#hi I just had 2 wisdom teeth pulled

[sunkissedlouis]

.

[tragedybunny]

A Little More Than a Nibble - Astarion x F!Reader

Astarion wakes you up at camp looking for a late night snack. You both end up with something a little more. (Fluff, Angst)

Yes I'm on the Astarion train. How can you not love him?

This short is set before Astarion's act 2 confession

Something called to you from the dark, stirring you out of sleep. Fragments of the waking world brushed against your consciousness; a dying fire, a far off owl calling, a presence hovering over you. The cold influx of terror lasts only a moment as you realize the presence is not only familiar but expected at this point. “Are you awake darling?” Astarion’s voice exudes the beguiling charm that’s become so familiar to you, familiar enough you’ve started to catch the hint of artifice that lays behind it.

Sleep-heavy eyes drift open to find him kneeling down next to you, red eyes fixed on you. The deep slumber is hard to shake off and your answer is no more than a drowsy whisper. “I am now.”

“Oh apologies my sweet but I was just wondering if…” He lets the words hang for a moment, waiting for your mind to catch up, to finish the implication. Really though it could only be about one of two things since you’re the one in camp that’s been both fucking and feeding him. And with the ungodly hour, you can easily conclude which it is.

“No luck hunting?” He deserves at least a little teasing for waking you like this.

“Actually I was thinking about you and couldn’t get the taste of you off my tongue. Would you mind terribly if I had just a little taste, just a slight nibble?” Perhaps you’ve been too indulgent with him and he’s grown used to getting his way with you, a habit you really should put to an end. If only the mere suggestion of those teeth at your neck didn’t make you quiver with excitement.

Still, it won’t do to placidly let him have his way every time. “You say slight nibble, and I wake up woozy the next morning. I fail to see what I get out of this little arrangement.”

For a moment, you think you see the slightest hint of hurt at your refusal, before he swiftly resumes his flirtatious persona. “Why, you get my gratitude and affection. Both of which are undying, I might remind you.”

It’s not the honeyed words that convince you, it’s the ghost of an emotion, the possibility of vulnerability, that there’s something beneath the mask he shows everyone, even you. Not that you would really refuse, you’re too far gone for that. Life as the daughter of a noble house of Baldur’s Gate primed you for this, to fall for a man so wrong, and dangerous, and not at all anything you should want. Rebellion after years of complicity, years of forced perfection and crafted smiles, of doing everything expected of you. The Illithid ship had given you a terrible burden, but it had also been more freedom than you’d ever known in your life. Freedom that didn’t necessarily come with inbuilt wisdom. Silently, you throw back the covers, beckoning him into the bed roll beside you. With a satisfied smile, he gracefully slides in, body pressed against yours.

The first time you’d let him do this it had been awkward, sloppy almost, a fact explained by the later revelation you were his first. Now familiarity has led to comfort, intimacy of its own sort. Different than just sex, but no less thrilling. An arm around your waist, he buries his head into the crook of your neck, lips brushing up against it in a gentle kiss first that makes you shiver before the bite.

The sharp ice of those teeth piece your skin and drive into the blood flowing in your veins. Then you feel it, the echo of your blood flowing into his veins. It had frightened you the first time but now it sends a wave of bliss through you. An involuntary sigh escapes you and you know if his mouth wasn’t full, he’d be tormenting you for how much you enjoy it. Arms loop around his shoulders, pulling him tighter against you, as though you are begging for more. You are though aren’t you? You can’t get enough of this, of him.

Drifting away, you lose yourself in him, a sweet surrender to an inexorable pull. As promised though, he’s only taken a taste when he lets up, pulling away, and licking any drops from your skin. The control he’s starting to show is impressive, even if it leaves you yearning for the strange connection of his feeding. Knowing that he never lingers after any encounter between the two of you, you unwrap your arms which feel so much heavier now, letting him go. Unexpectedly, he remains, head now resting on your chest, forehead pressed to your cheek. “Not going to eat and run?”

“In such a hurry to be rid of me?” He murmurs, his face hidden so you don’t even have a chance of reading his expression.

You’re not naive, despite what the others might believe. There’s nothing more you expect beyond what already passes between the two of you. Even if you believe you could care for him, he’s not open to you that way. Still, even if the tone is nonchalant, you feel there’s a loneliness behind it he's not quite hiding all the way. “I didn’t say that.” He doesn’t ask directly to stay and you know he won’t, so you pull the covers over the two of you and put your arms back around him and without saying another word.

With a subtle shift, you feel him get near your throat once again before stopping himself. “Perhaps I should go.”

“You don’t have to, I trust you.” Tentatively, you reach a hand up and softly stroke it through his silver hair. First he tenses, and you wait for a reproach for being too tender with him, but none comes. A moment later and you feel the tension release and he relaxes again. Your eyes are heavy, your body desperately craving sleep, but you're afraid there will never be another moment like this, with him so close, and not pushing you away. So you fight to stay conscious, and keep your fingers moving gently as long as he allows it. Sleep comes to claim you again though, and just as the world fades around you, lips brush your collarbone and the arm around your waist holds a little tighter.

The dawn comes, and the camp stirs. When you find the empty space in your bed roll, you tell yourself your heart doesn’t break a little and get ready to get on with your day.

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

What's Your Favorite Color?

Simon Riley x Reader

Synopsis: After mutual feelings were discovered, you are invited back to Simon's room for some tea.

This is kind of a part 2 to Words of Wisdom, but it can be read on it's own!!

Warnings: SMUT!!! Pure smut, p in v sex, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, creampie. MDNI!!!!!!!!!

A/N: I have some requests I am working on, but as always feel free to send some my way! Thanks for all the support guys! :)

"What’s your favorite color?” You asked as you moved to sit cross-legged on Simon’s bed, taking a sip from the tea he had just made for the two of you.

“I just kissed you, and invited you to my room to drink tea, and that’s the first thing you ask me?” Simon's brows raised slightly, and a smirk started to form on his face.

“What should I be asking you? What’s your shoe size?” You joked, swatting him on the arm playfully.

“Sometimes I do wonder what goes on in that head of yours.” He moved just in time to dodge the second swat from you.

“Right now, I’m just thinking that I’d like to kiss you again.” You admitted meekly, tucking a loose hair behind your ear. 

“What about the tea?” He replied, his smirk growing.

“Screw the tea.” You set yours and his tea on his night stand, and threw yourself into him, placing your lips on his.

“I take my tea very seriously, love.” He deadpanned, pulling away to nip at your chin.

Rolling your eyes, you pulled him down so he was laying over the top of you on his bed. Leaning up to kiss him again, you threaded your fingers through his hair, and pushed down lightly to pull his face closer to yours. Simon groaned at the action, and his hands wandered to lay on your waist giving it a firm squeeze. He let his tongue swipe your bottom lip, and you opened your mouth to allow him access. His tongue slid over yours, massaging the muscle before exploring the rest of your mouth. 

You pulled on his hair, pulling Simon away so you could place a kiss on his Adam's apple. You traced your lips along the side of his neck, nipping at the skin lightly before smoothing your tongue over the skin. You looked at the small bits of purple that were starting to form on his neck and grinned. 

“You’re lucky I can cover these up.” He said looking down at you. The smirk on his face had vanished, and was replaced with something darker.

“Lucky am I? Why’s that? Maybe I wanted people to see those marks.” You chided, leaning back up to kiss him.

“You want marks to show off? I can give you that.” Simon dipped his head down and nipped harshly at your exposed collarbone, licking tantalizingly slow across the broken blood vessels. You moaned at the contact as you returned your hands to his hair and gave it a firm tug.

“Y/N, love. Look at me.” Simon put his finger under your chin to lift your gaze to him. “I don’t want you to feel pressured for this. I need to know this is what you want.”

“Simon, I already told you I have wanted you for years. I think we’ve both waited long enough for this.” You breathed, looking deeply into his dark eyes.

This was all the confirmation he needed, and he met your lips with a new ferocity. The kiss was a clash of teeth and tongue as the two of you tried to pull one another impossibly close.

He returned his lips back to your collarbone, leaving softer bites as he trailed down your shoulder. He lifted you up slightly so that he could remove your shirt. Moving his hands to cup at your breasts through your bra, he kissed the divet between them before shoving his head in between them, licking up and down at the skin there. He reached behind your back and unclasped your bra, freeing your breasts.��

“God, you are so fucking beautiful.” He murmured, throwing your bra to a corner of his room. He dove back in, latching his mouth back onto your hard nipple, swirling his tongue around the bud, while massaging the other breast. You moaned loudly, and arched your back to push yourself closer to him.  He moved to the other breast, continuing the same mouth movements as he had on the other.

You felt yourself growing impossibly wet, and started to whine softly as he moved his mouth slowly down your body. He practically ripped your pants off, and wasted no time in removing your panties either. Looking up at you, the smirk from earlier had returned, before he dove in between your legs. Light kisses were placed on the insides of your thighs, and he moved his face to line up with your heat. He blew air on your cunt, and you couldn’t help the whine that emitted from your lips.

“Simon, please.” you cried out, throwing your head back onto the pillows.

“Please, what? Use your words.” He teased, continuing to blow air on your most sensitive region.

“God please, please put your mouth on me.” You begged, moving your hands back to his hair and tugging harshly.

“Good girl.” He immediately latched his mouth on your clit, and sucked. You moaned his name loudly, and tugged harder on his hair earning a growl from him. He stretched his tongue out, and flicked it back and forth on your bud at a brutal pace. Sensing you were enjoying yourself, he moved his tongue down further, and lapped as much of your juices as he could. 

“God you taste fucking amazing.” He mumbled as he stuck his tongue in your entrance.

To say you were a mess was an understatement. He was tongue fucking you to oblivion, and all you could do was grind your wet pussy against his face. Simon, clearly enjoying your movements, decided to add to your pleasure by adding one of his fingers into your hole, while moving his mouth back to your clit. 

His finger went at a deliciously slow pace, his fingering, mixed with the ministrations of his tongue, had you seeing stars. The sounds that were coming from his mouth were obscene, and you were clearly more wet than you had thought as each time his finger moved in and out of your pussy, the quelching was all that could be heard. 

“Be a good girl and cum in my mouth, yeah?” He asked, moving his mouth to lick up and down the entirety of your heat.You nearly came right there at his words, and moved to grind your pussy even harder against his face. He stuck his tongue back out to flick against your bud as fast as he could, and added a second finger. You felt the coil in your belly snap, your thighs squeezing around his head and you silently screamed, as your first orgasm ripped through you. 

He laid between your legs for a few moments after your high, licking up all you had to offer him. As he pulled away he wiped your mess off his face, a smile growing on his lips. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that to you.”

It took a moment for you to catch your breath, and when you did, you pushed Simon down so he was lying on his back. Climbing over him, you got to work undressing him. Once his shirt was off, you looked at his chiseled abs, admiring his body. Scars had littered his skin, and you bent down to run your tongue on each one you could find. You could hear his breath hitch as you got closer to the waistband of his bands, and in one solid stroke, they were off.

Seeing the outline of his cock in his boxers, you grew excited. He was bigger than you had expected, which shouldn’t have been surprising to you. You turned your eyes to him with a sultry look, as you slowly peeled off his boxers freeing his cock.

“God you’re so gorgeous Simon.” You cooed, as you dipped your head down to place a kiss on his shaft. Closing your eyes, you grabbed him in your hand and moved to lower your mouth on him, tongue swirling at the precum on his tip.

“Fucking shit.” He growled, his hands coming to tangle in your hair.

You smiled around his cock, and started to bob your head up and down, while running your tongue alongside his shaft. You could fit the majority of him in your mouth, gagging slightly when his tip hit the back of your throat. You continued to deep throat him best you could, while you moved your hands to cup his balls and massage slowly. 

“Oh my go-god. Y/N.” He moaned, as he pushed your head down slightly for you to take more of him in your mouth.

Growing rather confident at how much of a mess you were making of him, you quickened your face, bobbing your head up and down, and allowing the tip of his cock to hit the back of your throat each time.You moved your hand to his shaft to cover what you couldnt with your mouth and continued to run your tongue along his shaft with each up and down motion of your mouth.

Simon’s breathing started to quicken, and you could tell he was close. “I’m gonna c-cum.” He groaned, before his dick pulsed in your mouth, painting the back of your throat with ropes of cum.

Pulling yourself away from his cock, you made eye contact with him as you swallowed, and licked your lips. You gave him a devious smile, which in reply he grabbed your waist and threw you back down underneath him.

“You are a fucking minx, do you know that?” 

“Only for you, sir.”

He laughed at that, before bending down to kiss you again. Resting his forehead against yours he kissed your cheek softly as he felt in between you to line himself up with your entrance.

“Let me know if you want to stop.” He looked at you with a serious expression, and you nodded moving up to place your lips on his again.

He pushed his hips forward, and slowly entered you. The two of you moaned loudly, and Simon rested his forehead against yours once more. The stretch was unbearable at first, the burning almost too much for you, as it felt like he was splitting you open.

“Oh my god.” You cried out, your breathing became fast. As the initial pain subsided, you looked to Simon and nodded, giving him the okay to move.

He pushed all the way in, before pulling back out completley. You looked at him and were about to make a comment before he smirked, and thrusted back into you fully, filling you completely. You gasped and your arms flew around his back, nails digging into his shoulder blades.

He started at a slow pace, and looked down in between the two of you to see your pussy swallowing his length whole. He grew addicted to the sight and slowly started to pick up the pace, never taking his eyes away, until he heard a squeak come from you.

Wanting a deeper angle, he lifted your legs, and pushed them as far as he could toward you. Simon nearly came at the sight of the bulge that was now evident in your stomach from him.

His pace quickened, and all that could be heard was the slap of skin against skin, and the wetness of your pussy. 

His pace was brutal. The sounds of your moans filled the room, and you could hardly catch your breath. It seemed there was no end to Simon's stamina as he relentlessly pounded into you.

“S-Simon, let me ride y-you please.” You begged, placing your hands against his chest. When he stopped his movements, you moved to flip the two of you around, and sank down on his cock. 

“Fuck, I could die in this moment and be the happiest I’ve ever been” He groaned, throwing his head back on the pillows.

Smiling to yourself, you began to move your hips slowly, teasing him. He reached up to grab one of your nipples and pinched it hard. You squealed at the motion and started to bounce up and down on his cock. Trying to get a better angle, you leaned back slightly and laid your hands on his thighs behind you. Simon moved his hand to your heat, and he used the pad of his thumb to circle your clit. You moaned loudly, and your hand flew to one of your breasts to play with the flesh there.

The sight was glorious for Simon, watching you ride him, while your tits bounced, he was so close to his second orgasm. He leaned up and pulled you close to him, shoving his face into your tits while running his hands alongside your back.

“Fuck baby, I’m almost there cum with me.” He begged, thrusting his hips up to meet yours. 

You cried out as his cock hit just the right angle, and your second orgasm of the night hit you. His grip on your back tightened, as your pussy squeezed him just hard enough to trigger his own high. He groaned loudly as his cock pulsed inside you, painting the inside of your walls with his cum.

The two of you sat like that for a while, breathless and staring into each other's eyes. A small smile formed on his face as he leaned forward to place his lips on yours. “Hate that I could’ve had you for years now. I was a fool to not say anything sooner.” He admitted, kissing your nose.

“Makes two of us, but we are here now.” You moved your hand to stroke his cheek softly.

“That we are. Let me go get something to clean us up, yeah?” He stood, placing you back on the bed as he went to go get a cloth to clean you.

Later that night after another round of tea, you felt yourself growing tired. You moved to go grab your shirt, to which Simon batted your hand away. “None of that, you’re staying here tonight.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to overstep.” You said sheepishly. You were worried that Simon may have not wanted you to spend the night. This was so new for the both of you, and you were worried about doing something to push Simon away.

“Think we are past that, love. You’re mine now. Now get back in that bed, and let’s get some sleep, yeah?”

As you laid in bed with you being held close to Simon, he was stroking your hair softly. You could feel yourself drifting off to sleep before you heard him mutter, “Green”

“Sorry?”

“My favorite color, it’s green.”

You bit back a smile before placing a light kiss on the hand that was wrapped around you.

The two of you had gotten the best sleep that night that either of you had gotten in years.

-------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Second time writing smut so still trying to figure out my writing. Hopefully you guys enjoyed this!!! :)

[ladykailitha]

Grief (A Friend Indeed) Part 5

Thank you for all the great responses to this story it really means a lot.

Now they are doing a singing thing in this chapter, it's not that chapter yet. This is a prelude to that. Plus, I wanted to have Steve sing "Somebody' by Depeche Mode off the same album him and Lauren were talking about in the last chapter. Change the pronouns and it's definitely about all things Steve loves about Eddie.

I also added Lauren singing "Here Comes the Rain Again" from the suggestion in the poll because it's such a great song.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

***

Steve questioned the wisdom of going out to a bar their first day in Ashland, tired as both Eddie and he were. But at the same time it was also nice to get out and just have fun.

Apparently Danny’s brother Hal ran the joint so Lauren, Eddie, and he could come in. As long as they didn’t try and get booze they were fine to do anything else. Pool, darts, and even a little stage for people to sing.

Hal told them that he tried to get one of those newfangled karaoke machines but that they were on back order until Christmas. But they were more then welcome to sing their heart out to jukebox in the corner.

Lauren got up there and sang Here Comes the Rain Again by the Eurythmics.

“Falling on my head like a new emotion,” she crooned, just as low and melodic as Annie Lennox. “I wanna walk in the open wind. I wanna talk lovers do. Want dive into you ocean, is it raining with you?”

“Are all you Munsons talented in the music department?” Steve asked Eddie as he watched Lauren continue to belt out the song.

Eddie laughed. “No. I don’t know about my dad, but Wayne can’t carry a tune to save his life.”

“Maybe he’s talented in other ways,” Steve said with a wink. “Who taught you how to play guitar?”

Eddie ran his tongue over the top row of his teeth. “He did.”

“Uh huh,” Steve said with a grin. “And who bought you your first guitar?”

He sighed. “He did.”

“Sounds to me like he’s a good teacher if nothing else,” Steve finished with a grin.

“God you’re so annoying when you’re right,” Eddie huffed.

“That’s because I rarely am and so when that happens, I get to gloat.”

Lauren came bouncing back to the table. “Who’s next?”

“Toss you for it?” Steve said.

“You’re on.”

Eddie pulled out a quarter. “Heads or tails?”

“Heads.”

Steve watched as the coin sailed into the air and Eddie deftly catch it in his large hand. He slapped in on the top of his other hand.

“Tails!’ Eddie crowed. “You’re next, pretty boy!”

Steve leaned over and looked at the coin. He rolled his eyes and marched over to the jukebox, beginning to pour over the choices. He picked one and walked up to the stage.

He grabbed the microphone as the first notes came through the tinny jukebox speakers.

Eddie watched in awe. He had never heard Steve sing. Not really, fooling around in the car and being annoying for the kids wasn’t the same as what he was seeing in front of him.

“Did you know he could sing like that?” Lauren asked, not taking her eyes off the stage. “God, he could make money off that voice.”

Eddie could only agree. “I’ve never heard him like this.”

“She will listen to me when I want to speak about the world we live in and life in general,” Steve sang, his eyes half closed as he leaned into the microphone, one hand raised. “Though my views may be wrong, they may even be perverted she’ll hear me out and won’t easily be converted to my way of thinking. In fact, she’ll often disagree, but at the end of it all she will understand me.”

Lauren looked over at Eddie. “You know this is on that album him and I were talking about earlier. The Depeche Mode one.”

Eddie turned to her. “The one with the song he listened to a billion times?”

She nodded. “It’s called Lie to Me. It’s where the album title comes from. That girlfriend, the one with the dead friend, she really fucked him up, didn’t she?”

Eddie sighed. “I wasn’t there for that. We didn’t become friends until way after that. But yeah, I’m beginning to see exactly how much she fucked him up.”

She looked up at Steve crooning the last lines of the song. “Do you think if the world was different he would have changed the pronouns of the song?”

Eddie looked back at Steve as he bowed to thunderous applause. “You know, think he just might have.”

He stood up and greeted Steve with a hug. “Holy shit, man. That was amazing. Where did you learn to sing like that?”

Steve just blushed. “It’s your turn now.”

He went up to Hal and whispered something to him. Hal nodded.

Eddie got on stage and Hal came from behind with a small amp and a black-bodied electric guitar. He handed the guitar to Eddie and then began fiddling with the amp.

“Hey, guys,” Eddie said into the microphone. “Some of you might remember me, I’m Hal’s nephew, Eddie and I play metal.”

He started the opening riff to Run to the Hills and belted out the lyrics. Everyone was on their feet in an instant, Steve and Lauren with them.

Steve was cheering and laughing. It was nice to see Eddie play again after that horrific spring break from literal hell.

As soon as he was done he handed the guitar back to Hal and stepped off the stage.

“You are a beast, Eddie Munson,” Steve said, pounding him on the back when he got back to their table.

Eddie shoved his hair into his mouth to hide his blush. “Thanks.”

Steve ordered another round of sodas for them as they got to talking about their musical influences and who they would love to meet.

It hit ten o’clock and Hal was ushering them out as well as couple other under-aged kids who were there playing darts.

Once they hit the pavement Steve asked about it.

“Anyone under twenty-one always gets kicked out at ten,” Lauren explained. “It’s always been one of Uncle Hal’s rules since he bought this place when I was ten.”

Eddie nodded. “He doesn’t want anyone getting hurt for when the alcohol really starts flowing.”

“Too bad the funeral wasn’t next week,” Lauren said, shoulder checking him. “Then you could’ve stayed later.”

“Your birthday is next week?” Steve asked. “Why didn’t I know that?”

Eddie blushed.

“Because this weirdo doesn’t like to celebrate his birthday,” Lauren teased.

“Look,” Eddie said, “having a summer birthday sucks, okay? Especially if all you have is school friends who don’t give you their phone numbers or their addresses so you can invite them. And by the time you get old enough for that not to be a problem, you just don’t care anymore.”

Steve nodded. “I can understand that. My parents never really celebrated birthdays and by the time I got friends that wanted to celebrate, I learned very fast that it was for my big house and the expectation of an even bigger party.”

“Ouch,” Lauren said with a wince. “Maybe you two should pick a date to be your birthdays and celebrate whenever you want. It doesn’t have to be the actual date you were born. A lot of people that have birthdays on holidays and on leap years do it that way.”

“Oohh,” Steve said to Eddie, “yours should be March 27th.”

Eddie threw his head back and laughed. “Then when would yours be?”

Steve thinks about for a moment. “Either 3rd or 12th of November I guess.”

“Why those dates?” Lauren asked looking between them in curiosity.

“The third is when I chose my found family over a life of peace,” Steve explained.

“And the 12th?” Eddie asked.

Steve scoffed and shook his head. “That was the day I knew I was meant for more in life then dodging bad parents, letting my friends be assholes, and smoking and drinking my life away. I didn’t realize it then, of course. But yeah, that day means a lot.”

Eddie closed his eyes. “Steve...”

He shook his head. “It’s fine. I don’t miss who I was.”

Lauren was even more confused because they seemed to be talking about something deeper than what was actually said.

“This has to do with all the bullshit Hawkins went through, right?” she asked. “The lab, the gas leak, the earthquake. That’s what you’re talking about?”

Eddie and Steve looked at each other and nodded.

“Something like that,” Eddie confirmed.

*

The next morning while Steve was on the phone with Robin, Lauren dragged Eddie into her room.

“Look, you don’t have to like the music,” she explained handing him a cassette tape.

Eddie looked at the tape. Some Great Reward by Depeche Mode, he sighed.

“But at least listen to it,” she said. “I have it queued to that song he mentioned, Lie to Me. Even if you don’t listen to the rest of it, I think you should hear that one. I think you’ll learn more about your friend.”

“Laurie...” he said with a sigh. “If he wanted me to know, he would have told me, don’t you think?”

“That depends,” she said. “Do you like his ex?”

Eddie reared back is head with a frown. Did he like Nancy? He guessed well enough. He had come to respect her, at the very least. He liked Steve more, sure. But yeah, if she called to go see a movie, he wouldn’t turn her down.

“Yeah, I guess.”

Lauren grabbed him by the arms and maneuvered him to sit on her bed. “I have known Steve for less than twenty four hours and I can already tell he’s the most self-sacrificing idiot since Jesus fucking Christ.”

Eddie opened his mouth to protest, but she raised an eyebrow and he was forced to concede her point, waving his hand at her.

“So believe me,” she continued, “when I say that he hasn’t told you shit about what went down with his ex is because he doesn’t want to ruin things between you and her.”

Eddie nodded. “I know it’s a big fucking ask...” he sighed. “But see if you can find out what happened, maybe he’ll tell you and you can at least give me advice on how to navigate that mine field so I’m accidentally blowing up shit.”

Lauren nodded. “I can’t guarantee shit, but yeah, I’ll try.” She sat down next to him and leaned around to look him in the eyes. “He means a lot to you, doesn’t he?”

Eddie clasped his hands together and nodded, pursing his lips.

“Does he know about your…certain proclivities?” She looked up at the door to make sure no one was around.

He did the same and then nodded again, not trusting himself to speak.

“And he’s okay with that?” Lauren pressed.

“His best friend is gay and encouraged me to come out to him, too,” Eddie said. “He’s a really good dude.”

Lauren pressed her lips together and thought for a moment. “Are you in love with him?”

Eddie sighed. “Yeah, yeah I am.”

Then they heard running up the stairs and suddenly Steve was the door.

“Hey guys,” he said. “Penny told me to come get you both, she needs help preparing for the wake tonight.”

Eddie and Lauren shared a glance.

“We’ll be right there, Stevie,” Eddie said with a smile.

Steve nodded and dashed back down the stairs.

“Do you think he heard?” Lauren asked, staring at the place Steve was once standing.

Eddie just shrugged. He couldn’t have, could he? They heard him come up the stairs, after all.

Right?

***

Pt 6|Pt 7|Pt 8|Pt 9|Pt 10|Pt 11|Pt 12

Some people love having a summer birthday. Growing up, I most certainly did NOT. As for the dates Steve brings up Nov. 12 1983 is the day he chose to run back inside the Byers house and battle a demogorgon. Nov 3rd 1984 is when Dustin intercepts Steve's apology to Nancy to help him find Dart. Both are very significant to Steve in his journey to be a better person.

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @emly03 @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @vecnuthy @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @gutterflower77 @genderless-spoon @hel-spawn @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @mamafaithful @yikes-a-bee

[grapehyasynth]

young royals fic rec, 18/?

i’m (slowly) working my way through the wilmon tag on ao3 and thought that as i go i might shout out some fics i enjoy along the way! i've tagged authors where i knew their tumblr url, but please feel free to tag folks or dm me if you know ones i've missed!

1. cashmere by @thedecadenceofwar - Simon pulled the sweater from his backpack and something so deep lurched within him, he felt like crying. Almost on instinct, he bunched it to his nose and mouth like an oxygen mask, and breathed deep. Oh, fuck.

2. (Online Love) by @oatflatwhite - Wilhelm comes out. The world (via social media) deals.

3. don't you wanna be nobody? by falseari - Markus talks to the press. Simon and Wille deal with the fallout.

4. if i had one more moment with you by @altruistic-meme - Just a quiet moment from an easier time. Simon is tired and Wilhelm has a solution.

5. Grant Me a Stay by fitz_y - Two weeks before Wilhelm’s high school graduation, Simon gets a shitty unexpected phone call.

6. a feeling that never left by @aniara - They had kissed, Simon and Wilhelm, that first month at Hillerska. Wilhelm had taken it back the next day, suggested they stay friends, and that was all they were now, two years later. Best friends.

7. you and me, meant to be by makeamends - When Simon has to get one of his wisdom teeth removed, Wilhelm doesn't hesitate to offer his help. It definitely has nothing to do with the fact that he's been in love with Simon for years.

[frenchkisstheabyss]

7 Psychopaths: Seonghwa

x Summary: You are X, a seasoned assassin, and your boss has just assigned you an unusual task. You have two weeks to gather six men for a top-secret mission that requires their unique brand of psychopathy. The trick is, you've got romantic history with all of them.

A detail that might make this a walk in the park or the fight of your life. Time to find out...

x Pairing: assassin!seonghwa x assassin!chubby!fem!reader

x Genre: angst/crime au/smut

x Word Count: 1.8k-ish

x Warnings: fingering, unprotected sex, some moments of deep/hard sex w/ scratching, sex in the desert cause danger is fun, pet names (baby), Hwa likes to talk dirty, fire, side character death via said fire, blood, teeth pulling w/ pliers, mini-explosion, a punch gets thrown, a lil enemies to lovers, strong language, tried to cover it all but lmk if anything's missing!

x A/N: This is #4 in a series of 6 stories featuring two members from TXT, two from ATEEZ, and two from Stray Kids. They all follow the same theme and can be read chronologically or you can jump around. I support the chaos.

Previous Psychopath: Wooyoung | Next Psychopath: Soobin | OR Start From The Beginning

The average adult has 32 teeth. 28 if they’ve had their wisdom teeth taken out. Seonghwa shoves a pair of pliers into the mouth of the man he has tied up in the trunk of a car, clamping the metal jaws around the first molar on the right side. The man’s screams are agonizing, his wrists and ankles fighting against the frayed rope as the root tears out of place. Seonghwa holds it in the red glow of the taillights, ignoring the blood soaked cries of his present company.

“You really should brush your teeth more'' he frowns, noting the plaque buildup on the bloody tooth before tossing it aside. “Don’t worry though. Once I’m done you won’t have any left to brush.” Seonghwa grabs him by the neck, shoving the pliers into his mouth as a mixture of spit and blood drips down the man’s chin. Gripping the next tooth in line, he rips it out much easier than the last and the screaming continues. 2 down, 30 to go.

If they were somewhere in the city Seonghwa might've done something to quiet him down. Duct tape his mouth shut. Shove a sock in there. But this is the desert, the absolute middle of nowhere, during a time when even the sun has abandoned them. There are no people for miles in either direction and any encounter with the other living creatures that stalk the desert night is sure to end in this man's death. Make no mistake. He will die either way but first, there’s business to attend to.

“You have the misfortune of having a lot of teeth,” Seonghwa grins, waving the pliers around with tooth number 4 wedged between metal, “Fortunately, I don’t have a lot of time so why don’t you tell me what I wanna know and we can go our separate ways.” “You…you’re gonna let me go?” the man blubbers, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Of course, I will.” A lie. “Don’t fuck with me, man!” “I’m not fucking with you.” Another lie. Seonghwa takes a seat on the edge of the open trunk, patting the man on the shoulder like they’re two old friends grabbing a beer. “I’ll let you go. I always keep my word.” The final lie. The biggest lie of them all. 

But it works. In seconds the man confesses to Seonghwa, a sinner in search of forgiveness. He answers every question without pause. Spills the details of who hired him for the job that led to their paths crossing. Hell, he even starts in on his troubled childhood, going on about his mommy issues until Seonghwa can’t stomach his voice anymore. “Alright, well, thanks for that,” Seonghwa sings, hopping up and tossing the pliers into the trunk before walking out of view. “Hey! Where are you going?” the man shouts, wiggling towards the edge of the trunk.

Idling a safe distance away is Seonghwa’s car, soft white headlights illuminating the horizon as classical music flows from the radio almost too lightly to be heard. He pops the trunk, retrieving a 5 gallon gas canister. “Calm down, I’m coming back,” Seonghwa huffs, dragging himself back to the other car. The man’s eyes widen when he sees the canister, what little color is left in his pale skin drains to nothing. “No! You can’t do that! You gave me your word! You’re fucking crazy.”

Seonghwa digs a lighter out of his back pocket, flicking the top off of the canister with his thumb, “I know.”

You awaken from your slumber like a sweet baby angel to the gentle sound of orchestral music. The surface beneath you is the softest you’ve slept on in days and the blanket wrapped around you must be made of some luxurious fur because regular cotton could never feel this lush. You sit up, yawning, eyelashes fluttering, and wait for your vision to adjust. As the sleep wears off you suddenly notice how dry your throat is. Then there’s the pain. You bring your hand up to the side of your neck, touching the tender spot where you were injected with something, and it all comes back to you.

Woo. Seonghwa. They did this. Where are you? The driver’s side door swings open just as the pieces shift back into place. Nearby screams muffled by the crackling of a raging fire draw you in like a moth to a flame. There’s thumping inside the trunk of the other car. You’re too concerned about if you’re next to care who’s in there. “You’re up!” Seonghwa cheers, hopping into the car and turning to check the backseat where you’ve been passed out for hours. “How’s it going, baby?” “‘Baby’, my ass!” you shout, punching him in the face. You hate to hit something so pretty but he deserved it.

“You fucking drugged me!” Seonghwa holds his nose, tapping his foot to distract from the pain, “I did it for your own good.” “For my own good? You set me up. Where’s Woo? Son of a bitch.” Blinded by your anger, you storm out of the car, charging barefoot through the desert with the blanket still around you. Seonghwa chases after you, his head tilted back to avoid a nosebleed, “You can’t just walk around out here. You’re gonna get hurt!” “I’ll get hurt?” you scoff, turning back to launch another hit in his direction.

Seonghwa grabs you by the wrist, bringing an arm around your waist to hold you to him, “Look at me and tell me you think I’d ever bring harm to you.” The aching in your neck tells you not to trust him again but your heart won’t let you forget your shared history. All of the times he’s put his life on the line to protect you before. Whatever he’s done, there must be a reason. It better be a good one. Seonghwa lets out a sigh of relief as he senses your body has begun to relax. The fire behind him has doubled in size, making it impossible to ignore.

“Who’s in the trunk?” you ask, kissing the bridge of his nose right where your punch landed. It takes everything in him not to blush. “Someone that did want to hurt you but don’t worry. I hurt him first.” “What did he want with me?” “You’re joking, right?” he laughs, “There’s a trail of corpses behind you in the name of a mission no one knows anything about. They’re coming for you. You have to stop.” This was bound to happen. An occupational hazard. When you run around fucking shit up you draw attention to yourself and it’s never the good kind.

This is the life you signed up for though. Turning back isn’t an option. “You know I can’t do that.” “Yes you can,” he says, the pain in his voice undeniable, “I’ll keep them off of you as long as I can but once they get to me—” You kiss him, letting the blanket fall to your feet as you cup his face. “Don’t talk like that, Hwa. I won’t let them touch you. I promise.” The kiss heats up rapidly. The knowledge that you still care for each other deeply drives you into a breathless frenzy.

You tear at each other’s clothes. His hands traverse your curves, massaging your ass and thighs. Your stomach. Your breasts. Your everything. Before you know it you’re laid out over the pile of clothes, his tongue rolling across your nipple as he parts your thighs to stroke your pussy. Your throat might be dry but your pussy’s delectably wet. Seonghwa dips a finger into you, humming against a mouthful of your breast as he taps his thumb at your clit. The finger inside of you curls in just the right way to make your hips stutter.

“Mmm, is my girl ready for another one?” You shake your head, nails raking up and down his back, “Two. I want two more.” “Anything for you” he smiles, feeding his fingers into you one by one. He moves his wrist in slow circles, giving you that satisfying fullness in your belly, all the while stretching you in preparation for the cock he can tell you want so badly. You reach down to stroke his length and it jumps for you like an overexcited puppy happy to see its owner. You are its owner. No amount of time apart will change that. You’re the only woman who's ever been able to get him hard as steel and you know it.

“No more fingers. I want you to fill me up” you whisper, tugging at his hair. Seonghwa picks up the pace, fingering you faster just to hear you scream his name. Your hips raise off of the ground, walls locked around his fingers. He wiggles them free, using the hand dripping with your arousal to stroke himself as he aligns with your entrance. He comes up to kiss you, pushing into you until he bottoms out, turning you into a giggling mess.

Watching you has him falling in love all over again. “Fuck, I love it when you’re like this,” he says, lifting one of your legs up and pounding into you. Each thrust is so perfectly angled to please you that you can't even steady your hands enough to touch him. In fact, nothing about you is steady. Your entire body reacts to his, obeying commands without a word spoken. “Ooh, your little pussy’s pulsing. Ready to cum for me already?” he teases, bouncing you on his cock. “Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes…” your voice trails off, nails digging deeper into his shoulders as you crack under pressure.

Seonghwa pins you down harder, slowing down to feel every moment of your release. He may have his sadistic side but his heart never softens more than when he sees you happy. And knowing that he’s the reason why? It gets him every time. He cuddles you as you come down, only peeling his body away from yours when the sudden combustion of a gas tank startles the two of you. “Aww, isn’t that romantic?” he beams. “Romantic?” “Like fireworks.” You roll your eyes, scooching over to lay your head on his chest, “Sure. Let’s go with that.”

Despite the circumstances, laying here with him is the most peaceful night you’ve had since this all began. It feels almost normal enough to pretend you don't have the weight of the world on your shoulders. Seonghwa disrupts the delusion. Someone has to do it. “Nothing I say will make you back out of this mission, will it?” You sigh, drawing hearts in the sweat that slicks his chest, “No. I have to do this, with or without you and Woo, but I’d prefer with.” Seonghwa hugs you, kissing you on the forehead, “Then ‘with’ it is.”

[furryllamas]

Can’t Help Falling in Love | A. Walter

+ Alex Walter x OC

+ Summary: Life has been difficult for sisters Jackie and Eden Howard. Obviously regular teenage girl problems, such as boys, school, and friends. Except tragedy that ensues, the death of their parents and older sister. They'll have to navigate a life without their family, just throw in love, the countryside, and a whole lot of boys in one roof.

+ Authors Note: Hey guys I really hope you enjoy this first chapter, I was really inspired after seeing Ashby play Alex and absolutely fell in love 🤍

 Chapter 0.0 | Two Time Zones Apart

The sound of LA traffic was not great, but it was definitely quieter than the sound of the streets of New York. It's only been 6 Months since I moved to LA semi-permanently. I still got homesick often but there was no place like California. Ever since the transition from being a model to a singer it was a choice I had to make, with mom and dads approval of course, even if it meant seeing Lucy and Jackie less.

"Oh Gosh. What time is it?" I grumbled as I rubbed my eyes. I looked towards my bedside table and picked up my phone. "10:30 AM" I removed the bed covers and stretched my arms over my head. The smell of my room always gave me some comfort in the mornings. I headed to the restroom and pulled my hair into a bun and turned the faucet on. I started washing my teeth when I heard my phone ringing. I ran back to my room to pick up my phone that was lying on the bed. A video call from Jackie. I quickly pick up the phone as I walk back to the bathroom.

"Juswt whun sewkand-" I attempted to say with the tooth brush still in my mouth. Jackie let out a quick laugh, "take your time Eid." I put my finger up, just one moment, and place the phone in front of the faucet handles, holding it up. I quickly rinse out the toothpaste and splashed my face with water to ensure I would fully wake myself up.

"Hi Jacks! How's it going?" I waved and picked up my phone.

"EDEN! It's going so well! I can't wait for you and Lucy to come home today! I missed you guys so much." Jackie smiled softly.

"Oh my, we haven't been away from you that longgggg" I teased as i sat down on my Vanity. I panned my phone to the stack of luggage by my window.

"Okay I know, BUT, I just missed you guys so much." She sighed. "It's been a month since I've seen you and Lucy. I'm just so excited for you to see my excellent work tonight."

"I know Jacks, My flight is at 2 so I'll probably be there by 7-ish." I start applying my makeup and look away from my phone. " and plus Lucy will be there sooner than me, so you'll get her while you wait for meeee."

She laughs, "Right, what would I do without your wisdom." She stays quiet for a couple of seconds, "How's your new song going?"

I wince, "It's going..." She looks at me confused. "I've just been lacking in inspiration lately. I'm hoping going home will help with that."

"I'm sure you'll get a spark of inspiration once you spend some good old fashioned time at the ballet with me."

"Thanks Jackie, I've missed you guys so much. I can't wait to get there tonight."

I stop to think. "Dinner at The Penrose?"

I look at her smile, "of course Eden! That's our spot."

"All right deal" I look at the time, 11:30AM, "All right sis, I have to head to the airport, see you soon!" I reach over to hang up, "wait! Remember mom and dad will pick you up later tonight so we can all go to dinner together."

"Okay, perfect! Bye Jacks, love you!"

"Bye Eids!" I hung up.

I start getting up and shutting the curtains. It might be a while until I'm back but I'd rather keep my room clean.

Ding Dong.

I head over to the front door that smells strongly of oak. Walking past the pictures I have hanging of Mom, Dad, Lucy, Jackie and I. I open the door and smile as I see the face of my amazing Manager, Lizzie. "Liz! Come to say goodbye to your favorite client." I giggled as she stepped in. "Excuse me! Not just my client, more like my favorite friend!" I hug her and drag her to my room.

"Oh gosh, look at all this baggage..." she exclaims standing in front of my suitcases. She reaches over and picks one up. "Alright Eden! Let's get moving and load these into the car, your driver is waiting."

I look over to her and smile, "You got it boss!" I salute. It was an easy load up and we wasted no time getting in the car. "Are you excited to see your family again?" Lizzie asked. "Yeah I'm a bit nervous though. I haven't seen them in a couple of months, I feel like I've missed out on a lot." It was hard being apart from them and not being able to see them as often as I used to.

Lizzie looks at me and smiles softly, her polished nails and her soft hands reach over to mine. She grabs them and turns to me. "E, you need this. You've been homesick for a while and I think this trip will help you with the new song." I lean my head back against the headrest and turn my face to look out of the window. "I know Liz." I turn back towards her. "Thank you for helping me today. It means a lot. I'll miss you lots."

She just smiles at me and I start feeling tired, car rides always seem to wear me out. I take one last look at the highway we're on and slowly close my eyes. I let sleep take over me and an oddly weird feeling at the pit of my stomach. I hear Liz whisper, "I'll wake you when we get there."

[f10werfae]

Wisdom Teeth

Pairing : Husband! Chris Evans x Wife! Reader

Word count: 1,348

Summary: Chris sends Y/n on one hell of a journey

Warnings: none

————

Requests are open!

Likes, Comments and Re-blogs are appreciated♥️

Y/n's P.O.V)

The sound of the air conditioning and people

flicking magazine pages filled my ears, along with the occasional nurse coming out to call in patients.

Chris had been gone for around 45 minutes now, he had spent the whole night worrying about his wisdom teeth procedure this morning. Let me say, it took a lot of kisses and muscle to even get him into the clinic into the first place.

“Chris Evans?” A nurse said when she opened the heavy white door, a grey clipboard clasped in her hands. Standing up, I rubbed the sweat from my palms onto my legs and pulled my sport shorts up.

“Yes?”

“His surgery went completely fine, he’s just a bit loopy right now due to the anaesthesia but here’s the list of the aftercare procedures for the next 24 hours or so”

“Thank you so much, am I able to take him home now or?”

“Yes he can go home now, would you like some help getting him to your car?”

“Please that would be magical”

Entering the room, Chris lay back on the dental chair, his limbs laying limp by his side, groans leaving his lips here and there.

“You alright hunny bun” I asked walking over to him, rubbing my hand up and down his bicep while my other hand combed through his hair.

“HEY! No” He shouted abruptly, his hands attempting to push me away from him, his face looking away from me.

“I’m married lady, cut it out” He slurred out, his arms crossing over his chest.

“Mhm I know you are married. Married to me babe” I laughed out, softly turning his head towards me, making eye contact with him.

“Y/n? Oh It’s my honey bunny” Chris said trying to smile with the bloody pieces of gauze sitting in his mouth, his arms now reaching out for me.

“Come on big boy, it’s time to get you home and in bed”

“Are you coming with me?”

“Of course, I live with you hun”

“Well alright then” Chris said, immediately jumping out of the dental chair, before nearly falling. Luckily the oral surgeon had caught him in time, with some teamwork we both managed to get Chris into the car.

“Y/nnnnn”

“Yes Chris?”

Within seconds, sobs erupted from Chris, his massive hands covering his face. Putting up the divider between his driver and us, I scooted over to him in the car.

“Baby? what’s wrong?”

“You called me Chris. I’m bubba”

Trying to hold my laugh in, Chris leant his head towards me laying on my chest, his sobs now stifled down to sniffles. How had this rock of a man now turned into a pile of softness.

“Yes you’re my bubba”

(Time Skip)

Getting him onto the couch with the help of our driver, I sat with him until he dozed off. Before sneaking off to our bedroom and grabbing the comforters off the bed and bringing it down to the living room. Turning on the ceiling fan, I tucked Chris in under the covers and placed kisses on his heady every so often.

My big baby of a husband.

When suddenly the alarm for his aftercare buzzed on my phone. Knowing how he would react, I decided to prepare the syringe with salt water first before waking him up.

“Bubba wake up, come on” I said softly, pulling down the comforters I softly patted him awake. His eyes soon opening slowly, his bloody mouth pulling into a lopsided goofy grin.

“Heyyy babyvirl” He slurred out, his hands playfully going up my shirt. Holding in another laugh, I slapped his hand away causing his eyes to water once again.

“We can do that later bub okay? Let me jus clean your mouth, can you do that?”

“You promise about later right?” He said with his eyes half lidded, reminding me of the times when he’d come home drunk from going out with his friends and he’d instantly turn into a ball of mush.

“I promise” I said softly, putting a bucket under his chin, pulling out the gauze and rinsing the exact place his tooth was with the syringe.

“There good boy” I said happily patting his head, his hand nuzzling into my hand like a dog would. Putting away the syringe and bucket, I cut off a new piece of gauze and tried to place it in when

“OWWW CHRIS” I winced out holding my fingers to my chest.

“Gotchu honey bun” He said chuckling, clenching his teeth together.

“No biting bubba, or no fun later” I said sternly holding his jaw in my hand, seeing him nod this time with a pout on his lips.

Successfully putting the new gauze in his mouth, I leant back onto the couch, exhausted and in dire need of a nap.

*knock knock*

Getting up to the front door, I opened it to see Scotty with Charlie in his hands.

"Momma" Charlie called out quietly, his arms extending in my direction as I carried him, his arms going around my neck.

"How's Chris?" Scott asked holding onto his nephew's toy buzz.

"Come see for yourself" I said chuckling letting him into the living room as I brought Charlie to the kitchen.

(In the Kitchen)

"Now did you behave for uncle scott?"

"Yes momma, we watched movies and ate izza" His four year old way of saying Pizza. His features mirrored that of Chris', the only thing he really got from me were my eyes and my personality which was pretty shy.

“Listen, dada is very very sleepy right now because he had to go see the Doctor. You understand hun?” I asked brushing back his hair.

“Dada sick?” Charlie pouted with his eyes watering, his expression matching that of Chris' earlier.

“No no no, he just needs a lot of sleep and rest, so let’s not be too loud okay?”

“okay momma” Nodding at him I did our usual routine of me kissing his cheeks and nose before I carried him onto my hip to bring him into the living room.

Without even entering the room, I could already hear Chris crying. Again. Sighing I walked in, Charlie’s head laying on my shoulder as he placed about with the locket around my neck.

“Y/n he has gone crazy, he thinks I lost Charlie”

Scott said laughing loudly with his phone in hand, pointing at Chris who was busy bawling his eyes out into the couch pillow.

“Charlie” He called out in between sobs, choking up and whining.

“Dada?” Charlie called out, as I set him down onto the plush carpet, stumbling his way towards his now crying father.

“Charlie?” Chris called out, his head now poking out from under the pillow, his gauze still sticking out of his mouth, his eyes red with tears.

“CHARLIE!” Chris exclaimed, instantly scooping up the tiny boy and holding him dearly to his chest.

“I missed you dada” Charlie said wrapping his arm around Chris' neck

“I missed you too” Chris said still sniffling, rubbing up and down Charlie's back comfortingly.

“Alright you two, lay back onto the sofa” I said watching as Chris laid back against the massive arm rest, Charlie laying on his chest comfortably. Tucking them in with the comforter and cups of water, I turned on the T.V to put on their favourite movie of Snoopy and Charlie Brown: The Peanuts Movie.

Before turning back to Scott, “Fancy a cup of coffee Scotty?”

“I’ll need it”

(Time Skip to 30 Mins)

After sending Scott off home, I decided to check on my two favourite boys, to walk in on what I expected to find. Both of them passed out, Charlie had used Chris’ pecs as his pillow, Chris' hands clasped around Charlie's body protectively.

Deciding to just leave them to it, I started to head towards the kitchen when I heard Chris call out, “Don’t think I forgot about later baby” An attempt at a smirk was on his face, as he nuzzled back into our baby boy, the movie still playing in the back ground

[qphiltits]

Since @inkredi got their wisdom teeth out I felt they needed something to speed along their recovery <3 please enjoy this phil/enderking for you inky

I have no idea how long it is because i write it here on tumblr ahdkdjd also unedited because I'm tired I'm so sorry

See my other phil and Enderking drabble here!

Contains: bondage, cage, overstimulation, cnc (kinda?), micro/macro if you squint for 2 seconds and mentiones of cervix penetration <3

"I think at this point, I really should just keep you."

The King's voice was a low hum as he looked into the gilded cage, eyeing his pet with obvious interest in his strange purple eyes.

"Just look at you. Squirming around. You would be lost without me."

Phil was on his back, arms tied behind him and calves tied to his thighs, forcing them apart. He truly was a magnificent sight, covered in sweat and moaning stupidly as he squirmed on the floor. There was a mess of slick between his legs, spurred on by the unrelenting vibrator stuck to his clit.

He hardly registered the cage door squeaking open, or the large hand moving towards him, so lost in pleasure and overstimulation.

The Ender King delighted in his crows surprised gasp as he played with his chest.

"Such a little slut you are." He chuckled, low in his throat. "I bet you just want to be filled, hm? So much toying and for what? You know your purpose, don't you."

He watched with a teary eyed gaze as the finger retreated, and the King's size shrunk. He was still nearly double Phil's height, but much more reasonable compared to his full God size.

Phil nodded as he arched his back, pressing up against the finger toying with him. "Yes! Gods- yes m'just your stupid slut-"

When the King removed the vibrator, it was like a puppet had been cut from its strings. Phil's body went limp aside from his legs twitching in overstimulation.

Phil took deep breaths, dizzy from however long he'd been stuck in here, endlessly cumming. It was during one of these deep breaths, with his mouth open, he found his breath cut short.

The Ender King didn't waste any time, he simply shoved his too large cock down Phil's throat.

Phil's eyes widened and he looked up at the King through his lashes, pleading silently for rest, but he knew that wouldn't happen. Unless he safe worded, the King could do whatever he pleased.

He loved it.

"My precious crow." The King cooed, rocking his hips back and forth, slowly pushing more and more past Phil's lips and down his throat. "You don't disappoint me."

More tears welled in Phil's eyes as the cock pressed further back into his throat, making him gag. Everything about the Ender King was too big, but that didn't stop him from using Phil like his play thing.

Even as he started slowly fucking his throat, he pet Phil's hair like he was something precious.

Just when Phil felt he might pass out from lack of oxygen, the King pulled his head off. He gasped for breath desperately, his jaw sore.

The world spun as the Ender King lifted him, placing Phil in his lap. With his legs still bound apart, he was positioned right over his enormous cock, purple and ridged, dripping with a strange glowing liquid.

"Wait- wait I can't-" Phil begged, squirming in his grasp. "It's too big!"

The King just laughed, and let Phil go.

A sob rang out as gravity took over, impaling Phil on the King's cock all in one go. He could feel every ridge, feel the pointed tip bullying it's way past his cervix and into his womb.

He was speechless, making mindless babbling sounds.

The King hushed him, kissing him lovingly and petting his hair as he began to raise Phil back up by holding his hips before dropping him back down.

The pain on the edge of the immense pleasure he felt was so perfect, he couldn't describe it if he tried. He swore he could feel the massive cock in his stomach, and when he looked down there was an obvious bulge.

Every movement was perfection, the ribbing of his cock causing continuous stimulation to his g-spot, even when he wasn't looking for it, the tip pressing into his cervis.

Phil sobbed as he came, his hole growing tighter around the King's cock.

"Greedy bird, you're practically sucking me in." The King growled.

With Phil obviously spent, he decided to chase his own release, uncaring how overstimulated his pet was. He was his, after all.

He pressed Phil onto the floor and held his hips roughly as he pounded into him, taking immense pleasure as he watched how his body molded itself to his cock, like it was welcoming him.

Phil couldn't stop moaning and whining, writhing in the floor as his brain turned into static. He didn't think he could come again, but his body was burning on the edge-

He screamed, throat going raw as cum flooded his abused cunt and spilled into his waiting womb, just like the King wanted.

The King pulled away after a moment, watching Phil's hole flutter with immense satisfaction.

"I'll be back soon, birdy." He slipped the vibrator back onto Phil's clit before exiting the cage, relishing in the shouting he heard from behind him. He was already looking forward to breeding his pet again.

[4me2knowandyou2wonder]

Teeth Headcanons for Modern Warfare Characters

no poll this time because I know the order i want to post them in! woo!

ITS FINALLY TIME FOR THE 141!! first up,

Gaz

At first I tried to say that Gaz was the only British one to get braces, but then I actually looked at his teeth and I realized I was wrong… he just kinda needs them. He’s never had them.

Gaz has a crossbite, (fig 1 & 2) and couldn’t pronounce words correctly when he was young because of it. Gaz went to speech therapy as a kid because of his crossbite. When his moms noticed that his speech was slurring and he was developing a lisp they quietly enrolled him in a class. He never minded, it was something fun to do on Thursday afternoons. He’s glad they did, without them, his voice probably would be far less clear. It’s why he moves his mouth the way that he does when he talks, (fig 3) he’s making room for his tongue to move to where it needs to go. 

Gaz never got braces, as much as he might have needed them, but his life path never lent itself to that. So his teeth are set up the way nature intended. His left canine sticks out and his lower incisors like to overlap every chance they get. And of course that crossbite is there. 

His anatomy was shaped in a way that let him keep his upper wisdom teeth but those two bottom suckers had to go. He got his wisdom teeth removed at 19, it is because of this there is a video on YouTube somewhere of him singing wheels on the bus.

Gaz brushes his teeth every night and every morning, except he *never* brushes them on missions. Doesn’t bother to carry a toothbrush on him. Knows he won’t use it. He also did not bother to floss until he met Alex, then the other man basically honda-dealership-sales-pitched him the idea, and Gaz now par-takes in the occasional floss stick thrown into his routine. Farah has taught him to oil-pull in that same conversation and he adapted it to just using mouthwash when he feels his breath smells.

While doing research for these headcanons I found a picture of his teeth. It changed all my ideas by a complete 180 but <3333 gaz my beloved. His teeth are so pretty and his cross bite??? It has my heart.

okay this is really old and now i have many more ideas about Gaz's speech patterns but I wanted to get back to posting these so I'll write that later in a separate post!

figures under the cut

Fig 1, 2

Fig 3

Bonus: Extra photo of gaz in that one scene because there can never be enough Gaz

[cupoftaae]

can u do something cute like reader has their wisdom teeth taken out and is all loopy and fluffy while tae takes care of them? :)

Hello! this is super cute thank u anon !!

Also, ive recieved some other asks and I will definitely start writing and posting them tomorrow!! thank you all for sending, I love your ideas.

Ice cream- kth drabble.

warnings-mentions of blood.

Taehyung stood over the small fish tank which resided in the waiting room of the dentists office. You had gone in a few hours earlier for the removal of your wisdom teeth, something you tried multiple times to get out of.

"arent you a little old to be at the childrens dentist?" Taehyung turns his head to see a smug looking 13 year old with crossed arms. He raised his eyebrows, suprised.

to be fair, 1, he was here for you, and 2, yeah...you were too old to be coming to the pediatrics center. He told you so many times to switch to his dentist but you refused, he just assumed they would drop you as a patient eventually considering you are now in your mid 20's.

"is Kim Taehyung here?" an older lady stepped out from behind the front desk to call him, grabbing his attention as he turned away from the weird child.

"thats me" he raised his hand

"great! Y/N is all set, she is just waking up now" the woman spoke, allowing him to follow behind her down the hallway which was filled with children's drawings and stickers. he smiled to himself before being directed into a room with another assistant.

he couldn't hold back his laughs when he saw you, now sitting up, in a reclined seat. "hi sweetheart, you did it!" he cheered, coming over and brushing your hair out of your face, noticing the puffiness of your cheeks and jaw.

your eyes scanned over him momentarily before widening them, suddenly remembering who he was. "tae!" you sat up more, "look what they did to me!" you mumbled before you reached into your mouth, pulling out a blood soaked wad of cotton.

"woah, no, no baby, leave that in there, ok?" taehyung panicked, turning to the nurse as she prepped a new cotton pad to place against your gums.

"did you see it?" you murmured, words hard to make out.

"yes, I did. how dare they." he shook his head and returned his seat next to you once the nurse finished, handing him your discharge papers to sign so he could take you home.

"can we leave, jesus christ, they are gonna kill me" the younger nurse laughed at your words, taking back the paper work from tae.

"baby no ones gonna kill you, ok? I love you, im proud of you" he beamed, scanning your eyes. "youre kinda cute" you smile, completely ignoring him and focusing on his hair and face. "gimme a kiss" you whined.

he leaned to kiss your forehead, "cmon lets go home and have ice cream, yeah?"

"ice cream?" you whipped your head around

"mhm"

you started to tear up, cupping his face as he laughed. "baby why the tears?"

"because, I love ice cream and I love you" you cried

Tae chuckled and stood up, holding your hand.

"dont laugh at me, youre just like them" you said, pointing at the 'evil' nurses to the side.

"they are very nice people, sweetheart, they helped get rid of your yucky teeth" he spoke softly as he helped you into a wheel chair.

"oh if you wanna defend them why dont you just marry them?" you mumble yelled in his face, making him shake his head and apologize to the nurse who found the situation hilarious.

"im already getting married to someone" he smiled

"who?" you gasped, seeming angry as he wheeled you out of the room.

"look at your hand, dummy"

you look down to see a ring on your finger, gasping once again

"what the fuck? we are getting married?!!" you shout, causing tae to panic and cover your mouth, "baby shhhh" he laughed once you reached the parking lot, helping you into the car.

you turned to the nurse who also had come out to help and pointed at tae, whispering loudly "im marrying him"

"oh he is a lucky man" the older lady laughed and took back the wheelchair once you were out and into the passenger seat.

once you were buckled, tae got in and began to drive home. you were restless and continued to whine. "hold the ice pack on your jaw, my love, it'll help" he looked over and moved your hand back up.

"It hurts" you pouted and tried (once again) to pull out the cotton.

"y/n stop, im serious. its there for a reason" taehyung struggled to keep you in his view of vision as he drove.

"you hate me!!!" you cried and turned your entire body to face the window, while he just simply looked at you with a blank expression.

"mkay" he spoke, turning his eyes back to the road. "no ice cream then i guess"

"youre turning against me" you spoke after a moment.

"baby, im trying to help you"

"you are turning against me. and then you will turn against Yeontan, and then your parents, and then when we have kids you will turn against them too and th-"

taehyung stopped at the red light and reached for your hand. "I know you are loopy as hell right now and dont even know whats happening but stop talking like that, I love you and your bloody mouth. now keep the cotton in there until we get home"

you glared at him and then stared out the window.

Of course this silent treatment ended the moment you were in bed and given a bowl with vanilla ice cream in it.

taehyung came back into the room to put a more firm pillow behind your head, as well as an extra blanket over your feet. He giggled and kissed your nose, stepping back to take a picture of you under the nest of sheets.

"you look like a little squirrel" he spoke, cupping your face.

"am i a cute squirrel?" you asked

"obviously" tae moved and sat next to you, kissing your cheek before resting his head on your shoulder. "is it good?"

"so good" you smiled weakly and grabbed a spoonful to feed to him, making him open his mouth and taste it. "thank you"

you both sat quietly as you watched tv before you suddenly spoke up.

"tae"

"hm?"

"dont ever make me go back to the dentist again" you threatened, pointing the spoon at him.

"okay, noted."

a/n- I had fun writing this

[sin-djarin]

Imbibe Chapter 3: Stir (Joel Miller AU x F!reader)

Pairing: Mixologist!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Rating: Mature for this chapter but still 18+. MDNI.

Word Count: 3.5k.

Warnings: AU, swearing, reader is over 25, Joel is late 40s, mentions of alcohol, alcohol consumption, elements of self-dount, mention of failed relationships, bad dates and awful dating app experiences, my spelling and grammar probably, no use of y/n, Joel in a white shirt and the apron.

Chapter Summary: Your return to the bar leaves you with more questions than answers.

A/N: Any thoughts, reblogs and comments are hugely welcome! I'm excited and nervous about this but I hope you enjoy! Your drinks menu and some music suggestions are at the bottom. There is a drink in this chapter that hasn't been named so please, feel free to name it. Cheers!

PLEASE PUT YOUR AGES IN YOUR BIO!

Chapter 1: Prep

Chapter 2: Build

Chapter 3: Stir

Chapter 4: Shake

There is no headache. There are no dry eyes. No dry mouth. No coating of sugar sticking to your teeth as you stretch your limbs across the soft sheets the next morning. The low winter sun is welcome in your room – there’s no trace of a hangover trying to pull you away from it.

Your head starts to buzz without the threat of a headache. It’s awhirl with questions rather than pain. Why had Adam not texted? Why did he not turn up? Was it something you said or didn’t say? Did you send the wrong message at the wrong time? Did you come across too strong? Why did he squeeze the orange rind over the glass and not into it? How does he work an entire shift by himself and not ache?

To answer your first question, you pick up your phone from the nightstand. The weather notification from last night still sits there beside an email from work. Your thumb swipes them both away to open Bumble. There are no new messages from Adam. There are no messages from him at all. Scrolling through your profile, you can’t find evidence that you’d even spoken before.

User not found.

Blocked.

The weight of your heart dropping to your stomach is heavy. You sit upright in the bed and hurriedly tap the screen, scouring every corner of the app, every menu and sub menu for a reason why. The hasty search doesn’t yield any results. The first guy you wanted to give a chance to. You thought he seemed different than the profiles you swiped left on. Everything is different offline.

The answer brings more questions with it. Did he meet someone else? Did he plan two dates? Was he talking to more people than just you? It’s likely. Was he even real at all? Did he just get a kick out of letting women down? Maybe.

Exiting the app you stare at it on your home screen in your hand, thumb hovering over it. You press down and make it tremble.

Uninstall.

In the brief moment of bitterness you experience, you would have like to have blocked him first, but you weren’t to know. You were just won over by his niceties. Total deletion of all potential suitors – digitally at least - provides a little bit of catharsis.

But it still hurts. Adam hasn’t left you with a gaping wound, he’s just poured salt into the one that’s still healing.

You sit with the disappointment for a few minutes and let it wash away. When it leaves, your mind wanders back to the happier events of last night – your newly discovered hideout.

In theory, it shouldn’t be engrossing, but it is. The way he knows how to pair a garnish with a spirit. Your only equivalent is how to match peanut butter to jelly. There’s history, alchemy, and wisdom at play behind a single drink.

Content with your recollecting, you drag yourself up from the confines of your mattress. Your jeans are strewn across the seat of the chair that sits in the corner of the room and your jacket hangs over the back of it. Padding over to it, you go through your pockets to look for your debit card before it got thrown in the laundry. A piece of paper is wrapped around it – your check from last night. $36 on the nose and a note scrawled in ballpoint on the top of the receipt.

11.30. Thanks.

Your brain runs a quick scan through the memories of twelve hours ago. Laughing, people clinking their glasses together, that sweet fucking cherry. Then onto how your evening ended – with an invitation to do it all over again. Your stomach flips in the opposite direction this time. To feel the bass of the music rumble through your chest, to marvel over the décor from an unknown period. To see your bartender once more.

The rest of the day is nothing out of the ordinary, you work your way through the usual weekend to do list – laundry, watering the plants, preparation for the week ahead. There’s no dinging from your phone to distract you from it anymore.

Unlike last night, there’s no rush to get ready. Time is on your side but it feels odd not getting started until around nine o’clock. There’s enough time to apply a full face of make up if you wanted but you don’t. You keep it simple again – just mascara and the same lipstick from last night – no pressure to make a first impression. After getting a feel for the dress code – or lack thereof – it’s an easy decision of all black. A black skater dress, black boots and the same black leather jacket.

The cab stops at the same spot it did last night but you’re ten minutes early. The air is just as cool but there’s no sense of danger in it tonight – you know how it works – the buzzer, the password. Other than the gravel crunching under your as you walk down the dark alley way, it’s deathly quiet compared to the inside of the building.

“Hey”

“Fuck!” you gasp and it bounces off the surrounding walls and into the night.

Frozen to the spot you’re standing in you look for the voice. Squinting through the darkness, you see Joel is squatting against the black wall under the metal stairs with a cup of coffee between his legs as you clutch at your chest.

“M’sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you” he groans, straightening up to stand.

“No it’s…wasn’t expecting anyone down here”

“C’mon” he says, throwing back the last of his coffee with a hard swallow.

He takes the lead and whips out a set of keys from his pocket to open the sliding metal door that seemed like a fortress last night. Stepping inside, he closes the door behind him. You bypass it all this time; the hosts, the reservation confirmation. This time, you’re ushered through the busy tables, through the floor to your seat. All with a large palm resting at the base of your spine guiding you. You’re warmed through before an ounce of liquor passes your lips.

Your spot for the evening is at the opposite end of the bar than you were at last night. The stool itself doesn’t match the others. With a tray full of empty glasses to your right, and the entrance to the bar to your left, you realize you’ve been seated at the service area - or what was the service area. Still, you hope it means you won't have to listen to other couples’ wedding plans again.

It doesn’t take away from the mood though. The room is just as busy, just as electric with new patrons arriving for the last slot of the night. Joel takes his place at his station and adjusts the sleeves of white shirt that are rolled tight around his elbow. After he prepares himself, he brings a bottle of water and glass over to you and pours a small measure of it.

“Welcome back” he smiles, reaching underneath him to produce and places it along side your water.

The menu is more inviting tonight. It doesn’t seem as weighty as it did previously. It’s intriguing now. Opening the cover, you delve into segments of history printed on the pages inside under the guise of beverages. The cocktails that started out as sugar, water and liquor to the explosion of cocktails in the 1920s – sours and bubbly drinks and then turn into a variety of more tropical drinks by the mid-century.

Before you have a chance to even consider any, a large hand slides a drink towards you across the marble. You were so glued to the pages of the menu, you didn’t even hear the crashing of ice or the rattle of metal instruments against glass. You’ve just been served another amber-colored drink in the same glass as the old fashioned with a lemon peel on resting on the rim. You don’t even get an opportunity to say thank you because he’s already straining out two more drinks.

The waft of the fresh citrussy rind makes your mouth salivate, feeling the tartness of it in your jaw as it sits pretty in front of you. Bringing it to your mouth, first sip is different than the two drinks you had last night. This is fiery and ashy. The wet flames of the ginger that lash across your tongue are followed by the taste of smoky liquor that leaves a sooty coating across your lips.

It's a big drink. A sip feels like a chug. He’s not seeking any approval from you this time. All of his attention is focused on slapping a sprig of mint together between his palms ahead of making sure its leaves fan out perfectly across an ice cube. And you’re glad. It’s crafted beautifully again, it’s just a packs a strong punch you weren’t anticipating.

Still, you nurse it, becoming accustomed to its peated intensity while you reacquaint yourself with the room you left twenty four hours ago. Your head finds the right tempo to nod along to the music and the open fire wraps its warmth around you. The conversations happening around you that mold together into one steady timbre finds your ears and your drink continues to find your lips.

Everyone orders drinks quicker tonight and he has to pick up his pace to keep up. A constant stream of servers come and go from the bar counter to collect and drop tipples to tables. You thought that maybe you might have a chance at a conversation tonight, that he might be a little more forthcoming with the names of the drinks he’s serving you. But at the rate he’s working; pouring, stirring and shaking through gritted teeth to get them onto a waiter’s tray despite himself, it begins to look like a big ask.

Almost as if he could read your mind, like he could sense the hunger for knowledge emanating from you, he leans his body over the counter, pausing the drink he’s shaking in one hand to state;

“Penicillin”

“What?”

He doesn’t explain. He just nods at the glass in your hand to tell you it’s official title.

He’s too busy. Too busy doing his own dance in the small space his body occupies behind the counter. Too busy grabbing and stretching, twisting and lifting his limbs. He doesn’t move in time to the music coming through the speakers but rather to the rhythm of the specs of each drink he’s come to know by heart. None of his actions answer any of the questions that came to mind themselves this morning. You think you might just have to Google why whole eggs go in drinks.

Your impromptu reservation had been scheduled later than you would normally go out. In fact, when you did, it’s usually a time you’d be in bed already. Even last night proved that to be true. The hour of the day, the unexpected emotion that a blocking from a stranger brought and the drink in your hands that you carry on consuming, brings along a fatigue that makes itself known to you.

From your improvised seat at the bar you can see Joel is tired too. The sweat that grasps onto his hairline and the strands of it sticking out of place makes you wonder how long his shift is. Other than the quick break you met him on, he hasn’t stopped moving. When there aren’t drinks to be made, there’s fruit to chop or a fridge to restock. The only time he leaves his workspace is to replenish his ice wells.

On one of those trips, he manages to take a second to check in. It’s good timing too; there’s hardly anything left in your glass but melting ice and lemon.  

“You allergic to anything? Can make you somethin’ else?” he proposes, almost breathlessly.

You bite down on your bottom lip trying to squash a grin before it has a chance to paint itself across your face.

“Penicillin” you chuckle truthfully.

“I’ll keep that in mind” he purses his lips together, standing with his hands on his hips again.

Swiping the glass away from you, he dumps any remaining contents into the sink below his waist before setting it on the tray. His grip lingers around it and his thumb rubs at the stain of your plum lipstick on the edge, smearing the oil of it further around the rim. His eyes settle on your lips before darting upwards to meet your gaze under a furrowed brow as you look on intently.

“What’s next?” he sighs, wiping his hands on the cloth that hangs from the side of his apron.

“I…have no idea” you admit. You did look at the menu, but draw a blank on all of it.

He carries on studying you while he formulates a drink with your pleasure potentially at stake. You thought he might know what you like and what you don’t, what makes your mouth water and what dries it out. It won’t matter what he puts in front of you, you’ll try it.

You can tell he’s made a decision when he proceeds to turn away from you and begins to gather materials. Glassware, three bottles of various shapes and sizes all poured over crushed ice tied together with two of those cherries on a skewer. There’s no stirring or shaking involved – no show.

In all, it probably takes under a minute before he serves it in front of you, leaving again only to come back with a red and white striped paper straw. He slides it down the edge and leaves you with that signature nod. It’s a silent cheers. A silent you’re welcome. A silent enjoy.

Learning to leave those cherries until the end, you take them off and set them on the napkin. They’re to be savored.

The drink itself is a deep crimson. On first taste it’s all cherry. Then a hint of vanilla follows and after that the slight flavor of the alcoholic base that could be vodka or gin. It’s difficult to tell over the sweetness. It’s the sugar rush you need and decadence you crave. Your eyes close at the combination of delicious flavors all running over your tongue.

As you open your eyes, he’s watching this time. Taking in how your lips keep wrapping around the straw and how the liquid moves down the glass, down your throat while he pops the cap off a bottle of beer with a bar blade clenched in his fist. You can feel your cheeks beginning to burn under his glare, turning shades to match the color of the drink.

Averting your gaze, you open and flick through the pages of the menu again to find its name. It looks similar to the one you considered ordering yesterday. There are cocktails with the ingredients in them separately but not together.

You want to ask, you want to pick his brain about all of it but you lose him to another onslaught of orders. Each drink at his fingertips is made to be cherished. None of them are drinks you knock back in a mouthful.

They’re made to be laughed over, to reminisce over memories with, to accompany a deep conversation, and to be discussed themselves. Why certain elements of them compliment each other and why some don’t. He knows all of these things. So far, you’ve only come to know what you like and what you could take or leave – a lesson of sorts in itself. Though your mouth is content, your thirst for answers hasn’t yet been quenched.

Time seems to move faster inside these four walls. Like you aren't just coming to the end of your second drink. Like you haven't spent most of your night watching a stranger do their job because just as you lift the cherries to your lips, the lights flick on and off twice signally last orders.

Eventually, waiters start to drop checks to tables and customers pay their tabs. The tip jar beside the register starts to fill with bills. Slowly, people start to peter out of the building to carry on their night somewhere else or head home satisfied. You fish your own debit card out from your jacket pocket and absentmindedly tap the edges of the counter waiting on your check, preparing to say goodbye again. Somehow, over everything, he hears it.

“Hang around for thirty minutes. I can give you a ride home” he offers, taking your card and running it through the register as he carries on speaking.

“I can get an Uber don’t worry about it”

“Tough ‘round here on a Saturday. Trust me”

"Alright. Thanks" you accept.

As the evening draws to an end for you and everyone else, the same applies to your bartender. His earlier choreography slows down to a lazy waltz. He’s not frantically reaching for bottles from the shelves behind him or mixing anything. He doesn’t have to crack the heel of his palm against solid steel to open tins.

One by one, he polishes his own fingerprints off the bottles he’s used so they continue to gleam under the lights. All of the fresh fruit goes back into the fridges behind him. His tools get thrown into another tray along with the glasses that waiters collect and bring to the back. The stainless steel gets dismantled, sprayed, and wiped down. Lids get screwed on jars of olives and cherries. Everything has its place.

When the curtain closes behind the last couple to exit, the host turns up the lights and the room illuminates. The details that the candlelight failed to highlight are visible. He’s visible now. There’s more shades of gray in the scruff around his jaw than you caught sight of last night. The little cuts that have healed and turned into shiny scars on his hands where he’s nicked himself with a knife shine under the bright fluorescence and the shirt that's survived another round of battle against his the expanse of his shoulders.

The saxophones and pianos stop playing next. It makes the deep breath he takes through puffed out cheeks more noticeable while he stares out at the empty venue - a decent night's work. It’s quickly followed by the sounds of the metal clasps holding his apron in around his legs being undone. He lifts it over his head and soothes his chest where the strings had been pulled taut against his frame all evening. His white shirt sticks to patches around his chest with sweat and he pulls the tails of it out from his black jeans.

“Fifteen minutes, tops” he promises you, taking the cash drawer from the register and disappearing through a door at the far end of the room.

While you wait, the waiters work their way through the last tasks of their shift around you, scraping candle wax off tables and rearranging chairs. Even with the crowd gone there’s a warm atmosphere that hangs around – there’s still an odd sense of belonging regardless of the fact you’re not meant to be here still.

It’s easier to read some of the labels on the bottles and admire their logos and shapes. Between two bottles of coffee liqueur there’s a tiny plush sheep. With everything else that surrounds it should look out of place but it doesn’t. It looks at home just as much as the art deco light fixtures.

Joel returns just as he’s pulling down a black t-shirt over his stomach with one hand and a throwing a backpack over his shoulder with the other.

“Ready?”

“Yeah” you answer through the smile that seeing the sheep brought upon you.

He does one last lap of the floor, flicking switches and setting alarms.

“Let’s get out of here” he says, beckoning you towards the exit.

After giving him your address, the drive is quiet. People still line the streets of the downtown area, some are probably only beginning their night, some are ending it but you’re happy with the way yours is closing.

“You ever hear from your guy?” he quizzes, eyes narrowed and fixed straight ahead on the road.

“No”

“Fuckin apps” he curses, shaking his head in disapproval. “Should stay off of ‘em”

“That’s why you brought me back, Joel? A lecture?” you tease.

“No. I wanted to apologize”

“For what?”

“If Rico could have just held on, you could have gotten another drink”

“I did, didn’t I?”

The rest of the drive is silent. There’s no music on the radio, the only sounds come from other cars whooshing past and the tapping of his thumb on the steering wheel when he hits a red light. He probably needs the lack of noise after a shift, after people shouting in his ear and listening to ice cubes thumping off each other all night so you write of the idea of asking the questions that had been brewing in your mind since early morning.

It’s not long before he turns onto your block and his truck pulls to a halt at the corner.

“This you?”

“This is me” you lie. You live around the corner but you’d walk the rest of the way. From previous dates, old habits die hard. “Thanks, Joel. For tonight”

“No problem”  

“Hey. The sheep. What’s that about?” you ask, indulging yourself in one question.

“A pipe dream” he answers, calmly.

Music Suggestions

Just for a Day - TM Juke

Roy Roy - Twit One

Because - The Cancel

I Wanna Go Back - Onra

Song For Her Joy - Q Funktion

Menu

ALWAYS DRINK RESPONSIBLY.

Penicillin

Ingredients:

2 oz / 60mls of scotch (Chivas Regal, Johnnie Walker)

¼ oz / 5-10mls of single malt scotch (Ardbeg)

¾ oz / 20mls of lemon juice

¾ oz / 20mls of honey ginger syrup**

Lemon rind

Method:

Pour the scotch, lemon juice and syrup into a shaker with ice and shake. Have fun with it, dance with it, lean with it, rock with it.

Strain into a tumbler filled with ice. Over the top, add the malt scotch and garnish with a lemon peel.

**Honey ginger syrup recipe:

A decent piece of ginger root, peeled

½ cup of water

½ cup of honey

Method:

Put it all in a pot and bring to the boil. Reduce the heat and simmer for five minutes and allow to cool. Strain it and keep it in the fridge. This is really good in teas in winter.

The Imbibe (TBD)

Ingredients:

2 oz / 60mls vodka or gin

¾ oz / 20mls of cherry liqueur (Cherry Herring)

¾ oz / 20mls of vanilla liqueur (Galliano)

Luxardo cherries

Method:

In a tall glass filled with ice (doesn’t have to be crushed, just whatever you have) pour all the above in and stir. Garnish to your heart’s content with the amount of cherries. That’s it. Easy peasy. You can mess around with the amounts of liqueurs depending on how you want it. Almond liqueur would also work in place of vanilla.

Non-alcoholic Mule

Ingredients:

2 oz / 60mls pineapple juice

1 oz / 30mls lime juice

Ginger beer

Method:

Fill a glass with ice. Pour over the pineapple and lime juice and top with the ginger beer.  Again, you can mess around with the amounts of the juices here to your liking. Voila!

ALWAYS DRINK RESPONSIBLY.

[uglypastels]

eddie getting his wisdom teeth pulled !! you know what im talking about !!!

double combo deal with a request for a reader who is scared of the dentist so Eddie goes with her :)) hope you enjoy it. i am kind of about to pass out since its 2 am so this might not be perfect haha, but if anything that might just add to post-op Eddie

warnings: swearing, friendly teasing, pillow fight/playful hitting, in casual conversation the mention of sexual content [masturbation, oral] and innuendos. dentistry, the mention of getting teeth pulled out [obviously]. mention of deep anaesthetic.

masterlist // join taglist // inbox

It was no secret that Eddie Munson had a very… daredevil spirit. He also had a lot of curiosity that needed to be filled up, which ended up with him trying many things people would never even have considered in their wildest dreams. It was a miracle that he had not ended up in the hospital. 

Another thing about Eddie you should, and do, know. He likes to have a good time. And what an excellent time to be had if it's enhanced with a little extra. His go-to was weed, special K if he felt very adventurous (and bored), and he had dabbled in some other things. But there was one thing he still had not done. 

'You are insane,' was your immediate response to his newest suggestion. 'Like, actually, clinically insane.' 

'Oh c'mon, I think it's gonna be a great time, and you're going in already, so why not hit two stones with one bird.' 

'Two birds with one stone.' 

'Where has your imagination gone, y/n,' he sighed, leaning back on the sofa. You just stared at him, dumbfounded. 'Anyway, I already made the appointment, so, go cry about it.' 

'The fuck you didn't– Eddie!' you threw, no, actually, you just hit him with the pillow repeatedly. 'Why are you such a moron.'

'I'm doing you a favour here, missy.' he pointed at you, the joint hanging casually between his fingers. 'When you're up there, worrying about me getting high off my ass, you'll be too busy freaking out when he's drilling into you, so, hard.' He made some suggestive movements and emphasised groans to pull in the joke even better, which resulted in another hit with the fluffy pillow from you. 

'You're a moron, Eddie Munson.' you said every word between a hit until he stopped you by bringing his hand forward and catching the pillow mid-movement. 

'And you,' he blew the smoke out over your face, 'need to come up with some better insults.' His mind was set in stone; there was no going back. His idiotic plan was set into motion, 

And what was this plan?

  Well, you saw it all happen the following Thursday, when both of you skipped class, legally for once, and were sitting in the waiting room of the dentist's office. Your leg bounced around as Eddie looked through a magazine– a cosmo, unfortunately for you, reading some of the articles aloud for everyone else in the room to hear. 

'Tip number six, 6. "Don't let stressing about an orgasm ruin the fun:

''Masturbate clitorally to orgasm before having intercourse. If it is possible, let your lover masturbate you—" hey, I wasn't done with that!' He said as you ripped the pages out of his hands. 

'No, I think you were actually, Jesus, Munchie.' you put the magazine back in the rack of others, letting the pretty blue eyes of the lady on the cover staring right back at you. Eddie was giggling when you sat back down. 'Do you have no self-respect?' You hissed out now, feeling the need to compensate with silence for Eddie's boisterousness. 

'I'm not the one who put those things on display at the fucking dentist,' he leaned over and whispered back, but still quite loudly. 'Also, I'm hungry.' 

'Too bad.' You had told him to eat before, but no, his stubborn little ass just had to go against everything you suggested. And the smoke he joined right before getting to the dentist's office was probably not helping his appetite. God, this was such a bad idea. 

Not that you had anything to do with it. You were just an innocent bystander, trying to get their filling fixed. Meanwhile, the degenerate besides you had already gotten stoned out of his mind as he pregamed for what was to come. You didn't know if your nerves were coming from your own appointment or what Eddie was getting into. 

You had pulled two other magazines out of Eddie's grip before a door opened and a man in a white coat walked up, looking at his clipboard. 'Munson?' He looked up, finding Eddie raising his hand. No, but you were supposed to be getting your procedure done first. This wasn't right. 

'I'm sorry, but he had had an appointment at 4, while mine is at…' you checked the clock that read quarter to 4, 'well, now.' 

'Don't worry, Dr Fields will be with you shortly. You'll be in room 3, most likely,' the doctor said, leading Eddie to the door where a number 4 was written. Close enough. But you still wanted to protest. That was why you had come together, so he could support you while you then could watch over him as he burned up some more of his brain cells with this ludicrous experiment. 

Eddie turned around just before walking into the room, giving you a thumbs up. You smiled weakly and waited another few minutes for your dentist, Dr Fields, to show up with his little clipboard. Then, it was time to face your fears. 

The procedure went smoothly, thankfully. You lay down in the chair as they blinded you with the bright light for about ten minutes. You tried to breathe steadily through your nose, ignoring the taste of the gloves in your mouth. Instead, you concentrated on Eddie, who was in the room next to yours, getting his damn wisdom teeth pulled out. You could still not believe he was doing it, and for what? Just to feel how it is to be high on the anaesthesia. 

No, not entirely true. He had been recommended to get the procedure done, but it wasn't necessary… but it was enough for Eddie to take the opportunity and go for it. How often would this opportunity present itself before him again? 

Your mouth felt numb and sore at the same time as you thanked your dentist and got out of the room, kind of hoping Eddie would be waiting outside for you, but he was still in the procedure room. You could hear the machines whirring from inside. So, even though you had been done already and wanted nothing more but to leave the place, you stayed behind in the waiting room, counting down the minutes until that other doctor would come out and tell you to pick your Eddie up and get home. 

But time wouldn't move, or so it seemed, so you picked up a magazine– the same Cosmpolitan Eddie had been reading you– and flipped through the pages, ignoring the all-knowing glint the receptionist was giving you. That is not what you had been looking for. Instead, you wanted to see the personality quiz at the back.  

After figuring out that "yes, you do have to dump him", you put it away on the seat next to you and stared at the door. The feeling in your cheek was coming back. Not much later, and you could probably smile again correctly. 

And then you heard the machines stop making their awful sounds, and the doctor walked back out, almost surprised to see you as if he expected Eddie to step out of there alone. 

'Is he ok?' you got up, already prepared to walk in. 

'Yes, yes, of course. He might  still be a bit loopy, so don't be too rough on him for the next few hours.' 

'Right.' You could feel your mouth tug irregularly on one side as it was still out cold. But you walked past the dentist and into the room where Eddie was sitting. 

'Hey,' you said softly so as not to startle him, but this was Eddie you were talking about; of course, he would be the one to scare you with his loud call of your name. It made you wince, even. It was unexpected for him to see him have so much energy after that. 

'y/n, c'mere.' He waved his hand to you until you were close enough that his knee touched yours. He took your hand in his, swaying it broadly from one side to the other; his heavy lids covered his eyes that followed as your hands moved. 'How do I look?' He asked, looking back at you. There was no thought behind his eyes, which were big and hazy, out of focus. His smile was a bit misformed by what had been performed on his mouth, cotton pads filling up his cheeks, which distorted some of his speech.

'Puffy...' you suggested the word, not sure how else to describe him. But for some reason, well, a clear one, Eddie found it hilarious and started giggling, then laughing, harder and louder, until he had to stop because it hurt his mouth. 

'You think you're good to go home?' you asked him once his pain had subsided. 

'Mhm,' and to prove himself, Eddie got up from the chair. He wobbled around a bit, reaching out for your shoulder to hold on to, but he was stable. 'You know,' he giggled again, as if the pain had already been forgotten (which it most likely was), 'that guy drilled me so hard.' 

'Did he now?' you asked, giving him your best trying-to-sound-impressed voice and face while really you were just trying to figure out how you would get this half-conscious man into your car. 

'He drilled me good, y/n. So good.' Of course, he had said it in the middle of the waiting area you were passing through, making the people that had now taken your waiting seats stare at him (and, therefore, you in association) in horror. You tried to give them your most apologetic smile while escorting Eddie out of the building. 

'Please tell me you are at least feeling good,' you groaned as he pushed all his weight onto you. 

'Oh, yeah, I feel fantastic,' he slurred, and you could tell he wasn't lying. Mostly because his mind was so far gone by the anaesthesia that he probably didn't have the brain capacity to form lies, but also because he did seem to look good—all wild and free and happy like he usually did on a high. 

'Well, that's good to hear then,' you managed to get your carkeys and opened the door for Eddie, who slipped right into the passenger seat. He played with the belt buckle, getting it stuck around him a few times, but you helped with that too. 

'You're pretty,' Eddie said, to which you replied with a "you're welcome", as you had expected him to say something around the realm of a thank you.

'Sorry, I mean, thanks,' so you quickly recovered, going to the other side of the car to get in yourself and behind the wheel. 

'You're welcome,' he said. 'Sorry, I mean, thanks.' ah, so he was just repeating you; that wouldn't get old any time soon. Surely not by the time you reached the traffic lights at the corner of the building, about a minute later. 

'Eddie,' you'd say. 

'Eddie' would be his response to this. Until he didn't and started to repeat your name. 'y/n, y/n, y/nnn,' he slurred his words again, not clear whether it was because of his fatigue or the wooziness that came with the sedation. 

'What is it, Munchie?' you asked him, taking a turn. 

'This feels really good.' he said, head against the headrest, turned to face you as you drove. 

'Yeah?' it felt like you were about to have a repeat of the previous conversation in the dentist's office and that Eddie was about to start talking about getting drilled by that dentist, but no. 

'I'm really happy that you're here.' he said, shocking your system. As another traffic light turned red, you looked over at him. His eyes had gained some focus again and were looking straight at you. 

'Oh, of course, I'm here.' the lights turned green, and you drove on. 

'Good. Don't ever leave me, ok?' he started playing with his hair, mindlessly chewing it, which you could not imagine did not hurt him. 

'I'm not going anywhere, Munchie,' you promised him. 

'You better don't. What would I do without you?' 

'Maybe not get high on general anaesthesia?' 

thank you for reading

@spiderrrling @theglitterymess @dorianelizabeth @theletterhart @niyahwhoreworld @chatnoirfangirl1624 @fopdoodle1624 @pastel-abyss-x @ghoulsgraveyard @prettytoxix @lovesickollie @xbreezymeadowsmunsonx @ssanjuniperoo @nxrdamp @meaganjm @yourmommilf @mischiefmanagers @roseyykris @capybergara @brother-lauren @h0sh1verse @ghostlyreads @croweaterr @ladyapplejackdnd @bilesxbilinskixlahey @kbakery @sleeping-willlow @lizzylynch1 @liltimmyst @hellfire-state-of-mind @escape-in-time-x @miscelaa @sweetpeapod @the-a-word-2214 @eddiemunsonbby @wh0re4munson @eddiesdingus @zoeyquinn94 @munsonmunchies @overthewhiteclouds @wroteclassicaly @groupies-do-it-better @stitchity @celestialsxturn @hoe4eddiemunson @inanausomewhere @witchyrivers @scoops-harrington @fluffyharrington

[halfway-happyyy]

I just got my wisdom teeth out and was wondering if I could have either a rooster or hangman fic with reader who just had her wisdoms out too! The chipmunk look is not it.

oh friend, i feel your pain!! i got mine out 2 years ago and it was brutal. wish i had a hunky pilot to nurse me back to health! hope you recover fast!! warnings include- mentions of blood, IV's, and all the lovely things that come with having your wisdom teeth out.

You took a deep breath and let your finger hover above the name of the contact in your phone.

“You can and should call me anytime.”

Pressing his name, you waited with bated breath while the dial tone sounded in your ear. He picked up on the third ring. “Hello?”

“Hi, Jake…” you murmured breathlessly. You could make out the distinct ruffle of bedsheets in the background, as the elder pilot whispered something to someone in the background.

“Good morning kid,” he stifled a yawn. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your early morning wake-up call?”

You cringed at the notion that you had disturbed him from something important. “Listen- I need to have my wisdom teeth pulled tomorrow morning and the person who was supposed to take me…”

“Can’t anymore?” he finished for you.

You nodded dumbly. “That’s exactly right. And I would take myself except that I’ll be sedated and groggy and I probably shouldn’t drive- so I was wondering if you might be able to drop me off and bring me home?”

A female voice could be heard above the crackle of the phone wire, the realization of it caused your cheeks to burn warmly. Jake simply ignored her. “Of course, I can. What time tomorrow morning?”

You chewed anxiously at the edge of your bottom lip. “11 am.”

“See you tomorrow morning, kid.”

*

The drive to the clinic had been quiet, the silence punctuated only by short stretches of conversation. “I’m sorry to have bothered you yesterday… I wasn’t sure who else I could have called save for a taxicab or something.”

Jake frowned down at the speedometer and shook his head. “Nonsense. I’m uh… glad that you called. I’m glad that I was able to be able to do this today. Besides,” He added, and proceeded to signal right, shoulder check and move into the right lane. “I made your brother a deal when you moved to San Diego to keep an eye on you- and that is exactly what I intend to do.”

You swallowed hard at the mention of your older brother and turned your attention to the scenery rushing past your window. “I miss him.” You confessed quietly, trying to keep your voice as even as possible.

Jake lifted his hand from the steering wheel as if to wrap it around your own, but something hindered him, and he let it drop back to the black leather wheel. “I do too.” Ten minutes had passed in silence when he pulled into a stall in front of the building and pushed the car into park. “Are you nervous?” He turned to speak to you now, the full power of his glassy green orbs caused any moisture in your mouth to evaporate on the spot.

“Quite, actually.” You admitted.

Jake smiled sympathetically. “It’ll be over before you know it, hm?” He reached over to brush a stray strand of hair behind your ear- the subtle brush of his fingertips left trails of fire in their wake, and you stifled a full-body shiver. “And on the bright side- they’re going to give you a bunch of great drugs to keep the pain at bay.”

He exited the vehicle and made his way around to your side of the door, holding it open for you. “You’ll be here when I’m finished?” you asked, and in that moment- you detested how scared and desperate your voice sounded.

Jake rubbed a reassuring hand in circles against your back. “I’ll be here, kid. As long as it takes.” As the nurse escorted you to an exam room, you watched the naval aviator drop into a chair by the window, a half-finished novel wedged firmly in his grasp.

*

“A warm blanket?” You raised an eyebrow in question at the nurse a few feet away from you, a blanket fresh from the dryer ready in her hands.

“Yes, honey.” She wrapped the warm fleece around your still frame, and surprisingly enough, it had brought a small amount of peace of mind.

The anesthesiologist took a seat next to your bed and rubbed an alcohol swab over a spot in your inner forearm. “This is going to pinch a little, but then you’re going to get very sleepy. Are you ready?”

“Yes.” You murmured, despite your immense apprehension.

He slid the IV into your arm, and as the anesthesia made its way into your veins, your whole body suddenly became very cold. You were astonished at how tired you became so fast- and then your entire world faded to black.

“Hi honey- the surgery is all over. You can wake up now.” You came to, to the sensation of someone shaking your arm rather abruptly. Your mouth was more swollen than it had ever been in your life, and you struggled to put a face to your location. “Where- where am I?” you managed to make out.

“You’ve just had your wisdom teeth taken out, darling. You’re at a dental clinic.”

Dismayed, you murmured, “Can I… have them back?”

The nurse pulled the blanket from your body and fit a Band-Aid over the wound in your arm from the IV. “Can you have what back?”

Your thoughts felt as though they needed to swim through an ocean before they could exit your mouth. “My teeth… can I have them?” You could not, for the life of you, figure out why this was such a difficult concept for her.

“Oh, honey no… they’re gone.”

Gone? Where on earth did they go?

You had been about to push her further on the mystery of your missing molars when a patient next to you had been roused from their sedation, and had begun eliciting loud, groggy groans.

“Jake…” you murmured wearily. “I’d like to see my… Jake now.”

The nurse nodded her head and moved to help you off the gurney. “He’s just waiting for you behind the door, honey.”

Sure enough, when she opened the door to the back of the clinic, Jake was already waiting for you. “There she is,” He smiled and stood from his position at the bench. “How’d you do, kid?”

You watched his figure approach you- watched the way the sleeves of his worn t-shirt stretched out around his toned biceps. You had always been in awe of him, but this? This was too much. The nurse cleared her throat and passed him over a small slip of paper, and a large pack of gauze. “This is a prescription for Toradol and Tylenol 3’s. Please have her alternate between the two every three hours, to keep on top of the pain.” Jake read the paper and then simply slipped it into the back pocket of his jeans.

“Anything else I should be aware of?”

The nurse gestured to you. “Swelling is absolutely expected and should return to normal in a few days from now. Keep an eye on her temperature and check the gauze every hour or so. If her sutures aren’t clotting and her bleeding is excessive, take her to a hospital. No straws, or excessively cold or hot foods.”

“No ice cream?” You gasped and could feel the warm prickle of tears in the depths of your eyes.

“Thank you.” Jake smiled politely and watched the nurse leave. He dropped to his knees to help you get your boots on. “How are you feeling?”

“How am I feeling?” You mumbled, not entirely aware of how much the gauze was making you lisp. “I feel like I’m missing a piece of myself.”

Jake stifled a chuckle. ���Beg your pardon?”

“They took my teeth Jake. They just… ripped them from my mouth and stole them.”

“They needed to come out kid.” He hooked an arm around your frame and helped you out the backdoor to his waiting car. “They were super impacted.”

You shook your head. “At my last consultation they told me that if they came out intact… that I could have them,” You ran a finger over the top of your numb lip. “I miss them…”

Jake succeeded in getting you buckled into your seat and made his way around to the driver’s side. Once settled, he turned to you and gestured to the radio. “Is there anything you’d like to listen to on the way home?”

You thought for a moment. “You know that old western song about the big iron on his hip?”

Jake seemed clueless, so you attempted to hum it for him. “Yeah- I’m just going to type it into Spotify and see what comes up, okay?”

You nodded, numbly. “Hurry please. I just want to forget about my missing teeth.”

You had been too tired to notice Jake’s muffled laughter.

Coming to for the second time that day, it was to the realization that Jake had managed to get you from the car to your apartment without your recollection. “Hi, kid.” He murmured. Your side of the bed dipped under his weight as he found himself a seat next to you. “Let’s check that gauze, okay? Open up, please.”

Groggily, you did as you were told and watched his face drop the smallest bit. “Oh, definitely time for a change-out.” He reached for the packet of gauze next to the table and rolled two pieces up into long sticks. He then pulled the soggy, bloody pieces from your mouth and dropped them into the garbage can next to your bed.

“Oh my god,” you groaned.

Jake shook his head, his jaw set. “Don’t even think about it. It’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad? They were soaked in blood!”

He sighed heavily. “Yeah well, you just had surgery on your mouth, kid. There is bound to be blood. But it looks like they’re clotting okay, so you’re on the right track.” He rubbed a warm thumb over the back of your hand. “Would you like to try some water and Toradol? How is your pain?”

“What time is it?”

Jake glanced at the watch on his wrist. “2:43.”

You tried to gauge your pain by biting down softly on the raw skin, which caused you to whimper quietly. “Yeah, I’ll have some water.”

Jake nodded finitely and stood from the bed to head to the kitchen. He returned moments later with a glass of water and a pill in his hand.

“God, you’re good-looking.” you sighed as he came further into view.

“And you, are about to be on some pretty hefty painkillers, kid.”

You shook your head. “That won’t change a thing, Jake.”

He settled down on the bed beside you and tapped your chin gently. “Open up, please.” Doing as you were told; he placed a small white pill on the flat of your tongue and slid a water glass into the crook of your open hand. “These are going to make you sleepy I think.”

You took a hearty swig of the water and swallowed the pill, eying the sticks of gauze on the bed that Jake had already rolled. “Would you mind inserting them back in?”

His gaze followed yours and he nodded his head. “Of course.” Once that was done, and he had tucked you firmly back into bed, he stood to leave. “Can I bring you anything else?”

You could already feel the familiar pull of your eyelids- sleep loomed above you like a warm rain cloud. “No… but could you stay with me?”

He hesitated at the doorway- you almost expected him to decline, but then he turned on his heal and sidled into bed beside you. His presence alone was like a safety blanket; nothing untoward could happen to you if he was there. You slowly drifted off to the feeling of his impossibly large, warm, fingers brushing through your hair. “Hey Jake?” you mumbled sleepily.

“Mhm?”

“Who do you think has my teeth?”

You did not miss the way his shoulders shook with silent laughter. After a while he cleared his throat and said, “I’m not sure, kid. Maybe the clinic employs a tooth fairy and instead of money you get…”

“You get Jake’s.” you yawned.

And before he could respond to that, you had already drifted off.

Evening had come fast- when you awoke a few hours later, night had fallen, and your apartment was permeated with the mouth-watering scent of homemade chicken noodle soup. Jake stood in the doorway of your bedroom and you smiled dopily at him. “Hi there.”

He happily returned your smile. “Hi, kid. Let’s see how that gauze is doing, hm?” He closed the distance quickly, and you were already open wide. Again, he pulled the sodden ones from your mouth and discarded them, settling a warm hand over your thigh. “Are you hungry at all? I made some soup…”

You nodded. “Quite hungry, actually.”

“Alright then, I’ll be back momentarily.”

You watched his figure disappear from frame, could hear cupboards and drawers opening in the distance. When he returned, he was laden with two steaming bowls of soup, and a bed tray. You ate mostly in silence- you could not remember the last time someone had cooked for you, and you reveled in that notion for the entire meal. Your mouth was sore, and you felt grotesquely swollen, but you knew that eventually it would pass. “Thanks a lot for this, Jake.”

He shrugged as he scraped the spoon around the bottom of his empty bowl. “No worries. It was my mum’s recipe.”

You shook your head. “Not just for the soup, Jake… but for everything.”

He took your empty bowl and made for the direction of the kitchen. “Don’t mention it kid.”

After dinner, Jake helped you to your bathroom so that you could rinse your mouth out with the bright green, medicated mouthwash they had prescribed you. You took a Tylenol 3 in preparation for sleep, and he helped you get into your pajamas and settle right back into your down duvet. A gentle summer rain had begun to patter against your glass window, and you felt lulled by the staccato of it. Thinking back to your phone call to him yesterday morning, your cheeks grew warm in mild embarrassment. “I uh… I’m sorry for interrupting you yesterday.”

It took him a moment to reply. “You didn’t.”

“She sounded beautiful.”

Jake hummed contentedly next to you and let a few moments pass before he leaned over and pressed a warm kiss to the edge of your swollen jawline. “She couldn’t hold a candle to you, kid.”

The only thing that seemed to calm your racing heart, was the notion that when the sun rose to greet you in the morning, she would also greet the wonderfully warm, and kind man next to you.

[faithinchances]

Tagged by @jamiesfootball to share first line of ten pieces. I'm keeping it just to unplublished Ted Lasso.

1- Working Title Jamies dukes it out with VVD

There was a kid standing in the tunnel.

2- Working Title Georgie/Simon host for the EDS

She didn’t really sound English, the woman in the front of the car.

3- Working Title Jamie and Bex

By the time Bex said, “So I think I’m a lesbian,” they’d already fucked, cuddled while gross, gotten cleaned up, cuddled but not gross this time, and Jamie had started to doze off.

4- Working Title Sam's Wisdom Teeth

Someone was pulling the IV out of his hand, Sam noted dimly.

5- Real People

Etihad Campus boasted more offices and meeting rooms than anyone, ever, had cared to count, let alone Jamie, who’d always met with his agent at his agent’s office and Pep in Pep’s office.

6- Working Title Jamie Blackmails Richmond

The offer is very good, all things considered.

7- The first draft of Empty Spaces that I am considering reworking into a "Pep's early days with Jamie" fic.

Kun needed to be doing better than he was, and he wasn’t.

8- The chat fic inspired by The Downlow Fuckabout League by BelmotteTower and ScoatneyHall, for which you get what extra because no one uses periods when they're texting

[anon]: alright you lot, listen up [anon]: there’s a guy on my team who for a variety of personal reasons which are EXTREMELY valid and non-solvable will never be able to come out.

9- a bit of Critter-verse

It was with immense pleasure that David announced to the team, once they were all back in training in the leadup to Burnley at home, that he and Gaby were expecting.

10- a different bit of Critter-verse, which is technically four sentences but only one line so whatever.

“Hear me out, yeah? Hear me out.” Jamie spread his hands. “Ronaldo.”

[myreia]

Divergence of the Heart

CHAPTER THREE: COERTHAN WISDOM

Chapter Rating: Teen (full story rating is Explicit) Characters: Aureia Malathar (WoL), Aymeric de Borel, Thancred Waters, Hilda Ware Pairings: Aureia/Aymeric, Aureia/Thancred, Thancred/Hilda Chapter Words: 2,176 Notes: Set during the Heavensward patches. Summary: Aureia Malathar may have made a name for herself in Ishgard, but her deeds come with a hefty personal toll. Despite her victories at the Grand Melee she has never felt more unsure of herself. Her relationship with Thancred—the person she thought knew her the best—is strained, yet she cannot abandon him. Aymeric is falling for her harder with each passing day, yet she cannot bring herself to accept it. All may be fair in love and war, but at least war is predictable. Love on the other hand… Chapters: 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11 Read on AO3

The letter remains forgotten for weeks.

It wasn’t long after the Grand Melee that the next crisis Thancred feared so much raised its ugly head. Estinien’s dramatic return at Falcon’s Nest threw Ishgard into a panic. With her thoughts bent on stopping Nidhogg’s vengeance and severing his control of her friend, all other concerns were disregarded.

It was only by the skin of their teeth that they triumphed. The city remains scarred, the bridge to the Gates of Judgement shattered and broken. They came so close to losing everything. If they had not been so fortunate, if luck had not been on their side…

“Aureia.”

A softspoken voice, a gentle squeeze of her shoulder.

Pulling herself out of her thoughts, Aureia raises her head and glances up. Aymeric towers over her, a mug of steaming tea in his hands. Though he has barely visited his office since the battle on the Steps of Faith, he remains uniformed, his greatsword resting against the far wall. The candlelight catches his earring, the blue diamond casting a glint against his pale skin.

“Here,” he says, proffering the mug. “I thought you could use something before you fall asleep.”

Returning his smile, she takes the mug and raises it to her lips. The gesture sends a strange little warmth coursing through her chest that has nothing to do with the tea. It wasn’t that long ago that another dear friend had done just the same, granting her a moment of peace when she thought her life upended.

The circumstances now are quite different.

Aymeric settles into a chair next to her and sips quietly at his own mug. Together, they have stood vigil over Estinien’s sickbed, trading off with Alphinaud. Though the chirurgeons have assured them that he will make a full recovery, Aureia cannot shake the worry weighing on her shoulders. It is the same for all of them.

Estinien is too dear, too important. For Aymeric, he is the dear friend whose life he would end only as a final resort. For Alphinaud, he is the one he would save, the one he could not fail after Haurchefant’s death. And for Aureia herself… he is her staunchest ally who has dragged her out of more messes than she can count. She could not leave him to his fate. After everything he has done for her, she owed him that much.

“Thank you,” Aureia murmurs, sipping on the tea. The liquid is warm and pleasant, lightly spiced. It will keep her awake long enough for Alphinaud to return.

Aymeric settles into the chair next to her. “Though has occurred to me that if you wish to sleep, you should,” he says. “Please do not push yourself on my account—”

“And leave you here all on your own?” she interrupts, an affectionate smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Without me you are wont to do paperwork at Estinien’s bedside and we can’t have that, now can we? What would he say if he woke up to find you with your nose glued to a sheaf of parchment?”

He blushes, covering it with an awkward cough. “Glued is a fair bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think? It is not quite like that—”

“Your best friend nearly died and you’re here at his bedside in uniform. Even now, I can see you thinking. You may not have a pen to put to paper here, but I can see those wheels turning. In all this time I’ve known you, you have never stopped working.”

“I… have. At times.”

She sets down her mug and folds her arms. “Oh, really?” she replies, raising an eyebrow. A challenge. “When? Do tell, I’m dying of curiosity. And the times you have been thrown in prison or otherwise inconvenienced do not count.”

“I… well…” He presses curled knuckles to his mouth, a look of consternation crossing his face. “Lucia could tell you.”

Aureia snorts with laughter and shakes her head, barely able to contain her grin. “Oh, Aymeric,” she says, lightly touching his shoulder. “You make this too easy.”

He pauses, his gaze lingering on her hand. “Easy…?”

“I’m teasing,” she continues, picking up her mug. She shifts comfortably in her seat and settles into a slouched position, nursing her spiced tea. “I’ve known very few people with your will and determination. It’s admirable. But you must learn to take time for yourself before you wear yourself thin. Take it from someone who knows it all too well.”

Aymeric falls silent and sips his tea quietly, lost in thought. His gaze passes over Estinien, lingering on his sleeping face. “I will have to thank him when he wakes,” he says. “It is only thanks to his tomfoolery that we have been given a reprieve.”

“Perhaps. I’d advise against calling it tomfoolery or he might strike you with his lance.”

“Then it is a risk I must take.”

They exchange looks, sharing a small smile.

Aureia sets down her empty mug and loops a lock of black hair behind her ear, exposing the delicate point. It is hard to break the habit of hiding the most noticeable feature of her heritage while in Ishgard. Haurchefant warned her, all those months ago, that the nobility would not look fondly on her mixed heritage. Though it is easier now than it was then, even her status and fame are not enough to dissuade the murmurs and stares.

But in the company of friends, she is free to be herself. Aymeric has never judged her, not even when she was a stranger. He has his own burdens of parentage, as she knows all too well. Perhaps they have a commonality, in that way.

She’s all too aware of the way he watches her now, observing her with that quiet, familiar wonder. Thancred once called it a look of boundless relief and joy, irritably calling out Aymeric’s inability to hide his own emotions. She was infuriated with him then, too bothered by this soured version of his customary wit to think much of what he said. But now she recalls… Did he realize something that she did not?

Gods, help me, I think it might be love. One would think a politician more practiced at concealing his emotions.

The realization hits her like a slap to the face.

Aureia freezes, her heart pounding fitfully in her chest. Exhaling a breath, she adjusts her position in her chair and curls her fingers around the edge of her armrest. “Perhaps we should speak of something else?” she ventures carefully, fervently praying that her voice sounds casual. “Unrelated to duty or politics or…”

Shit.  

She trails off, cursing inwardly. This is more difficult than she thought.

“There was one topic I wished to broach,” Aymeric says. He pauses, his gaze flickering once again to Estinien. He wets his lower lip, as if he if hesitant to speak his next words. “After the Grand Melee, I sent you a letter. As you did not respond, I thought perhaps that I had been too forward and presumptuous with my words, but then… I recalled the messenger’s youth and nervousness at approaching you alone. There was perhaps a chance that my letter never reached you.”

Aureia’s heart clenches. The letter! The letter…

“Fuck,” she blurts.

His brows raise in momentary shock. Then he collapses in a fit of laughter, a hand pressed to his face, his shoulders shaking.

“I’m so sorry!” Aureia continues, the words falling fast and furious from her lips. “Aymeric, I never intended to leave it unanswered, I… gods… fuck… I… I’m a fool and an idiot, and that is the only excuse I have. Nidhogg returned so soon afterwards, I don’t know how, but I—”

“It is all right, my friend,” he says, lowering his hand. He gazes joyously at her, his eyes shining bright. He is unable to contain his grin. “I had a feeling something of the sort had occurred. Consider us both fools and idiots, then, as I should have inquired much sooner than I did. This is the second time my invitation has fallen through. If I didn’t know better, I’d assume Halone herself was insistent that nothing ever come of it.”

She pauses, returning his gazes. Her heart flutters in her chest. Gods, what is wrong with her?

Aymeric shifts in his seat, drawing close to her. “Aureia,” he says. He rests a hand tentatively next to hers on the armrest, his fingers brushing hers. “If I may—”

The door creaks open. Reacting on instinct, Aymeric withdraws his hand and Aureia shifts to the edge of her chair, putting distance between them. They turn as one to face the threshold.

Alphinaud pokes his head through the door. “Uh, Lord Commander?” he says tentatively. “If I may have a word…?”

Aymeric gives her a knowing look and rises to his feet. “Of course, Master Alphinaud,” he replies. He crosses the room quickly and disappears through the threshold, closing the door behind him.

Aureia exhales a long breath and bows over in her seat, her palms pressed to her knees. Battling Garleans, confronting primals, defeating dragons… That is simple compared to the chaos of her own heart. Hilda once asked her if someone in Ishgard had caught her eye. Perhaps it wasn’t that someone has caught her eye. Perhaps it is that she has only now realized that someone has been there all along—

Her stomach plummets. She doesn’t want to think about Hilda. Or Thancred. Or whatever circumstances have pushed them together.

Thancred…

“Fuck,” she says.

He left Ishgard almost a month back. Their final conversation is still stark in her mind, leaving her numb if she thinks about it too long. She doesn’t know where they stand. Perhaps she could have loved him once, but not now. Not like this. The time for that passed them by.

He has made that all too clear.

“…you’re an idiot,” a rough voice says.

Aureia bolts upright, shocked out of her stupor. “Estinien?” she breathes, resting a hand on the edge of his bed.

The dragoon’s eyes remain closed, his face a sickly grey, his hands folded neatly on top of the covers. As always, he draws little breath, his chest barely moving. His lips crack open, broken and dry, and he coughs weakly.  

“Do me a favour and go with him for once. Give it a chance, for Fury’s sake. He will never shut up about you otherwise.”

Aureia grips the covers, twisting a fistful between her fingers. “Estinien—”

Too late. His head lolls on his shoulder, as if he had never woken.

The door opens. Aymeric and Alphinaud pass through the threshold, both with severe looks on their faces. Distracted as she is by Estinien’s words, Aureia can’t fathom what they’ve discussed.

“Let me take your place,” Alphinaud says, dropping into Aymeric’s chair. “You must be exhausted. Go and rest. I will notify you if he wakes.”

Aureia nods, mouth too dry to speak. Rising from her seat, she places a gentle hand on Alphinaud’s shoulder, then meets Aymeric’s eyes. He nods, shooting a sideways glance at the door, and collects his greatsword. She sweeps across the room, Aymeric only a few steps behind, and together they pass through the threshold and out into the hallway.

“You should know he woke very briefly,” Aureia says as they walk side-by-side. The flickering lamplight guides their steps, casting a golden glow across the cold stone walls.

Aymeric falls silent. Their footfalls echo together in a measured pace. “Did he speak?” he asks after a moment, a raw pain in his voice. “What did he say?”

“He cursed at me and fell asleep.”

He laughs weakly and inhales a shaky breath. “Of course. I would expect nothing less of him.”

“Aymeric—”

Aureia seizes his hand, pulling him to a stop, and raises her chin to meet his eyes. She is a good fulm shorter than him, if not more, the top of her head barely reaching his upper chest. He stares at her with a strangely wistful look in his eyes, and his hand brushes her cheek, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. They stand there for some time, alone in that hall, their profiles illuminated by lamplight, both frozen by hesitance.

“Aureia, perhaps a third time is too much, but I would ask again,” Aymeric says. “Have dinner with me.”

She pauses. Why is her heart aching? “And this time you may have my answer,” she replies. “I would be glad to. On one condition.”

“What?” he asks, sudden dismay in his voice.

Chuckling, she lifts up on tiptoe and pats his cheek. He will never not be easy to tease. “Let’s make it soon—before another crisis arrives to distract us.”

Aymeric smiles, quiet joy crinkling the corners of his eyes. “At the very least, I can promise you that,” he says, raising her hand to his lips. He gently kisses it and lets go. “Until then, my lady. Goodnight.”