips and his body almost towering over yours. He had always known how nervous that made you. It did back in high school and it still did now more than ten years later. Him being taller than you and having to look down to stare into your eyes, his tongue getting his lips wet, his hot body that close to yours... He was so close that you could see through the thin silky fabric of his shirt the tattoos decorating his chest. You shook your head, emerging from the trance in which his scent held you, you rolled your eyes and smacked his shoulder. Eddie laughed and separated from you. He didn't ask questions like why were you only inviting him nor why the color of your irises had disappeared thanks to how big your pupils were because probably the same thing had happened to his eyes. Your eyelashes fluttered slowly as you waited for his answer.

#stranger things #stranger things fluff #stranger things angst #stranger things smut #stranger things imagine #stranger things x fem!reader #stranger things scenarios #stranger things headcanons #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson scenarios

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honey-boyyoongi · 11 months

Text

Reader x Yoongi | Part 56//??

Word count ➪ 3.2k

Summary ➪ Min Yoongi, is a simple man. He likes his coffee black and iced, he enjoys his job, and he loves his baby girl. But what happens when the new neighbor, quite literally, drops into his life?

Warnings ➪ any typos are mine; angst lol; some cursing; mentions of abortion; mentions of self neglect during pregnancy; description of an anxiety attack; its established that Minji is like mentally ill; slight sexual description; if you’re name is crossed out it’s because I couldn’t tag you;

A/n: Hey guys! Uh just a quick warning if y'all hated Minji before.... well yall are gonna hate her now. Feedback is appreciated, and if you would like to be added to the taglist please let me know. 💕

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Yoongi sat across Minji in silence. They had exchanged mild pleasantries when she had arrived at the cafe. It was a small, cozy establishment; in normal circumstances he would’ve been excited at the prospect of bringing Hani here. He didn’t know what to say, or how to feel, except for anger and resentment. He remembered telling Jin so, while he got ready.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“I’m sure,” Yoongi nodded.

Jin nodded back in acknowledgement, “Okay then, remember Jimin will be in the back the entire time. Do you remember your safeword?”

Yoongi sighed heavily, “Pineapple..”

Seokjin grinned at his friend, “Good. Remember, be nice.”

Yoongi scowled, “I am being nice, she’s the one making demands after being gone for half a decade.”

Jin walked up to his old friend, fixing the non-existent flaws in Yoongi’s clothes, “You don’t have to do this, you know. She signed away her rights, you can keep her away from Hani.”

“I know..just..,” he sighed, “I need to know why she’s coming back now.”

“Will that help you move on,” Jin asked.

“I don’t know,” Yoongi answered.

They watched as Jungkook came into Yoongi’s bedroom, looking as disheveled as Yoongi felt “Okay, the kids are still at the park with ___, she said they’ll be getting food on the way home. Also, Jimin texted me, "the cafe is closed, be there in 15 minutes”, and to text him when you get there.”

Yoongi nodded, he lightly sniffled, feeling overwhelmed. He almost wished he was cowardly enough to stay. “I wish the first time going to Min’s place wasn’t.. this... I had hoped to bring Hani, to show her the pretty snacks and the pretty drinks..” Seokjin pulled Yoongi into a not so tight hug, he didn’t want to wrinkle his clothes, shushing him. “It’s okay, on another day we’ll take the kids, Gigi’s kids included, all of us will go out. It’ll be fun and you can make memories with Hani, okay?”

“Okay.”

Yoongi watched as Jimin placed their food in front of them; he’d gotten his trusty iced americano, while Minji opted for an iced chai. Jimin flashed Yoongi a quick smile, calming his wired nerves.

Minji cleared her throat to bring his attention back to her, “Is he a friend of yours?”

Yoongi nodded slightly, “He is.” Minji gave him a look, as if egging him on. “He’s Jin’s little cousin’s business partner. We helped them out when they first started the process of building their cafe. I asked Tae for a favor, and they said yes. I’ve known Min for as long as I’ve known Tae.”

Minji had no response, she continued to drink her iced chai in silence. She avoided making eye contact with him, and it bothered the ever living fuck out of Yoongi. He felt angry that Minji had the gall to demand his daughter over the phone, but refused to talk to him face to face. He had decided on the drive over that he would not be the one to bring up her absence. Yoongi wanted her to explain; why was she back? Her ongoing silence was making his patience wear thin, and it caused him to remember the last fight they’d had.

Minji had been avoiding Yoongi; it had been 2 weeks since he’d told Minji he loved her. She had freaked out, stuttering out to Yoongi that she had to go. Yoongi had given her the weekend to breathe, he understood if she couldn’t say it back, not everyone felt romantic feelings the same. On Monday he texted Minji a message asking how she was feeling, and that it was okay if she didn’t reciprocate. By Thursday he was worried as she didn’t answer Yoongi’s calsl. On Sunday he messaged Mina asking if Minji was still even breathing.

Mina apologized on her behalf. Minji had gone home to her parents, she said, as she had ‘obligations’. Minji wasn’t answering her calls, or texts as well. By day 12, Yoongi was worried, he’d sent a final text to Minji asking her to please take care of herself, and at the very least let Mina know she was okay. Hours later he got a very excited voice message from Mina updating him that Minji sent her an emoji.

Two weeks to the day, Minji showed up on his doorstep. She looked relatively unharmed, except for the dark undereye circles from the possible lack of sleep. She walked in, silent. Yoongi asked her where she was, why didn’t she answer his texts or calls, was she okay? Minji didn’t answer any of his questions. They stood in silence. After a few moments Yoongi was begging Minji to please speak with him. She remained quiet. Yoongi went to his room, throwing whatever item was closest to him. He cried out in frustration wondering why they had gone back to square one. Had he not tried enough? Was he not trustworthy? Was it always going to be this way?

Minji entered his room, still wearing a blank look on her face. She kneeled in between his legs, looking down at his hands. Minji took them into hers, pulling him into an embrace. She kissed Yoongi’s knuckles and worked her way up his forearm and chest. She kept kissing up to his collarbone and neck, up until she met his lips. He sobbed into the kiss, relieved that Minji was finally responding to him. The kisses become more hurried, bordering on aggressive. Yoongi felt desperate and it showed. Clothes were tugged, and readjusted, until they were gone entirely.

The next morning Yoongi asked Minji the same questions, but she continued to have no answers. He then asked why she ran away two weeks ago, she still refused to answer. Yoongi begged her to please say something, anything. Minji stared at him, “What do you want me to say?”

He scoffed with indignation, he couldn’t believe it. “You ghosted Mina, and I. We would’ve filed a missing person’s report if it wasn’t for you telling her you had a family emergency. We were scared, Minji, I was scared, and all you can say is, ‘what do you want me to say’?”

“I don’t know, what do you want me to say,” she repeated.

“Of course you don’t know,” he murmured exasperated.

They spent hours talking in circles. By the end they had both raised their voices at each other, fighting and failing at getting their points across. In those moments, Yoongi realized he would never get anywhere with Minji. He was tired of arguing, tired of having to hunt Minji down when she isolated herself, tired of the shallowness of it all. “You know what, I don’t want to do this anymore,” he blurted out.

Minji gaped at him wide eyed. “I’m done,” Yoongi said. “I’m tired of fighting for the bare minimum Minj.” Even their breakup was unchallenged.

Minji agreed to the breakup. She dressed herself in the clothes she arrived in, packing up any small toiletries she’d left behind at Yoongi’s during her sleepovers.

In the end, she was gone in less than 10 minutes.

Minji cleared her throat once again, taking another big sip of her iced chai. “What exactly do we need to talk about,” she asked. “I want to see her, is that not enough?” Yoongi heard a small, ‘oh hell’, from the kitchen. Jin must’ve given Jimin the rundown.

“Well for one, hey how are you? I’m fine, thank you for asking,” Yoongi responded sarcastically. “I haven’t heard from you in 4 years, you could start by telling me, why? Why now?”

Minji sighed, “I know that it’s sudden, but.. It’s just that lately I’ve been thinking about things. My dad passed away two months ago, and my mom is god knows where. ‘Just turned 30, I kept thinking about my life in the past decade. I have a lot of regrets, and I was doubting myself. Was it the right decision, you know, having her. Was I right to keep away from her? A few months ago, Jungkook came up on my instagram explore page. It was a picture of him at the amusement park with Seokjin. I got curious so I clicked on his page.” She readjusted herself, leaning into the right handle of the sofa chair. “He’d grown up so much, and after scrolling through pictures of Seokjin and his son, and his friends, I saw you. I saw you with our daughter. You both looked so happy, playing with your friends, living your life freely. I wanted that. I wondered if we could be happy like that.”

Yoongi laughed in astonishment, he ran his tongue along the side of cheek, trying to stop himself from saying anything he’d regret. “That doesn’t answer my question; why now Minji? Why are you demanding to be a parent, when you never wanted to be one? The whole reason we’re like this is because you chose not to be in her life.”

Minji rebutted, “I did want to be a parent.”

“When,” Yoongi cried out incredulously. “You were going to abort, but couldn’t because you were too far along. I had to force you to leave your bed, wash your hair. My mom fed you, clothed you, made sure you drank water because you were essentially comatose. I’m still surprised you only had mild anemia from the lack of care you had for yourself.” He took a quick sip of his coffee to pace himself. Minji was starting to get agitated, but he could care less at this point. “It took me weeks to convince you to allow me sole custody of my daughter. For fucks sake, you drafted up the paperwork to terminate your rights, you had already signed them when it was sent to my lawyer for me to sign. I did everything possible to make sure you didn’t struggle, Minj.”

The distinct sound of plastic syrup bottles clinking and a responding ‘Ah fuck,’ cut Yoongi’s rant short. He called out to Jimin asking if he was okay, Jimin quickly responded with a firm ‘I’m good’. Minji slightly scoffed towards him, “Are you blaming me for all of this? I tried to be responsible, okay. You wouldn’t have understood how I felt if I told you.”

Yoongi could feel his eyes twitch in frustration. “Then tell me, I might’ve not fully understood, but at least I would’ve been there to support you.” He cradled his face in his hands, breathing slowly to put himself back together. “What do you want Minji? You didn’t want to be a mom, I understood, I supported you, and now you’re coming back demanding my daughter, my baby. Have you thought about how this is going to affect her? She doesn’t know you. Do you expect her to just accept you?”

Minji’s face was indiscernible, she looked to the side, as if organizing her thoughts. She turned back towards Yoongi, “Seeing as I am her mother, as long as she knows that she’ll be fine. Plus if I need help, mom can help me.”

He couldn’t believe it, “She’s not a puppy Minj, she needs to get to know you. Even I, being her father, have my moments with her. And what do you mean mom will help you? Are you talking about my mom? Have you been in contact with her?”

Minji readjusted herself, she was starting to become visibly uncomfortable. “I have. It’ll be a learning curve, but she’s willing to aid me in what I need.”

Yoongi had to calm himself down, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. “Are you trying to take my daughter away from me Minji? Is that it?” It was suddenly difficult to breathe, Yoongi was trying to catch his already quickening breath. He couldn’t focus on himself, all he could think about was Hani. “Min, Jimin,” he blurted out. Jimin ran from behind the counter, sliding, quite literally, in front of Yoongi.

Jimin pulled him to the side, away from Minji’s view. He guided Yoongi through his breathing exercises. “Yoon, you don’t have to do this. We can leave,” he whispered. Yoongi knew he was cracking at the seams. He couldn’t believe it. He shook his head, “No, Min I have to talk to her. I can’t.. I can’t let her take my baby Min, she’s all I have.” Jimin reluctantly allowed Yoongi to continue.

Yoongi took in a big breath, barely collecting himself to avoid crying in anger. As he sat back in his spot he could see a flicker of the Minji he knew. She was tucked into herself and unsure. She looked at him with those big eyes that once used to hold stars, and now he couldn’t make out what they held. “Are you okay,” she whispered. Those three words were what broke the dam. Yoongi let out the tears that he’d been holding back ever since he woke up to Minji’s texts. He cried and cried, and wondered when he’d ever stop. He kept thinking why wasn’t he enough.

Jimin walked over, handing him a tissue box and a reassuring pat on the shoulder. He whispered a small, ‘You can do this Yoon.’ It might’ve not been much, but it was the boost Yoongi needed. He collected himself once again, making sure to wipe any remnant of his small breakdown.

“Minj, please for once, be straightforward with me. What do you want? What are you looking for? Whatever it is, my daughter isn’t your bandaid to fix it. She’s a living, breathing human being, with feelings. Just because she’s a toddler, doesn’t mean she’s not complex. She’s observant and blunt, and will out right refuse to acknowledge you if she feels off about someone, “ he says desperately. “If you’ve been in contact with my mom, why didn’t you contact me? If you wanted to be a part of her life, I wouldn’t have stopped you if you tried Minji. But nothing you’re doing now is showing me that you’ve changed. You’re still that scared young girl that I could never reach. For fuck sakes you still refuse to answer me and communicate, and you can’t be that way when kids are involved. So please, show me you’re responsible. Be direct with me.”

She looked at him with a pained look, sniffling repeatedly to keep herself calm. “I don’t know what you want me to say,” Minji responded quietly.

Yoongi groaned loudly, “God, Minji, please don’t do this. Talk to me. I’m trying to meet you halfway, make the same effort to meet me, please.”

Minji wouldn’t speak, she started hiccupping under her breath. The last thing Yoongi wanted was for her to start crying. “I’m sorry Yoongi, I don’t know what to say.”

Yoongi rose from his seat, extremely frustrated. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take. It was too much for him. Nothing made sense. Could Minji and his mother be working together to take Haneul from him? Have they been in contact for a long time? Who reached out first? Worst of all, how could his mother do this? He wondered if his dad knew, and why he hadn’t reached out to inform him if he did? Why was this happening? He just wanted to live his life with his daughter, and his friends peacefully. How was Hani going to feel having a stranger pushed onto her? Would they try to take his daughter away from him? He didn’t want to be here anymore. He wanted to be home with his daughter.

He picked up his coffee, lifting his hand signaling Jimin that they were leaving. “We’re not getting anywhere, so I’m leaving. I’m not going to talk in circles.” He took in a deep breath in an attempt to ease the weight on his chest.

Minji slightly scrambles out of her seat. She looked at him like she wanted to speak out, her face crumbling, she looked guilty almost. She grabbed her purse and drink, following Jimin and Yoongi towards the exit. She doesn’t leave immediately, watching as Jimin double checks that all the entrances were locked. She approaches Yoongi slightly, they look at each neither sure if they should say their goodbyes. For a moment Minji seemed to have worked up the courage to speak, but she quickly squashed it and sped off to what he assumed was her rental. Yoongi watches as she speeds away, a little reckless at that. He keeps watching until the car is no longer visible, and the weight on his shoulders is partially lifted.

Yoongi cried the entire way home. He asked Jimin to check if Hani was asleep or at least with ___, he didn’t want to scare her with how disheveled he was. ___ offered to keep the kids in her apartment for him to cool down. While he appreciated it, all he wanted was to hold his daughter.

He thanked his friends for looking after Haneul while he dealt with his current trainwreck. Hani snuggled into his hair, trying to find comfort in his smell. ___ had given Hani her nighttime bath, so it was one less thing Yoongi had to do tonight. He got out of the clothes he saw Minji, cleaned himself up, and got ready for bed. He made Hani a warm cup of milk, and prepped the right side of his bed for her to sleep in. He sprayed down her favorite lavender sleep spray, and turned on the soft star night light she loved. He read her a story, and played with her hair until she fell asleep. Yoongi cradled his daughter in his arms, and he thought back to the early days of her being a newborn.

In the midst of his insomnia, Yoongi remembered how terrified he was to be parenting alone, and would overthink every decision. He remembered how little he slept, and how often the doula would urge him to sleep, even if it was a small power nap. But between all that, the time he remembers most fondly is one of Hani’s worst colicky nights. The formula had been causing his newborn baby to build up gas, while his pediatrician changed the formula to something for sensitive stomachs, she was still colicky. He’d tried everything possible, but it just wouldn’t work. Until, one afternoon while giving Hani a little stretch recommended by the doula, she’d let out the gas that had been making her upset. Her little sigh of relief was music to Yoongi’s ears, and he almost cried texting Eunha the news. It was one of the first nights Yoongi was able to sleep more than 3 hours with Hani. He remembered thinking that all those sleepless nights had been worth it to comfort his daughter, and how he would’ve done it again.

Currently he looked down at Haneul, and saw how much she was growing up. She was no longer his baby, but a toddler. She no longer needed to cling to him, but chose to do so. She had opinions and had no qualms of letting them be known. She was bright, bubbly, and so creative. His daughter was his heart, and he had no idea why they wanted to take her away.

Tag List: @unicornbabylover @halesandy @supernoonanyc @aianloveseven @hannahdinse8 @lyndseygoregasmxo @aunoiire @brbkpop @nochuwastaken @tinyoonsblog @borahae-reads @jinscharms @phenomenalgirl9 @yoongiigolden @girlwithluv0613 @yaboiithewreck @mint--yoongs @ysljoon @hyunjingin @yu-justme @damn-u-min-yoongi @lovelytaes-blog @so-da-1 @cruelsummer-s @seolaquotes @lovelgirl22 @dreamamubarak @leanimal90 @atinymonbebestay @astudyoftimeywimeystuff @jaiuneamesolitaiire @proudbtsstanfightmebeach @bookoffracturedescapes @fairywriter-oracle

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ladylooch · 2 months

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I know Lexi is American, do we know where her family are located?

Maybe when the devils are on a long road trip Lexi suprises him when they visit her hometown. All three of their girls are ready by the glass for warm-ups and Nico's heart stops seeing them all there.

Thats night is also a treat as her parents look after the girls so nasty Nico can visit 🔥😂💕

NASTY NICO CAN VISIT!!!!! NONNIE!!!! HAHAHAHA! We fucking love that. literally.

Lexi is from the Midwest- Northern Missouri is specifically coming to mind for me. Her hometown is a few hours from where David's family farm is in Iowa. However, Lexi's parents divorced when she was younger and have since moved on to different places. Her dad lives in Tampa, Florida and her mom lives in San Diego, California. They needed an entire country separating them once Lexi turned 18 ( she is an only child).

Lexi and her mom have a very up and down relationship. So, she is hesitant about bringing the girls to California without Nico as a buffer. She does bring them to Tampa to see her dad though!

All week, Lexi has been giddy, imaging this moment every time she closed her eyes to go to sleep. It is practically impossible to surprise Nico Hischier, but as the Devils come rushing out at Amalie Arena, she is confident she pulled it off.

"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" Lucie screams as he does his first pass. His eyes are focused on a puck, so he doesn't see them. Lexi watches him work that gum, tongue blowing it out into a tiny bubble. She shivers. The Devils have an off day tomorrow and are sticking around the Tampa area before traveling to Sunrise. Nico is getting a green light and although he doesn't know yet, she knows exactly how he is gonna spend that time.

"He didn't see!" Mack whines, tugging at Lexi's jacket sleeve.

"Pat the glass this time." Lexi suggests.

They do, but that still doesn't work. Uncle Timo comes trolling around the rink, then grins when he sees the Hischier girls. He taps his stick against the glass on their little faces, chuckling as Mack startles.

“Hey!” Mack growls, baring her teeth. Timo does the same back to her and they have a little stand off that finally captures Nico’s attention. From across the ice, Lexi watches the recognition and beaming smile flood his face. He gets up from his one knee stretch and glides across the fresh ice, twirling his stick as he does.

“Daddy!!” The girls all squeal together. Lexi laughs, appreciating the utter joy on Nico’s face as he takes in all his favorite people right in front of him.

“Surprise.” Lexi mouths. He sighs hugely, then gives her an appreciative pout.

Three pucks go over the glass for each one of the girls between Uncle T and Daddy. Nico signals to Lucie to walk down to the camera hole a few feet away and gives her fist bumps.

“Just like home, huh?” He asks her. Lucie laughs and waves as he takes off to join his team drills.

The Devils win, barely squeaking through to avoid extra time. The post-game hugs with the girls are massive. Nico wraps all of them up right, squeezing until they squeal and giggle and give him the 13 kisses he demands as payment. Then, he stands, working his way around three little girls to get to his gorgeous wife.

“Thank you. This was a great surprise, babe.” He places his lips against hers, running his tongue along her bottom lip. Lexi leans into his chest. Nico’s hand on her lower back presses her in closer. Her fingers weave into his long locks as the whole world disappears except for them.

“Tell me your dad is taking our kids.” He mumbles quietly against her mouth.

“Mhm.”

“The things I’m gonna do to you….” He trails off then pulls away like he didn’t just soak her panties straight through. He keeps his hand on her lower back as he shakes her dad’s hand.

Lexi’s eyes widen, intrigued by his confident, easy demeanor.

This conversation wouldn’t be so friendly if her dad knew what Nasty Nico is going to do to her later.

#what my world spins around au

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wyntereyez · 18 days

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I think this is the last scream into the void before I have a post about myself. Part Five is about my siblings. Well, mostly my sister, the golden child.

I actually don't have much to say about my siblings. I love them, I sometimes want to kill them, and for the most part, we get along.

Even my half siblings, who I actually don't refer to as my half siblings but have only been doing so for the sake of making it easier to differentiate them here without using names. It wasn't always like that. I was jealous of them for getting the attention I wasn't, and I mostly ignored them, but sometime was cruel (not horribly cruel, but I wasn't nice.) Thankfully, I got over that before they were old enough to notice, and we get along really well.

I also have surprisingly few problems with my brother. You'd think my Dad's only son would get more privileges than anyone else, and sometimes it felt like it, but those privileges weren't favoritism. For example, I had my own room, and my brother and sister shared one. Eventually, my sister was moved into my room, which I hated. But I get it. Hell, I even know that it's a CPS offense to have a boy and girl sharing a room after a certain age. I wasn't happy, but I got it. And when my brother started getting the front seat of the Chevy S-10 and I was stuck in the back...well, he's 6'. He literally could not fit. Again, I get it, and the problem was eventually solved with new vehicles, but it still sucked. About the only problem I've truly had with my brother was when we had an apartment together and he had trouble taking turns doing dishes. I blame this on my Dad; my brother wasn't used to actually doing dishes because I was always doing them.

And then there's my sister.

She was four when my parents divorced. Because she'd had so little time with our mother, she seemed to adapt the easiest. Also, she was a Daddy's Girl, so she was fine because she had her favorite parent.

Unfortunately, because my Dad wanted to minimize her trauma, she was spoiled. She got the most presents, she got to do the most school activities, she didn't have to do chores until much, much later... When we had our Evil Step Monster, I think she handled it better because she didn't grow up being constantly yelled at, and wasn't afraid to be stubborn.

She never got grounded for standing up to That Woman.

And unfortunately, she still expects people to just do things for her, while not being so good about reciprocating. Things include:

One Christmas, she nagged and nagged and nagged at me to buy her a certain expensive present that she needed now, rather than wait until my next paycheck. She assured me she'd get me a present in return. She didn't.

She wouldn't let me in the bedroom when I was visiting from college. I had no bedroom in the house since they'd basically moved me out entirely when I went to stay on campus. Which meant that I was basically limited to the living room, kitchen, and bathroom during my home visits. I had no place to hide from That Woman.

When my sister got married, she called me to ask if I had money for 'the dress.' I had no clue WTF she was talking about, and when I asked, she said, "Well, you're gonna be a bridesmaid, you know." No, actually, I didn't. Because you didn't ask me.

Like my Dad, she expected me to drop everything and come watch her house and dogs whenever she and her husband went somewhere. She made it sound like she was the one doing me a favor by letting me watch Netflix. A couple of times, I was working somewhere an hour and a half drive's away. She still expected me to watch the dogs with zero compensation despite the long drive.

She completely ignores my issues. I mentioned once that was looking for a new job because I'd had an anxiety attack working retail. She immediately tried to get me to apply for a job that required me to sit at a desk and talk to people all day, a job that would cause major anxiety issues. When I told her no, she got annoyed because she was 'just trying to help.'

She's very protective of our Dad. From things she says, she seems to have this impression that I'm the spoiled one that got everything I ever wanted and whenever I asked for help, I was using him. Yeah, that's not how I remember it.

Her help is very conditional. Remember the fiasco with my brother's wedding? Where I didn't have a lot of cash, and she assured me she'd help, and even picked out a flight that fit her schedule for pick-up and drop-off. It was at an airport an hour away, rather than the much closer one I'd originally planned to fly into, and she was the only one who'd be able to get me. I doublechecked with her before buying the ticket. And then she started changing things on me, telling me she couldn't drive me to the wedding we were both going to, telling me she might not be able to drop me off at the airport, telling me that actually, no, I couldn't stay with her after all and I needed to find a hotel in three days or she definitely wouldn't pick me up and drop me off. This is why I canceled. Even my Dad was pissed at her for this.

She's also very controlling. Last year, I had been considering going to California for fun. My sister immediately said I should come visit instead. It would be cheaper! You know, spend my money to go back to the place I escaped from, where I didn't have fun. And I'd have to stay at a hotel. Preferably one with a pool, so she could bring her boys to swim! So this 'cheaper' vacation would have been me in a hotel in an area with very little to do, waiting for her to visit on her own time, probably renting a car because that would be the ONLY way to get anywhere. And even then, there's nothing in that area I haven't seen a million times, so leaving the hotel wouldn't even be worth it.

Ahem, anyway... Being far away from family is very good for me.

#wyntereyez: personal #wyntereyez screams into the void

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kranagok0 · 2 months

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Hilda Orohan AU

I keep having crazy and good ideas for many types of stories regarding what could have been in the characters' lives if they had had certain things or if they hadn't had them.

An example of this would be: What would Hilda be like if she were an orphan?

I mean, she knows who her mother is and everything, however, she believes that Johana died due to certain events that I still cannot fully plan. Johana also believes that Hilda died in said incident so they are almost in the same emotional condition (that is, very bad).

The case here is that Hilda (approximately 5 or 7 years old), thinking that her mother is no longer alive, decides to go live in the forest. For a time she manages to survive with the help of Twig, who teaches her in her own way which things are edible and which others are not (it is more difficult for Hilda to find food since she does not eat meat).

Johana would go into a horrible depression. He would not know what to do, he would not be able to think clearly and he would become desperate because he could not save his daughter. The trauma is so great that Johana decides to return to Tofoten and stay with Astrid (possibly her only emotional support).

Anders…. Well, that would be a pretty heartbreaking situation. At first I would be grieving, I would deny that this happened and I would immediately go to confirm if that information was true or not. On her way back home she would be going through all the stages of grief, thinking about thousands of possibilities of how her daughter could be alive and how Johana was just exaggerating everything… All her hopes would be shattered when she saw her home. destroyed, the house was literally just a handful of material turned into ashes and what was not burned was still broken…

~~~~~

When Hilda turned 11 (the age she was, possibly, at the beginning of the series) she arrived at Trollberg (A warm and good place where she could find more food than in the forest). From there he begins to meet all of his friends in unique and different ways (he meets David one night when he was taking out the trash and Frida when she was trying to get a badge for finding strange animals [a certain deer-fox was a perfect fit to meet the requirements ])

Johana would try to move on with her life, little by little. The loss of your only daughter is something very painful and one never knows what the person affected may do in that state of desperation and enormous sadness. (Astrid had to stop Johana from doing something crazy several times during the entire time she lived with her)

Astrid had to take care of Johana from time to time, reminding her that she had to eat and encouraging poor Johana to keep going, since that is what H would have wanted (Astrid does not say Hilda's name since that makes Johana start to feel bad).

Anders, with no one else to turn to or even talk to, does the things that Johana would have done if Astrid had been with her…

At first he thought about moving on, but he couldn't. Not when that same action took him away from his daughter for so many years, so much lost time that he could never get back.

Then he thought about the darkest choice someone could make at their lowest point: suicide. He tried several times but never dared to take the last step. He always tied the rope around his neck and stood on the chair, ready to jump, but he did not take the last step. He attempts to throw himself off a building, only to be left standing on the ledge without moving for hours. He bought a gun and… Well, I think there are enough examples of his failed death attempts. Anders couldn't take his own life… because he was a coward… a scoundrel who only knows how to run away from situations when they get difficult and doesn't have the courage to face it like a man. No, he doesn't have the courage to face it like any father would have done (or at least that's what he called himself) and all this in less than a year.

However, in one of his depressive moments, he remembered something that his grandfather sometimes told him. Those old stories about the dead who came back as ghosts because of things they had pending, and also about a strange strangely shaped stick that called them back to life.

You don't have to be smart to guess that Anders went in search of that artifact. This time his trip would not be an adventure, but a crusade. Going through all kinds of torment and endless dangers just to be able to talk to his daughter one more time (if he could apologize, that would be enough for him). As the years went by, he discovered more things related to the topic of returning people from the dead (invocation of spirits, yore, draugen, everything related to necromancy). Anders began to accumulate all kinds of knowledge, whether it was within his reach or he had to steal it, and he would use it all to put it together and create a new magic: resurrection magic.

Anders was alone and had slowly lost his sanity. He didn't care about anything more than reviving his daughter and seeing her once again (Why see her just once? Why not see her every day again?)

This time Anders would do things right… And no one will be able to stop him…. Or well, almost no one….

And well, this would be the AU… Yes, I know that I made Johana someone depressive and pessimistic but I do think it would be a low blow to lose a family member (especially when it is your own daughter). Could Johanna have done the same as Anders? Definitely. Luckily for Johana, Astrid was with her as emotional support and encouraged her to move forward. Anders was alone, he had no one else and both Astrid and Johana did not want to see him because of what Anders was like. As I said before, Anders did all the crazy things that Johana would have done if she didn't have Astrid to help her.

Hilda explores the city of Trollberg and discovers its mysteries like in the series, only some things will be different… I can't stop thinking about Hilda fighting with the Rat King over a piece of cod sandwich. Or how Hilda no longer fears anything since her mother died (or so she thinks).

Well, I'd also like to know more about what you guys think. Tell me what things you would like to add to this AU, do you think I did well in making Anders a local like Nox (the first villain in the Wakfu series)? Or they think it was good. I would like to know your opinions and data regarding this new AU.

Expect more things this week, because I don't work until next week and I have time. See you later

#hilda #hilda netflix #hilda (netflix)#hilda series #hilda the series #hilda the show #johanna hilda #hilda fanfiction #hilda (hilda)#johanna #anders hilda #hilda anders #hilda au #hilda twig #hilda johanna

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swiftlymoniquesblog · 9 months

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Fandom Leap - Chapter 5

A/N: Hi friends! I am back with a submission to a collab project with @supraveng and other friends! I am so honored to be apart of this story and hearing other people’s writing style has been so fun! I hope my part keeps everyone interested! Readers thoughts are in italics!

Word Count: 2,618

Pairing: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester x Reader (no incest!)

Warnings: love triangle, kissing, fluff, tiny bit of angst

Series Masterlist

Chapter 4

“Before you could respond that feeling came over you again, you hadn’t even had a chance to warn Claire or live in this glamorous life for an entire day before feeling the chill running through you and knowing you weren’t going to be able to get back here anything soon.”

When you wake up again after your jump, your head hurts worse than it ever had before. You try standing up but feeling dizzy and decide to just stay on the ground until you get your strength up enough to move again. The world around you had been spinning out of control and the only relief is closing your eyes tightly, praying to anyone who would listen that the dizzying feeling would just stop. For fear of the situation only growing, your eyes are still closed tight but a new feeling made itself known. It seemed that someone had wrapped their arms around under your shoulders and then under your knees, you felt the ground from under you disappear; someone picked you up. There was silence around you but as you curled in closer to whomever held you, the smell of old cigarette smoke and whiskey tickled your nose; it was familiar.

Time passed and you woke up again, this time the dizzy feeling went away. Your eyes slowly open and you immediately recognize where you were. Jumping out of bed, you bound down the hallway and into the room you remembered from the last time you were there and the sight in front of you, made you super proud.

“Hey sweetheart,” Dean said when his eyes made contact with yours again. Rushing over you fall into Dean’s arms as he hugs you after not seeing you since the last jump

“Dean I literally thought I was never gonna see you again.”

“Yeah I know what You mean sweetheart I didn’t think we were ever gonna see you again.”

“Wait a minute where is Sam?” Just as you ask where he was the sound of the door opening to the bunker and footsteps coming down the stairs indicated that Sam had been coming home. Little did you or Dean know that he had been spending all of his time researching where you had gone to and how he could get you back.

“(Y/N) you’re back.”

“Hi Sam.”

“When did you come back?”

“Just now.”

“Are you OK? What happened, how did you come back?

“Really Sammy she's been gone for three months and all you can say is how is she back?” Dean pipes in

“What’s wrong with asking that?”

“Dude you clearly don’t get it.”

“Don’t get what Dean?” The two brothers were bickering back and forth to each other like they were kids again so you stepped to the side and let them talk.

“Doesn't matter how she got here it's just the fact that she's back that is what should matter to you!” Dean said.

“Well obviously I’m glad she’s back but it doesn't make any sense how can she jump from one round to another and be OK!”

“About that, I’m actually not OK.” You spoke up.

“What do you mean you're not OK?” Sam asked.

“I passed out and I don’t know where I ended up but I guess Dean found me picked me up and brought me back here. I was extremely dizzy and I just couldn’t move and the next thing I knew I woke up and I was here.

“Where did you find her?” Sam asked.

“She was about 40 feet away from the bunker it seemed however when she ended up jumping she tried to come back here somehow.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense.” Sam questions.

“What is with you and things making sense?! Look she came from another realm, another universe, met other people but now she's back can you just for once appreciate that she's here.” Dean asked can I get a little more infuriated with his brother.

“(Y/N) welcome back” and with that Sam left the room.

“What’s his problem? What happened when I left?”

“Sam took it kind of hard.” Dean explained.

“What do you mean?”

“Well Sam got a little crazy. He did everything he could to try to bring you back on his own but see what he doesn't realize is that you have absolutely no control of coming and going as you please. You just up and leave but to him there has to be some kind of scientific proof for it to make any sense. Me on the other hand I’m OK with it! I mean you come and go as you wish sweetheart I don’t care. I mean as long as I don’t end up feeling anything or you know anything happens between us then you know it’s cool.

“Wait what do you mean anything happening between us?”

“OK I’m not gonna lie when we first met might have sort of thought you were attractive, I don’t know but, I thought it was ridiculous being attracted to a girl who has absolutely no control of when she can or can’t be someone I mean am I right.”

“Well first of all thank you. I, of course, find you very attractive. I mean you should see what my room looks like in my universe. Your face and Sam’s face are everywhere but that’s another story though. Secondly I appreciate what you’re saying and I agree I don’t wanna start anything with anybody if I can’t stay in one place. Until I figure out how to control this dating is just not an answer for me.”

“Alright that’s fair. I get it but do you mind if I do something?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Well you know I thought maybe I could go kiss you or something, just to get it out of my system?”

“Man, everyone wants to kiss me” You say to yourself.

“What was that?”

Oh nothing, nothing um, I mean I guess so?”

“Well geez if I’m gonna kiss somebody they’re usually a little more excited about it.”

“No, no, I, I am, it’s just I don’t know wouldn’t it be kind of weird?”

“Me? Weird? Come on sweetheart that's not fair.”

“No, no, I mean it’s nothing against you. I mean like you said I have no control of when I’m gonna leave next and like you were saying I don’t wanna give you feelings and then just take it all away because I believe I mean”. And before you were able to finish that sentence the soft feeling of Dean’s lips were on yours immediately shutting you up.

You could tell just by that one kiss how long he had been wanting to kiss you, not that you knew him or Sam for very long to begin with but you knew there was something else there. After a few minutes had gone by Dean had let you breathe you decided to leave the room and try to downplay however you were feeling

“Well on that note I- I-I guess I’m gonna go and see what I can I-I can do for somebody else I-I don’t know I just have to go. Bye.”

You groan to yourself as you walk out the door and hear Dean laugh at you as you scurried away, hoping desperately that he would forget your awkwardness. Walking around the bunker you try to familiarize yourself with where you were based off of what you've seen on television

So if memory serves me correctly this should be Sam’s room. Slowly walking up to the door, you hesitate a moment before you realize that maybe what you're doing is a little bit crazy. Sam did seem like he was less than enthused to have you back after the way you left so abruptly the first time but he owed an explanation to you why he acted so weird when you came back. Dean was more than happy to see you but what was up with Sam? Slowly bringing your knuckle up to the door you tap on it three times, instantly regretting that you even came up here.

“I’m not in the mood Dean go away,” Sam's muffles voice could be heard from the other side.

“It’s me Sam,” you said just loud enough for him to hear you. Just then the door quickly opens and he appeared surprised to have you standing at his door.

“(Y/N) what are you doing here?

“The better question is why did you act so weird when I came back?” you counter.

“I was afraid you were gonna ask me that.”

“Afraid? Why were you afraid?

“Here why don’t you sit down,” Sam stepped aside and let you walk in before motioning for you to sit on the bed.

“OK look I acted weird when you came back because I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

“Well obviously I didn’t think I was coming back here either but I am here so why does it bother you so much?”

“It doesn’t bother me that you’re back. I’m just surprised taken back or whatever you wanna call it.”

“Yeah I get that you made that really clear but why?” You grew more frustrated with him.

“Since you left I drove myself crazy trying to figure out how we could get you back anytime we wanted.”

“I know Dean told me but why would you do that?”

“Well because I uh,” Sam seemed like he was trying to hide something from you.

“Come on Sam just say it.”

“Look I know it was only for a couple of days since you were here and we really don't know each other but I did start feeling something.”

“Oh no, not you too,” you say aloud.

“Wait what?” Sam was confused by this.

“Dean literally said the same thing to me about 20 minutes ago.”

“Wait so you're saying that Dean confessed to having feelings for you?”

“Yup,” you said nodding your head.

“Oh well that’s just great.” Sam said.

“He even kissed me too.” To say that Sam was disappointed was an understatement but he couldn't say anything, Dean had got to you first.

“I see um, OK then cool. So do you like him too?”

“I mean yeah, he's really cool actually and very cute?”

“Why does that sound more like a question?” Sam had asked

“Well because like I told him until I get this jumping thing under control I don’t think it’s fair that I have feelings for anybody. Dating would just be really, really hard because I never know when I’m gonna jump into another universe and who else I’m gonna meet. Besides I don’t wanna play with your feelings like that and then Dean’s feelings too; that’s not fair to you guys.”

“I mean I can see your point but Dean and I are grown men; we can make decisions for ourselves and whether we think it's good for us or not. I appreciate your concern but I’ll be OK.” Sam said, growing more confident in himself.

“Well that’s good to know but again, I just wouldn’t feel right about leading either one of you on when I never know if I’m staying.”

“Yeah I guess that’s true. It is kind of unfortunate though.”

“Why do you say that?” Curiosity began to taunt you.

“Well I don’t know, I think I came up with a couple of dates I thought would be kind of cool to take you on.”

“Oh really, and what would those have been?”

Sam chuckled a little nervously kind of shy about sharing the side of him usually doesn't let anybody see him to be a romantic type but when it came out he did like showing it. His cheeks tinted with pink.

“Well to start I think what I would do is we would go into town find the closest restaurant that set on the water sit across from each other and order the most expensive food that we could find on the menu.”

“Jeez wouldn’t that be expensive.”

“No but I can cover it you’re worth that.”

“OK so after we ordered all this food what would we do next?”

“Well after we finished eating and enjoying different conversation I would order a dessert.”

“You? A dessert man? I always thought you were the healthier one with all those salads you tend to eat.”

Sam laughed shaking his head a little bit

“Well yeah but in this case let’s just go with the dessert.”

“OK what kind of dessert?”

“It would be ladies choice so whichever you’re feeling we can go ahead and order as long as it’s not any kind of pie because I am sick of pie I mean you try and live with Dean.”

At that point you were both laughing knowing just how much the man loved his pie.

“OK,OK so after dessert what's next?”

“So I thought we would walk down the water line.”

“That sounds like it could be fun or a little bit messy.”

“What do you mean messy?

“If we’re gonna be at the water I’m gonna wanna take off my shoes and depending on if it rained or not there might be mud.”

“OK now you're really thinking too much into this.”

“Hey you said that you thought a lot about this, let me bring my thoughts into it too!”

“OK fair enough so we're walking along the water and we're holding hands just as the sun slowly begins to sink behind the horizon. The sky is this beautiful orange and pink little bit of purple in there as well but then I turn and I look to you I stop and I smile at you, not being able to realize just how lucky I am that someone as beautiful as you agreed to do something like this with me. In my past as a hunter, I never thought in a million years that I would be able to find somebody that I could just be myself with. I know I said we’ve only known each other for a few days but there's something about you and I can’t help but think of that maybe there could be a future between us. I don’t know it might be kind of crazy for me to think about it like this but in my line of work with how many times I’ve almost been killed or I have been killed and I’ve been brought back to life, it’s a chance I have to be willing to take.

Then Sam looked over to you as he finished his thought and you smile to yourself. And in that very moment, you grab his face and bring him to your lips. He immediately responds, grabbing your hips and holding you close to him. He growled a bit, almost animal like, as he took control and gave all his feelings to that kiss. Like he was afraid of losing you for good.

“No one has ever said anything like that to me before,” you say when you separate from him.

“You deserve to be reminded of that every day for the rest of your life” Sam says with his forehead against yours.

You sigh as you soak in this moment, this feeling in your heart, the smell of Sam and the feeling of his hands gripping onto your hips. Just as quickly as all of those feelings went through you, they all went away and that eerie familiar feeling rose up on your throat.

No, not now. Please, not now! And before your head could wrap around what was going on, you were torn away from Sam but his presence still lingered on your skin.

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