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drudyslut · 3 months

Note

Rafe x Reader who does like OF!? BUT rafe doesn’t know she does it. Like I can so see topper and rafe hanging out and she goes live bc she’s finaly able to be alone and top like being a subscriber to her and telling rafe about her and stuff yk? U can decide what happens from there but😭

warnings: smut! 18+ OF, aggressive!rafe, bimbo!reader, face fucking (i love this shit if u can’t tell), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, sex on a livestream, reader calls rafe daddy once, degrading. i think that’s all?

note: this got kinda long and i feel like i’ve been working on it for months (only a lil over a month lmao) but enjoy! remember: likes, comments and reblogs are very appreciated!

The sound of your soft moans coming from Topper’s phone had caught Rafe’s attention. He quickly makes his way toward his best friend, his mind going a thousand miles an hour at what Topper could have came across. His eyes go wide when he sees your body, dressed in the red lace lingerie set he’d bought you last week displayed on the screen.

“Yo, what the fuck are you on? That’s Y/N” Rafe snaps, his eyes narrowed into slits as he stares at his best friend, a wide smile spread across his lips.

Topper’s smile fades, a look of fear taking over his face when he notices the anger emitting from his best friend.

“Wh-What?! This is… This is Y/N?” Topper says lowly, eyes darting between his phone screen and Rafe.

Rafe shakes his head slowly, letting out a deep exhale before grabbing the phone from Topper’s hand. He clicks on your profile, seeing an array of pictures and videos. Your face was never shown, but Rafe knew your body, he knew about the birth mark you had on your inner thigh, he knew this was you.

“You- You’re fucking subscribed to my girlfriend? What the fuck Top!”

“Dude I swear, I didn’t know it was Y/N..” Topper replies, voice shaky as his eyes stay on his angry best friend.

Rafe exits the screen, tossing Topper’s phone onto the table before quickly making his way toward the front door, completely ignoring the apologies his best friend was shouting at him.

Rafe was furious. How could you not tell him you were on OnlyFans? Why were you on OnlyFans? He had more money than he knew what to do with, he could support you, so why were you selling your body online? Letting people see his girl?!

He was in his truck before he could even think a plan through, his mind only set on getting to your house and confronting the situation head on.

You’re mid livestream when you hear your front door open followed by a loud slam that made your heart sink into your stomach.

Rafe pushes your bedroom door open, his jaw tense and fists balled at his sides, he was breathing heavily, and you could sense from the tension in the air that he’d found out.

“Hey baby, what’re you-” You begin but Rafe stops you when he tightly wraps his fingers around your throat, squeezing so hard your vision blurred, tears filling your eyes as he continued to cut off your oxygen.

“Why the fuck are you on OnlyFans? Hmm? Am I not enough for you? Need to be a fucking whore online for the world? You like that type of attention?”

You tried to speak but all that came out were strangled gasps, your hand clawing at his as you tried to rip his hand from your throat.

“I’m gonna fuck you for this livestream, let all these fucking people know who you fucking belong to, got it?”

You trail your eyes up to his, nodding your head as best you could.

Rafe releases the grip on your throat, pushing you back in the process. You begin gasping for air as tears streamed harshly down your face. You glance down at your computer, noticing the hundreds of comments flooding in before glancing back up at Rafe who had stripped himself down to nothing.

You bite down at your bottom lip, sitting yourself onto your knees. Rafe takes a long stride toward you, his hard cock grasped firmly in his hands as he slowly stroked himself.

“Set that up somewhere else, gotta let ‘em see how good I fuck your throat”

You quickly jump from your bed, setting your computer up on your dresser, giving a perfect view of your bed and rushing back to Rafe. You spit into your palm, quickly pushing his hand off himself and replacing it with your own.

Rafe groans, his head thrown back in pleasure as you slowly worked him. “Fuck, can’t wait to feel those pretty lips wrapped around my cock”

You place a soft kiss onto his tip before pushing it into your mouth. You swirl your tongue around his swollen head, the taste of his precum hitting your tongue and pulling a low moan from you.

Rafe gathers your hair into his hand, pulling at it harshly before he shoves your head down. You gag around him when his head hits the back of your throat. He begins to thrust himself in and out of your mouth, hair tightly grasped in his hand, “Fuck, so fucking good. Let ‘em see how well you take my cock baby”

He continues thrusting himself into your mouth, tears flowing quickly down your face with each push and pull. You place both hands on his thighs, trying to steady yourself but Rafe uses his free hand to slap your hands away.

You feel his thrusts growing sloppy, hips stuttering, before he pulls you off of him.

You whine, “Rafe, wanna taste you. Please”

Rafe tsks, shaking his head as his darkened over eyes find yours, “Don’t think so baby, when I cum, it’s gonna be in that pretty pussy”

He situates himself on your bed, snapping his fingers and signaling for you to sit yourself on his lap with your back to him. You glance up to look into your webcam, watching as the many comments continue to fill the screen.

Rafe runs a large hand up your sides, large palms finding your bra covered chest and cupping at your tits harshly. You throw your head back, resting it on his shoulder as he continues to massage at your flesh, pinching your hardened nipples between his fingers.

He runs one hand back down your side, gripping at your thigh and harshly spreading your legs. His fingers tug at the waistband of your lacy panties, ripping them off your body and tossing the torn fabric to your bedroom floor.

His eyes flicker up to the screen of your laptop, a smirk taking over his face when he sees your glistening cunt on display, his long fingers toying at your clit and wet folds.

“Such a pretty pussy, and it’s all mine”

You whimper out a weak response, Rafe’s lips attacking your neck with kisses, teeth nipping at your sensitive skin and leaving deep purple bruises in their wake.

You let out a loud gasp when you feel two fingers plunged inside your aching core, his harsh upward thrusts making your hips jerk forward. He quickly grabs at your hip with his free hand, forcing you back down onto his lap as he continues to harshly push his fingers inside of you.

He places a hot, open mouthed kiss to your shoulder before sinking his teeth into the skin. He curves his fingers up, finding that spot inside you that has your brain short circuiting, toes curling as you sink your teeth into your bottom lip.

“God, you’re such a fucking slut. Getting off on me using you on camera for hundreds of people watching”

A low groan falls from your lips, “Rafe, fuck feels so fucking good” You sob out, tears pricking at your eyes, threatening to spill with each harsh thrust of his fingers.

Rafe tuts, slowing his fingers down to a painfully slow pace, “I dunno. I don’t think I should let you cum. I mean, you were out here selling your body, my body, when I can give you whatever you want”

You feel yourself clenching around his fingers, orgasm fluttering, ready to rush from you at any moment, “Rafe, please! ‘M so sorry! Let me cum, please!”

Rafe chuckles darkly, “Fucking beg for it then. Beg me to let you cum”

You choke out a sob, tears flowing down your cheeks. “Please! Please let me cum daddy! Promise i’ll be a good girl, won’t ever do anything bad again”

“So goddamn pathetic” Rafe laughs out, his fingers picking up in pace again, repeatedly hitting at your gspot, forcing your orgasm from you in body shaking euphoria.

He helps you ride out your high before harshly pulling his fingers from you, bringing them into his mouth and sucking your juices from them. “Always taste so good baby”

Rafe quickly lifts you from his lap, tossing you onto your bed. “On your stomach” He demands, and you quickly obey.

You’re flat on your stomach, hands under your head as your eyes find your computer screen for what felt like the millionth time. A small squeal escapes you when Rafe’s large hands grip at your hips and lifts your ass up.

The bed dips in behind you, Rafe’s knees hitting the mattress as he kneels behind you. He lands a harsh slap to your ass with one hand while the other firmly grips at his cock, slowly pumping himself and teasing at your entrance with his swollen head.

“Rafe, please!”

He harshly thrusts himself inside, his tip hitting at your sweet spot and pulling loud moans from you. His fingertips dig into your sides, surely bruising the skin, his hips slamming into your backside roughly.

“Fuck, always feel so good f’me, so fucking wet and tight! Keep squeezin’ me like that baby, takin’ me so good, so deep”

You arch your back more, letting him thrust himself as deep as he could into your sore cunt. The sounds of your squelching pussy and Rafe’s loud groans bounce off the walls of your room, your inner walls clenching uncontrollably around Rafe’s cock, trying to squeeze out every last drop he had to give.

“R-Rafe! Gonna fuckin’ cum, holy shit, feels so goddamn good!”

Rafe slides a hand up the length of your back, reaching the back of your head and gripping at your hair. He pulls your neck backward, tears forming in your eyes from the uncomfortable position your neck was in along with the brutal thrusts of his cock. He uses the hand in your hair to keep your body steady, his free hand making its way to your face, fingers pushing past your lips and down your throat.

“Look toward the camera baby, show them how fuckin’ good I make you feel. Wanna cum? Wanna be a good fuckin’ girl and soak my cock?”

You turn your head as best you can, eyes looking directly into the camera. Your cheeks are stained with mascara, drool running down the sides of your face as Rafe’s fingers stay lodged in your mouth. You had a completely fucked out look on your face, your tits bouncing with each thrust of his hips.

You pathetically whimper when Rafe slowly pulls himself from inside you, slamming himself back inside without warning. “Go on, say it. Only I can make you feel this good. I fucking own this pussy, yeah? Say it!”

You choke out a sob, “You- You own me Rafe! You own my pussy! Only- Only you make me feel this good”

Rafe lets out a low and raspy groan, his dick twitching inside you, his warm cum spilling into your pussy.

He fucks himself into you a few more times, helping you reach your own high. He strokes the head of his cock against your gspot, making you clamp around him, your body going limp as your orgasm rushes through you, soaking his cock and your bedsheets.

He slowly pulls himself from you, his fingers falling from your mouth and letting your body fall flat onto the mattress. He softly lifts you up, turning your arousal soaked pussy toward the camera and letting your viewers watch his cum drip from your cunt.

He slowly walks toward your computer, ending the livestream without any hesitation. He walks you back to your bed, dropping your weak body down, his tall frame towering over your body.

“I want that account deleted tomorrow, and don’t ever let me catch you doing that stupid shit again, got it?”

RAFE TAGLIST: @ivy-34 @rafeism @thelomlisrafecameron @rafegirly @f4ll-for-you @drewstarkeyslut @starkeypankowsbae @lizcameron @m-1234 @dilvcv @thewitchesofart @rafesgfxo @unsaidjaelinrose @abbybarnesstuff @itsmytimetoodream @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @r1vrsefx @alexisbaumann2004 @yourfavborderhopper @moremaybank @mel119g @rafetopia @rafemotherfuckingcameron @jade-is-jaded @jjmaybankisbae @lexasaurs634 @lyndys @softlilacarrest @fayerite @exhaustedbutelated @urmyslxt @sierraluvz @presleyanswrites @carma-fanficaddict @rafescokenostril @madzzz0797 @slytherhoes @jscameron @jjsmarijuana @ijustwanttoreadlols @luversgirl @sugarcoatedstarkey @skyesthebomb @nirvanaissogood @stvrkey @vhour @emma77645 @rafeinterlude @inluvwithmorales @superlegend216 @mannstarkey @digitaldiary111 @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @crgirlsworld @personalfavsthatarerandom @urbestieboo @carolinaxvz @maybankslover @bigslay86 @buckyisveryhot @cantstoptherecs

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faefictions · 4 months

Text

Snow in Indiana

Eddie Munson x Reader

5.7k words

Eddie has spent the past decade thinking about the pen pal he lost touch with, but fate has a funny way of bringing people back together when they need it most

Warnings: family death (unedited bc it is 3am and I have been working on this for hours)

“Dear Eddie,

Does it Snow in Indiana?”

He had read the beginning of the note hundreds of times by now. He had memorized how each individual letter had been written and slightly smudged. He knew the entire contents of the letter by heart, but that never stopped him from coming back to it from time to time.

“My grandma hasn’t told me much about Hawkins, just that it’s just like home. Except it’s on the other side of the country. Grandma likes the snow, so I hope you say yes.”

Something about the innocent nature of your writing calmed him down when things got rough. He had received the note in the middle of August at the beginning of 6th grade. Your grandmother had just moved across the country, and she just so happened to be the Librarian at Eddie’s new middle school. She had told both of you that the other could use a friend, even if you were thousands of miles apart. She also insisted that being pen pals would improve both of your lackluster reading and writing skills. She meant well.

“Can I tell you the truth? I didn’t want to write you a letter when grandma called and told me I should. My teachers say I’m not good at writing anyway. But Grandma also said maybe you and I could be friends. And I think I would like that.”

Some of your words had been crossed out with pen, either from misspellings or second thoughts on phrasing. Eddie had stared at the paper for so long that he even knew what was underneath those scribbles.

When the snow started coming down each winter, it was hard for him to not want to keep the letter on him at all times. The opening line of your first letter to him always floated into his head with the first snowflakes.

He had written you back to assure you that it does snow in Indiana, that he too had troubles with pleasing his teachers with his school work, and of course, that he too would like to be friends.

That was over 10 years ago now. He had never met you, never heard your voice, never learned what you looked like (besides the poorly drawn picture you had included for him one time) but you had been a part of him for his middle school years.

The letters started slowing down in the 8th grade. You had told him you were nervous for high school, that you’d heard that kids were meaner there. The last letter he had sent you was in the summer before both of your freshman years. He hated that he couldn’t remember what he had said, what his last words to you were. All he knew was that he wished you luck for your first day.

Then the letters stopped completely. After months of checking mailboxes impatiently, he got the hint and gave up.

At the age of 24, he wishes he sent another letter. He wishes he got some closure on why you stopped writing. He had always wondered if it had been something he had said, or maybe you had just found new friends in high school and decided you didn’t need him anymore.

He was embarrassed to admit that it was his first heartbreak. So he refused to admit it even happened to anyone he knew now.

He tucked the old letter in his pocket as another patron entered the diner. He had picked up a second job as the night cook in hopes of saving up enough to to move out of the trailer with Wayne. It had been months of helping Wayne with bills now, and he was just barely starting to see the hard work pay off in his savings account.

He peeked out the pass through window to get a glimpse of the first customer they’d had in the last hour and a half. The snow had been coming down hard, and it was preventing the already few people who would be coming in to the diner at this hour from showing up. He wasn’t surprised to see the young woman, somewhere around his age, follow the waitress quickly to the booth in the corner and sit down. He was, however, surprised to see no new car in the small lot outside. He hadn’t seen headlights arrive or depart to drop her off. The snow that has accumulated on her hair, even thought it has been covered with a hood, was making him think she had walked a distance to get here. If the counter hadn’t been blocking his view, he would have seen the bottom of her pants completely soaked through from the snow piled outside to confirm his suspicion.

“Can you start on a stack of pancakes, Ed?”

He nodded at the waitress, Judy, who wasn’t usually one to whisper like she was now. She rushed off to the phone in the back office, which did nothing but pique the interest in Eddie’s under stimulated brain.

Curiosity got the best of him, so he made his way out of the kitchen quickly, grabbed a mug from the counter and the full coffee pot, and made his way over the girl in the corner.

You had been staring out the window, and Eddie recognized the look as he approached. You were doing your best to hold yourself together. He was used to this kind of customer at this time of night. People who really needed the company, who had nowhere else to go, often found their way here after midnight. But there was something different about you, and it wasn’t just that he had never seen you around town. No matter how hurt he could tell you were inside, you did your best to keep up a facade when you saw him approaching.

“Coffee?” he offered, less poised than he had intended.

“Please,” you smiled up at him as he set down the mug and poured. He allowed himself to take you in, and that’s when he saw the snow still caked on to your sneakers, and the damp cloth stretching from the hem above your ankle nearly up to your knees. There was snow yet to melt from head to toe, and you were trying your best not to shake from the cold.

“You walk here?” He tried to make light conversation as he chuckled, but you weren’t as chipper.

“My car broke down about a mile up the road. Walking was my only option,” You tried to keep the smile on your face, but Eddie saw the look, almost like a shunned child. As if you were embarrassed by what you had done, preparing for the lecture or consequence coming your way.

Before he could say anything, Judy returned from the back office.

“Tow truck won’t be running ’til morning, darlin’. But I left a message telling them you’d call first thing,” Judy gave you a halfhearted smile, before turning to Eddie, “Where’s that stack I told you to start on?”

“Right, sorry,” he quickly excused himself back to the kitchen, but did his best to listen for the conversation you were having on the other side of the room.

“Where are you staying tonight? I can try to get you a ride there.”

“My grandma’s house, well it used to be I guess. I think it’s just a few more miles into town, I’m not a hundred percent sure though, I’ve never been out here.”

“Used to be your grandma’s house?”

“Yeah, she, uhm… passed away not long ago. Hard to own something six feet under,” you tried to joke, but failed to make either of you laugh, “Funeral service is next week, I came early to pack up her things. Guess I chose the wrong day to drive in though.”

“I’d say. Well let me see what I can do, do you have the address?”

“Yeah, it’s right…” you trailed off as you checked your pocket, slowly coming to realize that you had left the torn piece of paper with the address written on it on your passenger seat, right on top of the map you were struggling to follow in the heavy snow. “Guess I left it in the car.”

Just as the realization was threatening to break you, Eddie came and set a fresh stack of 3 pancakes in front of you.

“You eat up, it’s on the house. And let me know if you remember any of that address,” Judy smiled at you and walked into the back before you could refuse the free pancakes.

Eddie watched you for the next hour through the pass through window. No other customers came in, so he didn’t exactly have anything better to do. It was nearing 4 am, the end of Eddie’s shift. He had cleaned his station in the kitchen faster than he ever had and made his way out to your table to check on your before he left.

“Any luck with that address?”

“Don’t think I’d remember it with a gun to my head. I might as well walk back and grab it.”

“Not a chance. My shift is over in a few minutes. Why don’t I drive you back to your car, you can grab it, and I can get you there.”

“I couldn’t possibly-“

“No need to be polite. You’ve had a rough enough night, let’s just get you home.”

You didn’t correct his phrasing. This was the furthest you had ever been from home, and you were sure as hell feeling that in this strange diner with barely a concept of where you were. The snow falling outside only exacerbated your feeling of being out of place.

Eddie rushed to the back to grab his belongings and wish Judy a good night, letting her know he was going to get you out of there, before he made his way back out to you. You had brought the hood of your sweatshirt back up, and were staring out at the snow silently. He approached cautiously and gently spoke, “Let’s get out of here,” before guiding you through the door.

“I’m Eddie, by the way. Sorry I didn’t properly introduce myself earlier.”

You paused at his name, but he was too busy trying to find his van through the wall of snow to notice.

“I’m y/n, thanks again for helping. You and Judy are both angels.”

He smiled at your name for a moment, but kicked the idea from his mind.

Both of you thought of the letters you had sent all those years ago, unaware that the person climbing into the same car as you was in fact the person you were reminiscing on.

Eddie shook the snow out of his hair like a wet dog before starting the van.

“Left out of the lot?”

“Yeah,” you smiled.

“You know, I’ve helped fix up a few cars in my day. I could take a look under the hood for you when we get there if you’d like.”

“You’re already helping enough, thank you though.”

“I really don’t mind. Can’t hurt just to take a look.”

The glance and smile he shot you made your stomach do flips. In the low light of the passing, sparse streetlights, he looked incredibly handsome. Your mind wandered back to what you thought your Eddie looked like back in middle school. You had sent him a drawing of yourself, mostly as a joke since your drawing skills as a 12 year old weren’t amazing, but you were also trying to send him the message that you desperately wanted to know him better. Of course, when your grandmother had insisted you become pen pals with a strange boy, you weren’t too happy about the idea, but as time went on, the sound of a friend sounded too nice. You hadn’t had many of them in elementary school, and it concerned your family. But as your friendship with Eddie grew with each letter, you found yourself hoping for something, anything, more. Now, as an adult, you blame your adolescent brain for the silly crush. But that didn’t stop you from thinking about him from time to time, still wondering what he might be doing in that moment, or if he is happy. But most of all, you wondered if he missed you as much as you missed him.

“You doing alright over there?” he asked you over the quiet metal playing over the speakers. He was playing it at about 1% of the volume he usually listened at, in an attempt to not scare you off just yet.

“Yeah, just a long night,” you smiled back at him. He nearly assured you that you could be real with him, that he could tell that something more was bothering you, but he worried that would be coming on too strong. And before he could find a way to say it without sounding creepy, you pointed out your car on the side of the road with a sigh.

It had only been a couple hours since you had left it, but it was nearly buried in the snow.

“That’s a little more difficult to check out,” He chuckled as he pulled to the side of the road, lighting up your car with his headlights.

“It’s fine, I’ll just go grab the address and we can get going,” you tried not to sigh as you opened the passenger door.

“Wait a second,” Eddie reached for your hand before you could make it out of the car, “I’m fine with taking a look, and I can grab the address too. No need for you to get cold again.”

“I already walked a mile in the snow earlier, I don't think a minute out there will kill me.”

“All the more reason for you to stay in here if you ask me.”

“Fine, but skip looking under the hood. I can call the tow truck when I wake up, it should be fine until then. Even if you could fix it with nothing, I don’t think I should be driving any more today.”

“Long trip?”

“Since 8 am. I really just want to get to sleep.”

“Deal,” he smiled again before stretching his hand out to you, “Keys?”

You reluctantly let him have the keys to go grab the paper, but not before trying to assure him you were capable of grabbing it yourself. You watched him as he rushed as fast as he could through the near foot of snow, grabbed the address, and rushed back to the van.

“You didn’t lock it,” you stated, nervous to not to sound nagging.

“I know, do you have a bag or something I can grab for you?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, where is it?”

“It’s in the back seat on the passenger side. It’s a small black suitcase.”

“You got it, here, take this,” he handed you the torn paper with your grandmother’s previous address written on it in a handwriting that would have been familiar to him, had he glanced down at it.

He ran back to grab your suitcase, and made sure to double check that the doors had locked after he shut them before he rushed back to the van. He threw your suitcase in the backseat before jumping back into the drivers seat.

“I don’t know how you lasted a mile in that, I’m already freezing,” he complained, but his smile still refused to leave his face.

“I’m sorry,” you tried yet again to apologize.

“Don’t be,” he paused to look you in the eye to assure you that he wasn’t upset in the slightest, “Now let’s see that address. Hopefully I actually know where it is.”

You handed him the paper, and even in the low light, you couldn’t miss the way his face fell, even for a millisecond. He hadn’t seemed to stop smiling all night, but the second he saw the paper, it faltered for just a moment.

“Everything ok?”

He looked up at you, and you could tell he wanted to say something, but thought better of it.

“Yeah, uhm, this is on the other side of town though. It’s a bit of a drive, is that ok?”

“I’d rather drive a little further than stay in my car tonight. So yeah, it’s fine,” you giggled, relieved that he didn’t seem angry or annoyed with you like you thought.

But he had seen the handwriting. He would know it anywhere, yet he still wouldn’t let himself get caught up in the coincidences. You were just a girl with similar handwriting, and the same name. You weren’t his y/n. He could never be so lucky.

“So, what brings you to town?” he asked after a moment of driving.

“It isn’t the happiest story, and I don’t want to be a bummer.”

“I’m nosey, and that does nothing to curb my interest,” he joked. He just needed to prod, he needed to know if he was being crazy.

“My grandma passed… about a week ago now. Her funeral is next week, but someone needed to clean up her house for the service, and no one else wanted to make the drive out.”

“Do you have any other family in the area to help out?”

“No, she only had 2 sons. My dad and my uncle, and they’re both back west. She moved here, like, 12 years ago now I think. Maybe 13.”

Just another coincidence. He’s not this lucky.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

You looked at him out of the corner of your eyes. You hadn’t heard that yet. Just stressed adults complaining about how traveling in the winter was too much of a hassle. Hearing those words, from a near stranger no less, was enough to make you tear up. And Eddie could hear that in your voice when you thanked him, but he chose not to comment on it.

“So,” you began after a moment of awkward silence, “How long have you lived in Hawkins?”

“My whole life.”

“Do you like it here?”

“Uh… It has its moments,” he tried his best to hide his discontent with the town. If it weren’t for his uncle, his band, and his small group of friends, he would have ran for the hills by now. He was too attached to them to run… and also lacking the funds to do so.

“That good huh?” you laughed.

“Hate to sound like an ass, but there are definitely plenty of cons that outweigh the pros for me half the time. But that’s not everyone’s experience.”

“Grandma seemed to like it, but she also liked it back home, and it’s no cake walk back there.”

You almost spat the end of your sentence, and although it wasn’t spoken explicitly, Eddie understood.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to keep bringing the conversation down. It’s just been a really long week.”

“I believe it,” He paused, “So how long are you going to be staying in town then?”

“I have no idea. Rumor is Grandma left me the house. And even if she did…. I’m sorry, I’ve been awake for almost 24 hours now, and driving for over 15 of them. I know you really don’t need to hear any of this.”

You started to make your body as small as possible, hyper aware of how loudly you had been speaking, and how riled up you were getting. Your father would have hated to see it. But not Eddie.

“No, keep going. Like I said, I’m nosey, and it sounds like you could use someone to talk to about this.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” he agreed nonchalantly, unaware how much it meant to you.

“My grandma and I were really close before she moved. She didn’t get along with either of her sons, but she was the world to me as a kid. And my dad put up no effort to even reach out to her in the past decade, but he expects all of her stuff to be left to him, and my uncle wants the same. But my mom told me that one of them had reason to believe that she left it all to me. I don’t even know where they heard it, and don’t get me wrong, I’m not ungrateful, I promise. I just don’t know what to do about the two grown men that she apparently left out of the will if that’s true, and how mad they’re going to be at me.”

“They wouldn’t be mad at you.”

“You don’t know my dad,” you scoffed. You knew damn well that the man wasn’t afraid of throwing a tantrum, especially if it came to money. And he wouldn’t care if you were the one getting hurt in the process.

“What would they have to be mad at you for though? For your Grandma loving you enough to leave you something to start your life on? How is that your fault?”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s my fault, they just care that they get their share. If it’s left to me, I might as well just divvy it up before they say anything.”

“But that’s not what you want, is it?”

“I just don’t want to have any issue with them.”

“I’m sorry, that’s not fair to you.”

“You really need to stop being so nice, you’re going to make me cry,” you chuckled, genuinely fighting back the tears as you spoke.

“Sorry,” he chuckled back. He took a subject before continuing. “Have you seen the house? Like have you ever visited?”

“No, actually. Who knows, maybe it’s a real fixer upper and I’d be better off passing it on to my uncle,” you giggled, and that put the smile back on Eddie’s face.

“If I didn’t mess up the address, it should just be in this next neighborhood.”

You kept saying that all you wanted was to get some rest after your long day, but now that you were talking to Eddie, you didn’t want the drive to end. The disappointment hit you like a rock as he pulled into the driveway of your grandmothers old house, but the feeling quickly turned to something else as you looked out the window to see the beautiful 2 story house with large trees on either side.

“So much for the fixer upper theory,” Eddie said with a whistle, but you were speechless. This was much more than you had been anticipating, much nicer than you had spent your younger years picturing every time you missed your grandma.

“You ok?” he asked after a moment of silence.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, I was just taking it in,” you chuckled nervously, still staring at the house.

“Why don’t we get you inside?” He said, reaching in the back for your suitcase. You put a hand gently on his arm to stop him, and he looked up to see your nearly empty stare, still on the building in front of you.

“Can you give me just a minute? I’m sorry, I know it’s late.”

“No, it’s fine… Are you ok?”

“Yeah…Yeah, It just,” you trailed off for a moment, “I hadn’t seen her in years. Had no idea what her house looked like, or what she looked like anymore. I got letters, I got calls, but… Part of all this didn’t feel as real. Going in there, that’s real.”

“Want me to come in with you?”

“No, that’s fine. I just need a second.”

“Have you ever lost anyone before?”

You didn’t answer, just shook your head as you moved your eyes from the house to him.

“Let me walk you in. You shouldn’t be alone for that.”

You looked back at the house for a moment, took a deep breath, and nodded your head.

Eddie carried your suitcase through the front door, and you both kicked off your shoes before stepping on the carpet. You took a deep breath before reaching for the light switch. Eddie sensed your hesitation as your fingers hovered. He took the opportunity to grab the fingers of your other hand. It gave you enough courage to turn on the light in the entry way.

The furniture was mostly unfamiliar. You could see a few pieces in the living room that you had remembered from your childhood, and the sense of nostalgia calmed you. Eddie let you walk ahead of him, letting go of your hand as you ventured further into the room. Slowly but surely, you made your way to a wall on the other side of the room. It was covered in pictures, new and old, of your grandma with family and friends. You recognized yourself in plenty of them, but the newer ones were the ones that you couldn’t stop looking at. She looked so much older that you had remembered, but still had the youthful glow to her that you had attributed to her mischievousness. No matter how old she got, how wrinkled her face grew, or how gray her had and gotten, you still recognized her. Part of your heart began to ache for not knowing her as she was before she passed. It had been so long.

You felt Eddie approach you from behind, and you expect him to say something nice, or encouraging. But he didn’t. He was surprisingly quiet. You turned to make sure he was alright, but he didn’t seem fine. He was staring at one of the photos on the wall, and he looked like he was about to be sick.

“Are you ok, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Uh, yeah,” he replied, still white as a sheet as he tore his eyes from the photo to look at you. He barely shot you a half smile before looking back up at the pictures. You took a step back to stand next to him.

“I just remembered that she worked at the middle school when she moved here. Did you know her?”

“Yeah.”

“…Did you like her?” you tried asking after waiting for him to say anything more.

“Yeah, she introduced me to my best friend.”

“Me too,” you smiled at the memory of your old pen pal.

“Someone back home?”

“No, actually. I probably shouldn’t refer to him as that still. We haven’t spoken in… years actually.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, finally peeling his eyes away from the photos on the wall.

He should have said more, but he didn’t know what else to say. This was her. He was in shock. The girl he had spent the last decade wondering about had wandered into his diner. His thoughts were moving a mile a minute, he felt like he could physically hear them, and it was hard to focus on anything you had possibly said. But luckily, you weren’t saying much.

He followed you like a ghost as you explored the first floor of the house. You were happy you had arrived before anyone else. You had the chance to see the house how she had left it, how she had lived in it. It gave you a sense of closure you weren’t going to get otherwise, it felt as if you were getting a sense of knowing her once again. You were caught up in it until you saw a clock on the wall, reading nearly 5 am. Realization hit you that you were keeping Eddie, and a sense of guilt washed over you. You turned to find him, with a bit of color returned to his face.

“It’s really late, I’m sorry I’ve kept you. You can go home if you’d like. I’m sure you want to get some rest too after your shift.”

He took a second, before asking, “Are you sure you’ll be alright?” And you hesitated before nodding.

“Honestly, the roads are pretty bad out there. I could stay on the couch, help you figure out your car in the morning. How does that sound?”

He way have been a complete stranger just hours ago, but you really did feel like you could trust him. So you smiled and nodded.

“I’ll go find some blankets for you,” you smiled before disappearing up the stairs. Eddie didn’t expect you to come back for a while. You were bound to find your grandmothers bedroom and need to look around for a while. He made his way back to the living room while he waited. He stared at the wall again, but not in shock this time. Now that he knew was 24 year old you looked like, he desperately want to see what 12 year old you looked like. He found a picture near the middle of the wall, of a young girl smiling at the camera. It was the only photo on the wall without your grandmother in it. She had your eyes, had your smile, but most importantly, she actually looked like the drawing he had received all those years ago. You weren’t as bad of an artist as you’d thought. Eddie tried not to grow emotional staring at the photo. He only tore his eyes away from the picture of younger you when he heard you making your way back down the stairs.

Before you could reach Eddie, you paused by the window next to the back door, blankets in hand. The snow coated the back yard, reflecting the light from the back porch into the sky. You began to tear up, just as Eddie approached to take the blankets from you. He saw one of the first tears fall down your cheek, and quickly, but gently put an arm around you.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just… Is this what it looks like every winter?” you asked, looking up at him with misty eyes.

“For parts of it, yeah. Why?”

“Grandma loved the snow,” was all you could reply before looking back out at the yard.

He contemplated it for a second, fought himself on whether or not this was the right moment to say it, but he couldn’t help himself.

“I told you she’d like it here”

A moment passed as you processed what he had said. You gasped quietly, quickly turning your head to face him. He looked nervous, as if he had just handed his heart to you on a platter, waiting to see if you would reject it.

“Eddie?” you asked cautiously, and you both knew what the question really was.

“Yeah,” he nodded, still nervous and unable to read what you were thinking.

“You stopped writing,” was all you could get out before another tear dropped.

“What?”

“Y-you stopped writing,” you repeated, beginning to choke on your breathes as you spoke.

He nearly panicked as he tried to reply.

“Y/n, w-what do you mean? I only stopped writing when you stopped replying.”

“Oh my god, it’s really you,” you couldn’t stop looking at him, another tear dropping down your cheek. Your exhaustion was exaggerating your emotions, but you may have felt the same regardless. You had waited 12 years for this moment.

“Yeah. Why don’t we go sit down,” he smiled at you, before herding you towards the couch.

“Y/n,” he spoke softly as he crouch in front of you, one hand resting on each of your knees as you sat on the couch, “What do you mean I stopped writing?”

“I sent you a letter, you never replied.”

“That’s impossible, I waiting for months to hear back from you. There’s no way I missed a letter from you.”

“No, I sent one, and I waited, but you never replied. You broke my heart Eds,” you quietly began to sob, filled with too many mixed emotions.

Eddie quickly sat next to you on the couch and pulled you to his chest to comfort you the best he could, but he was still confused. He had checked his own mailbox, his neighbors mailboxes, other houses in town with the same street number as his trailer. This didn’t add up. He quietly shushed you as he thought.

“What did the last letter say?” he asked as you began to calm down just slightly. He had half the collection of your letters memorized, but especially the first and last. He would know if he had read it if you described it.

“It was before Freshman year, I told you how scared I was that all the kids were going to be mean. I was so afraid that I was going to get singled out for still having no friends, and I waited for months to hear back from you. But you never wrote back. You were my only friend, and you stopped writing.”

“No, sweetheart, I would never,” he sighed as his heart dropped. He got that letter, he replied to it. Which meant that she never got his last letter. Neither of them had stopped writing on purpose, they had both assumed the other had given up. But he had sent out one last letter that was unaccounted for.

“Sweetheart, can you look at me,” he gently guided you to look up at him, “I promise you, I wrote back. I don’t know what happened to it, but I never would have stopped writing like that. I thought you had just ignored my last letter.”

“You wrote,” you said quietly, and Eddie couldn’t tell if it was a question, or if you were trying to reassure yourself.

“I did, I promise,” he whispered as he swept a tear off your cheek with his thumb.

And though you still needed to know what happened to his letter, and you had had one of the longest days of your life, nothing mattered more to you in that moment than leaning in, slowly. You took a second, pausing right before reaching his lips so he could pull away if he wanted, but he didn’t. It was a quick kiss, but it was gentle and sweet. Eddie didn’t try to pull you in for another, but he didn’t want to part as you pulled away.

It took him a second to open his eyes again, but when he did, he was smiling just as big as you.

“You ok?” he asked for what must have been the hundredth time that night. But unlike every other time you had answered, this time you told him the truth.

“I am now.”

(may or may not be already trying to figure out a part 2 for this, depending on if people like it <3 )

@embrace-themagic @fanficparker @heartbeats-wildly @saturn-aka-six @calum-hoodwinked-me @peterplanet @mischiefmanaged49 @nicotine-sunshine820 @itsjusttor @emistrash @thenoddingbunny-blog @sovereignparker @raajali3 @eddielives1986 @eddieswifu @chickpeadumpsterfire @fluffybunnyu @panagiasikelia @canthavetoomuchchaos @whenshelanded @starlitlakes @witchwolflea @ali-r3n @g0thdraculaura @celestcies

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson hurt/comfort #line cook!eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine

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sorchathered · 1 month

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Strip that down

Pairing- Club Owner!Jake Seresin x Dancer!Reader (Nightclub AU)

Warnings- mentions of stripping, language, light smut

Summary-I’m gonna be so serious y’all I blacked out writing this, might make it a series of drabbles in the future bc I went feral for the concept.

“I swear you have got to be the most pig headed, arrogant son of a bitch I’ve ever met” you say as you storm down the hall, a very disgruntled Jake Seresin hot on your heels. He hadn’t intended to start a fight but goddamnit it seemed like no matter what he said lately caused an argument.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? It’s not like I was asking for that girl’s number or anything, she was all over me! What did you want me to do? hit her? Come on Cherry just stop and look at me please?” He said as he jogged in front of you to stall you. You two weren’t even dating, you’d been very adamant that this was just hooking up, so why were you so pissed? Unless…

“Cherry look at me. I can’t keep fighting with you like this, it’s driving me insane. If you want to break things off we can, I can’t say I won’t miss you but I’ll get it. We work together and it’s hard to be professional when shit like this happens. But…if you want more, all you have to do is ask baby girl, you know good and damn well you’ve got me totally wrapped.”

He had you crowded up against the sticky nightclub wall, bass thrumming through the room straight into your chest as he skimmed his hands up and down your sides. You’d been in the middle of your set when you watched some fresh faced new hire throw her arms around his neck and get way too close for your liking, but of course you had to be professional and continue on, trying to school your features as you danced on stage. The second you’d finished and gotten your tips you’d slammed his portion on the bar, stomping off to the dressing rooms, the fire in your eyes enough to burn the whole room down. He wasn’t yours, he was your boss and you should’ve known better than to let him get under your skin like this.

You were trying to get your bearings but your head was spinning, had he really just said he wanted more? You opened your mouth but promptly shut it, how were you supposed to respond to that? Of course that’s what you wanted but you never would’ve suggested it, you’d been in love with him since the two of you had started this whole arrangement, how could you not be? He was charming and charismatic, and don’t even ask about his looks; the man knew he looked good. He was making it harder and harder to focus now, those damn hands of his couldn’t seem to stop grazing over whatever exposed flesh he could get to and it was making you dizzy.

He cocked his head and smirked that smart ass smile at you, leaning in to whisper against your lips, “Gotta use your words baby, you want us to keep going like we are? Or do you want me to make you mine? You say the word and I’ll make sure every girl in a 100 mile radius knows you own me, but I need to hear you say it.”

“You know I do, I love you, you’re such an asshole but fuck I do, I love you Jake.”

He groaned as he pressed himself to you, kissing you hard as he continued to run his hands all over your body. “Goddamnit Cherry, you can’t just drop a bomb like that on me, making me fucking crazy, I ought to take you right here where everyone can see.” His words sent fire through your veins, you cried out and bucked into him at the thought of him fucking you right outside of the main stage, anyone could walk by and you weren’t sure you’d even care. He chuckled against the shell of your ear as he continued to press his palm against your core, he could feel you soaking through the thin fabric of your costume, again he briefly considered following through with his taunting and fucking you right here, but thought better of it because after all you were still at work. He kissed you again and removed his hand from your shorts, watching your pretty doe eyes blink at him in shock, you really had thought he’d do it.

“Oh come on now don’t look at me like that, go change and grab your stuff, first I’m gonna take you out for dinner and then you can be my dessert, whadd’ya say Cherry Pie?” You rolled your eyes but let him scoot you down the hall, and when you walked out with his hand on your ass you made sure the new waitress caught a glimpse of your tongue down his throat. Jake could definitely get used to this side of you, and the private dances just for him every night didn’t hurt either.

🏷️ Tagging- @mamamaystbr @mamachasesmayhem @sailor-aviator @attapullman @bobgasm @sebsxphia @goldenseresinretriever @bradshawssugarbaby @roosterforme @mynameismckenziemae @sarahsmi13s @hangmansgbaby

#top gun maverick #jake seresin #top gun maverick fanfiction #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x you #jake hangman smut #jake hangman fic #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin smut #top gun maverick au #top gun au #nightclub!au

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bringmemyrocks · 5 months

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I will gladly say free Palestine from the river to the sea. I do not support orgs like J Street and even IfNotNow makes me uncomfortable (literally discomfort. Not saying they're bad people. Not everything is a condemnation.)

I am not here to do PR for JVP and other antizionist orgs that do fundraising thru partnerships, but:

a) JVP is like BLM with how little the chapters that actually do things are connected to national. Some figurehead who has no control over local chapters and who local leadership don't even know should not discredit an entire network of orgs that have been doing good work for a long time. They may not be rad enough for you but they are not Zionist. If they were they'd be under the ALLMEP/JStreet umbrella with Roots and Standing Together and they very much are not.

I also can't believe this needs stating, but JVP absolutely goes to non-JVP/non-Jewish-led actions. They go to far more Palestinian-led demonstrations than they attend ones they start. They do it all the time and have since they started. I never thought to address the "JVP doesn't join coalitions" point because it's so absurd.

b) Fundraising for Palestinian orgs overseas/Palestinian solidarity orgs in general is not as straightforward as raising funds for your local food bank; there are miles of red tape and fundraising thru partner orgs is just the only option sometimes (many very good Palestinian orgs do this). Even some Israeli orgs need to do this for tax reasons (American Friends of PeaceNow, Friends of Roots, etc.)

c) if you want to go hardcore #notonormalization that's your right but please please go in with open eyes, esp if you're LGBT or an ally. It's not "left of JVP/SJP"; it's its own ecosystem and very right-wing in a lot of ways.

d) In many cities, JVP is the only Palestinian solidarity org that allows membership for people who are not students, Arabs, or Muslims. In my large city, the only other org remotely like that is PSL and that's an org with a huge barrier to entry (lots of time, money for dues, required to align with PSL's beliefs). JVP's membership fees are sliding scale, around $18/yr.

e) "JVP tokenizes Jews!" "JVP doesn't have any Jews in it" please stop swallowing Zionist propaganda; there is no truth in these statements. Just because allies are allowed to support by being members does not mean it's not a Jewish org.

f) JVP is Compromised bc Jonathan Greenblatt said he has plants in there! Yeah, your local SJP chapter probably has cops in it too. Accept that most decently impactful activist spaces may have skeevy people who slipped past your vetting process. Also JVP is very public-focused; they are not super underground. Anyone can go to a public meeting, so Jonathan Greenblatt hasn't achieved much.

Editing to add: No org is perfect, including your/my favorite one. This post never implied that. Criticize away, but please don't lie (eg "JVP is Zionist") and don't assume that social media tells the entire story.

Last edit: check my antinormalization tag for more info on this issue.

#i #i can answer more later but I promise it's not as black and white as ppl are saying #jvp #antinormalization #anti normalization

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nqify · 1 year

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faceriding hcs? like extra sloppy, messy, nasty yk. spit, slurping all the noiseeeee aaaaaaaa plsplspls!

the amount of people that actually requested this!!! it’s filling my request box lmaooo!! this is for all the ppl that wanted face riding hcs UR WELCOME

face riding headcanons. — miles quaritch ☆

pairings. na’vi!miles quaritch. fem!reader

content warnings. oral for f!reader. dirty talk. lil spit play. and ofc daddy kink duh?.

note. y’all were rlly onto smth requesting this!! I 100% headcanon quaritch to get pussy drunk!!

so we can agree on that miles loves eating pussy. he doesn’t do it for you, oh no, he does it for himself. the way your body struggles and shakes just by his tongue and fingers??? def makes go through the roof.

so when u asked him, “uh, miles, can i sit on your face?” oh this boy is going feral. he’s ears would perk up and his tail would start to wag a little, literally a dog.

bc this guy has a size kink he would love and I mean LOVE!! having you on top of him. The way ur body is so small compared to his and the fact ur struggling just to sit comfortably on his lap. HE IS IN AWE

youd be a little nervous to sit on his face, like duh?? this guy is so hot and u don’t want him to die. but he reassures you, “no, no, it’s okay mama, ride my face, c’mere”

your legs would wrap around the sides of his head, his big hands would settle on the back of your thighs, “don’t be so nervous baby, ima make u feel so good” u r purring fr

this guy is so sloppy and noisy when he eatsFR!! he’s slurping, humming and groaning in your pussy!!! “shit baby, u taste so good”

you’d be hesitant to grind on his face, only doing little movements instead, but OHNO!! this mf wants u to literally ride his face. He’d grab your thighs to lift you off his face a little to say, “mama, need u to ride my face, you can do that can’t you?? u wanna make daddy happy right?” YOU R WHIMPERING AND NODDING!!

you start to slowly grind on him, his hands having a firm grip on your thighs. you can practically hear him moaning in your pussy, “mmm so good” or or “want more, gimme more mm” GIRL!!!:&!,&,

GETS PUSSY DRUNK YEPYEP!! y’all have to listen to me on this one. miles loves ur pussy, like is in love with it. so when u ride his face, it def triggers smth in him. He starts to mumble under his breathe, he gets more vocal and I mean vocal like WHINING!!! he’s just so pussy drunk

lets just say your rlly get into it, riding him and shit and all of a sudden miles says, “fuck baby, gimme more, I want more of pussy pls” HOLY SHIT WHAT???

Now now, he will not go all subby and bottom out. That ain’t him!!! he’ll just start to get more whiney with his words, more eager to have ur pussy.

Youve already came three times now and miles still hasn’t had enough. Like I told you, he eating you out for his pleasure not yours girl!! “you can cum one more time right baby?? yeah? u can??, good girl” yeah ur cumming over and over again

cuz he’s so pussy drunk his dirty talk gets so much more hotter. Like omg, “shit mama, ur pussy is fucking delicious, gonna eat it every day, u hear me baby? gonna make ur pretty pussy such a mess for me, mm” oror when ur about to cum, “yeah keep going princess, keep grinding on my tongue, gimme ur cum baby, need it bad” He’s literally begging for you at this point.

kinda feel like miles would use face riding as some sort of punishment for you. like he’d make u sit on his face and force out every orgasm you have.

just imagine your being the biggest brat ever. Not listening to a word he’s saying and just being a big tease. This guys pulls you to your shared bed and makes u cum OVER AND OVER AGAIN!! OVERSTIMULATION KINK BRRR

he has full control over you, holding your thighs still, while overstimulating ur poor pussy!! girl u r aching rn, “had to be such a brat huh? u just wanted daddy’s attention didn’t you?? yeah that’s right, c’mon baby, cum for me”

def would spank you. ur doing smth he didn’t like, or ur going outta line, SPANK!!! just bc your on top of him doesn’t mean u get control. He wants u to let you know that ur pussy is his and his only, “who’s pussy is this baby?” he’d slap your clit a little, “yours miles!!” girl GIRL, “say that again mama, who’s pussy is this?” yours daddy

bc this guy is a messy eater he will spit on ur pussy. Like cmon now??? Ur grinding on him and all of a sudden BOOM spit on ur pussy!! he wants it to get messy and sloppy, he absolutely loves it when it runs down his chin cuz later UR LICKING THAT OFF FR!!!

hey loves!!! sooo requests are still open but only for a little while longer. send through all the stuff u can now before they close🫶🏼🫶🏼

#miles quaritch smut #miles quaritch x reader #miles quaritch #colonel miles quaritch #na’vi quaritch #na’vi smut #na’vi #avatar the way of water #avatar 2 #avatar way of water #avatar smut #avatar

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kkurades · 1 year

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˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ CANDY POP aib characters taking their childlike s/o to an amusement park (headcannons!)

hikari kuina —

- you two would be jumping around while going on all the rollercoasters there are

- you’d buy all kinds of sweets and it’s honestly a miracle that you didn’t throw up

- she’d probably have an arm wrapped around you while you waited in lines

- the two of you would go on the scariest, most extreme rollercoaster there is and you’d sit there with wide smiles and arms thrown in the air

- you’d exchange small kisses throughout the day but nothing too much though

- you would also go into the small photo booth to make cute pictures that you ended up splitting in two so you could both have two pictures

- on the way back home kuina would fall asleep on your shoulder

mira kano —

- i honestly have no clue as to how this woman does anything

- I think she’ll be cool with going on any attraction that you want to go on

- she’ll buy you some cotton candy and she’ll hold your hand all day long

- you really wanted to try out an interactive attraction so you went on the buzz lightyear astro blasters

- you’ll be laughing constantly while trying to win but unfortunately your girlfriend is a master at winning

- but if she’s in a good mood she’ll let you win

- she’ll kiss you often while smiling brightly at you

- but it’s mostly on moments where you look at her with your child like innocence

- idk why but I think she’d buy the two of you a fast pass

morizono aguni —

- aguni would have never even stepped foot into an amusement park if it weren’t for you

- he’ll let you drag him around if it made you happy

- he was very skeptical when you said you wanted to go in the bumper cars but he agreed nonetheless

- he wouldn’t want to be the one behind the wheel because he doesn’t understand the fun of it

- meanwhile you’re very happy that you get to ride while he’s your passenger princess

- my man would be mortified the moment you start moving

- you bump into everyone which made them all target you

- the two of you would get hit every second and aguni swears that he’ll never let you drive a car if this is how you actually drive

- but it’s alright because he’s ready to drive you anywhere <3

- (in the evening he’ll have to carry you to the car bc you’re that tired)

rizuna ann —

- this woman acts more like your mother than your girlfriend

- anytime you eat something and decide to go on a rollercoaster she scolds you while telling you that you’ll throw it up later

- she’ll only go on attractions that she deems interesting enough so you’ll never be able to convince her to go in the teacups or carousel

- so you’re really excited when she agrees to go on the drop tower

- but it really wasn’t as you expected lol

- while you and all the other people were screaming like crazy she was calmly sitting next to you enjoying the view of the park while you were falling at a speed of 60 miles per hour

- and when it ends your hair will be all messy while she looks like she just jumped out of a model magazine

- but you don’t really care bc she let you hold her hand during the ride

ryohei arisu —

- tbh arisu would be the perfect person to take to an amusement park in my opinion

- he’d buy you some food the moment you enter and he’d try to win you a plushie (when he doesn’t win he blames the game, telling you how it’s made so you can’t win)

- but most of the time he wins every plushie in the machine

- you’d take him to the chair swing ride which he’ll love

- when it’s your turn the two of you rush to get two chairs next to one another

- at first he’ll hold your hand really tightly because it’s higher than he expected

- but after a few seconds he’ll relax

- that is until you have your arms in the air while your feet are swinging wildly

- this man is not taking any risks and holds your hand like his life depends on it

- but he’ll look at you with heart eyes when your smiling so brightly

shuntaro chishiya —

- this man wasn’t planning on spending his day off at the amusement park but you somehow miraculously managed to convince him

- the whole day long he’d hold your hand bc ‘otherwise you’ll get lost’ even though he’s probably shorter than you

- chishiya didn’t really go on any attractions but he did buy a shit ton of food that he ate while watching you

- he honestly just followed you while whining about how childish and boring it was which saddened you slightly

- after having taken notice in the change of your mood he’ll try to make it up by taking you to the ferris wheel

- he’ll mostly just listen to you talk while having an arm wrapped around your shoulders and his thigh was pressed against your own

- at the top of the ferris wheel he’ll stop it so you could admire the view while he admires you

- won’t ever mention it again and expects you to do the same

suguru niragi —

- this man claims that he will only go on scary rollercoasters and not on attractions for six year olds

- but while you’re waiting in line to get on a very high and fast rollercoaster you’re spewing out facts about it that you read online including incidents and deaths

- and when the two of you are finally being seated in the roller coaster he’ll question all of his life choices when he thinks about your words earlier

- his eyes are darting around but this man can’t escape when you’re sitting excitedly next to him

- he grips his seat so tight that his knuckles turn completely white while his other hand is cutting of the blood circulation in yours

- then he managed to scream for two minutes straight until it ends

- and you’ll look at him with wide eyes bc he was screaming as if he’ll die any second

- after that experience he took you to less dangerous attractions and refused to go on anything that could ‘kill you’

takatora samura —

- to be honest i don’t think he’d go out of his house but i can’t just write nothing

- samura wouldn’t really like attractions and prefers staying on the sidelines watching you with adoring eyes

- but after so much begging you finally convinced him to join you on the carousel

- you’d immediately go to the horse which meant that he’d go to the horse next to yours bc you’re the only reason why he’s even there

- he wouldn’t really see the fun in it but he’d enjoy watching you talk excitedly while the colourful lights lightened your face

- while you’re sitting on the horses your fingers are linked which made him slightly blush

- that’s the only thing you’ll get him on though

- on the train ride back home you’ll be sound asleep against his shoulder which he deems as his favourite part of the day

yuzuha usagi —

- you would be walking hand in hand through the park while sharing a cotton candy when you saw the spinning teacups

- you’d drag her through the crowd of people while not letting go of her hand as she giggled behind you

- while you waited in line you’d eat the last of your cotton candy which she fed you

- when you’d actually get into the attraction you immediately reach for the wheel

- you’d spin it as fast as you could while listening to your girlfriend’s laughter

- usagi was almost sure that you’ll break the teacup when you didn’t stop spinning

- your hair would be a mess and you’d both have trouble walking out of the attraction in a straight line while giggling like school girls

- you definitely bought more cotton candy after that

©cupidsheqrt , 2022.

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omiiomiaaus · 1 year

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im sorry... im not sure if you're accepting requests so i just wanted to give u my thoughts (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ

imagine toji cant sleep. why? cuz you're sleeping right next to him and he cant keep his eyes off of u. he might be tired but he's watching as your body moves against his as you breathe and the soft feeling of your bare skin as he mindlessly caresses u. hes listening to your soft snores and he smiles at the drool at the corner of ur mouth.

hes truly head over heels 4 u and all he can think about is how grateful he is for u and how much he wants to protect u from all the bad things hes seen in the world cuz ur his sweet girl forever!! <3

thank u for listening 😌

Toji watching you sleep

This is literally the cutest shit ever oh my god I wish he was mineeeeeeee!!!!!

NOT PROOFREADING BC IM LAZYYYY

Okay so like he’d be tossing and turning until he hears your soft breathing from the other side of the bed. you’re fast asleep probably dreaming about him tbh.

He can’t help but reach over and pull you closer, chest to chest, heart to heart. Your warmth immediately easing his troubled thoughts.

His arms were wrapped firm around your sleeping form. Tired irritated eyes admiring your relaxed expression. He brought his hand to your face, pushing a stray strand of hair from out your face, his fingers ghosting over your cheek.

His fingers were calloused from all the years of having to defend himself with his hands. The same hands that battered and bruised peoples faces were privileged enough to feel your soft untouched skin. Sometimes he felt like his touch wasn’t worthy enough for you. He didn’t want to taint his sweet baby with the hands of someone who’s killed before.

But your love radiated from your heart to his soul, making him selfish, you’re his and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He’d rather hold you with his corrupted hands than have someone else, someone who could give you a normal life, hold you close like this.

Toji loves to watch you sleep. your beauty never halts for a second, even when you’re blissfully in another world while dreaming. It amazes him more, the fact that you’re unaware of the beauty you possess in such intimate moments like these.

He went from struggling to sleep because of insomnia to willingly depriving his body of rest just to watch you.

To watch the way your chest raises and falls with every deep breathe you take. The way your face twitches, probably a reaction from your dream.

He could watch you all night. He loved you so much he’d whisper it in your ear, gently kissing the top of your head.

The silence brought thoughts into his mind, thoughts of the moments you two shared. Your first kiss, your first date, your first fight. Moments he wouldn’t have wanted to share with anyone else but you. His mind and heart raced a mile per minute. He laid there under your body, hand coming up to rub his face. He looked back down at you, pure love filling his eyes.

His thoughts shifted from questions to statements.

“Does she really want to be with me forever?” “Am I really good enough for her?”

“I’m thinking too much, she’s the one, I’m sure if it, I want her in my life forever.”

Toji was not a man of many words… he kept his thoughts to himself but he’d make it known just how much he loves you. He’d protect you and cherish you for the rest of his life.

“I love you” he whispered into your hair, bringing his arms tighter around your body, stroking your hair. His heart skipped 10 thousand beats when you nuzzled into him like a little cat curling it’s body in its sleep.

It would be early morning by the time he falls alseep, 4am. The birds outside starting to chirp little wake up tunes and his mind would clear, your soft body comforting him. You’re all he needs in life, and he wants to give you the world in return for you just being you.

Man y/n’s so lucky… 😓 my inbox is open for feedback and thoughts but if you send some requests that’s fine too, I’ll get to them whenever I have time sooo if anyone wants to send me some that would be great cause I want to have more posts :) -Omi

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planetpiastri · 1 year

Note

do you know that I would be so honest to god grateful if you did the comparing hand size prompt w roosty? i just am already jaw dropped thinking about it

this blurb is brought to u by this lovely req + me watching fant4stic way too late at night bc i was in a miles mood. enjoy anon<33 | [wc - 1k]

Bradley’s arm around your shoulders was heavy and comforting, and it was all you could do to keep your eyes open and focused on the television screen. You could hear the others chatting in the kitchen, and you were pretty sure that someone had turned on the grill outside. Was that bacon sizzling you smelled?

All in all, it was a pretty normal kickback at Hangman’s.

The movie you were watching wasn’t even particularly good; it was yet another low-budget Fantastic Four remake. Fanboy had turned it on, promising everyone would be amused if not at least entertained, and fifteen minutes in he and everyone else had promptly gotten up and stopped watching. The only ones left were you and Bradley, curled up together on the couch—and you’d only stayed because to get up would be to abandon extreme comfort.

“Hey, that guy kinda looks like you,” you mumbled, squinting at the screen.

Bradley snorted, and the sound reverberated through you from the place where your back was pressed to his chest. “I don’t see it.”

“Who’s hungry?” called Payback, coming in from the back porch with Fanboy following behind. They both carried big plates that confirmed that, yes, it had been bacon you’d been smelling.

Everyone immediately swarmed the two, oohing and aahing.

“Nothing excites drunk people more than bacon,” you mumbled.

“Why is that guy made of rocks?” Bradley said.

“Get me some bacon,” you said, swatting at his arm.

“Like, why wouldn’t he just get the ability to grow rocks? Or harden his skin? Why does he have to be made of rocks?”

“Bradley!” you said, laughing and jostling him. “Bradley, bacon!”

“Okay, okay. Move.”

You shifted upright long enough for him to disentangle himself from you and stand up. Then you flopped back down onto the cushions, appreciating the leftover warmth his body had left. You pulled the blanket tighter around yourself, burrowing your nose into the soft fabric and breathing in deeply. It smelled mostly like Hangman and the aftershave he swore by, but there, buried in the fibers—Bradley’s cologne.

God, you loved that smell. It smelled like home.

“What is the deal with you two?” said Fanboy, sitting down at the end of the couch so suddenly that you yelped in alarm.

“Mickey!” you gasped, pulling your feet out from under him. “Where the hell have you been?”

“Bacon!” he replied, like that was a normal place to go during a party. “How’s the movie? Hilarious, right?”

“It’s definitely something.”

“Are you gonna answer my question?”

Your cheeks burned, and you pulled the blanket up to your nose, hoping Fanboy wouldn’t be able to pick up on your nerves. “What are you talking about?”

“You know,” he said, gesturing with a stray piece of bacon, “the deal. The carpooling, the cuddling, the sleepovers. I’ve never seen Bradley so… happy,” he said finally. He took a bite of bacon, chewing thoughtfully. “None of us have.”

You really didn’t know what to say to that. You’d never considered that there might be more to your relationship with Bradley. He was your best friend, and that was as far as you’d gotten. You’d met him fresh off a new heartbreak, and you hadn’t been eager to throw yourself towards another one. You knew him well enough to know that heartbreak was the most realistic outcome if you did get yourself involved, so you stayed away from any feelings like that, and you stayed friends.

And you were fine with that. You were happy with that.

So why the hell did Fanboy have to go and say something lovely like that and throw you off?

“Okay, budge up,” said Bradley, stepping back around the coffee table and waiting for you to sit up so that he could position himself behind you again. Once you’d settled back into his lap, he handed you a napkin delicately folded over three warm slices of bacon.

You weren’t really hungry anymore, but you didn’t want Bradley to think Fanboy had been saying anything weird, so you picked one up and took a dainty nibble.

“What the hell happened?” Bradley said, staring at the screen. “I was gone five seconds, how are they on a different planet?”

“Isn’t that the greatest part?” said Fanboy. “I was here for the last few minutes, and I don’t even know!”

“You’re not eating your bacon,” Bradley told you.

Embarrassed warmth flooded you. “I am!” you said defensively, taking a bite to prove it. “Thank you very much for getting it for me.”

“This movie completely wastes Michael B. Jordan,” said Fanboy to nobody in particular.

“You’re still not eating it,” said Bradley. “I thought you liked the crispier pieces.”

“I do!” you protested, but it was no use. Bradley was already pulling your napkin out of your hand and giving you his instead, with his juicier, fattier slices of bacon.

Then his hands stilled over yours and he said, “Have your hands always been this small and I just never noticed?”

You smiled in spite of yourself. “They are not small.”

“They’re tiny,” he insisted, setting both napkins of bacon down on the coffee table.

“They’re not!” you argued, holding them up to the light. “They are normal, proportional, human-sized hands!”

Bradley’s arm around your shoulders rose up, and one hand traced the inside of your wrist briefly. Goosebumps erupted down your arms, and you were thankful you’d decided to wear long sleeves. Then he pressed his palm flat to yours, turning it this way and that in the light, seemingly assessing whether your hands were as pitifully minuscule as he seemed to suspect.

“See,” you said, your voice sounding far away even to yourself. “Normal sized hands.”

“Hmm,” said Bradley. Then he shifted his palm by the slightest margin and pushed his fingers forward, lacing your hands together.

Electricity jolted through you, and you were sure he could feel your heart pounding. At the other end of the couch, Fanboy was staring at the tv so hard that he couldn’t have actually been paying attention.

“Yep,” Bradley said decisively. “The perfect size, I’d say.”

“You doofus,” you said, pleased warmth flooding your body. But you tucked his hand against your chest and curled against him, and you felt pretty happy to be watching a terrible movie on the couch of a party with this lovely man.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradsaw x reader #bradley bradshaw top gun #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw blurb #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw fanfic #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster imagine #rooster fluff #rooster fic #vinny's valentine's prompt party #vinny fics

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realbeefman · 8 months

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Do you have any good house fic recs? I am Struggling with my search.

for sure! although Disclaimer, i havent been reading house fanfic for very long and ive pretty much only read house/wilson so far, SO this is more of a hilson fic rec list than anything lol

Warning Signs by out_there - oneshot, 12k words, Wilson-POV, set around the end of s3. SUCH A GOOD FIC i laughed so much while reading this. genuinely delightful. possibly my fav house fic i’ve ever had the pleasure of reading.

The Line of Thought by tevinterimperium - oneshot, 12k, Wilson-POV, set after s3 e15. THEEE classic fake-dating AU. this was the first fic i read in this fandom and it absolutely fucks. im a SAP i love a good “no homo but OH GOD THE FEELINGS” plot!!

Desert Mesa Motel - 8 miles outside of Kingman, Arizona - 12:03 AM by plorp - ficlet, 1k, House-POV, post-canon. this makes me BAWL. very very good fic but SAD. and DEPRESSING. will make you CRY/pos

How Not To Be Boring by fourleggedfish - incomplete/abandoned, 497k, Wilson-POV, AU from around mid-s5. if u like whump (which i absolutely do) u will probably like this fic. if u are squicked out by sex, u will hate it bc these guys bang 24/7. this fic had me pacing, glued to my phone, sick to my stomach, crying (several times), and obliterated my sleep schedule. i can’t rec it highly enough. every chapters includes appropriate content warnings, but some major themes that appear throughout are character death (not of main characters), the aftermath of severe child abuse, and mental illness. if any of these topics are a trigger for you, please don’t read this work.

Forsake Me Here by MonsterBoyf - complete, 8k, Wilson-POV, ambiguous setting. Wilson has intrusive thoughts about mutilating House. He tries to cope. features a lot of very graphic imagery and does an excellent but extremely accurate job of portraying an OCD-spiral that could be triggering to people. i LOVE this fic i think about it so so much.

An Inconvenient Truth by anathaema - complete, 15k, House-POV, ambiguous setting. contains the quote “You’re the suicide bomber of revelations” and is one of the funniest things i’ve ever read. plus the way in which wilson’s sexuality in this fic is handled is honestly so realistic and entertaining. HIGHLY recc this to absolutely everyone who enjoys hilson

the more it took away by scribespirare - oneshot, 10k, House-POV, ambiguous setting. Omega!House has his first heat since presenting. Alpha!Wilson helps him through it. I LOVE OMEGAVERSE AND I LOVE FUCK OR DIE AND I LOVE THE WAY THIS FIC HANDLES THIS IS JUST GRAHHHH. If u don’t enjoy omegaverse u won’t like this but i can’t make a house fic rec list and NOT include this one

Aftershocks by black_cigarette - series, around 125k in total, various POV’s, set sometime post-Tritter arc. this fic IS gen, but honestly, i didn’t know that going in and didn’t realize it wasn’t a slash fic until the very end. tldr is that wilson is brutally assaulted because house has been gambling with some unsavory people, and house helps him deal with the aftermath. this fic does not pull punches. its is extremely graphic and everything wilson goes through is described in detail. it is a messy story about recovering from brutal trauma and everything that entails. DISCLAIMER: there are sequel(s) to this series available on the author’s livejournal, but i haven’t read them and can’t speak to anything they discuss.

no need to worry (making up your mind) by scribespirare - complete, 25k, House-POV, set sometime in the early seasons. House lies about having a Jewish boyfriend to get out of visiting his mother at Christmas. Things quickly get out of hand. THIS FIC IS SOOO *tears into it with my teeth*. I love when they scheme together <3

#ty for the ask!!! had a lot of fun thinking abt which fics i enjoyed the most/stuck with me the hardest #tried to provide tws for everything but if i missed anything plss call me out #house md #hilson #housefic #house md fic recs #hilson fic recs

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oldmanffucker · 3 months

Text

“-can’t believe you’re cutting it so close to your flight and you just assumed I’d drop everything and drive you to the flight you booked three hours ago on a whim.” Wilson shook his head, gripping the steering wheel and merging to the carpool lane.

“I know, foolish of me to think you’d drive me to the airport at a moments notice. You really showed me what assuming does by not driving me.” House smirked.

They were on the off ramp when House started patting his pockets.

“I forgot my passport.”

“No way. You’re kidding.” Wilson whipped his head toward House with wide eyes.

“Nope.” He popped the ‘p’. Wilson could tell he wasn’t fucking around bc House’s eyes were shut, and knuckles white around the cane between his legs.

“House! It’s 5:30, your flight boards at 6:15, and we live 15 minutes from the airport!”

“Well drive faster, and suddenly we’ll be 10 minutes from the airport.”

“You’re not going to make it, House.”

“Shut up and get back on the highway. We’ll get back in 20 minutes, it’ll take me 5 minutes to get through security because it’s a Tuesday and I’ll be there with 10 minutes to spare.”

“You can’t run!”

“Ah no, but I can limp and get the attention of the kind airport staff on the fun little carts to drive me to my gate.” House winked.

Wilson huffed, running a hand through his hair as he wove back through the airport to the highway.

“Fine. If you miss your flight I’m not driving you back home, you can call a taxi. I’m supposed to be meeting someone for dinner and I’m not going to be any later than you’ve already made me.”

“Sure, Wilson. We’ll see.” His eyes flashed mischievously. “I won’t miss my flight, but if I did I bet you’d be there to drive me home. You’re like that. You love to be needed and I’ll be the neediest cripple in a 20 mile radius, and trapped in an airport.”

“Shut up, House. Get your house key out I’m not turning off the car when we get there. And haul ass, double your dose of Vicodin after, just get back in the car before I drive away.”

They both knew he wouldn’t.

The passport was on the coffee table where house had left it, and he was back in the car fast enough that he saw the surprised lift of Wilson’s eyebrows before he schooled them back into a put upon scowl.

“You’ve got me driving like a maniac for you, House.”

“Good. You were getting a little too buttoned up for my tastes, Jimmy. Thought you might be going soft on me.”

“Shut up.”

Wilson wove through lanes of traffic, zipped down the off ramp and threw the car into park outside the first airline door at the airport.

“Good luck.” He sighed, the squint of his eye and the twitch of his fingers on the wheel betraying just how stressed he was by proxy for House.

“See ya in a couple days. And untwist your panties, Wilson, I’ll make it with plenty of time.”

He took great joy in texting Wilson 7 minutes later that he’d made it through security, and a stupidly short amount of time after that that he’d be shuttled to his gate with “plenty of time to spare” (it was 6:10)

#definitely not written in the airport after this precise thing happened to me or anything #not edited lol #ficlet #text post #house md #house #hilson #james wilson #gregory house #my post #fic

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hijinxinprogress · 6 months

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YouTuber!Stephanie

Stephanie has a youtube channel (she 100% gives it a name like gotham_after_dark or bat_interpreter) where she follows Batman and mocks him, she definitely also makes content on tiktok and instagram

She’s recording fights with rogues and him interrogating questioning people and doing voice overs in a goofiest growl she can for batman but she also does voices for everyone else (it gets to the point where penguin puts a hit out and is actively trying to expose the youtubers identity bc steph does this terrible whiny british accent when she’s imitating penguin)

She starts her channel right after Bruce fires her from Robin and still does it to this day

Bc if she’s gonna get shit for not being Tim might as well go all the way right?? She’s just doing the opposite of what Tim’s doing or outright copying him depending on which would annoy them the most

Stephanie records batman dangling some guy off a roof for the 37th time this week while going “You said the cheese on the nachos at your restaurant was imported directly from Italy but I saw you…THIS CHEESE IS FROM A GROCERY STORE…in GOTHAM… do you know what batman does to liars??”

Batman’s chasing the joker? Again? Here comes Stephanie with her fucking camera “Joker baby, you know that fight with Cobblepot meant nothing to me” “You know what, Bats? Fight whoever you want!” “Why are you going to Cobblepot’s lair with a grenade launcher? Baby…?” “Well, if the wellbeing of fucking Oswald is sooo important to you, you fucking cheater ☹️ I’m gonna kill him” “HUH” Stephanie’s joker voice is pretty good but she stops when Jason follows her channel after admitting he watches it (however Damian gives zero fucks and edits in his scarily accurate joker impression and will break into Jason’s apartment at random to do his joker impression)

Stephanie’s Duke impression is just her making puns in a bad robot voice and Duke hates it sm bc she’s saying shit like “Don’t signal for backup bc I’m already Signal-ing this ass whooping” “The yellow is the Signal for you to run” “Hey hey hey, night time is when you do this stupid shit rn is Signal Time” “The sun is my Signal to be vigilant-y” “Setting off that alarm should’ve been enough of a Signal for you stop” (Dick made tshirts and Duke refuses to talk to him when he wears them)

You legally have to be a level 79 hater to be a vigilante in gotham so most of Steph’s videos esp after Bruce has pissed her off are just her shitting on batman in a terrible growl “Damn, I’m getting too old for this…my knees hurt so much” “Nightwing thinks he’s funny, asking me if I remember the dust bowl…mf I remember the fucking big bang” “I’m so good at this, I don’t think anyone knows I’m a vampire” “Bruce Wayne owns gotham general and can’t cure Alzheimer’s?? I hate that asshole, I don’t even remember where tf I’m going” “I wanted to be Spider-Man and now I’m this” “Ooh, I’m Batman and I hate fun, happiness, and joy” “Don’t do crime, be like me…perpetually bitchless and breaking kneecaps” “Some people need coffee for a pick me up but I just need to see a purse snatcher piss their pants” “I don’t actually meld into the shadows, I just have Apple Maps and it takes me the long way”

Batman’s fighting or arguing with black mask? Stephanie has been waiting for this moment so every video with black mask is just her making fun of black mask to the point where there’s barely any batman slander “My real names fucking Roman so I had to go all out with this stupid ass costume…I’m not even a real gothamite, I’m from metropolis” “Sionis…I don’t care… you blew up thirteen hostages” “ITS NOT MY FAULT, OKAY?! Did you know you’re supposed to wash masks? Especially if you wear the same one everyday? Bc I fucking didn’t” “…Sionis…” “THERES MOLD ON MY FACE and this mask smells like ASS” “Everyone knows that, you moron…How do you think I found you? I can smell your stench from damn near two miles away…” “I’m like scary though right??” “No, Sionis, you just have poor hygiene…and issues” “Dammit, I’m like a dollar tree version of two face” “Not quite, what’s lower than that? Dollar tree is too good for you…don’t tell joker but Harvey’s way-”

Stephanie has a two hour video of batman grappling across Gotham just shitting on metropolis and sixty seven minutes of it is just Superman slander in a terrible growl

There’s short clips of cass suddenly disappearing or appearing out of nowhere before and after dismantling someone with the michael myers theme playing in the background (Cass does dramatic flips and landings every time steph records her)

When Bruce complains about the threat to their identities and compromising ongoing missions/investigations, Stephanie (who is purposely trying to piss him off) just looks him dead in eye and goes “Well, you’re not the boss of me sooo” so Tim gives a presentation and shuts down every single argument Bruce makes just to be contrary bc he’s a fucking asshole

Tim only has a problem with it when Stephanie and Damian start working together bc Damian does concerningly accurate impressions and Damian keeps making Tim sound like a fucking idiot and it’s worse bc he can mimic his speech patterns (“I can’t do this anymore… I’m sad and pasty… Call the fifth robin, you know…the only competent robin…”)

Like Damian’s repeating one of Tim’s caffeine concoction induced rants about bagels in Tim’s voice while Steph is growling at him to focus in her batman impression

When Tim brings his complaints to Bruce about Stephanie’s youtube account, Bruce cites Tim’s own argument back to him so Tim takes over editing and recording to be an asshole

#stephanie brown #spoiler dc #bruce wayne #batman #tim drake #damian wayne #duke thomas #jason todd #dick grayson #cassandra cain #dc gotham #dcu #youtuber!stephanie brown #Damian stands at the end of Jason’s bed at 3am and just does the joker laugh for no fucking reason #Damian is 100% responsible for Jason’s mental health decline #Steph does an accurate british accent but it’s still whiny bc Alfred gave her the ‘I’m not mad I’m just disappointed’ look #Stephanie’s yt channel actually makes it easier to keep their identities secret bc she uses every batman theory in her videos #Stephanie 🤝🏾 Damian: psychological warfare on their friends and family #They probably think they’re just being mildly annoying but in actuality they’ve caused 67 mental breakdowns a week

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whump-town · 2 months

Text

Scared pt.1

Trust that if I can write nothing... I can always write more about what comes post-foyet's attack. Is this very in character? no. but if you wanted that you'd go elsewhere. Instead, I offer:

Hotch doesn't just go down and when he does... it's terrifying for all involved, and the terror isn't through yet.

here's about 4k of 11k words I have (P.S. the other part has a bit of Reid and JJ but if you want Garcia you're going to have to beg and plead bc I can't write Garcia)

it's also on Ao3!

Hotch is sleeping that deep, medicated sleep when Emily sees him and it unnerves her. A full twenty-four hours has not passed since the time she saw him last and he looks damn near like a stranger. John Doe, she vouches, is Aaron Hotchner but as she looks at their John Doe and thinks abouts the Hotch she’d seen just a little while ago on the jet… it feels impossible. He sleeps so utterly still, like a corpse surrounded by medical equipment. Pale and still in a completely unnerving way.

Claiming to know the weak, incapacitated man means immediate paperwork. Suddenly, there’s a doctor standing in between Emily and her view of Hotch. It’s quite scary now to not have him in her sights, as if he will disappear again. The doctor is talking about the first surgery — there’s a tube and drains — the strain it placed on Hotch’s heart. Emily looks straight at Hotch, hearing but unwilling to feel anything as the doctor tells her that Hotch’s heart is weak. Weak? Emily shakes her head and the doctor keeps talking. They are watching him closely, the next twenty-four hours are critical. Emily’s still caught up on Hotch’s weak heart.

Maybe this man isn’t Hotch at all.

Emily never considered anything about Hotch weak. His problem is that he is too strong. He can physically endure the storm, the only living, standing thing for miles and so that makes him think that he has to. Because he can do it by himself, he must. It makes him selfish, guarded, and lonely. It does not make him unfeeling. He’s always there with his hands balled into fists, his eyes wet with tears he won’t let fall. His voice betrays him, breathy from strain. He feels, there’s no denying it, but Hotch will try. His body will fail him long before his heart.

Some of the doctor’s previous words come back to Emily as she approaches Hotch’s room. From here she can see the tubes running underneath the thin blanket across his chest. Iodine stains his skin in swipes, thick gauze visible beneath his gown. His face is utterly expressionless and Emily’s throat feels tight, her eyes darting to the floor.

Weak, huh... Emily pulls a chair up beside him. She glances again at his face which is so pale, her eyes dart to his hand, he probably feels as cold as he looks stiff.

Emily pulls in a slow breath, forcing herself to shake off this unsteady feeling. It’s more than fair; it’s definitely someone else’s turn to be strong for a while. He’s done a good job and held the burden long enough. Restlessly, Emily picks at her fingers. Her hand comes to her teeth, peeling away stubborn bits of her skin until her middle finger is bleeding and her pointer finger stings. On the bed, Hotch's finger twitches. Everytime Emily looks up at it and then at his face, waiting for an expression to cross his blank features, and everytime nothing.

A nurse steps in preparing his next round of medications and Emily stands silently and leaves the room.

To her annoyance, it is the moment she is not there to see his finger twitch that Hotch’s eyes manage to crack open. There’s an intense pressure over the right half of his chest and some machine in the distance sputters out a shrill alarm that irritates the tinnitus in his bad ear. He tries to turn his head, get away from the noise, but the canal under his nose is pinched to his cheek and the plastic hurts. The sound is making his ear hurt and finding his arms immobile, Hotch lets out a panicked grunt. He moves his head uselessly on the bed, a deranged, raw panic overtaking him.

“Hotch.”

Emily Prentiss. His eyes lock onto her, a single raft in the middle of the ocean. A familiar face. He flinches from the doctor, pulling in another ragged, scared breath from his straw-like throat, but Prentiss is standing right by the bed. She is comforting enough for that part in the back of his brain alight with terror, seeking to flee, to ease. She is easy to focus on hovering so close, he feels safer with her here. Scary and strong, she’ll protect him. He’s distracted enough that the doctor is able to slip her cold stethoscope under his gown. She instructs him to breathe, deep breath, but Hotch’s eyes are on Prentiss. It feels like days since he’s seen someone familiar, though he hasn’t a clue how long has passed since right now and… whatever came before.

The doctor speaks to Prentiss and she stands there at the end of the bed, eyes locked with Hotch, while the doctor’s words go in one ear and out the other. One of the machines begins to make a new sound, liquid being moved and another dose of medications snaking through the tubes into the I.V. taped to the back of Hotch’s hand. His head tilts on the pillow, eyes struggling to stay open. She watches his fingers twitch and he moves his head uselessly fighting sleep.

The doctor leaves and Emily hesitantly, watching Hotch watch her, takes her seat back at his side. “You need to rest,” she repeats the doctor’s sentiments.

Hotch has no verbal response, just a terribly slow blink.

Not bold enough to take his hand, Emily places her hand at the end of his, their fingers grazing. “The other’s will be here soon, rest.”

His finger twitches against hers and he exhales slowly, lips hardly moving and distorting the words he mumbles incoherently. He’s asleep in an instant, pulled back under. For a moment, the creases of pain remain claw-footed in the corners of his eyes, down the sharp lines between his eyebrows. All that time before spent wishing for something from him is all gone, Emily can’t tear her eyes away from the lines.

He pulls in a deep breath and they ease away.

The sounds of the room are never ending. Lights blink back feedback that Emily can’t understand, things hiss and churn and move. Emily has nothing to do but think. Should she be grateful it’s not worse? But how much worse can it really get? Hotch isn’t dead… yet. That’s worse but that might just be next. Doesn't make much sense to be grateful for what hasn’t happened when it might merely be hours away. She can be angry but she can’t do anything. She can cry but she doesn’t even feel like doing that. So she sits. Thinks.

Emily flinches when her phone vibrates in her pocket and she rises quickly as her adrenaline does, moving from the room to the hall in anxious anticipation for the team to arrive. Still, Hotch remains in her sight. Happy to let someone else take charge, Emily stands on the edge of the group as the other’s step into Hotch’s room. They haven’t had the opportunity to see him yet but Hotch’s eyes open to slivers and Emily can feel their hazy focus gather on her. She’s quick to move, eager to make use of the words like whispers leaving his dry lips. Until she’s holding his bloody clothing, clothes she’d just seen him in, dried stiff.

The other’s leave to get Haley and Emily watches them from the end of Hotch’s bed.

“Prentiss.”

“Hmm?” Emily turns slowly back to face Hotch, not sure she can manage to keep her own expression level. Not when looking at him like this makes her stomach hurt.

“You were at my apartment? Could you tell how he got in?”

Emily slowly shakes her head, “I couldn’t.”

Hotch nods solemnly, as he stares up at the ceiling.

“Do you want to talk about what happened?”

He clears his throat, eyes lowering to find her, “I don’t know. After he stabbed me the first time it all goes blank.”

Liar. She’s not certain what he does remember but he’s lying about it. He remembers something well enough to wake him in a panic, instantly obtaining attention from a nurse or doctor. She hasn’t seen it but she’s not stupid, Emily’s aware of what’s happening. And he’s looking at her now, fully expecting her to let it go, knowing she won’t call his bluff.

“If you do,” Emily offers, with a shrug.

Hotch cracks the driest, faintest smile. Graciously, he’s been given a momentary pass and it makes Emily smile too. If there’s anyone anymore who might poke and prod the information from him it is probably her. And it scares him at the same time it relieves him. Because Emily isn’t just saying it, this won’t leave her mind until it leaves his. She’s judgemental as hell but she understands, maybe more than he wants her to.

The energy is off but Emily tries to find comfort in silence. It’s usually easier, anyone who spends time with Hotch has to be used to a little silence. He’s not much of a talker himself, unless inhibited by alcohol or anytime he hasn’t got to be in slacks. Or… a hospital gown. Hotch has got to be comfortable and he’s clearly not. It’s easy to be comfortable in silence because when Hotch is comfortable it just feels comfortable. Safe. Easy. Hotch feels like none of those things right now and Emily can’t either.

He’s stripped down to his raw skin, no armor in sight, just a weak man, tired and confused by the countless medications fighting his body to live and manage his pain.

It feels wrong to even look at him like this. Emily’s seen him in jeans, Aaron with hair astray from the toddler sitting on his shoulders gripping it for dear life. She’s seen him drink himself a little silly, criss-crossing his long legs while he walks like a crane in deep water without any of the grace. But that was a choice. He’d cried, smiled, and been exhausted before but everytime that was a choice. Even knowing him without the armor, it feels wrong to see him without when she knows he wants it.

If there weren’t medications muddling his blood and keeping his heart calm, it would certainly ache more than it does now. Without full access to feeling, Hotch can’t even find it within himself to be embarrassed. Later, it will come later.

She watches him try and turn his head, uncomfortable in a way neither of them can identify. “Do you–” Emily moves anxiously, “do you want to sit up?”

“Please,” he whispers, turning his head back to her.

When the bed moves he flinches and the combined motions make him stiffen and suck in a breath that he holds. Emily stops the bed but he shakes his head and silently he’s thankful she understands and the bed keeps rising until he’s sitting up.

Boredom was better than what comes next. Emily looks everywhere but at Haley as she comes down the hall, Derek directing her into the room. Jack goes to Dave who distracts him quickly and effortlessly. Emily looks at the floor, counting linoleum tile to keep her distracted. Otherwise, all she’s got to think about is her possibly dying friend and the ex-wife and child he’s sending to witness protection.

Haley leaves with Jack on her hip and Emily stands, hands anxiously twisting together. She feels panic for Hotch, watching them leave. Her heart pounds in her chest, fear makes her hands shake at her sides, as she watches them leave wondering if they will ever come back.

Valiantly, uselessly, Hotch tries to fight off his fear. He jerks himself awake every few hours, sucking in tight breathes and eyes darting around. Foyet’s name isn’t far from his lips and Hotch sits vigilantly unconvinced that Foyet isn’t the door’s shadow across the wall or the stuffed bear in the windowsill. Nothing can be done to soothe his irrational fear. Dave tells him that he’s safe, and holds his hand. Derek sits by the door, facing whatever comes in. Emily is hiding in a shadow, the only comfort he can truly find. This feels safe, having her hiding in the same domain as Foyet. Let the man show his face, he’ll find someone much scarier waiting for him.

Hotch is in no position to make decisions for himself. However tired but lucid he was worsens as Haley and Jack leave. Fat tears roll down the sides of his face, his words are breathy, weak. He’s scared and lonely, a little clingy.

“Em’ly?”

She sees the pulse ox out of the corner of her eye, doesn’t hear him call her, and she moves to his side close to the hand he’s moving around vaguely. “We’re just going down the hall,” she tells him because she’s already explained twice that he’s going to surgery. His surgical team has already been down, they’ve told him this. But he’s confused and agitated and terrified, so Emily is given permission to come as far as she can. That means sitting in the hall, waiting to move Hotch once he’s asleep, less likely to be alarmed by the changes in his environment. “Rest,” she says, placing her hand over his.

He’s asleep by the time they are ready and his eyelashes bat as he’s put under. Emily grabs his hand when he moans, turning his head fitfully, and with an exhale he relaxes again.

His sleep is black, soundless, and then he is in that car, the smell of cheap cologne burning his nose. Foyet’s singing along to the radio, drumming his hands on the wheel and singing off-key to Guns N’ Roses. Bloody, wet hands come from the darkness, blurry eyes peer over surgical masks saying words to him in morphed muttered languages. Fingers take hold of him, arms lift his limp body and his eyes are rolling back into his head. He’s conscious and not, he feels dead. Floating. A thumb presses on his jaw and a feral part of his brain clamps his teeth together. His mouth is pried open and his breath restored, cold solid oxygen sitting in his balloon lungs. He’s limp, his oxygen deprived body greedily taking what it’s given. Hotch is taken right back to the car, ends up swarmed and overtaken by the hands. The dream is fitful and never ending.

Dave goes with the doctor, the first to take in the news. Hotch’s heart stopped again and he’s still intubated to try and alleviate the strain on his heart. Watching Hotch’s chest move with breaths a machine takes brings tears to Dave’s eyes. It’s hard to not believe something right in front of you but Dave does it. Hotch had never been that youthful, bright-eyed rookie. He’d come hardened and strong, too strong for his own good. Dave had thought it would get him killed but it seemed that never knowing when to back out of a fight has been the only thing keeping Hotch alive. That’s all Dave has now, hope in the man who has never figured out how to back down. The ICU has different rules and no sooner than Dave’s ten minutes is up, before he can even get off the floor, his phone is ringing. There’s a case in Oregon.

Hotch is by himself when he wakes twenty-five hours later. Medicated cocktail weighing him down, he was only vaguely present through the veil. He can’t be certain he’s actually awake, that he’s not just swept up in another dream. He gags weakly around the tube in his throat. Tears roll down the corners of his eyes and he fights perilously against the doctors. He shifts in and out of consciousness, medicated calm keeping him from fighting the machines helping him, and his drug-addled brain conjures visitors from the shadows of the room.

Dave is there six hours later when the doctor removes the tube, in the corner of the room while Hotch coughs, gagging and stiffening in pain. He cries for Haley with a voice and throat too raw to make more than rasps. But fat tears leave his eyes, his lips form her name soundlessly, persistently until his eyes are rolling back into his head before his eyes have fully closed.

In his sleep, Hotch cries. He makes small, hurt sounds and whimpers, recoils from fears only he can see.

“What’s wrong man?”

Hotch’s blurry vision slowly settles on Morgan, “mm?”

“Something bothering you?” Morgan frowns when Hotch moves his head again. Hotch’s clarity is sharpest in the hour before his next dose of pain medication, when the pain is the clearest. It’s been only twenty minutes since the most recent dose, Morgan had watched Hotch go from restlessly sedated in his slumber to limp, melted into cot below him. Steadily for the last five minutes Hotch has been making little agitated noises in sleep, now his eyes are open and he’s moving uncomfortably.

Morgan is ready to give up when Hotch turns to him, and he steps closer, ready to be beckoned any which way at just a rasp from Hotch.

“Hurts…” he mouths.

“Do you want to sit up?” Morgan asks. He hates not being able to help. He hates sitting here not able to do a damn thing. “I can sit the bed up.”

Hotch nods. He turns his head away, pulling harsh breathes audibly, lips twitching with pain he’s barely hiding. “Wanna go home,” he grunts, panting. “Please,” he whines, turning and hitting Morgan with the full force of gut-wrenchingly teary, pathetic eyes.

Morgan’s done this job before, sitting by Hotch’s beside, but typically Haley is near. He just covers for a short while, waiting for her to come back and soothe Hotch back to himself. Morgan had tried but he had learned long ago he needed to stick keeping Hotch occupied with games or being the muscle needed to assist. “I can’t,” Morgan strains out. “I would,” he lies, because right now he just might, but as quickly as he’d do anything to make the tears stop, the idea of Hotch being home scares him far more right now.

Hotch sucks in a sob, turning his head in shame to hide, even if Morgan can see his lips pulled up and more tears squeezing out of his shut eyes.

“We can go outside,” Morgan offers, though he’s not certain. But the idea gets Hotch’s attention and Morgan will bat his eyelashes and flirt with however many nurses or doctors, man or woman, it takes to make it possible. “I’ll be right back,” he whispers, squeezing Hotch’s arm.

It takes minimal eyelash batting to get a wheelchair. The nurse out in the hall is happy to see that Hotch’s visitors have returned and she’s willing to see a whim out. He does better with visitors. She had attributed most of his restlessness and somberness to being more alert, perhaps just more himself. But she can see a difference. Hotch watches her with sad but hopeful eyes as she moves medical equipment out of their way, she can tell that he is more himself with his friends nearby.

It is not that the roles usually go Morgan in the wheelchair and Hotch pushing but it does feel like roles have been swapped. It makes more sense for Hotch to be the assistance not the assisted, it’s difficult for Morgan to make peace with. But this is what it is.

“The grass.”

Morgan obeys, turning the wheelchair off the path and into the grass. He stops it just a few feet from a bench, pushing the brakes down. “You up for a walk?” he asks, stepping around the side and watching Hotch gingerly lift and lay his feet in the grass. “Where are your socks?” He doesn’t know how he didn’t notice it earlier but now fire burns in chest at the sight, heating up his face. All Hotch does is shiver, every moment of all day. He comes in and out of pain but constantly he’s cold.

Hotch ignores him, moving his hands to prepare to stand like he’s capable of summoning enough stubbornness to get himself out.

Morgan offers support silently. Again, he’s familiar with this. He knows good and well the only way Hotch will take his shoulder to lean on is if they are silent. Morgan has had to catch Hotch from falling, he knows that if he says anything Hotch will simply push him away and choose to fall.

Bare feet on the cold ground eases something in Hotch more nagging and persistent than the pain. He’d grown up running around without shoes, tracking his muddy footprints on his mother’s scrubbed hardwood. As painful as it is to stand, Hotch bares through it because it feels amazing. He’s not ready to give it up.

“I forget you’re a good ol’ boy,” Morgan chuckles and immediately his eyes dart to Hotch, not certain his comment won’t end in Hotch laying in the grass. He receives a warning, narrowed eyes. But in all fairness, Morgan grew up in the city. He wasn’t walking anywhere barefoot, he still wouldn’t. “You can’t go anywhere without shoes in Chicago,” he says and Hotch allows the slight distraction as he drags himself through walking. “Nails and needles and–” the list goes on and Morgan shakes his head thinking about it. “I don’t understand the appeal. Sticks, bugs, and what’re those plants called with the needles? I’ve seen ‘em in the grass, man, why would you chance stepping on one of those?”

Hotch’s response is a puff, he clearly has an opinion but he can only focus on one thing at a time.

They say nothing on the bench. Morgan watches the breeze move the tree leaves, pleasantly warmed by Hotch proximity.

Leaning into Morgan, too weak to even hold himself upright, Hotch finds himself unable to escape his curiosity. “Why are you here?” The breeze nearly sweeps up his question and for a moment he thinks Morgan hasn’t heard him. Morgan moves his arm around Hotch’s shoulder, carefully pulling his blanket tighter and only then does Hotch realize he’s shivering.

“You hate hospitals,” Morgan says, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. It is the truth so maybe it is. “You’ve never left me alone in a hospital,” he says to the foliage and then he turns, looking at Hotch. “You’ve never left any of us.” Maybe he hasn’t personally been there but everytime Hotch has been in the field, doing the hard work, so that they can have visitors when they’re hurt or sick. Everytime, always. And when the job is done, when things are truly safe again, Hotch will show up. It’s never been more apparent than now.

“It’s late,” Hotch says stupidly and Morgan laughs and looks at him with this sad look that even mind-boggled Hotch knows means Morgan is keeping silent for his sake. That he could say something that would be emotional and very telling about Hotch in a way that he most definitely doesn’t want to hear. Certainly not right now.

The truth is easy, Hotch asked. Not recently but years ago now, when the only people who showed up at the hospital were Morgan and Haley. His ghosts were different then but Morgan didn’t need to know their names, he just wanted to help. The request had come from Haley and Morgan has been with Hotch every night he’s spent in the hospital that Morgan has known of. He’d sit in the doorway of every hospital room until one or both of them dies, everytime. Nothing would change that.

“Thank you,” Hotch says, loudly, clear.

Morgan scoffs. It’s the first he’s heard Hotch sound like himself, voice and all. He reaches for Hotch’s cold hand, hospital bracelets scratching his skin, “always, man.”

When they return to the room, Hotch sleeps for the first time unbothered. Morgan sits by the door anyway.

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #derek morgan #haley hotchner #george foyet #emily prentiss #david rossi

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