#its a full drawing but everything just looks so off

[cherrycolored-punk]

WD - Chapter Two🦇

Masterlist

summary: is it possible to be haunted by a town? for it to sink its claws into you, and be felt whenever you close your eyes?

author's note: I’m a few hours late but here it is! I really enjoyed writing this chapter so I hope you love reading it. Please comment or reblog if you did! Support is always so appreciated 🖤

w/c: 2.5k

warnings: nightmares, mention of blood and injuries. please let me know if I missed anything!

The road into Hawkins is quiet except for the faint noise of cicadas in the distance. Their song plays low, a soft hum in the cool air. 

The only light is the full moon hanging in the night sky, illuminating everything with a white glow. It follows you, a quiet passenger, as you approach the Hideout—hesitant, heavy feet carrying you forward.

The building isn’t as it was before when you first saw it. 

The wood is all but rotted through, the thin boards warped and bent out of shape. Looking as though it could collapse in on itself. Cobwebs hang on nearly every surface, thick and dotted with corpses of bugs. Spiders crawl in and out of the crevices in the wood, searching for more sustenance. 

There is an unnerving silence that envelops you, the cicadas no longer singing. The wind still and heavy.

You take a shaky breath. 

It’s cold despite being the middle of summer, and you can see the evidence of your unease puffing out in white clouds in front of you.

You step through the front door, just as you had before. The space is dimly lit, and the red of the Coors Light sign creates an eerie glow in the otherwise pitch-black room.

Shadows dance in your peripheral, moving on the bar's edge, closing in on you until you can feel their presence like a whisper above your skin.

Dominating and suffocating.

You walk further into the Hideout, your legs feeling like they’re made of lead. 

A chill runs up your spine as your head whips around the space. 

“Eddie?” you whisper for the only person you know, but your voice echoes across the empty space.

The squeak of a floorboard makes your neck snap to the right. Listening, waiting. Trying to steady your breathing.

You are not alone.

The hairs on your arms stand on end, and your heart picks up pace. The same strange feeling that someone is watching you growing by the second.

You can feel them with you, their eyes following your frame.

Fingers dance across the back of your head and you turn around, breaths coming in unsteady gasps - finding no one behind you.

“H-hello?” You stammer, but you’re only met with silence. A never-ending quiet that feels like it consumes you.

A shiver runs up your spine as warm breath fans across your neck, and you feel something sharp run down your back.

The voice is loud as it calls your name. Haunting and overwhelming. A little hypnotizing, but you don’t dare turn around, eyes trained on the darkness as it steadily approaches. The red glow of the neon sign disappears.

The stench of rotting flesh fills your senses, making you dizzy with nausea, and you about fall to your knees when sharp fingers wrap around your neck. Their grasp cuts off your breath, digging into your throat.

The voice repeats your name. 

Closer. 

Louder.  

Angrier.

You feel your eyes begin to close as you drift into unconsciousness. Unable to breathe, unable to see. 

All you feel is darkness.

–

The alarm on your phone blares, the catchy pop tune a stark contrast to how you gasp awake, fingers clawing at your throat as your legs thrash beneath your sheets.

You sit up in bed, wide eyes dancing around the room, wondering if what you’re seeing is real or part of the dream.

A layer of cold sweat coats your skin, making the fabric of your t-shirt cling to your skin uncomfortably. Your chest heaves as you try to draw more air into your lungs, a disbelieving gaze searching for signs that you’re still stuck in your nightmare.

But the loud noise of the busy streets below your apartment reminds you that you’re home. You reach over to your nightstand, an absent finger tapping away until finally, the alarm quiets, and all you can hear is the white noise of the city.

A sigh of relief leaves your lips as your shoulders shrink from your ears, but your hand is still pressed to your throat. You can still feel its grasp, its nails clawing into your skin. The stench of its dead flesh still stuck in your nose, making your stomach turn.

You throw the comforter off your body, swinging your legs over the side of your bed and ignoring the way the cool air of the fan meeting your sweat slicked skin sends a shiver up your spine. Making your nausea that much worse. 

Your arms stretch over your head, but a sharp pain makes you freeze, face twist in growing agony. Automatically, your hand reaches for your back searching for the source of it all. Your fingers push under the fabric of your shirt, and you wince, a gnawing pain shooting through your body when your fingertips connect with a jagged mark starting at the bottom of your back.

What the fuck?

You rush off the bed, pulling your shirt above your head and turning your back towards the full-length mirror that leans against the wall near your closet.

For a moment, you’re scared to turn around. Already knowing what the mirror will reflect.

You take a steadying breath and place a hesitant chin on your shoulder, chancing a look down. 

Every muscle in your body tightens, your heart hammering against your ribs when you see the long gash that lines your spine. The blood is already crusted over, a deep maroon that stares back at you.

Flashes of your nightmare spring forward and you quickly pull your shirt back down, gaze trained on your hardwood floor.

Questions flooded your mind, none of which you had answers to.

What happened in Hawkins forty years ago?

Who or what was Eddie?

And what was the thing in your dream?

Matthew had mentioned an earthquake that decimated the town, but it felt like there was something more.

All you knew for sure was that there was something strange about the small town, something that lurked in the shadows, and for some reason, you could feel its malice. The evidence of which was marred into your skin.

You sat in front of your laptop and stared at the screen, the cursor blinking back at you as you debated what to search for first.

The easiest place to start was with Hawkins itself. Hurried fingers rush over the keys as you type into the search bar. 

Dozens of links loaded onto the screen. Headlines that gave a glimpse into the destruction, the loss that the town felt.

“Hell Is Upon Us”

“The Devil’s Gate”

“Nearly All Presumed Dead”

You read through each one, all of them containing the same details. An unprecedented earthquake, a death toll that only climbed as the days dragged on, and missing people who were never found presumed to be amongst the carnage.

“The town appears nearly split in half, a massive hole in the ground like a portal to hell.”

Pictures were attached, blurry images that showed the state of destruction from when it first occurred. Your eyes pour over the scene, widening when you see the giant crater that was once Hawkins. 

You scroll further and read through the names of those missing and presumed dead. 

Dustin Henderson.

Lucas Sinclair.

Steve Harrington.

Robin Buckley.

Ted Wheeler.

Karen Wheeler.

Nancy Wheeler.

Michael Wheeler.

Holly Wheeler.

Jesus, the whole family.

The list dragged on.

The few who survived relocated or were never heard from again.

And it was only when you saw his face that you knew it wasn’t a dream.

Eddie Munson stared back at you through your screen, a picture of him in black in white but with the same vivid gaze. The flyer detailed his appearance, height and weight—the color of his hair, the shade of his eyes. But you could still smell his cologne. 

You gulp, mind unable to grapple with the reality. Because you know you saw Eddie. Talked to him, flirted with him, but he was…a ghost? 

It didn’t make sense.

It was almost worse than him being a figment of your imagination because he was real, but he was dead.

You swallow the bile that rises in your throat and click the back arrowing, Eddie’s face disappearing when you do but stained on your vision.

You continue to scroll down the list of articles.

One link in particular catches your eye.

“No Return: Some Who Visit Hawkins Don’t Come Back.”

You click the link and are taken to a LiveJournal blog.

Above the title is a collage of missing faces, and amongst them are newer pictures of those who recently went missing. 

The blog entry details their disappearances with one common denominator: they all had ventured beyond Hawkins’ city limits and were never seen again.

You read through the accounts of their family and friends. The details the missing had once shared before they disappeared. 

A broken-down car on the edge of the town, an abandoned bar or store, ghostly encounters, and recurring nightmares. 

Your heart thuds against your chest, and you click on another blog entry. 

It’s a list of links, one of which leads to a YouTube channel. You click it curiously, recognizing the face of the narrator from the banner on the blog—one of the people who was now missing. 

Ryan Lancaster.

The video is dated two years ago and starts with a recounting of Hawkins’ history with a montage of the photos you’d seen in the articles you read before it cuts to a video of Ryan talking about his experience.

He’d entered on the opposite side of town as you, but not two miles in, his car broke down. His cell had no service, so he began to walk into town, hoping to find someone who could help or direct him to a mechanic shop.

He talked about how he wandered into a video store, excited because those were obsolete. Replaced with streaming.

The inside felt like stepping into a time capsule. He expected DVDs, but he found VHS tapes and two workers who he thought were pretending not to know what discs were. 

Ryan swears he wasn’t inside for over thirty minutes, but the sun had already gone down when he left. 

When he turned back around, the store was abandoned. There was no one in sight. No Robin or Steve, the two he’d just met.

An eerie feeling settles over you as you continue to watch the video.

He walked until his phone regained signal on the outskirts of town and called a tow service. 

The nightmares started two days later, and you can see the terrified look in his eyes. The way he stares off into space as he recalls the presence he can still feel.

It sends a shiver through your spine, a sense of dread pulling in your stomach.

He only found out about the town’s history when he searched online. Horrified to find that Robin and Steve were presumed dead for nearly forty years. 

So he was set on exploring the town, convinced that it was an undiscovered gem. Possibly one of America’s most haunted.

The video ends with him inviting viewers to continue to watch as he documents what he uncovers. 

You click on his page, and your heart stops when you read the next title. 

Six days after the first video is one titled Ryan is Missing…

You slam your computer shut and press your fingers into your temples, trying to massage the growing headache that throbbed against your skull.

None of it made sense; it felt like you were losing your mind.

There wasn’t a logical explanation for any of it, but you couldn’t ignore how you were drawn in. Like the town had a vice grip on you and refused to let you go. 

And part of you wants to reach back. To be dragged in. 

—-

The Hideout is busy…as busy as it can be for a Wednesday night. 

A haze of cigarette smoke clouds the space, making the light of the neon bar signs all the brighter—a red glow cast over the otherwise dimly lit bar.

Madonna’s Like a Prayer plays on the jukebox, and Eddie tries to hide how he bobs his head as he pours another beer. He has heard this one at least once a night since it came out.

Customers are scattered around the Hideout; a couple dancing, gazing at each other with drunken smiles. The same few drunks plopped into stools before him, downcast eyes staring into their drinks, watching how bubbles form and burst at its surface. Some pressed into the red vinyl seats that needed to be replaced. Making out or in deep conversation.

It is a typical Wednesday night, and Eddie is bored out of his mind. Praying for some excitement. A pretty girl, a funny drunk, a gnarly bar fight. Anything.

He huffs and stares at the ceiling, absently wiping circles into the wood surface of the bar—persistent rings threatening to break down the varnish. 

He is tempted to begin ripping dollar bills from where they are pinned to the ceiling, betting that there’s at least two hundred dollars there. It’s not a lot, but it’s enough to get him the hell out of Hawkins. 

“Munson,” one of the regulars grumbles and breaks his trance. 

Eddie points his bored, hooded gaze in the man’s direction. His chin resting on the palm of his hand.

“Another?” He asks, already pushing off his elbows and reaching for the man’s mug.

“You know me,” the man chuckles, hiccuping and tilting back in his seat. 

Eddie fills the glass to the brim with the cool, amber liquid. 

“That I do, Roy,” but Eddie can’t give him a full smile as he slides the filled mug in front of the man. 

Roy pushes a five-dollar bill towards the curly-haired bartender.

“Towards your tab?” Munson asks, holding up the money, but the man shakes his head.

“A tip,” the man holds up his mug in cheers, and Eddie tilts an appreciative chin in his direction before reaching for his wallet.

He pulls the black leather from the back pocket of his jeans and unfolds it to push the five into the bill hold. 

His hands freeze, his gaze trained on a bill he’d never seen before. 

Where did you come from?

Eddie pulls it from his wallet, dropping the leather onto the bar top as he examines the money. 

The note is so different from the one he was just given; a bigger portrait of Lincoln, the bald eagle situated behind the president, and the money far more colorful.

His eyes turn to slits as he peers closer, looking for signs of forgery because there is no way it is real. 

And then he sees it, the small writing right next to Good Ol’ Abe—series 2024.

No fucking way.

How did you get here?

His heart thunders against his ribs, and he shakes his head as he closes his eyes—images of a girl, her smile, the smell of her perfume. The way she looked up at him with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Why do you look so familiar?

It feels like he’s grasping for a memory that feels more like a dream because he would’ve remembered you.  

Eddie swallows hard and opens his eyes, his gaze darting around the bar.

The scene is just like any other Wednesday, but why does he feel like he’s lived this moment before?

-

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[inumakkin]

" she looks like she wants to kill me"

" who doesn't want to kill you "

[francy-sketches]

I'm gonna have to work on my final project non stop for like a month straight bc I procrastinated on it too much fuck my stupid baka life

[hauntingblue]

I have connected two dots... yamato kaido and momo (and kinda shirahoshi with her top) have clouds above their shoulders... and luffy in gear fourth has them also.... I can see the signs

[quibbs126]

Aight, so here’s the thing I wanted to discuss and why I was looking at the Black Citadel assets, namely a thought I had about the Sovereign of Darkness and how they could appear

So we know that Pomegranate says something that possibly hints towards the Sovereign when Dark Choco leaves, as I’ve mentioned before

Thing is, he leaves it behind, meaning this wouldn’t just happen on its own, and something would have to happen to him. But I mean, I think we all know that, right?

Well something we see sometimes in the background is a particular set of armor that looks suspiciously similar to the Sovereign’s armor

Now yeah, I know we see it next to Dark Choco’s Portrait, along with what looks like part of his Young Prince costume, so it sort of just seems like a little reference to his Ovenbreak costume, except it also shows up in other stages in the background, implying that it’s more like armor that the Citadel has (that we never see anyone wear for some reason), and not just a reference

Something else I want to show are these enemies from the episode, the Cursed Weapons that come to life (which as @psychicdreamersteaberryjamsword pointed out, are never explained and have this strange red aura, which is odd since the priests, the people here we know with magic, are associated with purple, implying that it isn’t them and instead could be connected to the Strawberry Jam Sword)

Now again, we know that Dark Choco left the sword behind, but we also don’t really know what happened to it, whether the Cookies of Darkness took it or it was left at the Citadel

So, what if the Strawberry Jam Sword, left at the Citadel, came to life and ended up possessing that armor, and then going around looking for Dark Choco?

[dexaroth]

i cant believe the day but i finally got a full tower pc. bought it already built and at a considerable discount of some 320 dollars off. its fucking huge and theres so many things going on inside... i was initially planning on choosing the parts myself but finding the graphics card was so hard and everyone else convinced me to just buy it built and honestly? good. id probably have fucked this up so badly by myself

i cant use it yet bc i took too long to buy the monitor that was also on sale and now its regular price -_- tho i managed to find a discount used one for now. well see how that goes since ill get it tomorrow. i tested it on out living room tv and it had some kaspersky thingy open and like thats so cute. i hope they left some treats in the browsing history for me to search through before i wipe it clean

[faaun]

ok so heres what happened

[dreamescapeswriting]

So Whipped ~ BC

⤜WORD COUNT: 1.2K (Sorry its so short!<3)

⤜PAIRING: Chan x Fem!Reader x the boys? (platonic)

⤜GENRE: fluffy, falling asleep around the boys, the boys wanting to tease you but chan is being a cute protective boyfriend and steps in before they have the chance

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - July 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

The living room of the dorms was bathed in a soft, warm glow from the string lights draped around the windows, casting a cosy ambience over the scattered blankets and empty popcorn bowls. The credits of the final movie rolled silently on the TV screen. Still, the faint hum of the fridge and the occasional car passing by outside were the only sounds filling the quiet room. The boys stretched a little but Felix stayed perfectly still not wanting to move you yet. You were laid nestled on the oversized sectional, your head resting on Felix’s shoulder, your breathing slow and steady. 

"How did she even sleep through your screaming?" Jisung teased as he glanced over at the two of you. You'd fallen asleep somewhere in the middle of the sixth movie the 8 of you decided to watch, exhaustion finally taking over. Felix glanced down at you, a small smile tugging at his lips. Carefully, he adjusted the blanket to cover you a little better, making sure that you were as comfortable as possible before he slid out from under your grasp. 

Across the room, Chan stretched his arms above his head, letting out a yawn as he looked over at you. His perfect little girlfriend was already sound asleep, which meant getting you back to your shared apartment was going to be harder than ever since he wouldn't have the heart to move you.

  “Guess we wore her out,” he chuckled softly, trying not to disturb the serene moment. His eyes softened as he watched you snuggling into the blanket, letting out a soft whine as you realised the one you'd been cuddled up to was gone but it didn't wake you. 

Not that Chan blamed you, the two of you had been up until 4 that morning and then the guys had a full day planned of everything they wanted to do with their time off. Chan counted himself lucky he'd talked them out of dragging all eight of you down to the beach, if you had he couldn't guarantee you would have made it out of the car.

“Not surprising, considering we had a full day before this,” Hyunjin added, his voice a gentle murmur. He stood up from the floor, where he had been lounging and started to gather the empty snack bowls, Minho joining him in the task.

  “Should we wake her up?” Seungmin asked, looking over from where he was tidying up the mess of DVDs and Blu-rays they had pulled out earlier. Chan shook his head at him, there was no need to wake you up when you were sleeping so peacefully,

“Let her sleep,” Chan said quietly, his eyes never leaving your peaceful face, his hand outstretched a little as he ran his thumb along your cheek. 

“She looks so peaceful. Besides, it’s late. We can make her a bed here, she can take my room.” Seungmin nodded in agreement, already stacking pillows and pulling an extra blanket from the closet taking them through to Chan's old room. It wasn't as though the two of you had never shared that bedroom before but it had been a while since the two of you had squeezed into a single bed together. 

Hyunjin and Minho exchanged mischievous glances from the kitchen, the kind that only meant one thing: trouble. Hyunjin crept over to Minho, whispering, 

"What if we put whipped cream on her hand and tickle her nose? Classic prank." He said as he handed Minho the can of whipped cream, a devilish smirk taking over his face as he took the whipped cream into his grasp. 

"Or maybe draw on her face with a marker. Just a little moustache." Minho snickered, as he reached for a pen from the pot on the kitchen counter. 

“Good idea.” Hyunjin laughed from the kitchen making Chan turn around to see what they were talking about together. Minho was standing holding something behind his back with an all too innocent look on his face already letting Chan know he was onto something without even saying a word. 

After years of being the leader of their little group, you'd think the boys would know better than to try and hide something from the one man who knew them better than anyone else.

"What are you two planning?" He walked toward the kitchen door and they shook their heads, only making them seem more suspicious in his eyes. Before they could hide the items Chan darted behind them and took them from their hands, 

"No pranks tonight, guys." He chuckles, putting it all away and the two of them groan at him. 

"Aww, come on, Chan. Just a harmless little joke." Hyunjin pouted at him but Chan shook his head at them, his eyes serious. There was no way he was going to let them disturb you when you were asleep, besides, he didn't want you to wake up and regret spending the night because of some childish antics that they were going to be getting up to. 

"She’s exhausted. Let her sleep." He glanced over his shoulder to make sure you were still curled up in the chair. The others all cleaning up around you. Minho sighed dramatically, a smirk playing on his lips as he took the perfect chance to tease his leader. 

"Protective much? What’s the matter, Chris? Afraid she’ll be mad at you if she wakes up with a moustache?" He wriggles his eyebrows at Chan who merely crosses his arms, an amused yet warning glint in his eyes. As much as he loved playing pranks with the guys this was different, he didn't want anything to happen to you that might put you off coming back to spend time with the guys again,

"Very funny, Minho. But no. Just let her rest." Jisung, overhearing the exchange, couldn't resist chiming in. 

"Someone's whipped." He smirked, joining the others in the kitchen as Chan shot him the same look he'd been giving to Hyunjin and Minho but it only egged the boys on more.

"Yeah, Chan. You're going soft on us." Seungmin said with a giant grin on his face, reaching for the whipped cream Chan rolled his eyes, but it wasn't enough to hide the slight blush creeping up his cheeks at the thought of being whipped for you. 

“I’m not whipped. I just know she needs sleep. Unlike us.” He whines at them, the blush only deepening as the boys continue to snicker and stare over at him,

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say, hyung.” Jeongin smirked, unable to stop the laugh that came out after he spoke.

Felix, who had been watching the whole exchange with quiet amusement, chuckled softly and shook his head at them. Felix knew how deeply in love with you Chan was and how he would never do anything to stop that.

“Leave him alone, guys. He’s just being a good boyfriend.” Chan cast Felix a grateful look, but his friends weren’t done teasing him yet. Hyunjin, with a playful grin, leaned over and whispered loudly, 

“Does that mean we should start calling you ‘whipped cream Chan’?” Only Chan shoved him softly and laughed, walking away as he went back over to check on your sleeping form. His fingers gently run along your skin and smiling to himself. Even with them trying to do stupid pranks on you there was no other place he would rather be than right here with all of you around him. All his favourite people are in one safe spot.

@chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @stayconnecteed @saymyspringrain @toplinehyunjin @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @just-aelia @choisoorin @straykids5star @midnightfrog625 @beccaskz @scarletemeterio @halesandy @junhannies @gothic4under4lord @lixie-phoria @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @lensfilm @elizaschuyler18 @piratequeen-impact @kpopsstuffs @chaeyoungs @delulu18 @xyahrinx @katsukis1wife @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @blairscott @4-chan-inpadella @niktwazny303 @moonlight-the-writer @armystay89 @hadassahchan @yxngbxkkie

[criminalamnesia]

GOD I LOVE traitor and how strong you've made the reader. It's amazing! And I eagerly await any future parts, whether it's big proper story or drabbles. BUT, you come first and your life does so you do what you gotta and go be amazing! We can wait. Proud of you X

im so late to responding, but thank you! <3

here’s part six :) also not really proofread so I apologize for any errors! I’ll fix them later!

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

you don’t know how long you’ve been sitting on the floor, cross-legged amongst broken glass, brittle flowers, and discarded clothes, when someone knocks on the door.

you don’t move, don’t say anything. the noise seems distant— too far off to be real.

besides, if someone is really knocking on your door, they know you’re in here.

and if they know you’re in here, it could be one of five people. your former squad mates, or the doctor.

the knock sounds again. it shakes you from your stupor, yet you still make no move to answer it. let them come in; let them see what they’ve made of you. of who you were. of who you could’ve been.

the person on the other side of the door is speaking now. you register the muffled baritone as it fights to be heard from the hall.

you clench your fists, then unclench them— stretching out your fingers as far as they go. clench them again. unclench. stretch. repeat.

it’s a tick— a calming habit. you don’t think it’s working at the present moment.

the doorknob turns. you still don’t move.

the door is being pushed in, light from the hallway aggressively slicing through the darkness you’d left yourself in. you fought the urge to curl in on yourself.

you’d been so consumed by your anger— are consumed by it— but coming into this room and seeing that damn note was earth-shaking. it was terrifying, and it was a tangible reminder of the team’s unapologetic tactics. simon’s unapologetic tactics.

the voice is speaking once more, clearer now that the door is out of the way— but you can’t make out the words over the ringing in your ears.

a hand gingerly lands on your shoulder, and that’s when you snap.

you whirl around, throwing yourself into the intruder like a cobra striking its prey. clearly caught off guard, the person lets loose a ‘oomph’ and falls backwards as you take out their legs.

everything is fuzzy. the ringing in your ears crescendos, and it brings pain with it. you’re striking your target with reckless abandon, still not registering who is flailing underneath you.

punches land and land and land. nails scrape and scratch and draw blood. all you see is red— all you hear is the sharpening of a knife or the whirring of a saw.

and then there are hands on you, yanking you away from your victim. the red slowly starts to recede, the ringing in your ears subsiding.

it’s only then do you release you’re screaming.

its only then do you see the swollen and bloodied face of your doctor, lying a foot away from you. she sputters a cough, blood leaving her lips and splattering onto the man leaning over her.

“you need to calm down,” a voice speaks into your ear.

“calm down, or they’ll sedate you,” it says, and you finally stop screaming. you take a breath.

clench your fists. unclench. stretch. repeat.

it takes you another minute to calm down enough to realize the person holding you is simon.

the doctor is being carried away now, and you notice it’s johnny and kyle carrying her. you notice john is standing to your left, eyes full of sympathy and guilt as he looks at you.

“get,” you huff, reaching down to slap at the arms circling your middle. “off me.”

simon releases you instantly. you don’t hesitate to put distance between the two of you. a few feet, at least. he just stands there, eyes watching with an expression you can’t place.

“what happened, love?” john’s voice is a soft rumble as he speaks. he moves a hand toward you, but decides against touching you— even if he only wanted to comfort you.

“I—” you start, glancing down at your hands. they’re bloody again.

“I thought it was—” you try again, but stop yourself.

you thought it was what? thought it was who?

you had heard man’s voice speaking to you. your mind had twisted things— had given you something you wanted to hear, deep down— because it gave you the chance to strike.

it gave you the opportunity to tear apart whichever man from the 141 had been there to check on you.

and you know you had wished it was simon.

john takes a cautious step forward at your silence. “let’s get you somewhere private, yeah? somewhere to cool down.”

the fire licking at your veins has subsided in favor of the chill of shame. of terror at what you’ve done— what you’ve done to the one person you had on your side. the person who was truly on your side.

you don’t fight this time. you give a nod, then solemnly follow him down the corridor. simon falls in behind you.

john takes you to his office, opening the door and ushering you inside. you move without protest, stepping into the dark room.

the two men enter behind you, john flicking on the light while simon pulls the door shut. you would’ve laughed at the scenario if you were in your right mind.

but you weren’t.

you weren’t okay. you knew that you weren’t, at least physically, but what you just did…

there was no way you were going to be transferred now. you doubted you would’ve even before you attacked the doctor.

you’re going to be discharged. you understand why.

but it hurts. this is your job, your life. years and years on the battlefield don’t prepare you for life off of it.

“love?”

john’s voice brings you back to the present. you realize you’ve been standing in the center of the room, unmoving and unblinking.

you feel simon’s hard gaze on your back. you want to cry.

how did things ever get this fucked up?

“im fine.” you say, not bothering to turn around. you didn’t trust yourself to keep it together if you faced them.

“you’re not,” john states, and you roll your eyes.

“im not talking about this with you,” you bite out, circling your arms around yourself. “either of you.”

“you should at least talk to someone, love— this isn’t healthy.”

“please, stop.” you tell him, but john was never good at taking orders. he gave them, not followed them.

“you hated the therapist, and you haven’t spoken to anyone else since… everything.” he continues.

“stop, john,” you try again.

“you need to let it out, love. we’re here—”

you spin around then, fists dropping to your sides. “for the love of god, john, shut the fuck up.”

that stuns him into silence, eyes slightly widened and mouth agape as he looks at you. simon doesn’t move from his position near the door.

“you are the last people i would ever fucking talk to! I don’t even want to be talking to you right now, but you won’t stop trying. trying to talk to me, trying to make it up, trying to wriggle your way back into my good graces.”

you pause, sucking in a breath. “johnny must’ve relayed the message, and that’s why you’ve back off a little— but one wrong fucking move and you’re swooping again! you aren’t my dad, you aren’t my lover, you aren’t my friend, and you’re sure as hell not my fucking captain anymore.”

“so please, john, leave me be. the four of you have done enough.”

the room is silent for a beat, then two. then three. and then simon takes a step forward, removes his balaclava, and looks you square in the face.

he doesn’t open his mouth to speak, so you take the chance to.

“don’t start with me, simon. just don’t.”

“the note,” he says. “you read it.”

you just look at him, a disbelieving scoff leaving your mouth as you give a nod. “yes, I read your fucking note. and I saw the stupid flowers, too, after seeing everything else you wrecked. tell me, how long did you wait after you tied me up to tear it all apart?”

he just watches you. you want to scream.

the note flashes back into your mind.

‘hope you can understand.’

“does it make you feel better, thinking what you did was right?” you ask him.

“I wouldn’t have done it differently.” simon tells you.

you clench your fists. unclench. stretch.

breathe in, breathe out.

“and if the roles were reversed,” you said, watching him. “if you were in my position, would you have expected me to do what you did?”

“yes.” he says, without hesitation.

“you’re unbelievable,” you huff. “is that how little I meant to you? all that time, wasted?”

“that’s not what I said.” he tells you, and you shake your head.

“no, but it’s what you meant.” anger is bubbling up again. you feel overwhelmed; shame and fury battling inside you. the ringing building up in your ears again, emerging from the background.

you can’t do this.

“what i meant is what i said.” he takes another step forward. “you’re just too damn stubborn to listen, always have been.”

“just go, simon.” you tell him. “both of you. go.”

“I wouldn’t change what I did,” he says again. “to protect my team, my family, I would do whatever it takes.”

you bite your tongue. you don’t want to keep arguing with him. he was an unmovable object— there was no way to reason with him.

“im not sorry it happened.” he speaks. “i did what i thought i had to do. what i had to do to make sure my team was safe.”

“and you should understand that, considering this team is all you have, too.”

you don’t respond— and even if you were going to, a knock on the door breaks the tense silence in the room.

johnny pops his head in, his eyes full of concern. “doc’s alrigh’.” he says, his gaze catching yours. “jus’ some bumps and bruises. she’ll be jus’ fine.”

“and she uh— said she’s not pressin’ charges or anythin’. says she still expects to see ya in a few days for your check-up.”

that’s what breaks you.

a tear slips from your eye, falling onto your cheek. another follows, then another, and you’re sobbing as you fall to the floor of price’s office.

the three men are staring, but no one makes any move to comfort you.

probably wise, considering what you did to the last person who tried.

you faintly register the click of the door as it shuts again. you don’t look up— your head in your hands as you cry.

cry about what you’ve done, what you’ve lost. mourn your career and your family and your love for the man who doesn’t regret what he did.

unbeknownst to you, simon is the only one still left in the room. his steps are silent as he approaches you— leaving only a foot of space between your bodies now.

he watches you as he sinks to the ground across from you, his long legs folded over each other, the fingers of his left hand twitching as he finds himself wanting to reach for you.

he still cares for you. his feelings for you were what made him do what he did in the first place.

the love he felt for you, twisting into betrayal and hurt and agony. fueling his actions, his desire to hear you admit your wrongdoings.

passion made people dangerous. passion in love, passion in rage. it was a fine line, and simon had crossed it.

he understood what this meant for you. recalls the conversation he had with price earlier— how laswell was planning for your discharge instead of your transfer.

this was the end of your time with them, and in the military. the hands of the 141, damaging one of their own beyond repair.

he finds himself mourning alongside you, then. mourning what was and what could’ve been.

what should have been.

“im sorry for what we did to you,” he says, but it comes out as a whisper that you don’t hear.

“im sorry.”

thank you all again for your patience! I plan on tying this little series up soon :)

as a reminder, I no longer do taglists. if you want to be notified when I post, follow @troiastitans and turn on notifications. I only reblog my works there.

I hope you all enjoyed :)

[montimer]

Deadpool x reader

Gn!reader,him gaining a crush on ya

He tries not to believe it. Is there even a scenario where you would love him back?

He tries his best to push these feelings away. But he just can't help it, i mean why you gotta be so beautiful and kind to him and your voice, gosh- but the more he tries getting his mind off you the more it hurts. Especially if he goes to drink at a bar and gets so drunk he ends up with someone next to him in the morning.

So instead he lets his obsession grew.

Oh you're shopping? He just happens to be there too! Don't question it, he'll start yapping and drags you with himself.

He invites you over more than usual. You wanna watch a movie? Play games? If he wins he gets a kiss- whoa what,who said that?

He'll wanna have sleepovers. Throw pillow fights and no he won't sleep on the floor, make some space for him. Incase you don't tell him to sleep on the couch he'll totally not creepily stare at you as you sleep. Sure he'll fall asleep,,eventually.

He gives you tiny hints that he loves you. But of course you won't really catch them, after all he acts freaky with everyone.

And by flirting i mean, putting a hand around your shoulder. Telling you that you are gorgeous and calling you nicknames. Showing you a heart with his hands and so much more.

If you let him he would love to hug you every now and then. Tho his hugs get longer and longer the more you let him closer to you.

Speaking of which, he'll let you see his face and know more about his past only after a longer time.

But even then, when he took off his mask and expected a disgusted look or a mean comment, you just smiled at him and reassured that he is beautiful inside and out. Can you be any more charming? He just fall head over heals all over again.

You laugh at his jokes and think hes cool? He is wordless.

He will try to kiss you through his mask and will do it if you don't push him away. "Smooch me!"

Sometimes he stares at you with out noticing.

His room is full of stuff that you gifted to him and photos of you (where he got it? Oh don't worry about it..)

And if you happen to be a hero/etc, he will have a plush and other merch of you around.

He'll even give you a mini version of himself. To keep you safe he says.

He loves to be around you and is overly affectionate.

He squishez his eyes into a smile upon seeing you. He'll wave at you and everything.

He'll draw you silly pictures (mostly the two of you holding hands and being lovey-dovey)

He also leaves you flowers.

If you say nice things to him it'll blow his mind. By nice i mean stuff like "You are cute!" Or "You're the best!". Yeah you really think so? His heart feels like its beating stronger.

He speaks before thinking rather often. He lets his stranger thoughts out. Such thoughts like "You're so hot". He stares wide eyed at you after. Then comes the awkward laugh, just laugh with him please.

Anyways get used to it cuz he'll make your life a living hell, or maybe heaven?

He would ask you to move into an apartment with him, and he won't stop asking that question. Wouldn't it be less lonely and more fun to have a roommate?

He just can't come up with a way to confess..maybe the job will do it itself? No Yes,yes it will Wade don't worry.

[tlouwhore]

jackson!ellie would be peak losercore

warnings: a lil nsfw towards the end, mostly fluff tbh, shes so loser lame freak, slight mention of smoking (weed) and alcohol

★ jackson!ellie who freaks out a little when you first call her "els" she tenses and fiddles with her ear

★ jackson!ellie who would burn you a cd and make custom art for the back and front of the jewel case

★ jackson!ellie who refuses to breathe "too much" when you drift to sleep and your head falls on her shoulder

★ jackson!ellie who denied that you could like her even though you've made is so obvious 

★ jackson!ellie who cant pick up any hints to save her life

★ jackson!ellie who wants to smoke with you but coughs up half her lung and is so embarrassed

★ jackson!ellie who pretends to like whiskey because it "makes her look mature"

★ jackson!ellie who talks at you about astronomy the moment anything enters her system

★ jackson!ellie who becomes insanely awkward when joel makes a comment on your closeness

★ jackson!ellie who lays on her stomach as she kicks her feet back and forth in the air while drawing you

★ jackson!ellie who seems so surprised when you kiss her despite all the hints you've been dropping

★ jackson!ellie who gets upset when you try to kiss her instead of watching the movie she chose

★ jackson!ellie who is weirdly invested in the saw franchise

★ jackson!ellie who loves superbad for some reason

★ jackson!ellie who has two pairs of pants and a dream

★ jackson!ellie who has really clammy hands that are also freezing cold and she insists that you need to hold them

★ jackson!ellie who is so needy but also so stupid when it comes to telling you what she wants, you end up just having to guess what she wants from you

★ jackson!ellie who is def a kendrick fan after finding a cassette of his and will pretend like she is the next best rapper

★ jackson!ellie who always try's to do cool stuff to impress you and just ends up looking dumb as shit (hot)

★ jackson!ellie who definitely gets into a lot of trouble around town, everyone knows her name

★ jackson!ellie who is so late to everything despite the town being 10 feet wide and 10 feet long

★ jackson!ellie who has the worst time management of all time

★ jackson!ellie who will forget your anniversary and beg for your forgiveness like you'd leave her (you dgaf)

★ jackson!ellie who has a bin full of legos she's accumulated and she tries to "speed build" you items like shes fucking emmet from the lego movie

★ jackson!ellie who thinks putting her clammy hand on your thigh is the move

★ jackson!ellie who is so awkward during sex, you take off your shirt and shes shielding her eyes like shes not allowed to see

★ jackson!ellie eats you out like shes starved and its her first meal

★ jackson!ellie who cums a minute into tribbing and and goes "did you finish?"

★ jackson!ellie who is a d1 biter and she will take a little nibble

★ jackson!ellie who loves how you smell but wont admit it because she feels creepy

★ jackson!ellie who has a single candle she lights whenever you come over because she thinks its so romantic

★ jackson!ellie who gets so love drunk when shes tired, such a fucking sap like shes clinging to you and whispering all these things about how much she loves you

★ jackson!ellie who writes music about you and wont show you any of it because she still believes you're lying about being her gf or some shit

★ jackson!ellie who is so clingy

[sinning-23]

SIT, LIKE A CHAIR

Opla face sitting/p*ssy eating headcanons

Warnings: dude the title is warming enough lol. ITS 18+ BRO

Zoro

-Fuck around and hover if you want to. He’s already got his arms around your thighs, forcing you to sit.

-He’s got some kind of sorcery or some shit with his tongue cause what the fuck.

-oh you thought he was stopping after you came once? Hahahaha that’s so funny.

-makes sure you are shaking and fucking shivering when he’s done with you

-Will make sure you know how much he loves the way you taste.

-“That’s it honey, cum on my face.”

Usopp

-unfortunately doesn’t know what the FUCK he’s doing when he eats but is very very fucking skilled with his fingers.

-we all know this man’s nose is 5 mf stars and would be nice to sit on and he knows this fact.

-on the occasion that he asks you to sit on his face he’s putting everything to work, using one hand to simultaneously spread your cheeks and keep your things flush against him.

-the other is already coaxing another orgasm out of you while his tongue circle slow around your clit.

-doesn’t talk when his mouth is full, he’s got manners lol

On the rare occasion he does speak it’s often after all is said and done

-“now you can brag about being eaten out by a legendary captain”

Sanji

-oh he eats religiously. Like is that even a question?

-he gets really fucking sloppy too. He’s got your juices and his saliva down his chin and all over your thighs.

-sometimes it feels like the eating is more for him than you (sometimes it is lol)

-expect lots of worship when he’s positioned under you. He prefers to eat when you’re sitting on the edge of the counter or table and he’s kneeling down in front with your legs over his shoulders.

-“I’ve never tasted anything as divine as you. Tout va bien pour moi”

-Has definitely cum from eating you out alone

Nami

-Oh she’s fucking ruthless. I mean just so mean when she eats.

-She likes to draw loving circles on your thighs and then offset that sweetness with a pinch.

-She’ll make it seem like she’ll be nice and let you cum, only to stop completely, eyes laser focused on that adorable little frustrated knot between your brows.

-Is a bit of a shit talker honestly and between how well she works her fingers inside you, how good her tongue feels on your clit, and each teasing comment she throws your way, you’re left spiraling.

-“Ohhh how cute. You gonna cum on my face just like that? You can hold on a little longer can’t you honey?”

Shanks

-If you look closely you can see that his facial hair is slightly bleached.

-We know the fuck why.

-He makes sure you know just how much he loves your pussy when he eats. I mean yes he’s slow and damn near torturous with how he asked you be patient and wait but it’s so worth it.

-He kisses up your thigh, then over the top of your panties. Then will suck and lick over the fabric until it’s soaked.

-Once that’s done, he takes em off with his teeth and licks one long, slow stripe up before deciding to suck on your clit for just a second. Soon after he’s pulling your closer by your thighs and eating you for all your worth.

-He will not talk, well…only if it’s to get you to sit still, his eyes peering dangerously into yours.

- “Don’t. Move.” (its pretty mf hot)

-holds your hand when you finally cum on his tongue.

Buggy

-He the best eater I know- he gets down. He don’t play

-if eating was a sport he’d be the champion.

-Teats your pussy like a meal(because it is in his eyes) and makes sure nothing is left behind besides your own slick, his saliva, and your trembling thighs.

He really gets into it too. I mean he’s moaning against your folds, slurping and drooling.

-This mf is a multitasker. His hands are definitely detached and holding the back of your knees to keep you from closing your legs. and he is working yet another orgasm out of you.

-He's a talker btw so expect lots of witty and raunchy comments while you're practically convulsing from overstimulation.

-"No one makes you feel like how I do huh princess?"

-"That's it honey scream my name."

-“I could eat you forever.” He whines with his mouth full of you

Mihawk

-He's not likely to eat as much. He doesn't dislike it but would rather give to you in other ways. However, despite this little thing about himself, he makes sure it's for a reason when he eats.

-For example, had a bad day? There's a remedy for that, come sit.

-Feeling a bit insecure and self-conscious? Let him show just how amazing you really are.

-Expect to feel a lot of vibrations with how much he growls and moans into your cunt.

-Not too much of a talker but when he does it makes not only your pussy throb but your heart melt.

-"Look at yourself. So beautiful my love." (there's a mirror on the ceiling)

-He isn't afraid to kiss you when he's done either. Wants you to know just how good you taste and that every time he has the privilege of having you sit on his face its like heaven (his words more or less).

[dead-girl-tells-stories]

Everyone from babies to young adults suddenly disappears from Amity Park, and the ghost portal self-destructs as well. The GIW and the Fentons obviously come to the conclusion that it’s ghosts but realize that this issue is way bigger than they can handle, so they call in the big guns, The Justice League.

Of course, they don’t tell the Justice League everything when they come. No matter how much they thought themselves to be heroes, they were simply glorified police in spandex. And with how they operate, they are all too small-minded and won’t be able to see the bigger picture. They also knew fully well that a lot of their methods weren’t even remotely close to being morally or ethically right, and if the JL found out, they would be screwed. So they simply told them enough to get them on their side. 

Besides, how could they not help with how many people were missing? This was going to be easy.

_______

The Justice League didn’t trust the GIW. Something about them was just off. But so many missing people were on the line, so many kids! 

Ghost?

Should they call in the JLD?

_______

Jason knew something was off with Crime Ally.

Nothing was wrong per se. In fact, everything was going great. Crime was at its lowest in like… forever. The general atmosphere was more calm, if not a bit chilly. He himself was calmer. And there were fewer kids on the streets. Which would have been a good thing if this wasn’t fuckin’ CRIME ALLY!

Jason’s been stressing himself out, trying to find out what was going on. He’s been searching up and down, talking to people left and right. No one was reporting anything amiss. Some even told him that they still saw the kids walking around, though not as often as before. And they also looked like they were being well taken care of.

He even saw and talked to some of the kids himself and it was the truth. 

But when he asked where they went, they only laughed and ran away from him. Shouting that he would know soon before they disappeared around the corner. At this point, he was sufficiently freaked out and was so close to getting Batman to contact the JLD, but something told him otherwise.

A few days later Jason was in bed. He had ended patrol early that night and intended to get a full eight hours if he could.

But as fate would have it, he would not. Because just before he could hit the hay he heard it. Well, felt it would be more accurate but how could you feel a siren’s song? Pulling you? Drawing you in. Telling you that it would give you your deepest desire.

He didn’t even bother to suit back up into Red Hood. He just followed it. Followed and followed, Until he got to a dead-end alleyway. But there was no ‘end’. All there was, was darkness. 

He began to get skeptical and took a few steps back. But the feeling was still there. Pulling, telling that all of his answers were in that darkness. Everything he wanted, needed, awaited beyond it. 

He did the stupid thing and went into the darkness.

He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t the feeling of walking through thick goop. But the feeling didn’t last long, and he eventually stepped out.

Again, he didn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t this. 

Kids running around without a care in the world, unrestricted. Teenagers just hanging out and being kids too. Whatever adults he saw all looked pretty young, but they were all happy. 

He looked around and noticed that it looked like a weird mix between a suburb and a night market, but it worked quite well. The stalls were all unmanned, and it seemed whoever could just take whatever they wanted. Dim but pretty lights connected all the stalls to as far as his eyes could see. And the sky.

In Gotham, there’s so much smog and bad weather you’d be lucky to even see a piece of blue during the day so no wonder people often forget about the night. But this, the night sky wherever he was, was beautiful, beyond what words and even thoughts could convey.

“Hello, Mr. Red Hood.”

Jason jumped. Was he so out of it that he didn’t even notice someone coming up behind-

Forget what he just said about the sky. The woman right here that was now standing before him? She- She-

“Are you single?”

There was silence. Then she giggled. Guess Jason didn’t need his helmet huh? His face was enough.

He also wanted to die again but hey, at least she laughed!

[rieamena]

wipe my mind, i'd still be stuck on you

kenji sato & baseball critic!reader

contains: fem!reader, established relationship (5 and a half-ish years), going public, petnames, reader and ami are close friends & spend time with her and chiho (ami's daughter), singing, kenji being whipped for you and vice versa, championship baseball game, children mention!!!, emi mention!!! (she's at kaiju island!!), proposal, engagement, fluff, suggestive, angst if you squint hard, lowercase intended!!! !!!: the song in the second part is stuck on you by grentperez wc: 3.4k

people always wondered how you managed to get the most in-depth and provocative interviews with ken sato. without fail, each and every one of your published articles presented the baseball star in a new light. "mr. sato, i'm sure your fans are wondering just how you were able to overcome your slump. some are even saying that you had special help from someone significant to you. so tell us, is there someone significant to you right now?" your eyes captured ken's as you spoke into your recording device. both of you sat cross legged on your shared bed, free hands intertwined, sharing a dopey smile. you moved the device closer to him, squeezing his hand when he just stared at you lovingly instead of answering the question. "i'd say that significant isn't the right word to describe her. actually, there aren't any words to describe just how much she means to me. she's my everything. my sun, moon, sky, and stars." ken pressed a kiss to the back of your hand, his words soothing your heart. "and i'm sure she feels the exact same way about you." drawing circles into his hand, you looked at the gold ring attached to a matching chain around kenji's neck. "eyeing my necklace, are you?" you scoffed and rolled your eyes, "well, what does it symbolize?" kenji fiddled with the ring, twirling it between his fingers. "it's a promise ring. if i'm being fully honest, i cried when she gave it to me. i never thought i could be so close and intimate with someone. i didn't fit in back in LA and i'm still struggling to fit in here, but none of that mattered to her. for once, someone saw me for me. no matter what happens, i'll always stand by her side and i'll always love her." before you knew it, ken's lips were hovering over yours, his hand delicate on your face, as you subconsciously leaned into his touch. "i'll always love you too." it was a kiss full of passion and love. it managed to convey kenji's innermost thoughts and feelings to which you shared yours as well. pulling away from your boyfriend's lips and settling into the crook of his neck, small, blinking digital numbers stole your attention. a quiet giggle escaped your lips as you stopped the recording, "guess i'll be keeping this for myself." ken pressed a kiss to your forehead, whispering softly, "or you could show the world how much ken sato loves his pretty girl."

you sighed, "we've talked about this, love. i don't want to go public because—""you're scared about the public's opinion." kenji cut you off, recalling the numerous times he's had this conversation with you. "ken, its not just that! i could lose my credibility as a baseball journalist!" you professed, separating from the warmth of his body, "people would think that i got interviews from pure favoritism. and some would think that i… offered you favors. …going public might ruin my career and i don't know how i'd be able to…," your words died down as your head returned to kenji's chest, your lips taking in a shaky breath, "i love journalism and i love baseball and doing something that bridges the gap between those two is one of the best things in my life right now." laying your hand flat against his chest, rubbing softly, you continued, "please ken, believe me when i say that i really do want to take your last name, i want to walk down the aisle to you, i want to do it all and i want to do it with just you, but right now," you looked up at kenji, whose eyes expressed deep apologies, "we're both doing so well. i don't want a single thing to knock us off our highs." a couple moments of silence passed before ken responded. "i understand… sorry for upsetting you." you shook your head, "don't apologize. you wanted to know the whole truth. nothing wrong about that…" rubbing the side of your arm, kenji repositioned both of your bodies to be laying down. "let's take a little rest," he whispered, bringing your body closer to his. you hummed in response, snuggling even closer to your lover, wanting to feel his warmth mix with yours. "mmm, i'd like that…" your voice drifted away, body entering a state of slumber in kenji's arms.

"honey?" ken's voice called, "i brought the stuff you wanted!" "i'm in the kitchen!", calling back, hands occupied with coating and frying some pork loin. your nimble hands dropped the meat into the pan of hot oil, watching it sizzle and crisp. "hi baby." ken dropped the bags of groceries on the kitchen island, wanting to wrap his hands around your waist instead. "tonkatsu?" kenji perched his chin atop your head, peering down at the frying pork. "yeah, we haven't had it in a while, and i know how much you love it." ken smiled, one that you could feel. "you know me so well." you smiled back, flipping the pork cutlets to ensure they cooked evenly. "how was your day?" "a bit busy, but it's better now," ken said, his hands moving to gently massage your shoulders. "can i help with anything?" "actually, could you start on the salad? the veggies are all washed and ready to go." kenji moved to the counter, grabbing a knife and chopping board. the two of you worked in comfortable silence, the sound of sizzling oil and the rhythmic chopping of vegetables filling the kitchen. "feels like we're missing something…", you put in the last pork chop, "mina, play some music please." a soft drum beat escaped from the mini speaker kept in the kitchen for times like this. almost instantaneously, kenji looked at you, tossing a wooden spoon from the utensil vase, picking up one for himself as well. "you could wipe my mind, i'd still be—", he sang into the spoon before pointing at you. like clockwork, you finished, "stuck on you." "i climbed the highs, nothin' i—", you pointed back at him, the man in question already belting the rest of the lyric, "wouldn't do~" your bodies got closer, "i'll be holdin' up to every word, every promise that you ever heard." kenji takes your hand in his and spins you around, hugging you close. "i'm makin' up for all the days that passed us by." it was a part of the song but he whispered it instead, giving your lips a quick peck after. bringing your hands up to his face, your thumbs continuously caressed ken's cheeks, a soft smile on your features. a small whine escaped ken when you suddenly stopped your ministrations, your eyes blowing wide. his followed suit, realizing what the problem was. both of you looked at the pan full of hot oil, a deep brown pork chop forgotten at the expense of the impromptu concert. "oh shit, it's burning!"

you walked through the front doors, slipping off your shoes and setting down your bags. entering the elevator, you shot a quick text to ami, letting her know that you got home safely. walking through the curve, you approached kenji, his body sprawled out on the ridiculously large couch staring at his phone intently. sitting up as soon as he felt your presence, ken quickly threw his phone out of reach for the both of you, waving you over. "eventful day?" you nodded, glancing at his phone before looking back at him. "have something to tell me?", you questioned, causing your boyfriend to smile, patting his lap. shuffling over, you laid your head on kenji's thighs, reveling in the plush firmness of them, "nothing my pretty little journalist needs to worry her head about." his hands poked and pinched your cheeks teasingly before being swatted away by yours. "what did you do today with ami and chiho?" ken's voice was light, unsure if concealing his plans caused you to be annoyed. "we went to the mall to get chiho some new clothes—," you took one of his hands in yours, playing with his fingers as you recalled your day, "—i got you something too. it's on our dresser." kenji's hand playing with your hair, occasionally massaging your head relaxed you as you continued speaking, "then we went to a cafe and had some desserts. i had a strawberry cream cake—that's in the fridge—ami had tiramisu and chiho had the cutest mini ice cream. wait." you pulled out your phone, muttering that you had to remember to send these pictures to ami. finding a photo you took of the table adorned with desserts, you handed your phone to your boyfriend, telling him to swipe to see the rest whenever. "after that, ami had to pick something up from a nearby shop so chiho and i just chilled until she came back." ken swiped to numerous pictures you took with chiho, smiling softly, imagining that you were taking photos with your child instead of ami's. peeking over at your phone, you squealed, "isn't she sooo cute? ken, you don't understand!!! she's like emi! …but smaller. and she's so full of energy!" "baby fever?" "...maybe." putting your phone down, ken relaxed his arms on the top brim of the couch, body on full display. "i could give you a chiho of our own." he looked down at you, a smirk on his face, causing you to choke on air, "you—! you!" "[name] sato does have a nice ring to it, don't you think?" "kenji!" "i meant it, you know."

"[name]? i've been calling you for—" kenji opened the door to your study, stopping in his tracks. you were passed out on your laptop, blue light glasses falling off and your favorite pen — the one he gave to you as a 'just because' gift — threatening to slip from your fingers. letting out a quiet sigh, ken walked over to you, taking shallow breaths as he slowly packed up your things and set them at the side of your desk. when you stirred in your seat, he froze, not wanting to wake you up from your nap. gently pulling the laptop from your grasp, kenji looked at the screen. an article titled 'inside the mind of ken sato: an exclusive interview' was scheduled to post at eight the next morning. shutting it closed, ken moved over to your limp body. bending his knees, he laid your back against one of his forearms, his other hooked under your knees. walking over to the loveseat you kept, ken's eyes never left your sleeping figure. he laid you down softly, pressing a kiss to your cheek before draping a nearby blanket over you. getting his laptop and putting on those blue light glasses of yours, kenji settled himself on the floor, occasionally looking back at you as he scrolled through pinterest, saving various images to his 'us' and 'wedding plans' boards. when he felt a hand on his head, rubbing softly, ken switched to a new tab. turning around, he whispered, "you're awake." he didn't expect your eyes to still be closed, realizing that you've been playing with his hair habitually rather than purposefully. "thank you ken…" your voice had the post-nap drowsiness but managed to convey your gratitude. "don't sweat it, princess."

opening your eyes slowly, kenji's face was the first thing you saw, causing you to sigh in delight. "god, you're stunning." ken's lips curved into a small grin, his head tilting. "thank you...?" "no no, i meant it like—" you sobered up after being drunk off sleep, collecting your thoughts, "when you get to re-experience something life changing as if it was the first time. thats what it felt like, like i was seeing you for the first time all over again." ken turned away from you, covering his face with his hands, feeling it heat up. "hey, don't do that! i was still admiring you," a groan escaped kenji's lips as you pried his hands away, "damn, can't a girl call her boyfriend pretty nowadays?" you slid off the loveseat, placing yourself right next to ken. "i like to think i look better from the front angle." he smirked, moving the laptop from his lap to the sofa. "you look good at all angles," you repositioned yourself, your core pressing into kenji's as you straddled his hips. by routine, his hands gripped your waist, squeezing and massaging slightly.  "but i'd be lying if i said front angle kenji wasn't one of my favorites." kenji kept a hand stationed at your waist, the other moving down to grope your ass. low and heavy moans broke from him as you rocked your hips back and forth, giving you both the friction you've been waiting for. "you gotta get on top of me more often, baby. 'can't believe i was missing out on this." his eyes scanned over your figure, drinking it in. slowing your motions, your hands found home on kenji's shoulders. "keep acting like that and i'm gonna have to start going dress shopping." ken laughed at your comment, the implication not fully registering yet. "wait, what?"

the roar of the crowd filled the air as the yomiuri giants claimed the championship title. the atmosphere was electric, a whirlwind of cheers and applause. kenji, bathed in the triumphant glow of victory, made his way through the sea of elated teammates and ecstatic fans. his eyes locked onto yours, and in an instant, he was in front of your premium best view stadium seat. without a word, he pulled you close and kissed you deeply, the world around you fading into oblivion. the force of your embrace caused you to topple over the railing, crashing into Kenji with a fervent hug. "ken! ken! oh my god, you did it! you did it! you were so cool!! you hit the ball like wapow—" you rambled, your excitement bubbling over as you mimicked his winning hit. "huh? where did he—?" your eyes darted left and right in the search for him, only to find him behind you, down on one knee. the prettiest ring you had ever seen rested in a small black velvet box, glinting under the stadium lights. kenji looked up at you, his usual confidence giving way to a nervous chuckle. "you found me…" he muttered, his voice tinged with vulnerability only you got to experience. kenji took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "i don't know how i lived before i met you," he confessed, the words heavy with emotion. the stadium seemed to hold its breath, the noise of the celebration fading into the background as the moment unfolded. your heart pounded in your chest as kenji's words hung in the air. the world seemed to stand still, every sound and sight melting away except for him, kneeling before you. "[name]," he continued, his voice trembling slightly, "from the moment i met you, my life changed in ways i never thought possible. you've been my rock, my partner, and my biggest supporter. every day with you has been a gift, and i can't imagine facing any challenge, celebrating any victory, or living any day without you by my side." he paused, taking a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "you have this… incredible… ability to make everything brighter," he looks away, choking on his words, tears welling and slipping from the corners of his eyes. "to turn ordinary moments into extraordinary memories. your laughter is my favorite sound, and your smile, my favorite sight. you've shown me what true love is, and for that, i am forever grateful." kenji's voice grew softer, more intimate, as he continued. "in the highs and lows, you've been there. you believed in me, even when i didn't believe in myself. you've given me courage, strength, and a love that I know will last far beyond a lifetime."

tears were already streaming down your face, each word leaving ken's lips caused your waterline to fill up and spill over. your body shook, as you took in the view of your boyfriend, wiping away his tears with your hand. "i want to spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you've made me. i want to be the reason you smile every day. what i'm trying to say is…, [name], can i have the honor of being your husband?" even if you had spoken any quieter, kenji still would've heard you, at that moment, the only thing he focused on was you. "yes, kenji. let's get married." he pushed back a sob, rising to his feet and taking your left hand in his, slipping the ring on your finger. "wait…", you spoke, voice hoarse from all the crying. hands trailing down ken's neck, you felt the dainty chain he always kept on him, pulling it out from underneath his uniform. the promise ring laid on his chest as you unlooped it from the chain and pushed it onto his ring finger, as he did with your ring. flashing your signature smile, albeit more tired, you exclaimed, "there…! now we match!" the sob kenji previously choked back resurfaced as he picked you up and spun you around, your laughter mixing with his. as he set you down gently, your foreheads rested against each other, the world around you forgotten. in that perfect, intimate moment, everything felt just right. "what a way to tell everyone, ken. you never cease to amaze me…" "i'll have you on your toes. no way the marriage is getting boring with me around." "please, it wouldn't be boring either way."

extras —

you dragged yourself into the living room, dropping your bag and collapsing onto the couch with a heavy sigh. "i'm so tired… that article took everything out of me. and he was being so unnecessarily difficult!" ken looked up from his book, concern etched on his face. "you should—oh, i don't know—quit your job." "ken," you replied, giving him a pointed look. "hey, i'm just saying. i have more than enough to support us both and then some. no need for you to overwork yourself like this." he set the book aside and moved closer, taking your hand in his. "how about this? once the season is over, we take a couple weeks off for vacation. we'll travel anywhere you wanna go!" you smiled, the idea of a vacation sounding like a dream. "and if japan needs saving?" ken fell silent, embarrassed that being ultraman completely slipped his mind. "oh right. can't forget about that." you both laughed, the tension from your long day starting to ease. ken's thumb rubbed soothing circles on the back of your hand. "but seriously," he continued, his tone softening. "i hate seeing you so stressed. you're amazing at what you do, but you deserve a break too. we'll figure it out together, okay?" you nodded, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. "okay. a vacation sounds perfect. and maybe i will think about taking it easy for a while." ken leaned in and kissed your forehead. "that's my girl. now, let's plan this vacation of ours. we’ve got the whole world to explore."

"babe, can you look through my phone for something? i took a picture of something i wore the other day," you asked, tossing your phone to kenji. "alright." catching it with ease, he started scrolling through your photo app. "this the one?" he asked, showing you the picture. you nodded, finding the same clothing pieces in your closet. kenji continued to scroll through your photo app, and suddenly he stumbled upon an album named 'mine <3'. "oh, you love love me," he teased, turning the phone towards you and revealing the numerous pictures you had of him. you rolled your eyes, trying to play off the blush creeping up your cheeks. "don't flatter yourself," you scoffed, a playful smile tugging at your lips. kenji chuckled, encapsulating you in a side hug. "too late. i'm already flattered." he looked at you with those warm eyes that always made your heart skip a beat. you shook your head, laughing softly. "you're impossible." "and you love it." he said, his voice low and affectionate. you couldn't deny it, the brightest smile etched on your face as you pushed kenji away. "yeah, whatever."

whew... its been a wild four days but i'm actually so proud of myself. personally, i love how this came out and i really can't believe that i typed all of this like me??? what?!?! i hope you all enjoyed it as much as i did <33 i'll be doing requests + asks for this so if you wanna see something or know something, send me an ask! love yall <33 ps: formatting this post was literal hell. solely bc tumblr decided to stop allowing me to save in rich text.

taglist <3

@lovingyeet @yellowheartz @darlinggreenwitch @meikoo @moonjellyfishie

[blueywrites]

you go in then I'll blow

eddie munson x ditsy!fem!reader a smutty sequel to baby can we smoke?

3k

cw: 18+. innocent!reader (not minor-coded), sex while high, oral (m & f receiving), spit, smoking, no y/n, no physical descriptions

fresh out the oven for you guys, here's alllll the filthy goodness.

enjoy! xx

Eddie allows himself one last squeeze before dropping his hand and straightening up to his full height— kneeling, that is, which is tall enough for him to gaze down at you all splayed out on the picnic bench, your legs spread in your tiny little pleated skirt, propped on your elbows so you can look up at him, ready and waiting. He draws his hand up your calf to the back of your knee, hooking his palm there and slinging your leg over his shoulder with a waggle of his eyebrows. He's going for roguish, but it must come across a little dorky because you giggle at him, your wide doe-eyes crinkling up tight with amusement.

He can't be mad about it, though, because your giggle is cute, the sound like sunshine and tinkling bells, and Eddie's just realized how much he likes the shape of your smile. Drawn in, he leans forward, shifting your legs back and open for him with the breadth of his shoulders. You lay flat along the bench, your breath hitching as he comes close to your heat. He could taste you now, and he wants to, but your obvious anticipation stirs the mischievous part of him. So Eddie denies himself and you, turning his cheek at the last moment, pressing slow kisses into the crease of your inner thigh until your breathy pleasured sounds turn to little grunts of impatience.

"C'mon, Eddie," you finally whine, wiggling your ass.

Eddie smiles against your skin, enjoying the way you get petulant when you're needy. "Okay, okay," he huffs, feigning exasperation at your attempt to hurry him along.

Finally, he flips your skirt up out of the way. Looking up the clothed plane of your body, Eddie watches you as he finally leans all the way in and kitten licks your clit, gradually applying more pressure with each stroke until your breasts start to heave in that fuzzy sweater. He wants to keep watching you, keep seeing the different ways he can make you react, but the high makes everything more vivid and potent. With it, he can't help but become consumed by what's right in front of him.

Now, Eddie's whole world is your cunt.

He’s surrounded, immersed in you: the sharp-sweet tang of your slippery arousal in his mouth, the heady musk of your skin in his nose, which whistles against you with each heavy breath when he presses his face into your supple lips, desperate to get his tongue into every hidden crevice. And there are so many contrasting textures for him to explore. The fuzzy velvet of your outer lips. The smooth slick of those smaller folds as he burrows in deeper. The firm, fat bead of your clit nestled into its hood, peeking out further to greet him the more he treats her nicely. The flexing strength of your hole, the futile way it tries to grip his tongue and keep him inside as he teases it. There's so much of your sweet, plump fruit to devour, and devour Eddie does, eating your pussy entirely for his own pleasure.

He dips up and down, licking and sucking, nuzzling and nibbling, entranced by the sensation of you against his face. His mind meanders as he nudges back up again, rubs his lips on the soft grit stubble of your mound. You must've shaved a couple days ago, Eddie figures, imagining you with your foot up on the porcelain rim of your tub at home, bending this way and that as you shave your kitty with a little pink razor. And fuck, that's doing something for him right now. Probably 'cause he's high and also ‘cause he maybe liked watching you— sweet, doe-eyed little you— take hits off the fat blunt he twisted a little too much. You were such a good listener, so good at following his directions; obedient to a fault, he’d thought earlier, and in between dipping his tongue into your flexing hole and sucking the sweetness from your lips like your pussy really is a peach, he’s thinking about what else you might do with him here in the woods if he asks you to.

Soon, Eddie wanders too far, getting lost in the feeling of your firm clit rolling against his tongue. Mesmerized, he swirls it over and over in the same pattern, until the repetitive motion feels so satisfying in and of itself that it’s almost incidental when he notices how frantic your moans have become and how your thighs are now twitching against his ears. 

Fuck, you’re gonna cum on his tongue, aren’t you? He’s gonna make you cum all over his goddamn face. Eddie groans against your sweetness as the hazy realization solidifies in his mind. He presses in harder, sucking your little bean into his mouth and latching hard out of giddiness, hard enough that you squeal and thrash and push against his forehead with your palm. He steals another moment before somewhat reluctantly relenting, unpursing his lips and rubbing the flat of his tongue against your clit instead. Up and down, up and down, steady and firm— just twice more before you buck, boxing Eddie’s ears with your thighs so he can barely hear the sound of your broken, sweetly anguished groan. 

As you hit the height of your pleasure, your hips squirm wildly, unpredictable like an untamed horse; he chases you, keeping up the pressure as best he can to work you through it. Once your twitching stops, and the tension in your body seems to edge over into overstimulation, he steals one last quick, wet lap with his wide tongue and pulls away, smacking his lips at the way the orgasm ripened your taste.

Immediately, you pop up to sitting, a healthy sheen dewing your face and your pink-tinged eyes clear and sparkling. Eddie looks up at you, and with the way the sun halos you from behind—gold along the edges of your hair, radiant like the look on your face as you gaze down at him— something sharp-tender twists in his chest. You stretch forward, scrunched up around your middle so you can reach him where he kneels beyond the end of the bench. You anchor your hand on his cheek and draw your thumb underneath his lower lip, wiping yourself from his face. Your touch is soft but not hesitant, and the feeling of you stroking his face renders him motionless, lax like you have him in some kind of weed-fueled angelic trance. 

It breaks when you take your touch away, swinging around on the bench and hopping to your feet. You try to haul him up by both his hands, pulling hard and hardly moving him until he helps you get him to his feet, snorting a chuckle at your consternation. You flash him a look which is far less intimidating than he knows you want it to be. Amused and only mildly chastened, Eddie follows without resistance as you tug him along by the hands; when you push down lightly on his shoulders, he drops his weight, sitting on the bench in your place. 

"Now your turn," you say, your voice sweet and warm, your eyes gleaming eagerly as they fall to his lap. Reflexively, Eddie’s legs shift farther open, spreading almost proudly to show off the tightness at his crotch. It brings his attention back to how goddamn horny you've made him, and it takes some effort to keep from tugging on himself right in front of you like a creep. He rubs his palms along the rough denim of his thighs to relieve the itch to touch instead.

You start to sink down, and he’s almost too high and turned on to notice how you’re about to dent your knees on the little sticks and rocks scattered on the damp soil, but he catches you just in time. He doesn’t give a shit about his own jeans, but he feels a pang— guilt? Conscience? Some sense of gentlemanliness? —at the thought of you enduring the same.

“Wait, wait.” Eddie’s hands shoot out, catching under your elbows to stop you, and your brow crumples briefly but smoothes when he quickly shucks his vest off, spreading it out face-down for you to kneel on. 

“Oh!” All at once, your fruity scent hits him like a cloud at the same time your lips press a firm, sticky kiss to his cheek. “Thanks, Eddie!”

Before he can react, you’re already plopping down, shuffling forward between his knees and, once satisfied with your position, promptly planting your ass on your heels. And Eddie tries to focus on keeping his composure, but without the distraction of eating your pussy and knowing how close he is to having your mouth on him, the need within him flares, raging all insistent and painful. By the time you’ve worked his belt open, his chest is already heaving, all of him yearning for the moment you’ll touch him. And maybe it’s embarrassing, but Eddie can't bite back a hiss when you finally tug down his boxers enough to free him and his heated flesh hits the cool air. 

You pout, your brow crinkled sympathetically. "Don't worry, Eddie," you say, so sincere it just makes him ache all the more. "I'll take care of you."

You look up at him as you run your fist lightly up his length, and even just that slight touch is like a gut punch. He almost whimpers as you grasp just beneath the tip, your gaze dipping down to his cock as you pinch your bottom lip with your teeth. And it’s when he thinks he might have to beg you to finally put your mouth on him, dignity be damned, that you dip your head and take him in.

Eddie’s palms scrape against the rough wood bench as he grips the edge tight, holding on as the ache in his dick transforms with a surge into a hot flare of pleasure, all concentrated where you've started suckling on his tip like a lollipop. You explore his cock like he did your pussy— licking and sucking and nibbling his heated skin, sometimes dipping shallowly down past that sensitive ridge on occasion, but mostly concentrating your attention on his throbbing head.

It’s feeling really good, and his eyes have just slipped closed when he hears you hum, and then suddenly that wet warmth is gone. They snap open to see your face hovering just above his cock; with a curious tip of your head, you glance up at him through your lashes and ask, "D'you like it sloppy, Eddie?"

Oh. Eddie swallows thickly, cheeks prickling as his dick twitches hard in your grasp. "Yeah," he says, his voice faint. "I like it sloppy."

You smile, appearing pleased. "Okay," you reply simply, pursing your lips and letting a generous amount of spit fall from your glistening lips onto his cockhead. You chase it with your tongue, laving up and down his length with long, sweeping, sloppy motions before languidly taking him into your mouth, bobbing halfway down his length for the first time.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. He can feel all the blood in his body cleave into two paths, some racing up his chest and into his face to flush him beet red, and the rest surging downward to harden him to steel. He’s had sex high before, but maybe he’s higher than he thought ‘cause this is just something else entirely, a maelstrom of burning need coaxed by the heaven of your soft, wet mouth. It’s intense, and he just can't help it. His hips buck off the bench, enough so that, even as he tries to stop the motion, he nudges the back of your throat.

Of course, you gag, coughing around him a couple times in the aftermath. "Sorry, sorry," he gasps, jerking his hips back as you lift your head. It pulls him from your mouth, and his cock bounces under its own weight between you.

"S'okay,” you say, and your words are thick but, to his relief, your expression is genuinely unbothered. “It’ll just make me more spitty, anyways.”

You lean back in, working your jaw to gather the new rush of saliva. Eddie watches, entranced, as your hot pink tongue slinks along his cock until every inch of his flushed skin is shiny and slick from your drooling mouth. He expects you to wrap your lips back around him then, but you surprise him by shimmying yourself down lower so that you're looking up from beneath him instead— the perfect position for him to rub his dick on your face. 

And that’s just— he can’t believe that’s what you want him to do, but clearly it is, because you’re fucking smiling up at him and nudging your little nose against the side of his length, happy as can be to have his cock lying across your cheek. Experimentally, he moves his hips, pulling back so his tip rests against your chin before pushing forward again. Aided by your saliva, the motions are smooth, the feeling of your skin slick and warm and soft, made even better when you open your mouth and kiss at him with your lips and tongue as his length glides over them. You take his hand and lift it, encouraging him to direct his own path, which he does— using the valley between his spread thumb and index finger, Eddie keeps himself pressed down snugly as he ruts against you, working himself up to a steady grind.

The sight of it alone is almost enough to get him there: your eyes fuck-me heavy, your face sticky and soaked with spit and precum, the way the rutting of his cock shifts your supple cheek and swollen lips, dragging and molding them with its rhythmic thrusts. It might be one of the most erotic things he’s ever seen.

"Oh my god," Eddie moans, chuckling in disbelief. "Holy fuck, you're—" 

His brain promptly short circuits when you tilt your chin down and suck one of his balls into your mouth. His hips jerk and fall still as he groans, overwhelmed by the sensation; kindly, you start to knead his tip with your hand, keeping it happy while you lavish him further down. Eddie watches wide-eyed as your cheeks hollow and relax rhythmically, massaging one ball in the hot cavern of your mouth before swapping to the other, all the while dragging your tongue along the underside of his sack in a move that has his belly twisting up all sticky tight and his head feeling suddenly faint. 

His occasional grunts and groans have evolved now into a ragged sound Eddie makes on every exhale, and his moans increase in pitch as your fist starts to slide down from his tip over the rest of him. He can't stifle any of the noises you're pulling from him, nor can he control it when he actually fucking whines as your sucking lips latch to the underside of his cock, gradually crawling upward with open-mouthed kisses until you reach his openly weeping slit.

And then you’re jerking him off with quick little flicks of your wrist, your tongue wiggling against the underside of his head—

"I'm gonna cum," Eddie gasps, hit with the knowledge all at once as the feeling surges up like an unstoppable force. "Oh shit, fuck, fuck, I'm comi—ngh!" The word becomes a strangled groan as the pleasure contracts sharply and then expands outward in a rush of liquid ecstasy. Eddie empties across your tongue, his cum spurting in lines over your lips and up the apple of your cheek, so high it almost kisses your eye.

You're a mess. 

You're so. Fucking. Hot.

When he finally comes back down, Eddie notices you're trying to clean said mess from your face, using your fingers like little windshield wipers to clear your eyes and flicking spit and cum off into the dirt. Hurriedly, he peels his flannel down his arms, leaving him in a T-shirt with his jeans still hanging open, neglected for the moment in his haste to help you. "Here," he says, "I got it." 

You drop your hands, letting them rest in your lap as Eddie wipes off your face, trying to be both as thorough and as careful as he can. It's not perfect— your baby hairs are still stuck down in places around your hairline, and you've got a stubborn smudge of mascara beneath one eye that won't come clean— but the cum is gone, and you're no longer covered in spit, at least. Eddie balls up the flannel when he's done, tossing it onto the tabletop in a crumpled heap to be figured out later.

When he turns back around, you're on your feet, straightening your disheveled clothing.

“That was fun!" You chirp brightly, bending down and pulling up your sagging socks.

"It was. Really fun," he agrees, looking at you for a moment. "I didn't think you'd... I mean..." You glance up at him with that expression of vague confusion, straightening and plopping onto the bench beside him, bending to pick up his vest from the ground. "I just didn't expect all that, is all. You just seem so..." 

He feels a pang of conscience that he may insult you by saying so, but he's spoken too much to back out now. "So innocent," he finishes, one eye squinted in a wince, his lips parted and poised to placate you if his assessment upsets you.

You blink at him owlishly, feeling around inside his vest pockets. Before he can ask what you're looking for, you pull out his box of Marlboros. His jaw snaps shut.

"Innocent?" You ask, tapping the end of the box against the heel of your hand and plucking out the cigarette that popped up with the motion. And he's left reeling when you— sweet, doe-eyed little you— place it smoothly between your lips, reaching over to casually grab his zippo from the tabletop. He barely registers the click and flare as you light up, holding his own fucking box of cigarettes out toward him in offering. 

Eddie meets your eyes, dumbfounded by the mirth there. "Huh," you say lightly. "Whatever would make you think that?"

taglist: @probablyin-bed, @ali-r3n, @them-cute-boys, @themellowyellowmomma, @munsonssweets, @crazycat-ladys-blog, @wonderlandwalker, @vinaluvsu, @love-anonymous-writer, @josephquinnsfreckles

[unlust-fvck]

"please get off my lap." "but you're so much prettier from this angle."

with chuckle sammy + will (and dreamy weamy if not its ok)

i had so much fun writing this :’) i went OVERBOARD.

schlatt- it was one of those normal work days for him; editing and playing the same clip over and over again until he deemed it perfect. you, on the other hand, found this pointless and decided to go bother him.

“jayyyyyy”

he wouldn’t even move, knowing your exact objective. he’d just let out one of those disappointed parental sighs. you’d peer into the room and quietly patter into the once spare bedroom that was now schlatt’s streaming/editing/whatever-else room. as you walked up behind him, you placed both of your palms firmly onto his shoulders and nuzzled your cheek into his, now longer, hair. inhaling deeply, you pressed a kiss to the crown of his head.

“i’m busy.”

he knew he couldn’t keep you off for long after you let out a pitiful whine. schlatt let out a sigh as his eyes fluttered closed and spun around in his chair to face you. he stared at you with an inquisitive look. you smiled, knowing you had gotten your way as your eyes flickered down to his lap, then back up to his. he shook his head.

“toots, i’m busy.”

he could repeat it until the end of time as you climbed into his lap. he gave in reluctantly as one arm wrapped around the small of your back to keep you steady. as he attempted to finish his video, you whined impatiently as you played with the neckline of his t-shirt.

“can you please get off my lap? you’re distracting me.”

“but you’re so much prettier from this angle”

he couldn’t argue with that.

charlie- as you got ready for bed, you could hear charlie humming to himself in the bedroom. just as you had finished brushing your teeth, you trotted into the bedroom and sat on the bed. you observed charlie as he tidied up the room, still humming to himself. as he laid down beside you, the humming ceased and his head plopped into your lap, his arms behind his head. you chuckled and pressed a lingering kiss to the center of his forehead. when you pulled away, you found him gazing at you. his eyes were so full of love; an adoring grin gracing his lips.

“char, you’ve got to get your head out of my lap, it’s bed time.”

he just continued to look at you as he formulated the perfect thing to say.

“but you look so pretty from this angle- n-not that you don’t look pretty all the time, im just saying that-“

you shut him up with a kiss.

ted- ted was all about domestic moments with you; everything from cooking dinners to going on dates that gave him butterflies though you had been together for years. tonight was movie night, yet you had other plans. instead of watching the movie that ted was very much interested in, you were gazing at him. the way his nose sloped down and was so cute. the way his eyes gleamed in the light of the television. he was perfect. just as you were bathing in his features, you didn’t realize how close you had gotten to him; your face inches away from his cheek. you pressed a small kiss to it and crawled into his lap for better access. before you could go any further, ted chuckled and tried to push you away, his view obstructed.

“honey pot, i can’t see. you’ve got to get off.”

you pouted and stood your ground as you pressed lingering kisses all along his face and down his neck.

“you.” kiss “just.” kiss “look.” kiss “so.” kiss “pretty.” kiss “from here.”

ted smiled and chuckled breathlessly, before taking his glasses off and sliding them onto the table. he laid down and pulled you with him as he pressed a firm kiss to your lips.

he really didn’t care if he missed the movie.

wilbur- will was a sunday morning enjoyer. he’d have his old battered book in one hand and the other drawing mindless shapes across your half asleep figure in bed. just as he was about to flip the page with his hand on you, you whined and pulled it back down. he looked at you for a moment, piecing your features together, before showing a gentle smile and placing his book down on the bed.

“s’wrong, love?”

his voice was sweet and like caramel; dripping from his lips ever-so gently. you could just melt as his hand continued moving across your collarbones and shoulders mindlessly. you huffed and nodded your head to his lap.

“i’m almost done with this chapter, not now, alright?”

you let out a whine in protest as he chuckled quietly and picked his book back up, the movements on your chest growing lazy. you knew you could push him. you scooted your head into his lap, gazing up at him from underneath his book. your eyes shined like stars; he was beautiful. wilbur let out a lighthearted sigh as he set his book down once again;

“darling, d’ya mind getting your head off my lap?”

you just shook your head, your eyes flickering to his slightly parted lips, then back up to his caramel eyes.

“you look much prettier from down here”

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