#just keep ‘em like they are to reminisce

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Vivace

Chapter Twenty Five

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Bobby, Tiny, Lee, Kevin, Annie, Pamela, Sam, faceless fans and support staff

Word Count: 2900

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, jealousy, grief, musical backstory and hope

A/N: The band played on.

Series Masterlist

You held your breath as Bobby gathered the band backstage. Two dozen roadies, stage crew, and security stilled as he looked past the boys and Pam to their support staff, only Charlie and her team were missing, already in place in the booth. You shivered and waited. Jody’s voice echoed behind the bend thanking the crowd and promising a great show from Phantom Traveler to come. Andy slinked around and continued to snap pictures, despite the glare it earned him anytime Bobby caught the lens pointed toward him. The ragtag group buzzed with excitement and you silently prayed that it would go off without a hitch. 

Finally, Bobby began to speak, “I know a lot of you are nervous about tonight, ‘bout this tour— hell about this band. But it means a lot that y’all signed on for another round of nonsense with these idjits. It means you believe in them, that you’ve got faith they can pull together and get it done. Well, I’m here to tell you it’s not a time to worry, because ain't no other band that can do what these guys do. It’s a time to celebrate. Let’s get out there and fuckin’ rock’n’roll.”

Lee hooted and people cheered, you couldn’t help but clap and shriek along. Then everyone crowded in for the circle of hands and chanted “Phaaaaaantom TRAV-ler!”

The band and crew maneuvered in the dark, letting the interim instrumentals keep the crowd distracted as they set up. You scurried back to where you had left Bela in the wings, under Tiny’s care.

“Everything alright?” Bela asked out of the side of her mouth, shifting in place as she tried to clock Dean amongst the many moving shapes.

“Aces,” you replied, bouncing on the balls of your feet as the crowd started to clap with an increasing beat.

You spotted Sam and Kevin’s silhouettes high five and then Lee strummed a teaser chord. Walkie talkies crackled around you as the all clear was called. You kept an earpiece in, but without much left for you to do, you turned it to the lowest setting besides mute. 

It was go time. 

“Bring ‘em up, Charlie,” Bobby prompted over the line and the Forum erupted. 

Lights and wavelengths of sound shot off in every direction and Phantom Traveler took off.

You wouldn’t have stopped yourself from screaming bloody murder even if you had remembered you were directly beside your very posh best friend and her security detail. 

It was happening. They made it back home.

“Good evening Inglewood!” Dean greeted, pointedly accurate. Plus you could tell he was grinning from where you stood, from just the sway of his head and a glimpse of his profile.

There was no other chit chat, no grand speech thanking them for coming out, it was just the band, the music, and the audience.

They started off with ‘Woman in White’, their first major single and something high energy enough to get people out of their seats. Then on to the B side of their first EP, which was a cult favorite called ‘Playthings’ that featured something affectionately referred to as ‘the beat off’ between Sam and Pam.

But at the time it was written, it was played by Sam and Cas.

Pam did it better.

It was like someone was racing up the stairs or against time itself as the two rhythm setting musicians fought for dominance. The crowd ate it up. And you could tell they both were already dripping sweat by the time the song ended and they tuned it back and finally jumped into their last fateful album.

‘Scarecrow’ was haunted and foreboding, reminiscent of early 90s metal that you knew Dean adored. It was also Cas’ favorite track off that entire album. And Kevin killed the bridge as the keyboard turned into an ancient organ chasing the crows away with the dawn. Charlie even added a cackling Vincent Price at the end that couldn’t be topped.

“How’s everybody doing tonight?!” Lee took the words out of Dean’s mouth, which earned him a kick in the ass. They were having a blast up there and it was infectious.

The crowd roared.

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” Dean bellowed. “I hope you don’t mind, but we’d like to bring somebody out for this next number.”

Shrill ruckus pierced the air, they knew what was coming.

“She’s our very dear friend and we just so happened to convince her to tag along with us this tour. You know her, you love her, please— give a very warm welcome to the incomparable Ms. Annie Hawkins!”

Everyone screamed and stomped, watching as the spotlight followed Annie from the farside of the stage towards the standing mics centerstage.

“Oh, she looks amazing,” Bela spoke for the first time since you’d gotten back. And she wasn’t wrong.

“The girls probably had a blast with her in their dressing room,” you tacked on thoughtfully.

“Her top though,” Bela continued. “I want it.”

You chuckled at Bela’s priorities and quickly got sucked back into what was happening barely thirty feet away.

“You sure you’re ready over there?” Annie teased as Dean adjusted his mic after rushing to set down his guitar.

The crowd laughed in unison.

“I’m ready, do you think they’re ready?” Dean asked coyly, gesturing to the crowd.

All around you camera screens glowed and flashed burst through the darkened arena. Concert security lined the stage and guarded the partitioned areas for the crew and band to navigate the area. Until that moment you really hadn’t been able to pull any single response from the cacophony. You hadn’t been trying anyway. But when Annie goaded Dean a cluster of women in the pit got your attention.

“And here I thought you were out here warming them up for me?” Annie teased.

The crowd loved it, but one catty comment made it feel like you and Bela were right there up on stage with them. “Bela needs to get her man before that cougar gets too cozy up there.”

They eyed your little corner below the VIP suspiciously. You missed whatever Dean said in response, instead watching the women glare and Bela adamantly ignore them in equal measure.

But then the song began. A slow and slinking start reminiscent of Springsteen’s Fire. Which you clocked the first time you heard it, but that was just the intro. The lyrics started up as a quick conversation, a compromise even and then they were harmonizing into the chorus. 

The band hadn’t done many duets, even with such talented singers in their ranks. It wasn’t their style. But this song felt like it had always existed, it was timeless and familiar and really fucking catchy. Annie beamed at Dean when he slipped closer on stage and they belted out the final lines.

It made you feel like they were performing only for you, for their people. It was honest and intimate, but this wasn’t rehearsal or karaoke and the audience would not be forgotten.

Everyone cheered. Even the judgy bitches that kept watching Bela at your side.

Dean hugged Annie and made sure she got the reception she deserved, egging the crowd on and bowing in homage to her talent.

She rolled her eyes, did a snarky curtsy and waved her way back off stage.

“You guys seem to be digging that one. Maybe we could play some more new stuff for y’all tonight?” Lee asked. “I mean— the album isn’t out yet.”

Naturally, the crowd shouted and begged for more.

Bela turned to whisper to you. “They’re not gonna get in trouble for this are they?”

You shook your head. “They’ve got permission to do a few songs until the album is actually out and then they’ll change up the set list to cover more of the new stuff.”

“Got it.”

“Yeah, bootlegs always exist, but this way they’re building excitement but not giving away the farm.”

“Lee!” Dean admonished playfully. 

“What?!” Lee spat back, smirking.

“Sam— tell him.”

Sam shook his head, always stoic on stage.

Dean kept up the ruse. “I don’t know if we should. Pamela?”

Pamela thudded the bass drum and hit the crash. 

“Okay! Pammy’s in— Kevo?” Lee kept the momentum going.

And without any warning or time for Kevin to actually respond, they burst into the opening of 'Prophet and Loss'. 

“I would kill for a drink—- is there somebody we could send to concessions?” Bela asked midsong. And you looked around, wondering if any of the staff could actually leave their posts without getting in trouble. 

You suddenly felt like a bad host. “We’ll get you a box for Vegas. I know this isn’t as fun as it sounds standing for two hours straight.”

“Y/N, I’m fine. Promise.”

“Okay, well I’ll go after the next song. You want anything, Tiny?” you asked your silent companion.

“All good, boss.” He replied and straightened his stance, clasping his hands in front of him.

Kevin silenced the space with the burst of chords at the beginning of his solo, showcasing what Julliard training could do and how rock’n’roll could still be classy as hell. The key changed, turning the mood broken and lamenting as they stumbled into the bridge where Dean pelted out about losing Cas without so much detail.

 Dean let the note hang in the air. “'Prophet and Loss', everybody.”

Whistles filled the air, keeping the mood somber but with enough reception to know that small offering was gratefully accepted.

“Thanks— uh, I, we really appreciate being here tonight and being able to share some of the new album with everybody. But we know you wanna hear the stuff you know, too. So we’re gonna hop back to it and have a kick ass night. How’s that sound?” Dean checked in.

The crowd cheered.

“Did you hear something?” Dean asked Lee jokingly.

The crowd got louder.

“I don’t know if they’re up for much more,” Lee taunted back.

You rolled your eyes and turned to Bela. “Okay, I’ll be back, text me if you think of anything besides drinks.”

The crowd continued to take the bait, howling behind you as you made your way out of the off limit areas and up a side stairway towards the general admission cavern-like hallway. For the first time it felt like all day, you exhaled. Your pass flapped against your chest as you strutted quickly towards the concession area, bypassing the VIP lounge because you didn’t want to get distracted by Madison or any of the mid-level suits that might be milling around.

You could have stolen something from the dressing room, but that wouldn’t have taken nearly as long and you needed some time off of Bela duty tonight. Which made you feel guilty as hell. She was your best friend! She didn’t do anything wrong. And yet you were incredibly frustrated with even the thought of her.

So you waited in line, ordered two extremely overpriced and depressingly weak cocktails, and put them on your expense card. 

The thing about regret is that it isn’t a one time experience. There might have been a moment in the process of you contriving this scenario for Dean’s redemption where you second or third guessed yourself. But the biting sting of seeing him play happy with Bela online and even in person had come at you in waves.

Regret was bearable if it meant it worked, if Dean could have some peace.

But this wasn’t just regret, it was petulance and jealousy and injustice.

Because Bobby had asked all the way back in the beginning, why couldn’t it have been you playing arm candy? And the fact that people could see what you had tried so hard to bury and ignore plain as day, well, it made you feel incredibly small and even more pathetic.

There was no reason for you to be the one at Dean’s side. But damn did you want to be.

And somehow you had managed to keep that from one of the most important people in your life. So it wasn’t just that Bela was getting a part of Dean that you’d never have. Or parts. You shuttered at the thought of where his mouth had been. It was that your best friend hadn’t even clocked the elephant in the room.

Like she didn’t even know you at all.

Or maybe that was on you too. Maybe you hadn’t been honest with yourself until it was too late. How could you put that blame on her too?

You slammed your drink and got back in line for a replacement, not wanting to return with only Bela’s cup like some kind of maid. You could hear the crowd singing along with Lee on ‘A Reaper’s Offering’, a bluesy cut from their second studio album. 

You probably had another two songs before you’d miss anything else new. But you also knew Bela was waiting and the longer the show went on, the more drunk and ballsy random fans could get. You couldn’t leave her with the forever nonplussed Tiny for backup. You smiled at the woman working the bar cart apologetically and ordered another husk of a cocktail.

After another stream of applause, the opening bars of ‘Abandon All Hope’ started and you knew you had to book it. This was Jo’s song, you couldn’t miss it. You never left Dean to get through this one alone. Huffing down the service steps with two drinks in hand in heels was something that you managed only from practice, but you made it in time for the first chorus.

“Oh aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Bela murmured to her drink before sipping it and wincing. “It’ll do. Took you long enough,” she teased and winked, hip checking you as you struggled to get your breathing under control as you mouthed along with Dean’s words.

“Trapped by your side with no exit, we had to let you go—”

Bela quickly picked up on your shift in mood and reeled in the playfulness, for which you gave her a grateful glance before turning back to try and lock eyes with Dean on stage.

“Defending that night while trying to give comfort, we should have known—”

“To abandon all hope,” you sang out, the last lyric rising up to hover in the air. 

Dean turned and glanced in your direction and then looked again once he finally saw you. He nodded and tapped his heart and you returned the gesture, you both kept her safe as you could now. He blew a kiss to the ceiling and bowed.

The crowd continued to echo around you, suffocating yet as distant as thunder. 

“Alrighty, folks, we’re gonna take a short break for Sammy to find another shirt and we’ll get you one last sneak peak,” Dean explained. “Kevin? Think you and Pam can keep ‘em busy for me?”

“Aye-aye,” Kevin said and saluted, out of range of his mic stand.

Pam started in with the count and Kevin peeled in down from the upper registers, like he was sliding in from Heaven and crashing a party. The instrumental interlude was a mesmerizing feat of jumping genres and killing time while showcasing just what all each of them could do. But you weren’t even paying attention. Dean made a beeline for the back of the stage and he wound around security until he could find you. 

He gripped the ball of your shoulder and leaned in. “I didn’t see you until the end— had me worried, Trouble!”

He had to talk over the crowd, his back firmly towards the nearest wedge of fans.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be!”

He stared at you, sweaty and down to a single layer, earpiece still in his left ear. 

“You’re killing it up there,” Bela said, making you both stop and blink. Dean grinned and pulled her into a hug, a boyfriend hug, arms tight around her waist so her arms can loop around his neck. She even kicked a leg back for balance. 

God was she good.

“You keep an eye on her, okay? She’s gonna need tissues for the next one,” Dean warned playfully down his nose at Bela about you.

She rolled her eyes. “You are a menace on the emotional, aren’t you?”

“All in a day’s work,” Dean shrugged and set her back on her own two feet.

The crackle of a nearby walkie made Dean look around for whoever was sent to find him. “Sam’s looking for you,” an unimpressed lackey of Benny’s pointed out from ten feet away.

“Yeah, I bet he is. Alright, well, see you ladies later— Tiny,” Dean stepped back nodding. He soon disappeared only to hop up on the wing of the stage, grabbing an acoustic and sliding it on.

After the chaos of the crowd dissipated from Pamela’s and Kevin’s antics, Dean and Sam walked on stage and sat down on a pair of stools that had been left out for them. They didn’t look at each other or even the crowd and you knew in that moment that Dean hadn’t been lying. You weren’t gonna survive the next song live with a dry eye.

‘Brothers Keeper’ nearly took down the entire venue. 

Cell phones and lighters blazed in the dark, enraptured space as Dean and Sam sang about each other, about family, and about forgiveness.

Tagging:

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[horseshoemybeloved]

I found my jackets from mania era,,, ( leather one I was like 14, long one I was 15 )

I wore the leather one to my fob show in Boston 2017 and long one Mohegan Sun 2018

[hurtspideyparker]

One night in the lab Peter finds an old prototype of the EDITH glasses and puts them on.

"Look Mr. Stark! I am Iron Man," he says with a deep voice.

"C'mon kid, that's the best impression you got?" Tony says before looking up.

He sees Peter with those rectangular frames and big grin. For a moment he thinks he's looking at old publicity photos of himself. A confident Tony Stark, tinted glasses and cocky smile, hair fluffed up and oozing manly charm.

Tony's easy smile drops a bit at the thought of Peter being anything like who he used to be.

"Oh sorry for talking over you Ms. Potts I just like the sound of my own voice more than hearing about the safety of our company. I'm too cool to apologize so I'll buy you a zoo for endangered species later honey," Peter tries again with the mocking deep voice.

Tony is quick to recover from the odd deja-vu feeling of seeing the teenager in the frame of a mirror, focusing back on his hologram.

"Yeah because I call the love of my life by her last name. And for your information it was an alpaca sanctuary, and she loved it." Tony corrects, pointing a pen at Peter in rebuke without looking up from his work.

"I chose to be respectful over accurate. Also I saw those alpaca photos and one of them was trying to chew on her skirt, she didn't look very impressed." Peter replies with a matter of fact press of his lips.

Tony glances back at the boy only to find himself unable to look away. He can't help but hear echoes of "I just wanted to be like you!" when he sees the boy wearing frames reminiscent of Tony's classic fashion sense.

Tony thinks about Howard, how he used to run laps to prove he was good enough, better than, worthy of being his son.

He was never enough for Howard.

"You're always better at remembering that kind of stuff than me anyways kid."

Peter is taken back by the earnest tone the older man suddenly possesses. His mouth opens but no words come out in reply, Tony looking at him as if he can see right through the spiderling.

"Now stop playing with my old crap and c'mere, we have some important decisions to make," Tony waves him over to look at something on his phone.

When Peter gets close enough he sees that it's a food delivery app, Tony's fingers hovering between an Indian and Thai restaurant.

Peter shoots him another grin, "I vote for samosas!"

Tony rolls his eyes but clicks on the Indian restaurant anyways.

Peter notices in the reflection of the phone that he still has the glasses on, reaching up to remove them before Tony puts a hand on his wrist to stop him.

"Keep em on, it's the first time you've ever looked cool enough to hang out with me. The tech in those is useless anyways, they're just a pair of sunglasses now."

Peter looks up at his mentor with such awe and admiration that Tony nearly melts like butter under the sun.

Tony may not do many things right when it comes to people, but he knows that even when he was still young and naive he'd known better than to ever look at Howard like that.

So maybe there's one thing he hasn't screwed up.

[darkdevasofdestruction]

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓵 𝓝°5 ~ 𝓗𝓾𝓼𝓴𝓮𝓻 𝔁 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

Oh, to be young and in love, in the most romantic era of the notorious 1950s, with one very magical man who never fail to make you swoon with every suave look who offers.

It isn't very often that Husker reminisces his past life - He knows, if he does, he will remember all of the good times, when his heart was gold and trembling with pure emotion - After all, if he recalls the time he was alive, and very much in love, his frozen heart will just shatter to dust once again, with the same infinite anguish he felt once everything was ripped away from his grasp.

A pain so intolerable, that runs so deep - A pain that no amount of alcohol can mend.

He never truly knows whether he wants to remain asleep forever, so that he will never have to face reality again, or if that would be a nightmare, tormenting him for the remaining abyss of eternity...

Or, perhaps he should stay awake, so that memories will stop toppling him over, beginning with a most beautiful reverie, yet always ending with the same night terror he must face every time.

If this is his way of paying for his irredeemable sins, then he is well aware he deserves it, and even more - Yet every smell reminds him of that sweet Chanel N°5 that she used to wear. Every time he closes his eyes, he dreams of the gracious dances he would share with her. Every song he hears, he recalls that angelic voice of hers, and every time he lays abed and stares up at the ceiling, her seraphic visage flashes before him.

"You are drinking again." Angel slumped in one of the stools by the bar, noticing his best friend looking in a far worse state than usual. "Rough day?"

"Rough life." Husk rasped, chugging down a whole bottle of strong spirits.

"Wanna talk about it?" he tried, in vain, to appear sympathetic - The feline demon was far too gone into his own darkness to even think about slurring away his never-ending sorrows.

"I wanna die, that's what I want." he growled, slamming away the bottle into the nearest wall. "Just like this fucking bottle. That's what I fuckin' wanna do - I wanna die, damn it!"

Angel's eyes widened greatly - Yes, life in hell surely was crazy, and especially for demons like the two of them, who sold their souls away because of their own failures, both in life, and now, in hell - But what in the world could it have caused him to get so hopeless that he was unable to fight back the tears glistening in those tortured eyes?

Even someone like him couldn't dare to make light of the situation, or try and crack a joke, let alone taunt or flirt with him. He felt... Pity, for the poor bartender who always listens to others' woes, yet dares naught speak out his own problems.

"Listen... Husk, ergh... I'm not the best at comforting, okay? But... If I can help, you can tell me... And, if not, then... I'll still be here. And maybe try to keep the others away from you. How's that?" Husk didn't quite seem to compute what his friend said, though he robotically nodded his head, as if remote controlled.

Angel remained in that stool for a few hours, watching the winged demon drink bottle after bottle after bottle, yet his sorrows only washed over him tenfold with each shattered glass against a different wall. He wonders what is going through Husk's mind, what he's ruining himself over with each sigh o grip on his fur.

Who would have thought that, of all things possible, Husker's greatest lament was...

"I fucking hate red. Why the fuck are my wings red? Of all the fucking colours in hell, they just had to be red, yeah?" he stammered angrily, pulling at his feathers. "Y'know what? They can't change colour. Tried dyeing 'em, but nothin'. Got so much fuckin' red on me - I wonder if it's Hell's way of punishin' me forever for my fucking sins."

He hates red...? What an odd statement - He truly seems to have a personal vendetta against that colour - But why? It's just a colour, after all, it can do no wrong. "Why... Do you hate red so much...? Angeldust dared to ask.

At first, he was met with a low growl, hostile, yet inoffensive at its core. Then, he heard a most disturbing answer. "That was the colour of my wife's dress when I last went home." Angel's brain shut down completely. To think someone was trusting him with such a vulnerable piece of himself, the very core of their hopelessness, their weakness; In a way, he felt flattered that Husk trusted him so much, yet in another way... He couldn't help but feel borderless pity for his friend. He wishes such a fate to no one... Well, maybe to Valentino.

Angel forced himself to smile softly, placing his hand gingerly over his own, taking away the alcohol from his hand. "What was her name?" Husk looked up with shock, a little startled, right into his dual coloured eyes - He hasn't ever spoken her name out loud, it almost felt like a blasphemy against her purity. Yet... Maybe... "Y/N." he dared whisper.

"Y/N." Angel repeated after him. "A beautiful name for a beautiful lady." Husk nodded his head.

"She was a Princess." he muttered, his sight blurry with tears.

"A Princess? Really? Nobility and all that?" much to his surprise, Husker chuckled.

"Nah, not quite." he rasped. "At heart, she was. Her family was very rich, so she was pampered up. Huge manor, servants, a personal maid, luxury brands, jewellery and perfumes, indulging in any studies and hobbies she liked..."

"How'd you two meet? I don't suppose you were a Prince or something, were you?" Angel tried to joke friendly, encouraging his friend to open up.

"Ha. Far from it." in his hand, a few dices appeared, and he idly played around with them. "I was an ugly dead beat from a working class broken family. Hardly worthy of her attention." he gritted his teeth bitterly. "Got around to finding work at a young age - Gambling, magic, sax player - If I had money to live, anything worked."

"Did you meet at one of your gigs?" Husk nodded his head affirmatively.

"No clue what she saw in me, Angel. She could do so much better." for a split second, he had a dry smirk on his face, before it disappeared again. "I asked her once, what the hell did she see in me - And she said... I played her favourite song. Silly, innit?"

He didn't receive a mocking laugh, much to his surprise - Instead, Angel cooed. He never imagined the jaded demon before him could be so romantic! "What did you play?" Instead of answering, Husk turned around to his bar, and took out another bottle, yet this time, he hummed a familiar tune as he was doing his bartending for two glasses. "Oh, now I get it - You always hum that song when no one's around! I thought you were just bored out of your mind." he let out an amused exhale. "Fly me to the moon... Refined tastes, alright."

"The stars in the sky never sparkles as brightly as those in her eyes when she looked at me." no wonder he never accepted any flirting from anyone - How could anyone match the love he had for Y/N? "If I were a decent man, I'd have told her not to waste her precious time and love on me. Instead, I was a selfish fuck. I stole years of her life... And in the end, I even stole her life. All because I wasn't even half the fucking man I pretended to be."

The conversation soon turned significantly sour. "I was the man - I was supposed to provide for her. Afford all that fucking expensive Chanel N°5, and the Dior dresses, the Chantelle lingerie, and the damn Cartier and Tiffany's jewellery." even someone more modern like Angel knew all those luxury brands, and was even more impressed and shocked that they could so easily afford such high-end items. "I brought her flowers every day and I took her out on brunches every morning, on dates every afternoon, and to soirees every fucking evening. She loved dancing at parties... But I suppose she preferred the moonlight over the chandeliers."

"You must have overworked yourself a bunch to afford all these things. I'm sure she appreciated it." Angel tried to comfort him, earning a nod of agreement.

"She told me she didn't need any gift, except for my presence. Genuine woman, that one. But how could I, in good conscience, go to her parents and ask for her hand in marriage, when I couldn't even afford a half-decent house with a room for each of her hobbies, a drawer for each month outfit, another for her shoes and three more for her bags, jewels and perfumes; and a large flower garden and a fucking rose gazebo and a swan pond with ten different breeds of pedigree dogs." Angel cringed a little, realising the tremendous gap between their living conditions. "I lost myself on the way to greatness. She was making me so euphoric that I just wanted to see her excited every moment of her life. I didn't need to eat or drink, I just needed to see her smile, and I could work again a few more days without rest."

"But then... You collapsed from overworking?" Husker shook his head.

"Worse. I fooled her parents completely, and we planned our wedding." he replied bitterly.

"How is that a bad thing? Isn't the wedding day the happiest day in a couple's life?" Husk sighed, from the deepest part of his soul.

"It was." he said. "I got greedy. I went to loan sharks, took a shit ton of money to make that wedding the most grand event the country saw in a while. Then went on a month-old honey moon around the world." he cursed in a few different languages that Angel couldn't understand, but was sure were some highly offensive and crude words that he would never utter around Y/N. "I don't need to say more, do I?"

Yeah, he needn't continue speaking the descent into madness, alright. Angeldust didn't want to hear that his friend's love story ended up in his soulmate getting murderer by the loan sharks, only for him to end up killing them, and then himself, out of pure rage and sorrow. He didn't want to hear that an innocent woman like Y/N never knew that her husband was broke and took loans, just to try and mimic the lavish lifestyle she grew up with and deserved. He didn't want to hear the broken shriek of anguish, or the streaming river of tears that befell as Husker saw her dead, on the floor, her pearly pink dress dyed a deep crimson from her own blood, and getting even more stained with each strong embrace he held around her shattered body, just like a precious porcelain doll fallen off the shelf.

They only just recently became something akin to 'best friends' from both sides... Yet Angel couldn't bare to hear the tragic end of the story, and he couldn't even begin to imagine the pain he felt, having to live his afterlife as a Sinner, for as long as he has, without the woman he loves by his side.

"It's better this way, I guess. At least she finally got rid of me. Wherever she is, she must be living far better, than with a lying fuck like me who couldn't keep it together." the spider demon frowned, watching his friend slump on the bar counter.

"I don't think that's the case." he spoke vehemently. "I don't believe there is any person, of any kind, treasuring her as much as you did." Husk's ears perked up immediately, twitching lightly. "At least on an emotional way, I'd say, you and Y/N were lucky. There's so many people who never experience the love you had, let alone get to meet and marry their soulmate."

"What the fuck would you know?!" he growled, throwing a bottle at his head, only for the demon to dodge.

"... I wish I had fallen in love too, you know?" Husk gritted his teeth, realising the sensitive wound that he unwillingly stabbed open - But it wasn't his foult - He is hurt! He is in pain! "As a human, as a demon... I was like you, sort of. I was so shit at managing my life, that I ended up falling prey to my vices... I needed more and more, and I couldn't resist. I had no ration or logic. I gave in to my so-called 'friend group' and got addicted to drugs... Couldn't get rid of that addiction even after death... And I clinged on the only demon who could give me what I wanted... And now, I can't escape Val, even if I wanted to turn my life around and live the life that I never could." Angel had a wry smile on his face. "Do you really think a drug addict or the most famous porn star of hell would be able to meet his soulmate, without destroying their life in the process also?"

The two remained silent, only hanging their head and sighing. No matter how happy life can be for some... It will never have a chance of turning around for them. It just couldn't be. They are in hell, after all. Even Charlie won't be able to save them and bring them on the path of redemption, no matter how insanely enthusiastic and cheerful she can be... They were still sure to drown.

Somehow, this few hours of vulnerability brought Husk and Angel closer, and although they won't be speaking about it again, it was clear to the residents of the Hazbin Hotel that the two were as close as two demons can get, without the inclusion of vice or extortion.

Things were going well enough for them, even with the new addition of Sir Pentious, the villain turned... Something? It was still not too bad around the hotel. Though unsure of whatever Charlie's plan was, to fight against the purge from the Angels, they were still there to sort-of support whatever dream the Princess of the Pride Circle has.

That is, until the Hotel opened its doors to a brand new resident, a gorgeous demoness dressed elegantly in a dress of pearly pink, adorned with high quality jewellery, and with her long hair done stylishly, and smelling like a fresh day of Spring. She walked in guided by the Radio Demon, of all people, and she was smiling so demurely, completely unafraid of the fiend next to her, yet still reserved and soft.

"No way, is that Chanel N°5?! How'd you get it in here?!" Angel squealed, fangirling over the flowery perfume - But then, it clicked for him. Didn't Husker mention his wife loving this scent the most?

"Oh, you noticed! I am so happy that there are more sensible people - Erh - Demons with refined tastes!" the girl unfolded her laced fan and giggled behind it demurely.

Although she looked even more regal than even the Princess of Hell herself, as they stood next to each other, there was one particular detail that made the new-comer stand out from any other netizen.

With her hands clasped together over her chest, a bright white gold ring, with a most brilliant zircon was shining brighter than even the moon herself.

Whilst the other demons gathered around the seraphic beauty, wanting to have her attention, and even going as far as to have Alastor speak out about this new lady, Husker's breath stopped completely; His brain was going into overdrive, and his heart, he wanted to rip out of his chest.

That ring... That ring, he knew all to well - After all, he bought it himself, when he proposed to Y/N. That voice, the fashion, the mannerism... Even with altered looks, she looked the same. Even in hell, she looked the same. Even with demonic eyes, she looked the same.

She was the most beautiful woman in the universe.

"Y/N, this is Husker, our bartender." Charlie's face was split open by her overly-cheerful grin. "Husk, won't you introduce yourself to Y/N?"

"I'm not a fucking child. I don't need to introduce myself." the man hissed aggressively. "This is fucking stupid, I'm out." without even realising, he shattered the glass in his grasp, before stomping away into his room.

How could that be? Was this a nightmare? Surely, this must be some impersonator demon or something - There's no way an innocent being like Y/N could possibly have ended up in Hell, with a bunch of Sinners, of all thing. Was this his fault also? Did he bring her down with him to hell? Was he never going to be forgiven for all of the shit he's done in his previous life? Did Alastor bring her to the Hotel, so that he could blackmail him even more? Was his empty soul worth so little, in the end?

He was so afraid - Will Y/N be angry once she realises who he is? He couldn't blame her, obviously, he's earned her scorn... Yet why is his heart hurting so bad? He wishes so badly to jump on her and wrap her in his arms and wrings, and never again let her go. Ah, but he looks like a stupid flying cat... He looks ridiculous. There's no way...

...

Perhaps... She should stay with Al...

He has the influence, the money, the fashion sense, the looks, the freedom and privilege, the elegance...

Alastor has everything, and embodies everything that he could never be.

In life, he was selfish, and he didn't let go of her. Perhaps, the only way to apologise and make up for his sins was to let her be cherished by a man capable of doing what he never could.

As he lay awake on the bed, curled up and cursing his whole existence, wanting to sob until his body was all dried up and shriek until his throat was bleeding raw; he wanted to claw his face to velvety ribbons and drown his lungs with all of his blood... As he was succumbing to his self-hatred and spiraling down into the depths of despair, Y/N decided to end the day with some delicious pastries and an aromatic cup of tea in the garden, with her friend, Alastor.

Y/N was idly playing with her ring, looking at the inscription inside of it. 'Y/N ♡ Husker'. How absolutely adorable, she thought, a beautiful smile gracing her features. "He looks... Different. Are you sure it is the same person, Alastor?" her voice showed nervousness.

"Y/N, Y/N, would I lie to you?" he grinned, as always, sipping from his tea. "You should hear him purr. He truly resembles a little kitten."

Y/N looked up into he friend's eyes, a look of intense surprise and borderline intrigue taking over. "Are you being truthful? He... Purrs?" she gasped, quickly slipping her ring back on her finger.

"Yes, my darling. Unconsciously, someone strokes his fur, he gets so very adorable~." Alastor hums, watching the lady before him being so romantically melancholic over a life long gone. "What did you think about today's meeting?"

Y/N sighed, looking up into the sky. "I feel guilty for enjoying the moment I ripped Velvette apart, yet I feel no remorse for killing her. Such an uncouth and vulgar person has no right to behave with such disrespect towards me." Alastor's grin widened significantly. "And... I cannot wait for the next purge. I want to burn Heaven to cinders. Those hypocrites have grown far too arrogant for their own good, and I believe they need to be taught a harsh lesson."

"I see we are on the same wavelength as always, my dear." the demon sipped from his tea. "I am quite glad those arrogant hypocrites turned you away, for such a silly thing like - Vanity - They say. Beautiful women should be allowed to feel that-a-way, not ostracised for being such jewels for one's eyes." ever the charmer with poison dripping from his tongue. "Before I turn in for the evening, I have a gift for you - For friendship's sake." Y/N rose a suspicious eyebrow, watching as he took out a carefully folded picture from his blazer's pocket, and handing it to her. "I am going for a new fitting with Rosie tomorrow, should you wish to join us for a lovely day of self-care." the girl smiled, nodding her head at him in appreciation. "Have a pleasant evening."

Y/N muttered her pleasantries, and waited for Alastor to leave her sight, before unfolding the picture and bursting to tears. She cradled the precious memory to her heart, and sobbed for as long as her heart needed.

What have they done so wrong to deserve this? They were so happy while alive, so what went wrong? Was her opulent life, the reason for their downfall? Did her beloved think she wouldn't love him, if he couldn't match her family's wealth? Were all soulmates made to be torn apart while at their most blissful?

Still, she was grateful that she wasn't accepted into Heaven, for she would have had a most awful afterlife, as opposed to the many Overlord friends she made since she's been sent to Hell after her gruesome death, and the many favours she received from the Lords and Royals who went to Earth to retrieve items of importance for her.

Drying her tears, Y/N walked back inside the hotel, ready to turn in for the night, only to stop in her tracks as soon as she heard a soft sob, followed by a few very familiar curses in a variety of languages that she knew all too well. Her heart clenched as she stepped cautiously towards the foreign room, eavesdropping for any other sound, only to be met with more muffled cries.

Biting her lip, the demoness knocked on the door, only to be cursed harshly and told to fuck off. Y/N gulped, feeling taken aback by being talked in such a way - Though she immediately composed herself, reminding herself that he, too, is hurting, most likely far more than she is.

She excused herself before opening the door and entering. "What fucking part of 'FUCK OFF' don't you FUCKING UNDERSTA---" Husk was livid, getting in a sitting position as he growled with incredible hostility at the one who dared barge in his bedroom so rudely, only to remain speechless as he realised it was the demoness herself, standing with a sympathetic smile on her face. She also seemed to have been crying prior to this. "Oh. It is you." he cleared his throat, getting back on the bed, unable to face her.

"I have missed you dearly." her voice was so soft, so beautiful, so endearing... "I... Cannot believe that I am seeing you again. It seems to me that, no matter how far apart, our souls will forever traverse oceans of time and space, just to embrace each other once more."

She could hear him sniffling, his nails digging deep into the blanket. "You have always been so romantic and poetic." he grumbled, hiding his face in the pillow. "You shouldn't be here."

"You will have to be more specific, my love." she hummed, moving to sit on the edge of his bed. "Here - In Hell? Or here - In your room? Either way, I would say, I am right where I need to be."

"I don't understand." as if burning with frustration, Husk shot up, looking with self-hatred at the girl. "You did nothing wrong your entire life. You were nothing but a living sunshine. A fucking flower in human form. What the fuck did those angels not agree with, that they cast you to this shit hole?"

"There was a time when you would beat up any man who would curse in my presence." Y/N's adorable giggle made the demon's face flush red. "I am sorry that you are suffering so much, at my expense. I could never repay you for everything you have done for me, while we were alive."

"What the hell are you apologising for anyway? I got you killed, not the other way around - And even if it were that way, it'd've been a blessing in disguise, getting rid of a dead beat worthless fuck like me." he huffed, looking away. "You always were too good for me." the demon had so much to say, so many regrets to yell, so much love to spill... Alas, he remained quiet. "You seemed happy with Al. I wish I could be that, while we were alive." his voice went to soft, it was barely audible. "You should... Stay with him."

"Yes, I am happy being friends with Alastor. He was the one who introduced me to Rosie and Carmilla and Zestial, and I cherish them all dearly, as my like-minded friends." Y/N spoke calmly, reaching her hand to cup her lover's soft cheek. "He also was the one to tell me of your misdemeanours. How you succumbed to your vices; to gambling and alcohol, to the the point that you lost your soul in a deal with him. How pitiful." he was so confused as to where she was trying to get with her words, yet in spite of the anticipation for blames and reproaches, he couldn't help but lean into her warm and gentle touch. "He is the one who helped me become an Overlord, and I took your place. And it is Alastor, and some other friends of mine, who helped retrieve some objects I thought long lost."

"... You still smell like Chanel N°5." his comment made the girl giggle again.

"One of my friends had his little imps go to the human world and rob an entire Chanel store, to bring me all Chanel N°5 perfume bottles." how incredulous, Husk thought, staring at the girl flabbergast, speaking of a clear crime, committed in her name. And then, he started laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of her statement.

"Angel would kill to have a whole room of Chanel N°5." he said, his eyes softening as he put his hand over hers. "Y/N... Knowing that you are doing fine... That you aren't suffering... Or anything that I put you through... It makes me... Content."

"My darling." Y/N called out. "Do you remember the day of our wedding?"

"Of course I do. What's that question?"

With a cheeky grin, she took out the picture from her purse, handing it to her beloved. "Alastor was able to find this. His connections truly are amazing." Husk's eyes were wet with falling tears, and his lips were trembling. "I forgot I had pink roses braided in my hair. I was so busy looking at my handsome husband, that everything around me vanished." Husk's sobbing got even louder. "I wanted to frame this picture first, but I couldn't resist showing it to you first."

"Get out, Y/N! Get out!" his voice was broken and raw, so pained that even her heart shattered. "I am not the man you fell in love with. Why do you think my name is 'Husk'? I am just that - A husk of the man I never was. I am not worth anything. I don't amount to anything. I just gamble money I don't have and drink booze until I pass out. I don't deserve a second chance, and I certainly don't deserve you. I never did. I got you killed, damn it!"

"You think too much, you fool." Y/N cupped his face, bringing him into a gentle kiss - A kiss so loving that it numbed his pain, and hightened his senses, that got his heart pumping again and his lungs screaming for air. "I fell in love with you for good reason, and I intend to remain by your side, loving you." she smiled, wiping his tears with her thumb. "You can try as much as you wish to drive me away, but it will not work. You may succeed in convincing yourself that you are a lesser man, but you cannot do that with me. I know the man before me, and I know I will never leave you."

"Y/N..." the man sniffled, burying his face in her bosom, holding so tightly onto her petite body that he almost feared breaking her.

"There was once a time when you would only call me 'Sweety'." her honeyed giggle sounded so teasing, yet it didn't embarrass him. It served only to make him chuckle.

"There was also a time when I would only call you 'Chanel', if you recall." it almost felt as though they were both alive, and during their honey moon, without a single care in the world, and living a most carefree life.

"That does bring back some very amusing memories." Husk hummed in agreement, feeling melancholic, despite the intense joy surging through his body. Perhaps it was due to the unfamiliarity of this positive feeling, that he felt exhausted, or maybe from his excessive crying and whining. Regardless, he wanted nothing more than to cuddle up in his wife's arms, and never leave this blasted room ever again.

"Can you promise me something?" the man asked. "I am selfish still - Even more so as a demon. I am nothing but filth. I didn't deserve you then, and I deserve you even less now. Still... Now that you're here... I can't let you go again. So..."

Though he found himself eating his words, Y/N only smiled, laying down on the bed and taking him down with her, nestling him comfortably into her loving embrace. "Alastor said you purr like a kitten. I would love to hear that, tonight." she hummed, hearing his annoyed snarl. "And every night going forward, for as long as we may live in this afterlife we have." Husk's body became stiff, frozen with shock. "That is what you wanted me to promise, isn't it? That I will never leave you." he didn't respond. "It is within our wedding vows, silly. There is no way I would walk away, after I have just found my soulmate."

"... Even though I look like... This? And I am irredeemably addicted to gambling and drinking, even more so than before... And I have lost my soul to the Radio Demon? I am stuck doing his bidding for eternity... And..." Y/N only hugged him closer.

"No matter what, in sickness and in death, you and I will still be soulbound." his small body was softly trembling with emotion. "I've got you, my darling. Worry not about anything. I have got you." she remained silent for a little while. "But, Husk..." her voice sounded so distant, so... Melancholic. "Do you... Still like me? The way you did before?"

Startled by her words, Husker jolted up, looking at the pitiful visage of his lover. "What... What do you mean...?"

"My skin is pure white, with no colour, except for my make up. My eyes are black where they should be white, and the worst carmine red, where they should be embodying the aspect of nature. Even my hair looks to be an abnormal colour, and no matter how much I try to dye it, it will not retain its original shade." she gulped, looking away from him. "Any shred of normalcy that I have... Is so tiresome, so much work to keep up, the princessy facade that I used to have, that I used to love... That you used to love..." she sighed softly. "Yet even that completely dissolves as soon as I transform in the monstrous form that I fight so hard to keep veiled from the world."

"Y/N." he caressed her soft face, only to notice small particles of powder latching onto his fur. "I'm a fucking furry mammal with wings. I look like a children's plush toy or somethin'. Meanwhile, you look as doll-like as always, and you're afraid I wouldn't like you anymore? How silly." he sighed, leaning to place a kiss on her forehead. For a few seconds, he stopped to ponder over a rather bold move, and in a split second, he retrieved a wooden box from under his bed. "This is my secret. Nobody has to know about this." he spoke, a rosy tint on his cheeks. "Open it."

Carefully, the girl did as instructed, revealing the content of the box. A bunch of letters were preserved there, all of them neatly placed and handwritten with black ink. "Husk..." Y/N felt the air in her lungs dissipating, as she realised all those letters were recreating the exchange of love words from their time alive. "H-How...?"

"I have all our letters memorised." he chuckled lightly. "I... Needed some way of keeping you close... Of remembering you. I am shit at drawing, but I have a good enough memory... So this was the only way of preserving what we had."

"It's been so long... And yet, you... You still remember... All of it? There must be tens, if not, hundreds of them... How...?" the girl was flabbergast, yet melting completely.

"I read them every night before sleep, when alive, and I read them every night now also." those precious teardrop diamonds caressing her cheeks falling down so gracefully.

𝐼 𝓃𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓀𝓃𝑒𝓌 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓅𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓈; 𝐼 𝒹𝒾𝒹𝓃’𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂𝓈 𝒸𝒶𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝑒; 𝐼 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹𝓃’𝓉 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝒷𝑒𝓁𝒾𝑒𝓋𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒, 𝒰𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓁 𝐼 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝓂𝑒𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊.

His usual raspy voice sounded so romantic as he recited the love poem he wrote to her. A voice that he only reserved for her. A voice that only she would ever know.

𝐸𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎 𝒹𝒶𝓎 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒𝓈 𝓂𝑒 𝒶 𝓉𝒽𝓇𝒾𝓁𝓁; 𝒜𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝓎 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓇𝒾𝒸𝒽𝓁𝓎 𝒻𝓊𝓁𝒻𝒾𝓁𝓁. 𝐼'𝓂 𝒶 𝒻𝑜𝑜𝓁 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓇𝓂𝓈; 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒷𝑒𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝒾𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝒶𝓇𝓂𝓈; 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓂𝑒; 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑒 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁.

A love so pure and true, bottomless and without boundaries; Husker himself forgot just how endless his emotions could run. He thought himself jaded and cold, having lost his own heart, the second he lost her... Yet now... Perhaps it wasn't as bad as he first thought. Perhaps... Even someone like himself deserves some kind of redemption.

𝐻𝑜𝓁𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒽𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓂𝓈 𝓂𝓎 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝒾𝓉𝓈 𝒸𝑜𝓇𝑒. 𝐼𝓉’𝓈 𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝒾𝓂𝒶𝑔𝒾𝓃𝑒 𝐻𝑜𝓌 𝐼 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝑒.

Without her, he wasn't whole. Without her, he is not himself. Without her, he is empty. Without her, his whole life falls apart. Without her, he is nothing but a worthless deadbeat.

𝒥𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓁𝑜𝑜𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒢𝒾𝓋𝑒𝓈 𝓂𝑒 𝒶 𝓉𝒽𝓇𝒾𝓁𝓁. 𝐼 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓃𝑜𝓌, 𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁.

But now, he is not alone anymore - Well, perhaps he never was to begin with, considering he still had Angel and Charlie, to some extent, yet nothing can compare to sweet Y/N's existence by his side. Nothing can heal his aching soul, or revert the damage he did to himself throughout life and afterlife, the way her love for him did.

♡ ~𝓘 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾, 𝓶𝔂 𝓼𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓟𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓮𝓼𝓼~♡

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Could i request yandere sebastian, claude, and ash with floyd from twst reader? They look the same in human and merform and has the same personality.

I'll do two 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Floyd Leech Reader | Yandere Black Butler

From another world and an eel-mer person, you’re never one for abiding by the rules. Fun is what you’re after and what you find fun includes man-handling the ones you’re pointed to. Which happens to work for you in the slums of London where plenty of people need squeezing. Luckily you’re twin, the talker, has the pills that allow you both to keep your human appearances….for now. The best thing to do is stay where the fun is considering they also happen to have the mysterious ingredients needed to keep you and your brother walking: 

Sebastian Michaelis

“Ayyy! So you’re the one they want me to squeeze? This is gonna be fun!”

While ultimately you’re no match for the demon butler

But you certainly give him a run for his money

Magic-powered eels aren’t exactly his typical foe

Nor do his opponents stop mid-fight to whine about being bored

“Ugh, I wanna go for a swim. This is boring!”

“I can make things more interesting for you if you like.”

“Eh?! Doubt it Sharky. You’re not fun to play with.”

Once he realizes that you’re becoming the only thing on his mind 

He can only wish to appease your ever-changing moods

Hoping that you’ll give him the time of day

Which unfortunately means stopping whatever work he’s doing to ‘play’ with you

When you nonchalantly let it slip or reveal your eel-mer form he’s already thinking of ways to lock you up in a tank

The only problem is your undetermined mood

And your twin….that’s oddly reminiscent of himself

Who seemingly has it out for him with that stupid smile always on his face

He hopes that’s just their typical expression and not a cocky grin

Otherwise, there are plenty of circuses that’ll want a mermaid or even better a mermaid corpse

“I hope we can get along in the near future. After all, it’d be for (Y/n)’s best interest.”

Ash Landers

“Stop! Chasing me!”

“Come on! Come on! Don’t be scared! I just want to squeeze ya!”

“You broke that man’s spine!”

Love and crippling fear is a thin line for Ash

With his warped view of humans, he sees you as a…work in progress

You’re not human, 

you intentionally bite others without knowing where they’ve been

And delight in hurting others 

Granted if he points you in the right direction you can be somewhat helpful

“Nah I don’t wanna squeeze ‘em anymore.”

“But you said you would!”

To him, you’re just so frustrating 

But he can do it

You're rehabilitation is going to make all the pain worth it

He’s going to have an even bigger problem when your twin gets in his way

“Blleeeegh!!!”

“They said they're not all that interested in helping you at the moment.”

“What!? But they just told me to-”

“They. Are. Not. Interested.” 

Oh he’s going to love cleansing this world of such a nosy twin

[helluvaloverx3]

nsfw twt links for johnny “slaughter” sawyer

A/N: if the link doesn’t work USUALLY if you sign in into twt in the link it works, just a heads up.

1

the way johnny would use your body as his own personal pussy-selve. his hands gripping your waist hard enough to leave bruises, using his strength to drag your pussy up and down his cock. his rugged couch in his shack creaking under the weight of his pounding, threatening to break under the pressure.

“Keep your noise down, don’t want Nancy and em’ hearin’ us, do we?”

2

now that you’ve grown accustom to the routine— him coming home from a ‘hunt’ and you’re done with your chores— it was time for you to please his cock. His hand wrapping around your hair and forcing you to bounce on his length, whether it hurt or not. His other hand is too busy playing with your tit as you bounced, his eyes lingering on the jiggling fat of your ass slamming on his abdomen.

“there ya go, baby girl— fuckkk— keep doin’ ya you’re doin’… if ya know that’s best for you.”

3

in the past, when he first caught you hiding in his shack while the rest of the family chased your friends, he had better plans in mind for you. After all, the way you arched and backed your ass up on his cock was well enough information to tell him you were enjoying every inch of him. his hands tugged at the rope as he pounding into you from behind. he liked how loud were moaning, too bad your friends were having a bad time…

“Heh, who know you’d be such a good slut? I’d imagine chu’ would have fought against the ropes… I’m keepin’ you~”

4

do i need to elaborate? he’s obsessed with having power over you. he already has your lipstick smeared all over his lips and cheeks from making out and grinding through your clothes on his couch… but it doesn’t stop him from pushing you down on it, half your body bouncing on the cushions and under his thighs, pinning you in place. his cock casts a shadow on your face, you stick your tongue out for him. a grin spreads across his face as his slaps his length against your tongue, stroking it against your lips…

“good girl, keep your mouth open for me, fuckin’— baby— mmm…”

5

oh… but when you finally helped kill someone with johnny? ooo, that night was different. his hands grip your ass cheeks as you lay on your stomach. that shit-eating grin lined his face, reminiscing on how you jumped in and actually killed someone that tried to hurt him… you helped. you helped provide for the family, his mother accepts you now. everything was okay now. he goes lower and his big, broad hands grip your hips pulling you close as his tongue pushes between your thighs. his tongue was relentless— he pulls back and cuddles your hips, leaving kisses along your skin.

“sweetheart, baby, i’m so lucky to have you… you’re mine…”

[ddejavvu]

eddie munson having a crush on you and just not having the embarrassment to hide it. he doesn’t even care if you don’t realise, does NOT stop him from treating you like an angel (or maybe a sweet little elf from his fantasy games). WILL write you dumb little notes bc his older, now graduated, hellfire friends told him girls like that mushy shit. he once saw one of em smooch their gf on the back of the head and now awaits any opportunity where it’s socially acceptable (or passable bc cmon this guy doesn’t get a lot of social cues) to do it to u too

"Hi pretty girl," He croons, eyes alight with adoration as he leans against your locker, "Biology next?"

"Yeah," You nod jovially, "Don't you have to get to math?"

"I'm always late," He chuckles, plucking the books that you're gathering out of your arms and bundling them in his, "C'mon, I'll walk you."

"Thanks, Eddie." You grin, and it must have some divine cosmic power, because Eddie swears it shoots a beam of light into his chest that explodes throughout his entire body. He can feel it spreading through his limbs and flushing his cheeks as he carefully hooks his arm through your own, keeping your books tight to his chest with the other.

"Chivalrous," You glance down at your interlocked arms and giggle, "Which way to biology, sir?"

"Long way," He responds, his tone reminiscent of a dapper english nobleman as he leads you out the doors of the school, "We've lots to talk about today, m'lady."

"Oh? And what might that be, sir?" You barely suppress a giggle at his antics, letting him lead you around the back of the school to where your class is at the front. It takes less than a minute to find the inside door, but Eddie likes taking his time with you.

"I must know," He continues in his terrible accent, hand stuffed into his pocket. You don't notice him slip a sheet of paper under the cover of your biology textbook, "Would you like to watch Sixteen Candles or Grease tonight, m'lady?"

"Sixteen Candles," You gush, tightening your grip on him and pulling him closer to your side. It reignites the blush on his face and he relishes in the body heat you share with him.

"Your wish is my command," He stops outside of your classroom, carefully passing your heap of books over to you. Before you can part ways he untangles your arms, keeping your hand in his to press a kiss to the smooth skin of the back, "I'll see you after class, m'lady."

"I'll yearn for your presence, good sir," You sigh dramatically, backing into your classroom with your armful of books, "Don't be late!"

You're certain you hear someone in the back of the class mutter 'freak', and even though it's not aimed at you, it makes you bristle. You sit at your seat with a soft huff, flipping through your textbook to chapter seven. As you do, a sheet of paper is misplaced, and on the top is Eddie's signature, scratchy handwriting.

Robin said there's a pop quiz today on chapter seven. i got the answers from her here :) - the man of your dreams

True to his word, there's a list of numbered terms on the page. You scan them once, twice, thrice, until you're confident you know their order, and they play like a mantra in your head. Then you notice another pen stroke at the bottom of the page, P.S, it reads, I knew you'd choose Sixteen Candles ;)

[ellaa-writes]

Good Dög

authors note: Part 2, part 1 here. In the same Universe as The Beast Within series. Can't wait to expanded the world more. But anyways, enjoy! :) (wow did not notice i reached 200 followers!)

summary: His favourite words include; down boy, good dog, heel, fetch and his most favourite, get 'em. Well trained, and listens good. Loyal through and through. Always striving to be the absolute best. Ready to attack at all times, always on guard. Loves discipline, either giving or receiving. Working for a criminal mastermind, lurking in the shadows. You both trying not to be seen or noticed but after one unlucky night, all you both can see are the ghosts. He invades your life, if you both like it or not.

tags: Alternative Universe. A/b/o dynamics. Female reader. Lots of trauma in this one. Mentions of a dead body. Mentions of weapons, self defense. Reader has a panic attack. Simon saves the day once again. Slightly stalking Simon. not proof read

Two weeks passed since that fateful night at the corner store. Your days were filled with nightmares, and those eyes and that voice were always there to save you. Too pull you back into the light, always waking up with your heart pounding.

The police realeased your belonging back to you, you didn't bother telling anyone. If you did they would just urge you to seek out help, to talk to someone. But you can't afford that right now, you were already overworking yourself trying to save up enough money to move out of this hell hole.

Two weeks and not a word from him, Simon. You laid awake most mornings and nights, wondering what he was doing and if he thought about you to.

You felt silly for thinking that, sure Beta and Alpha relationships were common. Hell your parents were in a Beta/Alpha relationship. But you always felt unworthy, never meeting someone that sparked your interest as much as that Alpha did.

You had a few days off, only because the law required it. But if it was up to your employer you would have been working today.

You decided to get out of your apartment, to go for a walk, to try and not thinking about the cold steel on your throat and that evil smile. Anytime it crept into your mind you would wipe it away. Shove it back down with all the other shit you refused to face.

It was a beautiful day in the city, lucky for you it was a weekend. People littered the streets, groups walking together and chatting. The restaurants had their patios open, only if you had friends you thought. You'd be out there, drinking your fancy drink, eating your fancy food and smiling and laughing. Reminiscing about the good ol' days, but you had none of that. Instead you watched from a far, wishing that one day you'd wake up in a new body, new life.

But that never got you far. You've always been a keep your head down and don't stay for long type of gal. Having been alone in this world for longer than you remember not being.

You lost your mother young, and your dad left all together. Not wanting to raise a child by himself, being a single widowed father. Instead he forgot about you and met someone else. Started a new family, one where you weren't in the picture.

Living in foster care after foster care, until your turned of age and was pushed out into this unforgiving world.

You found yourself staring at the people, laughing and enjoying their time. You were staring for too long, sometimes lost in your own world. Taking your eyes off the people out on the patio, you began casing things out.

Since the accident, you've been on edge more. Keeping a small pocket knife on you at all time, and a can of bear mace. As regular mace wouldn't take down a drugged up Alpha.

As you were looking around you noticed something, or someone. The eyes that haunted your dreams, staring at you from across the street. The same eyes and voice from the corner store.

It couldn't be, you must be imagining it. That feeling of uneasiness creeping up from spine, your brain telling you to run. So you did, you spun around and decided this was a bad idea. Leaving your apartment was stupid. Mentally beating yourself up as you sped walked down the block. Trying to get as much distance between you and those eyes.

They didn't scare you, not intentionally. But you were seeing things, they weren't real. Taking a short cut through the back alley, not wanting to waste anymore time. You were too much in your own head, speeding down the desolate alley, not noticing the fast approaching footsteps behind you.

All you felt was the hands grabbing your arm, and in an instant you were spun around. Your bear mace in hand ready to spray at the intruder. But before you could it was knocked out of your hand. Flying into the brick wall beside you.

And there he was, Simon. It was real, you did see him. "You could kill someone like that." you snapped at him. Picking up your now busted can of bear spray. Hoping you can get another one soon. "Plan on using that on anyone?" he asked. His voice just as husky as the first time you heard it. Your heart skipped a beat, holding in the breath you just took, your core getting tingly.

"Well not anymore." you huffed, shoving the broken can into your bag. "Had anymore run ins?" he asked, noticing the small knife next to the can. "No." you were shuffling on your feet. Not wanting to be here anymore. "Just precaution." you explained.

You hated the way he was looking at you, his head tilted. He was judging you, noticing things about you that even you didn't.

The tenseness in your body, the way you were constantly looking around you, how you held your bag tight to your body. Your quick movements and that look in your eyes. The one he knew so well, the same look he'd have often.

You looked like a lost doe, eyes frantic and legs wobbly. He pitied you, knowing the inner battle raging on inside of you. One that he wish he could take away.

"How have ya been holdn' up?" he asked. Stupid question he thought. He knew from just looking at you, that if a big gust of wind were to come you'd crumble like a dry leaf in autumn.

"I uhhh-" you didn't know what to say. Do you lie to him now? "I'm getting by." you replied. Knowing that didn't fully answer his question.

You were running, not psychically but mentally. Your movements becoming more frantic, your eyes wide with fear, the lost doe cornered and trying to find a way out.

Simon knew this, as he felt it often. He did the only thing he could think of, and he wasn't sure if it was even going to work. He purred, he never purred before. Not even sure if he was doing the damn thing right, but it was pure Alpha instinct. A female in stress can sore the nose, the smell permeating far. Letting everyone know, it was old basic biology, things have evolved since then.

The purr was deep and low, sounding like a bike engine off in the distance. As he slowly stepped closer to you, making sure his shoulder were laxed and his scent enclosing around you like a bubble.

You didn't know what was happening, you felt the tightness in your chest. You began struggling to breath, wanting to dive into the garbage bin and hide. To scream, cry, kick and bite. All these emotions coursing through your body, you hands shaking. Trying to grip onto your arms, hugging yourself tight. Rubbing you neck against your shoulder. Trying anything to make this feeling go away.

Simon wrapped you in his arms, pushing your head into his chest. That's when you finally heard it, the low purring coming from it. It soothed you, making you feel like a pup being cradled by its father.

He held you tight to his chest, enclosing both of you in a bubble of his scent. Blocking out all other noise and smells. His juvenile attempt at consoling you were working, you began sucking in even and deep breaths. The tightness in your chest and back relaxing, you unwrapped your arms from yourself and wrapped them around Simon.

If you were anyone else and this was any other moment he'd he ripping your limbs off. But it was you.

The nights he'd spend wide awake, thinking about you. Everytime he closed his eyes he'd see your dead lifeless body, your dead soulless eyes staring back up at him. He couldn't sleep the first time, he had to make sure you were alright. Sneaking into a vacant apartment across the street, just to make sure she was alright, he told himself.

But it was nightly, then daily. Ignoring his own work to watch night and day. Making sure nothing could or would happen to you. He didn't know what got into himself, why he had these strong feelings towards you. What made you so special.

What made you different from the rest, you haunted him night and night out. And you were alive, so why does he keep seeing your dead body everywhere he turns.

His boss noticed he'd been quiter than normal, which is saying a lot for him. A conversation he had while sitting in his bosses office one night. He use to hate the man, seeing him as enemy number one. Making it his dying mission to take him down, to take him out.

But when shit hit the fan, and Simon was sent to prison. His years of decidated and hard work went down the drain, along with his life. He was a walking reminder, the people he considered close some even close enough to be family, all cut him off. Discarding him like he was yesterday's trash.

The man across from him in the office, sitting on the stiff leather chair. The man that went by König, he was the only one that was their for him. When he was realeased from prison, he was their at the gate. Leaning up against a black sports car. Simon thought he was dead, everyone at least still thinks he is.

He gave Simon an offer, a too good to be true offer. Turning it down, vowing to never cross that line. To go over to the other side. But after finding out that no one gave a shit, that him going to prison didn't change anything. Him taking the fall and paying the price. Just to have them all act like he never existed. So he didn't.

Death by fire, he found it fitting. He felt like his whole existence was flawed, the moment his mother became knocked up with him. A bastard growing in her belly. She left him like the rest did.

But what made you so special, it was a question that he didn't know if he'd ever get an answer to.

For two whole weeks he couldn't shake you. Lying too himself that he wasn't stalking you, that when you were gone for work, that he wasn't breaking into your place. To make sure the windows were sealed and the smoker detector wasn't low on batteries. He even fixed the buzzing from your fridge, something you did notice but chalked it up to old appliances.

If he knew any better he'd say he was infatuated with you.

With you still wrapped in his arms he brought you back to your apartment. Using your key to unlock your door, carrying you into your bedroom. Setting you down and wrapping you up. "I'll be back." he told you. Leaving for only a moment, coming back with a bag of hot food.

It was late in the night when he finally left. You were tucked into bed, everything locked and secured. He didn't like the idea of leaving you alone, but he'd be right cross the street. Having rented out the space after squatting in it for a few days. Paying for two rents wasn't ideal, but in his mind it was only tempory.

You guys talked for hours, you telling him about your past in foster care. How you saved up everything you could to move here and get this place. Only for you to now do the same so you could get out.

You told him about your dream to live out on the country side, to live a small village. To have a farm, yellow house and maybe a few pups running around. But how that dream seemed to slip away faster and faster everyday.

As he settled into postion, on the weathered chair at the window. Watching people flow in and out of the street below. His mind asked the same question it always did when he found himself in this spot. Why you? What was so special about you. But now he also thought about how he wanted to give you, your dream.

The yellow house, the farm to look after and of course the one thing he never would have wanted or thought of wanting....pups.

[lullabyes22-blog]

Snippet - Puppy Love - Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

Sevika narrates a sad story...

tw: violence, gore, gang warfare

Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

Snippet:

"You have your city. Powder has no place in it. Let her have a normal life. In Piltover, with me."

Sevika stares a moment before a laugh spangles out. It's like rich, smoky music. In it, Vi hears echoes of a girlhood lost. She hears other things too. Disbelief, disdain. And the shock of epiphany, as if Sevika finally understands that Vi and Powder aren't simply sisters, but strangers to each other. Different species.

To Vi, Zaun is a black maw. To Powder, it is a cradle.

"A normal life?" Sevika repeats, when she can breathe without gulping. "With you? Do you even know what that means? Jinx would be a fucking fugitive. They'd throw her in the clink."

"I'd keep her safe! Get her across the sea." Vi's eyes glaze wetly. "We'd run away. Together."

"Yeah? Where would you go?"

"Wherever. It doesn't matter. Someplace warm. An island in Tereshni. With sun and sand. Or a fishing lodge in Bilgewater. Anything, as long as it's not here. She can paint, or build model ships, or—"

"You think it's that easy? Just pick up and start over?" Sevika's eyes are so dark the pupil and iris are indistinguishable. "What do you think she is, a fucking doll? Put her someplace new, and bam! She's fixed." She shakes her head. "Your sister's fucked beyond repair, Vi. There's no place for her anywhere. Except Zaun. Because our city gives her what she needs." She taps her temple. "Someplace to put all that chaos."

"That's not true! She doesn't have to be a monst—"

Vi breaks off, horrorstruck. She's spoken the forbidden truth. Her sister is a monster.

Just like Silco.

Sevika's eyes gleam cruelly. "Monster? That she is. No use making her into something else." Her chin tips. "Come to think, there was a kid who tried. After Silco took over the Drop, he'd hang around. Try to catch Jinx whenever she was alone. He'd show her toys he'd tinkered with. She'd show him her inventions. They'd be happy as clams." The reminiscence curdles into cynicism. "But whenever Silco showed up, Jinx clammed right up. Wouldn't leave his side. It didn't matter what the boy did or said. He might as well have been a pebble on the street. Something to make way for the man of the hour."

Realization judders through Vi.

"Ekko," she says.

"Yeah, that's right." Sevika snaps her fingers. "Ekko. The little man at Benzo's shop. He and Jinx had a thing, didn't they? Puppy love. I remember how they'd be off in the corner, doodling together. Always a few inches apart. Then he'd whisper something in her ear, and she’d light up like a birthday candle." A beat. "She sure wasn't smiling by the end. Neither was he."

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, right. You were in the slammer."  A faux-pitying sneer, before she sobers. "After Jinx came to live with Silco, he needed someone who could fine-tune her... talents. Take her knack for guns, and make it deadly. But the teachers he brought in, they couldn't handle her. Too scared. Too impatient. One of 'em went apeshit on her. Slapped her upside the head a couple times. She ended up with a busted lip. Silco found out, and, well. It's never wise to lay a hand on what's his."

Her once-over takes in the topography of Vi's bruised flesh. Vi braces for fresh mockery. It doesn't come. Sevika's features remain neutral; a look that's seen it all before.

"After the crew dumped the fucker's body," she goes on, "we decided to look closer to home. Found ourselves a local tinkerer. Old Giz, down at the Abattoir. Fine gunsmith. He'd done business with Silco before. Had the smarts and the patience to deal with a powderkeg like Jinx. Every week, he'd take her out to the scrapyards. Show her how to dismantle a firearm. How to build it back up from scratch. She gave him plenty of lip. Called him Geezer and made fun of his gimp. But she listened. Learned. Soon, she was building her own guns. Models with unique designs. Ones that made Giz's creations look like junk. Silco was real impressed. So were the rest of us. Until..." Sevika's jaw hardens. "Turns out, Giz was too much of a softie for his own good. Silco had been paying him a premium to give Jinx private lessons. But Giz, he'd turned his shop into a bona fide daycare. He let Ekko drop in whenever the kid pleased. Didn't mind having him underfoot, either. Boy had a way with tools. He'd sit and work with Jinx, and they'd chatter non-stop. Sometimes, they'd be too busy playing to work. Giz didn't mind.  The way he saw it, the kids deserved to be kids."

Vi's throat works. "And—Silco found out."

"What can I say? He's a man who expects a bang for his buck. When he heard Giz had been letting Ekko hang around, he was none too happy. Giz had designed the security rigging at the Drop. And he knew where we stored the Shimmer.  One slip-up, and our headquarters would be compromised. Silco was pissed. But he didn't think Ekko was trouble. So he let it slide. Told Giz not to make the same mistake twice." Her lips pull in tight. "Then Giz did something even stupider."

"What?"

"He left the schematics of the Drop's security at his workshop. Ekko, the little shit, found 'em. Took a good long look. Made his own copies.  This was right around the time Jinx stopped taking her lessons with Giz. I don't know why. Maybe she got tired of his chatter. Maybe she found a better way to blow off steam. Whatever the case, Ekko didn't like it. He got it into his head that something fishy was going on. That maybe... Silco was hurting Jinx. He went from playing with her to pestering her. I'd see them sometimes on the rooftops. He'd be tugging her arm. Trying to get her to run away with him. But she wouldn't listen. Everytime Ekko pushed, she'd push back twice as hard. Eventually, he gave up." A beat. "Or so we thought."

A foreboding chill creeps in. "What happened?"

Sevika's eyes flick left and right, before resettling on Vi. "Ekko staged an... intervention. He got a bunch of brats from the Lanes together. They memorized the security checkpoints at the Last Drop. Then they decided to break inside, torch the Shimmer storehouse, and make a run for it—with Jinx in tow." She shakes her head. "The moron. I warned him to stay away. But he was gung-ho. Only fourteen, and Jinx was the moon to his sky. So, he and his gang—they snuck in at midday. Right when the guards changed shifts."

Vi's mind reels. She knows what comes next.

"It was a massacre. Jinx knew they were coming. Don't know how, exactly, but she knew. She went and told Silco. I remember them both in the barroom the night before. Him sitting at the counter. Her standing by his shoulder. Going on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. They had the same look. Same set to the mouth. The same fucking eye."  Sevika's features shade into grimness. "The next day, Ekko and his gang snuck in. One of them stepped on a trigger wire. Set off a silent alarm. When they entered Silco's office, our guards were waiting. The punks didn't have a chance. Most were scrappers with switchblades and flashbangs. Silco's crew were trained militia.  And they'd been armed with the brand-new guns Jinx had designed. I still remember those babies. The model was similar to a High Standard 10 riot gun. Generates a muzzle velocity of 625 feet per second. Enough to blast through an armored vehicle—or blow a man's guts across the room."

Vi's skin feels two sizes too small. She remembers the way Powder used to hold the toy guns at the old Arcade. The way she'd cock her elbow and squint down the barrel, her tongue peeking from the corner of her mouth.

Just a kid.

And Silco turned her into a killer.

"How many…?" she whispers. "How many kids were with Ekko?"

"Six. All gangly brats. We had 'em rounded up in seconds. Then Silco ordered 'em dragged outside. There, as the Lanes watched, our men popped 'em, one by one, like fish in a barrel. Ekko got the ringside view. Held Silco's attention till the very end. Till his last little friend went belly-up, and his skull split like a melon. Ekko started crying. But Silco didn't want tears. He wanted to send a message. The old days of turf wars were over. The thefts, the break-ins, the midnight raids. They were all gonna end. And the Lanes were gonna toe the line. Or else."

Vi swallows a reflux of bile. "Ekko was a good kid. He didn't deserve—"

"He and his pals were a bunch of uppercut morons. What'd he think would happen? He and Jinx would ride off into the sunset on a pair of unicorns?" Sevika’s lips peel back from her teeth. "All of it could've been avoided if he'd minded his own damn business. Left Jinx be, and respected Silco's rules. But no. He wanted to play the big damn hero. To take Jinx away from the one man who had the resources—the balls—to keep her safe."

"Ekko was trying to protect her!"

"Bullshit. He was trying to 'fix' her. Same as you. He thought she'd be someplace different, and click! All that faulty wiring would untangle itself. Like she was a clockwork toy that needed a new set of springs." Disgust grits itself into Sevika's features. "People aren't gears and levers, Vi. And the past doesn't wash off like dirt. Everything Jinx did at the Cannery—the blood, the bodies—was a consequence of her own goddamn choices. There's no undoing that. Or unmaking her. A monster is… as a monster does."

The dreary summation of life and death in the Lanes—a lesson of brutal math that Vi has known since she was knee-high—doesn't keep the boiling tears from her eyes. Vi sinks her teeth into her lower lip until the pain stills the impulse to cry.

Or scream.

"Ekko got the message," Sevika goes on. "So did Jinx. She watched the whole thing. Watched the kids fall, one by one. Watched Ekko break down crying. Watched his rescue mission turn into what it was. Just a bunch of punks running around half-cocked. By the end, Ekko was a mess. Splattered in his friends' guts, and shaking like a leaf. He kept looking to Jinx, hoping against hope she'd help. That she'd do something. Anything. But she never did. She just stood by Silco's side. Didn't cry. Didn't even flinch. After the bodies were hauled off, Ekko got locked up the basement. Silco planned to put his skills to use. Get the little rat to work for Zaun. But it didn't work out. After a week, the kid slipped loose."

"How?"

"Good question." Sevika tips a shoulder. "I suspect Jinx knows the answer."

"You think… she helped him escape?"

"Like I said. Puppy love. Maybe she cared. Or maybe she thought it'd be funny. A final Fuck You." Her laugh holds a note of marvel. "Point is—the kid scarpered. Doubt he got very far. Likely some charitable soul took him in. Likely Giz himself. We sent the crew to his shop, but Giz denied harboring fugitives. And Silco didn't want to kill the only gunsmith in the Lanes. He was ready to let Giz be. Except the old man had nearly cost us five-thousand Hexes of Shimmer. An example had to be made. Silco ordered me to take his right eye. So I did." A shrug, but her expression, for a moment, is oddly spooked. "You wanna know the funny thing? The old man didn't scream. Not once. He said he understood the risks, and was willing to pay the price. Afterward, he told me something else, too. Said he didn't blame Jinx. Told me she'd have been happier with Ekko, but she was safer with Silco. And if those are a girl's only two options, then fuck it. It's the world at fault, not her."

Her face clears, then closes like a door. "Maybe he had a point. The fact is, Jinx made her choice. She did the night she chose to tell Silco about Ekko's plans. She did when she watched those kids die without lifting a finger. She did when she let Ekko loose, and took her place by Silco's side. Your sister knows the score, Vi. Always pick the winning team. No matter how much it hurts. Because the world doesn't give a shit about your tears. It's not gonna hold your hand and kiss your boo-boos. It'll push you down and grind you under, and it'll do it with a smile. And if those are your odds, it's better to have a monster in your corner—and firepower in your hands—than to have a hero with nothing but a fucking wrench in his."

Vi has no comeback handy; her tongue is a desiccated stub.

She thinks of Ekko as a boy. Quick with a quip; quicker with a smile. A boy who'd lost his family, then lost whatever remained. Who'd witnessed a slaughter at Silco's hands. Who'd gone on, as a full-blown adult, to fight the monster with everything he had.

No matter how much it hurt.

"Winning team, huh?" Her throat is raw. "What about the people caught in the middle? Where's their victory?"

"Them's the breaks. The past is the past. There's only one direction. Forward."

Sevika's delivery is a smooth; her eyes are flint. Like a gambler who's all in. Vi wonders what feeds her stoicism. Wrong choices in the past, where she'd been forced to live with the consequences. Or right ones, and their bitter pay-off. Vi thinks of the woman's history. Her father, the Wharfside Devil. His business: bootlegging, brawling, murder. His fate: a life sentence in Stillwater. 

Sevika, Vi thinks, is the byproduct of her father's errors.

Just as Powder is the byproduct of Vi's.

[sea-of-dust]

Alva,Frederick,Edgar,Demi x Rock Vo. GN! Reader

Compared to the way you dress they would have never guessed you knew your way around a ballroom

N: I'm gonna keep thinking of acheron and black swans dances final frame. Also Frederick's new skin, that thing has a grip on me,poppin party,Céline Dion,Mustard service references

Warnings: mentions of drinking, might be ooc

Ugh, you and luca being friends is one thing, him noticing the hunter and saying "ez sweep" is another. Luca would tell you what to do against him you'd do it, he'd get pissed you two would do it everytime you see em. Strangely enough is that you've never seen Alva before and when you asked who the fabled "tall coat guy" luca would answer "litterally a tall coat guy"

As soon as you did see him however you knew why luca didn't want you to ever meet him. His cold gaze, the scar near his eye, the elegance he radiates. "Are you single?" "Excuse me?" Luca would know instantly if you met him when you come back like a children's cartoon protagonist that's just been kissed by their crush. "Wow..." he was mortified.

Luca does get a bit werided out when he thinks too much about you crushing on his teacher, that dosent stop him from giving you heads up tho. "There's a public map" you stop tuning your neck nearly snapping to see him "where? Can I perform? Is the tall coat guy gonna be there?" "Dunno" "I'll take it" So the most delulu person on earth (you/j) decided to perform under the deck of the ship, not paying much mind as you played songs you thought he'd like, trying not to make direct eye contact with this seemingly uninterested man, too focused on his conversation with the clerk. You thought maybe he had tuned you out after the first few chords, until the next match with him where he hummed. A humming a little too similar to the lyrics you sang. While kiting him you could barely believe your ears, you had to have Demi fact check you.

A few more performances and a chair was all it took for him to begin to speak to you. "That voice of yours is wonderful" your eyes widen, looking up at him quickly, he smirks, reminiscing on the concert. "I'm normally not the type to like rock. I'm glad you're an acception" you froze, you could have sworn he could hear you internally scream or atleast see you blush as much as you did

He isn't very social but you've gotten the treat of seeing him smile, and not terror shock you as much. "You've gotten soft" "have I now?" In truth you went from being able to kite at least 3 ciphers to 2.5, he doesn't terror shock you but he makes up for it in actual shocks. Atleast he's friendly enough to show you where the dungeon is before poking you with the staff. There would also be the occasional soft look in his eyes eventually making a bit more physical contact with you. "You're so pretty" you re-wrap his bandages causally mummbling that out, he retracted his hand quickly. "Did I tie something too tight?" "No" you hold out your hand for his arm. "Do you really think im pretty" your eyes widen "I didn't think you heard me but yea, the way your eyes pierce into people is attractive" you blush embrassed you're rambling this much "atleast in my opinion" he looks away before placing his arm into your hand to continue wrapping, you continue on nervously wrapping them. He'd look at them later on in the match, thinking about what you said, it's too distracting for him to just not hear "you're pretty" over and over

He'd ask you out pretty awkwardly, because it would be straight to the point. "I love you, please consider me as a partner" "." He'd stand there like a brick and you would be to, out of pure shock your brain would have just exploded by then. "Sure-" brainfart of an answer, biggest regret of your life. Thank god he didn't seem to mind.

He likes comming out of his office just to see you out there practicing, you'd hear his foot steps and greet him with a smirk. "You've been in there for 15 hours I can't feel my hands" "I'm sure you're fine" "they feel like white noise" "so you feel them" "no" closing his eyes he'd listen to your careful fingers press on strings and strum, whenever he opened his eyes he always looked love struck so you try to block out his face from your mind, but the more you try to shut it out the more clear it gets. You had to stop looking at him when you practice

He'd notice if you've overused your voice during a match. Coughing, trying to relieve strain, pinching the front of your neck. He'd stop you mid kite and tell you about ways to relieve it. "Hopefully you like tea and honey." "?" "For your throat" "oh" he kisses your forehead. "I'll prepare some after this. Go decode for now" you'd have a higher chance of failing ciphers after that, Luca had to supervise. "He's so pretty..." "decode for him" easiest way to get you to lock in and to shut up about Alva

The only pet peeve he has with you is when you're both in a match and a survivor would say something along the lines of "I don't know how to get around this hunter" and you and luca would respond simultaneously "ez sweep" so he started finding loop holes, such as winking at you during kites, flirting with you if he found you first leaving the cipher bare, and just going after Luca first. He was no longer "ez sweep" to you two anymore, you had to tell a new survivor to "follow their gut!" For a while

He didn't care much for your rumors about being an aristocrat, if anything they're an afterthought, and an explanation on why you're able to causally name plants, and almost never use your hands when eating you'd eat fruits with a fork or a toothpick. This did come into play when you asked him to dance. Surely nothing it could be fine? He barely remembers how to do ballroom dance, so you went easy on him. It felt like a roller coaster. You could be able to tell he was embrassed everytime he almost stepped on your feet, the quick turns he wasn't ready for you'd catch his eyes widen. Somehow able to dip someone as tall as him you catch an exhausted smile on his face. "I should do this more often with you" he scoffs "maybe another time"

Ugh, as a musician he respects you knowing your talents after attending a show you did in the lobby, or just hearing it blast a few times but knowing your background you're gonna have to go the extra mile to even get him to associate with you. A person dressed like some local turning out to be an aristocrat, and their family respects that? Ridiculous you must be lying

He'd warm up to you slowly, he was annoyed he could hear you practice? Take these headphones. Then he couldn't hear the piano? Alright you'll change the time you do practice. He'd hate to admit it but when overwhelmed He'd purposely look for you while practicing, chaotic riffs like the ones you play would usually overwhelm him, but there's a difference when you practice, you're humming the lyrics softly while playing watered downed versions of certain bits, sometimes pleasing soft riffs. It's therapeutic, won't let you catch him listening though

That changes when you begin to date him. Now he's in the same room! "Im gonna pratice one i dont think youd like much" "I'm sure I can enjoy it regardless" you hum uncertainly hesitantly placing your fingers where they need to go, and begin to play, the melodies seeming uncertain of themselves as if shy. "With all the times I made mistakes infront of you I never expected you to be so considerate it hurts your performance" he sits closer to you "I'll be alright, play as you see fit regardless of me being in audience" "alright..." You play a bit hesitantly in the beginning, but pretty quickly you practice as usual, you sigh as you complete it. "That was too difficult" "do you want me to not be here when you practice?" You're not very sure how to answer that

He'd enter your room at night. "I know you're awake" "WOAH" you jolt back squinting your eyes to try and get a better look at him. "Why are you here at this hour?" "I got scared" "Sure bud" you embrace him, letting stiff arms return the favor. In truth he was kept awake by the thoughts of things couples usually do, sleeping in the same bed being one of them, imagining you there just wasn't going to cut it for him, to have you near him, to trust him enough to sleep in the same room as him let alone close to his chest, he felt at ease. You would wake up to his grip firmly around you or from him carassing your cheek or playing with your hair.

It feels werid when you two aren't in manor games together, you're like eatchothers lucky charms, he can't really handle if you're in too many games without him in a row. "I gotta get back soon Frederick might sleep on the piano again" Demi raises an eyebrow "he what?" "what if he stares so hard at my guitar it ends up full of sorrow" Demi's heard it all, she's heard of him evaporating, laying on couches, playing piano then sighing pausing and continuing to play a more loudly and harshly (according to Luca) "he thinks about alota things at once you know"

He does feel a bit strange when it comes to physical affection. Hugs and small kisses did feel a icky, when you do show him physical affection you'd try to keep it to a minimum accolading this, he judges you for that. Playing with his hair and stopping he looks up at you with narrowed eyes "what?" "Keep going" he grumbles. He'd start turning around to judge you if you dared to remove your hands from him. Sometimes even initiating, which would confuse and fluster the heck out of you. He does have his limits don't push them and he'll be fine.

He'd invite you to practice with him sometimes. It would always fluster the hell outta you but barely for him. "Are you sure?" You look around a bit frantically "I'm sure" "I'll get my gutair then" as soon as you sit down with him it usually goes with him beginning to play, you joining in after seeming to get the gist, you realize there was sheet music the entire time for you, say that you're "built diffrent" for just knowing what to play automatically "I'm just built like that" "Uh huh..." he disregards it, he knows you forget about the sheet music most of the time. Atleast he doesn't stay there for hours away from most people, that much anymore, now he spends atleast half of that practice session with you.

So to punish you for almost always never paying attention, he decided to make a song, no surprise he'd already think of making you a song, this was just an excuse for if you ever asked him why. "Do you mind if we practice again today" "you can't get enough of me can you" teasing him, you go with him hearing the unfamiliar song he began to play, you get behind him and begin to read the sheet music. "This one has alot of emotion to it" you continue to listen, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I think I got this" letting go of him, you play along with the emotional tone of the song. Test magically passed

You'd tease him with some song choices, letting him recognize the songs he wrote played on your gutair, or singing a lyric he just can't pass over for some reason "you haven't found everything you've been searching. Find it with me then we'll lose it and find it again" he blushes you could tell he was thinking too much on it. he turned away closing his eyes as you continued on singing, was your voice always this hypnotizing? Why are these chords so flustering now of all times? "Please stick to rock" "this is rock" "oh" you could barely hear that, getting closer to him you whisper in his ear "pleasantries-" "something I say to you, love" "so you know this" he tries to hide his flustered face. "The lyrics are pretty tame I'm surprised a song you've heard for a while now flustered you" you hug him kissing his cheek. You look foward to his reaction whenever you play songs like that near him, or just him paying too much attention to the lyrics and drifting into his imagination

Now imagine him finding out those you being an aristocrat rumors were real. You had him thinking you were normal until you ate a grape with a toothpick and knew how to tie his aggressively fancy bows. As soon as a partner dance came along you quite litterally swept him off his feet. A style of partner dance that was unique full of dramatic turns it almost felt like you were just dragging him along a bit, a weightless, graceful dance that would have been unexpected if you weren't accustomed to it. A dip is where you two make eye contact. "Did I tuker you out too much?" You smile uncertainly,him huffing to catch his breath, his mind racing with thoughts. "I'm fine" "would you like to do for another then?" "I'd rather not"

Ugh, pretty loud and he just hears the mumbles, he'll think it's incoherent metal, disrupts painting when you hear a sudden yell no matter how pretty it is

He dosent dislike you personally, after all you gave him your spare ear muffs when he brought this up to you. He becomes a good ally after that, you could go for a rescue and he'd be able to cover you. Those ear muffs come in handy, so handy that hunters try to take them. Unfortunately, you or him are always the first to yank them off or knock It out the hand of the hunter

He would slowly become apart of you Demi and Lucas crew. That one guy in a group that's never there but when he is it makes that day better, he's that guy. It gets so hype over there the hunter would turn their head wondering about the noise. "we got it guys!!" "YEA" "were getting a 4 escape!!" The hunters oprea singer

He'd grow super attached to you after you say something positive about his art. "Youve made this in a day?" "Yea?" "I find that hard to believe, the layering in this, the way they don't just lay ontop of eatchother but blend, not to mention accurate shadows" you take a pause dazed at the fine work. "It's beautiful" he doesn't speak, shocked that you knew the beauty and worth of his art something that most he met didn't understand, he fell for you hard over those comments, exactly why he shows you his pieces more often

You two would start dating rather quickly, you dropping signs the most aggressive way possible, causally holding hands when alone, sharing a cipher and really bad ideas "we should rescue luca" "no" "?" "He told me I should cut my canvas in half so I had four drawings instead of two" "...I mean in concept it's good but it might set ya off" "it already did" "after half then?" "Yea" thankfully Demi swooped in

You do try to sit down and paint with him. It was like a toddler following along a Bob Ross tutorial, but atleast Bob didn't stare at your painting for long periods of time. "Are you familiar with aristocrats?" "Yea?" He narrows his eyes "are you one?" "Are my drawings that bad?" "No these strokes are just ones nobility usually do" "crazy" he knew you were an aristocrat, and one that appreciated his art is even better. "Consider me your biggest fan in the art world" he giggles going back to his piece

He's run out of paintings during a match? Suddenly this isn't a match it's a rock show. "Find something in the item boxes nearby I'll distract them for you" distract them the loudest way possible how did you even bring an amp to a match?! "Why do you keep playing poppin party songs" "1) they're loud enough to cover the sound of us moving 2) they're more focused on me, the source of the music and 3) if you actually noticed" you point at Joseph "I found out he in particular has a real liking for Arisa he's not just gonna ignore her out of all people" Sure enough a familiar photographer appeared in the distance. "You mind opening the exit gate"

Despite him being sarcastic as hell he tries to sing along when you practice or perform. "You look like someone just sucked the life outta you" "how do you do this on the regular?" "Vocal practice wait till you have to scream in matches to save people" "." This stuff isn't for him but listening to you do it sounds alot better, and its nice to hum. You've caught him humming more times than you can count, and whenever you tell him he gets embrassed. "It's cute tho" "I'm sure the hunter could catch us if I continued" "They're across the map"

He hates the way you kiss whenever you're rushing somewhere. You do this thing he calls the entertainer's peck. Where you'd wave or acknowledge him, kiss his cheek and continue walking. He hates it because of how it lingers, you can't just take his hand to turn him toward you only to kiss him on the cheek and leave to a concert area or to decode. You're making him lose focus, one of those kisses that make you want another. You'd have him mummbling like a fool, espically if he could chase after you he'd give you his own peck, which led to the part he hated the most, the soft "I'll cherish this" expression on your face when you look back at him. He's giving you another until you stop looking at him like that!

He knew you were an aristocrat and he was thankful for it there was a higher chance you realized his talents. Hed ask you to dance first. "Shall we dance?" "Sure" informal way of accepting but formal style of dance. The way you both were able to be in sync no matter what move you threw at him, it turned out to be more of a test of skill than a friendly dance, as soon as you dipped him you could see all of the energy he lost hit him at once as he could barely keep himself up, you giggled at his predicament. "We should do this more often, you're alot more used to this than I thought" "we should, maybe I could try tossing you" his face straightens "nevermind"

Party! She's litterally with you all the time, with Luca as a carry on. You three would basically host rock concerts in the manor. You'd sing about freedom and living on, who cares for the noise complaint invest in ear plugs!!

You'd always be with her or luca during the games, though you do prefer Demi a bit more, she dosent laugh so hard it alerts the hunter. She's also more aware than Luca making running away alot easier. Though after games you prefer Luca, Luca doesn't cling to you so much you have to sleep in the same bed as him to make him feel better, he just calls you his hero

Does help when you're rescuing her, Naiad could be dashing toward you yet all be stopped by a simple ear spliting shreak from you, you had her seeing double. "I didn't know you could also do metal" "it's useful with the amount of commissions I get"

She'd randomly get an idea to try and wing along while you play. "I got it I got it" reasuring herself you begin to play familiar chords as she opens her mouth you change them to diffrent ones "I DONT KNOW THE LYRICS TO TEAR DROPS" "you got it!" She indeed barely had it, barely able to say of the lyrics correctly. Her revenge? "You mind playing this" she shows you probably the most confusing sheet music you've seen in your career a Frederick special if you will. "Alright-" and so the manor wondered what happened to the music they randomly heard when passing your room for the next 2 days

She'd fall asleep If you two weren't summoned for a round that day leaving you and her alone to explore the manor or practice guitar. People would come and go to you twos makeshift karoke. Espically Norton apparently. "IT WAS LOST LONG AGO BUT ITS ALL COMMING BACK TO ME" those two would sing with their hearts out the whole manor could tell you the lyrics by heart. You could play a cord to a song she'd accidently "ITS ALL COMMING BACK TO ME" "." "That wasn't the right song?" "No"

Almost scream royality. Random bug? "AHHHHHH" small spoke? "AUHHHHHHH" you and luca pretending to be possessing eatchothers bodies "NOOOOOO" surprisingly she doesn't scream like this when a giant nun lady jumps at her, except when she did and found out why you're scream royality. "So how'd ya get chaired?" "Rescue me first" "you're way too far from half" she pouts "so I tried screaming to burst her ear drums like you do..." "and?" "And she looked me straight in the eyes, then the cat screamed louder I swear it was like one of yours and then I was here" ".pft" "not cool!"

She gets tipsy during rounds, leading to some fun confessions of love. "Y/n...I love youu" she leans onto you, puckered lips to an exaggerated degree. "I gotta decode Demi" sighing you let her cling onto you tighter "did any person tell you how cute you are? Am I the first?" "You aren't" she gasps dramatically "reallllyyyy?" "Yea, a barmaid got to me before you" she blows a raspberry

She leads you away for rounds, asking for help setting up a kiting area. "Thanks for the help" she lands a kiss on your cheek. "Demi" "what?" "I appreciate it but Luca might vomit over this again" "he forced himself to" she wraps her arms around your waist, leaning in to be closer to you "he'll be fine" he wasn't fine. "You two really gotta get a room" "wadya mean?" "You keep looking with these lovey dovey eyes, were all on the same cipher and that poor guys probably single handedly evading that rock guy. "Arent they the same person" "yea they both got that same scar" "now you're tag teaming me?" "Yea" you both make the same look.

If she were ever to escape the hunter injured she'll run to you near instantly. "I think you should kiss me and all my injuries will heal" "that's not how it works Demi" you continue your healing "you're so warm..." "I know" "hehe" you kiss her forehead, finishing up. "I'm still injured" she dramatically places her hand on her forehead, both of you hearing a cipher being popped. "Oh look you're at full health" she sighs "worth a shot"

You being an aristocrat? She didn't care much but it did affect how you did certain things, and explained why you knew how to take care of plants,paint, and piano...barely the gutairs more fitting. When you asked her to dance, she got flustered, such a formal request, but comming from you it should have been a bit obvious it was comming. She didn't expect how graceful you were, it felt like an instructor dancing with their student for a test, the turns focused eyes turning to soft looks whenever you made eye contact with her. It was a flustering the hell outta of her she couldn't think for more than two secounds with you suddenly invading her thoughts with the shift in demeanor. When she took the lead by the end and dipped you, you seemed to snap out of it. "You're really good at improv" "how sweet of you" she huffs bringing you up to stand. "Would you like to dance again later?" "You sound like an old noble"

[cluelessbees]

I feel like a lot of people always talk about how Will should’ve stopped El or interfered more with everything that was happening but honestly? I think the way Will treats El is good.

He like advises her on what to do but doesn’t push. He tells her like hey mikes not gonna like that you’re lying but doesn’t just that choice from her. And if she messes up it’s normal and he’s there to help her get back up. He doesn’t baby her and he lets her make her own decisions because he knows she’s capable of it. And if there’s consequences he knows she can learn and grow from it, and he’ll be there to support her through it. It’s really reminiscent of what Hopper says in his letter at the end of season 3:

“So, you know what? Keep on growing up, kid. Don't let me stop you. Make mistakes, learn from 'em, and when life hurts you, because it will, remember the hurt. The hurt is good. It means you're out of that cave.”

Remember the hurt. The hurt is good. It means you’re out of that cave.

He treats her like a person, and he doesn’t treat her like she’s fragile or she can break. Because he of all people knows what that feels like.

[blouisparadise]

Upon request, today we have a Valentine's Day fic rec list! All of these fics involve Valentine's Day in some way or have a Valentine's Day vibe. We had a very short version of this rec list that we posted many years ago, but as you can see, there have been a ton of amazing Valentine's Day-related fics posted since then. Happy reading!

1) The Valentine's Day Special | Explicit | 1,322 words

Every year on Valentine's Day Harry and Louis spend the whole day participating in whatever kinks they want. This means February 14th is one of their favorite days of the year.

2) Valentine's Day | Explicit | 1,900 words

Louis and Harry are excited for Valentine's Day and can barely make it back to the hotel room.

3) All The Love | Explicit | 2,118 words

Harry smiles warmly when he sees the room with the makeshift dining table, coffee mugs for wine glasses, and a couple lit scented candles scattered across the room. He fills an empty glass and places the flowers in it, setting it on Louis’s bedside table. His smile grows even more fond when he sits across from Louis, seeing the meal his boy has prepared. They’ve only been officially dating for about a month and a half, but things couldn’t be going any better. “What’s this?” Harry asks, nodding in the direction of the dishes in front of him. “Chicken stuffed with mozzarella wrapped in Parma ham with a side of mash,” Louis says full of pride. “My little chef,” the curly haired boy grins, leaning over the table to press a soft kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek before taking a bite. “This is really good baby.”

4) Red Pants | Mature | 2,463 words

One shot in which fem Louis wears his tight little red pants to school on Valentine’s Day, and discovers he has a secret admirer.

5) Love Me Like You Do | Not Rated | 3,964 words

Louis is all in if Harry is, and Paris seems like the perfect place to ask

6) Lagrangian Point | Explicit | 4,055 words

They find each other again the night of Valentine's Day.

7) I've Loved You Three Summers Now Honey, But I Want 'Em All | Mature | 4,216 words

The restaurant was small and bright, soft colors filled the walls and tables and fairy lights hung from everywhere. From what Harry had read, the food wasn’t overly expensive but it was still comparable to what you would get at one of the more expensive places. If Harry could he would take Louis to the biggest most expensive and extravagant restaurants to do what he planned to tonight, but this would do. After being led to their table Harry nervously tapped his jacket pocket, sighing in relief when he felt the small box still there. Tonight was the night. He couldn’t wait till it was time to surprise Louis with all the gifts he got for him. Then finally the big surprise.

8) Reckless Serenade | Explicit | 4,446 words

Note: This fic features Girl Direction.

Harry's Google search history may or may not look like 'my girlfriend doesn't know we're dating.'

9) Dancing In The Moonlight | Explicit | 4,587 words

Louis’ fuck buddy gets a date for Valentine’s day and he discovers that denial isn’t just a river in Egypt.

10) Keep Your Head Down And Make It To Me | Not Rated | 4,643 words

“You know, if I hadn’t been so stupid 8 years ago, we could’ve been doing this for 8 long years. My sincere apologies,” “Maybe, but now I get to enjoy this moment even more because it’s been 8 years and I’ve never stopped wanting to kiss you ever since,” Louis admits, a light blush surfacing upon his face. “I love you,” Harry repeats. Louis beams at him. Literally beams. “I love you, Harry.”

11) Cherries In The Snow | Mature | 5,151 words

It’s Valentine’s Day, and Harry is not in the mood. So naturally, Louis lets Harry paint his body with kiss marks to make him feel better.

12) Be Mine, Little Valentine | Explicit | 7,435 words

All Louis wants is to find someone who’ll love all of him. There’s just one tiny complication.

13) Indecent Proposal | Explicit | 8,445 words

The one where Louis and Harry reminisce the ups and downs of a relationship that once was, imagining themselves as the happy couple celebrating in front of them, and decide that maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be too bad to relive their relationship one more time.

14) Let Me Be Your Good Night | Explicit | 10,517 words

Cupping one hand over his fist and holding them to his chest, Harry’s nose scrunches hopefully, “Would you want to get a drink before calling it a night?” Louis stares at him. “I know you’re probably tired, it’s just—” Harry sighs, wiggling his hands around nervously. “We’re both going to be alone after this and I really enjoyed talking to you, so maybe this is a little pathetic, but I could use the company?” “I, uh,” he stalls, weighing his options: either go home, have a wank, then bathe the night off, or talk more with the affable sweetheart while sharing a drink or two. Easy. “I’d like that. Sure.”

15) Better Than Words | Explicit | 11,321 words

Note: This fic is the second part of a series.

Harry and Louis have an argument while at the doctors to check on their baby. Then they celebrate Harry’s birthday and Valentine’s Day in their own way.

16) Kiss Me Once, Kiss Me Twice | Mature | 13,487 words

You’re a fucking brat, you know that,” Harry muttered through clenched teeth, bones already burning with the pure desire and hatred mixing in his body. It was an intoxicating rush of adrenaline and something else that probably came with fucking Louis Tomlinson. He squeezed his neck just a little tighter. “I can’t stand it.” Their lips were brushing against each other, just moving with the ragged movements of their mouths and harsh breathing. “You’re a lying piece of shit dickhead,” Louis muttered right back. That was all he did, challenge and nag. He loved to have the last word and Harry let him because he used all his energy to fuck him mindless.

17) Lead Me To Paradise | Explicit | 14,615 words

No one told Harry that a paramedic could be this pretty.

18) James The Pimp | Mature | 28,255 words

Everybody, please welcome my other good mate and Harry Styles’ Valentine Date, Louis Tomlinson!” 'Kill My Mind' played as the dusty-haired singer walked onto stage from the opposite side that Harry entered. “Thanks for having me, James.” Louis’ light voice carried well as he hugged James. With the grin still plastered to his cheeks, he looked around the bulkier man at Harry politely. “But, uh, I’m a tad bit confused. As lovely as Harry here is, you should probably both know I’m, er, into women.” There was a hint of awkward hesitation in his words. He likely thought Harry wasn’t straight and didn’t want to offend him, which Harry appreciated, even if he knew he had to say his next line despite it being utterly untrue. “The same goes to you, Louis, but I am as well.” James waved a hand flippantly. “Pish posh. Who really cares about that anyhow? Come along, boys. This is my show, so if I say you are each other’s Valentines, then you are each other’s Valentines. Now act like it!”

19) Cupid’s Chokehold | Explicit | 35,326 words

Louis is a Cupid who tries to match up Niall and Harry. It doesn’t work out as planned.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[katzkreationz]

Hey all! Sorry for the long absence here, life has been kicking my ass 😅

But I did finally pick up the tablet again, and I've been working on some things. I've been interested in character redesigns so thought I'd try it with some of my favorites (and some old OCs no one's seen yet or in a while). So if you're interested in seeing them sooner, please do drop by my patreon!

Notes:

Anti Comso and his family were my favorite villains in Fairly Oddparents (even when they kinda just...vanished along with every other previous villain that wasn't "relevant") Always thought it was a missed opportunity that we never got them acting ad a villainous family unit. Evil vacations, family bonding thru world conquest scheming, board game nights! C'mon it coulda been great!

Anti Cosmo-- some outfit changes, wanted to break away from the all navy blue color scheme a bit to make him really stand out more among the masses. Also wanted him to have a legitimate crown since...dude is the ruler of the race he deserves a cool ass crown. Made it reminiscent of a salt shaker, put a little upside horseshoe, and the number 13 for bad luck vibes. Alsoooo put some runes in there to symbolize "great protector", because even tho he's a menace....his plans are all focused on freeing his kind so they can do their thing. Just saying, if I had control of these characters, I'd probably be delving more into their place in the world.

Anti Poof (because I'm not calling him Foop)-- gave him a real body, and wanted to try and style his hair after both parents? Make him look a bit more like their kid ya know. Pretty simple design, cute lil onesie. Gave him a rattle instead to mirror Poof more, but cube instead of rounded. Styled it after a dice, and each side has an ailment he can inflict on people. Pink eye, stubbed toe, etc. In my version he's around his folks a lot more, but tries to keep himself presented as an independent person; he's a big boy he don't need no parents (the self proclaimed big boy says as he's burped like the 1 year old he is)

Anti Wanda-- the biggest changes, obviously. The show had some faults...like the constant fat jokes (cough fuck you Bitch Fartman). So out of spite, she's a chubby queen and her twink of a husband adores her every time she nearly snaps his spine. She's not the smartest, but she brings the muscle to Anti Cosmo's brains.

And of course, gave em all tails. Because they're cute, sue me.

[matttgirlies]

Matt & Me🎀

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

warnings - mentions of drug use

y/nn = your nickname for any confusion🩷

Chapter 11

Matt Sturniolo created his own world; only in his own environment did he feel secure, comfortable, and protected. A genuine camaraderie was created at Graceland. We lived as one big family, eating, talking, arguing, joking, playing, and traveling together.

Although I became friends with the guys in Matt’s retinue, he never let me, or anyone else, forget that I was his girl. I was never to get too close or become too familiar with any of the regulars.

One evening, after we came home from a movie, we said good night to everyone and went upstairs. Returning to the kitchen a few minutes later to get something to eat, I found Jerry Schilling, who’d just started working for Matt, making himself a snack. We started talking. A few minutes later, Matt appeared.

“What the hell are you two doing down here?” he shouted at us.

Intimidated, Jerry said, “Well, Matt, we were just talking. I was asking her how she felt, because she didn’t feel well this afternoon.”

“I came down to get something to eat,” I explained.

“y/nn, you don’t need to be roaming around here late at night,” he said, angrily ordering me upstairs.

Behind me, I could hear him lashing out at Jerry. “If you want to keep this job, son, you mind your own business. If there’s anyone who’s going to ask her how she feels, it’ll be me. You better mind your own goddamn business.”

I liked Jerry. He was warm, sincere, and very personable; just a couple of years older than I, he was one of the few people who I could relate to. But from that time on, it was a dodging match every time we’d run into each other. Now Jerry and I laugh about the “good old days” when we reminisce.

Most of the boys who worked for Matt had been around from the beginning and they knew all about him—his sense of humor, his sensitivity, and his temper. He stripped himself bare in front of them, and they accepted him for what he was.

Yet working for Matt was a twenty-four-hour-a-day job, and the boys were at his beck and call constantly. They played when he played and slept when he slept. It took a certain kind of personality to put up with his demands, whether they made sense or not.

“Come on, y/nn, let’s go to Los Angeles. I’ll show you where I film movies.,” he said one afternoon when we’d only been up for a few hours. He called downstairs and told Alan to alert everyone that he wanted to leave within the hour.

Alan said, “Okay, Boss. I think Richard and Gene are still sleeping. I’ll give ’em a call and tell ’em to come right over.”

“Their lazy asses are still sleeping?” Matt asked. “I’ve been up for two goddamn hours. They should have been over here by now. Alan, from now on, when I call down for my breakfast, call the boys and tell them I’m up and to be ready for anything, and that may include me not even coming downstairs. I just want them here.”

Demanding? Yes, but Matt could be just as generous. By today’s standards the boys’ salaries were not high—the average paycheck was $250 a week—but if the boys ever felt the pinch by the end of the month, they would go to Matt. They’d ask him if he could help them out with a down payment on a house or the first and last months’ payments on an apartment. Matt always came through for them, lending them the one thousand or five thousand or ten thousand dollars they asked for. He was rarely if ever paid back.

There also was no limit to the expensive gifts he gave them—television consoles for Christmas, bonus checks, Cadillac convertibles, Mercedes-Benzes. If he heard someone was sad or depressed, he loved to surprise them with a gift, usually a brand-new car. When he gave to one, he would usually end up giving to all.

James didn’t have much respect for the guys. He said Matt just gave and gave and gave, and they took and took and took. He’d say, “Son, we have to save.” Matt would answer, “It’s only money, Dad. I just have to go out and make more.”

James resented the regulars acting as if Graceland was their personal club. They’d go into the kitchen at any hour and order anything they wanted. Naturally, everyone ordered something different. The cooks worked night and day keeping them happy. James felt, “To hell with the boys. Their main concern should be Matt.”

What was really outrageous was that the regulars were ordering sirloin steaks or prime ribs while Matt usually ate hamburgers or peanut butter and banana sandwiches.

I wasn’t too popular around Graceland when I started reorganizing the kitchen. I set down a policy of having one menu per meal, and anyone who didn’t like what was on it could go to a local restaurant. This new edict resulted in much grumbling from the guys, but the cooks were relieved, and James sanctioned my decision, announcing, “It’s about time someone organized the meals. It was beginning to look like we were feeding half of Boston.”

Matt was the boss, the provider, and the power. Both the boys and I had to protect him from people who annoyed or irritated him and were no longer in his favor. Before coming down for the evening, he’d have me call downstairs to check who was there. I’d run down the guests, aware that certain names would strike him wrong.

“Shit,” he’d say, his mood destroyed. “What’s he want? Bring me some more bad news?” He’d stay up in his room rather than spend an evening with someone he didn’t like. There was one particular regular who had incurred his disfavor, and Matt told everyone he didn’t want him around. “Don’t let him through those goddamn gates!” Matt ordered. “All I have to do is look at his face and I get depressed.” Matt barred him from Graceland for a number of years, saying, “If he changes his morbid attitude, maybe I’ll change my mind.” His perceptions were correct, as these “friends” eventually betrayed him.

Matt and James kept some of their relatives at a distance because, as Matt explained to me, they’d shunned him when he was growing up, ridiculing him as a sissy, a mama’s boy. Mary Lou stood up for Matt and told his tormentors to go their own way. Angrily, she had said, “Don’t bother us with these accusations.”

Then fame and fortune hit, and suddenly all the kinfolk came around, begging for jobs or crying that they needed help. Sometimes Matt got upset, charging, “The only time they visit is with their hand out. It’d be nice if they’d come around just to see how I was doing. But hell no, it’s always, ‘Ah, Matt, I could use a little extra cash. Could you help me out?’ Hell, I’ll bet when I’m dead and gone, they’ll still be taking advantage.” But Matt ended up slipping each of them a hundred dollars or more every time they came around. If it had been up to James, he would have gotten rid of every one of them. But Matt kept saying, “No, Dad, they don’t have any place to go. They couldn’t work anywhere. Keep them here.”

From the beginning of his success, Matt put many family members on salary, and all had titles. James was his business manager; Patsy, his personal secretary; uncles Vester Sturniolo and Johnny and Travis Smith, and cousin Harold Lloyd, gate guards; cousins Billy, Bobby, and Gene, personal aides; and then there was Tracy Smith, who seemed to go from brother to brother for support. Matt took care of everyone.

I remember one night at Graceland when Matt came back to the kitchen and saw Tracy pacing the floor. “Hey, Tracy,” he said, “How ya doing, man?” Tracy, his hands in his pockets, could hardly look Matt in the eye. “I don’t know, Matt,” he sighed. “What do ya mean, you don’t know? Everyone knows how they’re doin’, man.”

Tracy, shifting back and forth, mumbled, “I got my nerves in the dirt, Matt.” Matt staggered back, laughing. “Nerves in the dirt! Hell, I never heard it expressed like that before. You need some money, Tracy?”

Again, Tracy just shifted back and forth, as Matt called Nate over and told him to give Tracy a bill. A big smile covered Tracy’s lined face as he happily took his hundred dollars and walked out the door.

Matt knew that having his nerves in the dirt was Tracy’s way of saying he was down and out—and worried sick about it. He never forgot that phrase. “Poor ol’ Matt,” he’d say. “I’ll never forget the look on his face that night, poor ol’ guy.”

That was Matt—always caring, always sensitive to everyone’s needs, even while presenting a macho image to his fans and friends.

Anything I could think of doing for him, I did. I made sure Graceland was always warm and inviting, with the lights turned low, as he preferred them, the temperature in his bedroom set to his exact desire (freezing), and the kitchen filled with the aroma of his favorite meals.

Every night before dinner was served, I came downstairs first, checked with the maids to see that his food was just the way he liked it—his mashed potatoes creamily whipped, plenty of cornbread, and his meat burnt to perfection. I always had candles on the dining room table to create a romantic atmosphere despite the fact that we always ate with several of the regulars.

I loved babying Matt. He had a little-boy quality that could bring out the mother instinct in any woman, a beguiling way of seeming utterly dependent. It was this aspect of his charm that made me want to hold him, shower him with affection, protect him, fight for him, and yes, even die for him. I went to extremes in taking care of him, from cutting his steak at dinner to making sure his water glass was always filled. I enjoyed pampering and spoiling him and found myself jealous of others vying for his attention and approval.

But I didn’t always receive his approval. If something went wrong with his dinner, Matt blew up. “Why isn’t this steak done? Why didn’t you make sure the maids cooked it right? If you’d have done your job, it wouldn’t have turned out like this.” Obviously something else was wrong, and I didn’t recognize it at the time. Because of the continuous pressures and problems in Matt’s life, all magnified by taking prescribed drugs, little things would set him off. I took responsibility for everything in his life and always took it all too personally.

I wanted to be with Matt as much as I could, but while going to the movies or the fairgrounds every night might have been a wonderful way for him to relax, it posed an enormous problem for me. Often I wouldn’t get home until 5 or 6 a.m., and I’d have to be at school two hours later. Sometimes I never went to sleep. When I did, I could barely make it out of bed. I would lie there trying to drum up the strength to face the day, Matt making it even harder by suggesting that I sleep in and cut classes. It would have been so easy to go along with his suggestion, but hanging over me was the agreement I’d made with my parents. They trusted me and even though I was letting them down, I still had to keep up the facade.

Day after day I drove to school, attended classes till noon, then returned to Graceland to slip back into bed and cuddle next to Matt, who was still sound asleep. When he awoke at 3 or 4 p.m., I might never have left his side for all he knew. I was there to give him his usual order of orange juice, a Spanish omelet, home-fried potatoes, a mere two pounds of bacon, and—first and foremost—his black coffee.

Everyone who knew Matt was aware that it took him at least two to three hours to wake up fully. Asking him to make a decision, even a simple one such as what movie he wanted to see that night, was ill-advised. He was just too groggy and irritable from the sleeping pills, which were causing him to sleep as many as fourteen hours a day. It seemed only natural for him to take some Dexedrine to wake up.

I was always concerned about his intake of sleeping pills. His horror of insomnia, compounded with a family history of compulsive worrying, caused him to down three or four Placidyls, Seconals, Quaaludes, or Tuinals almost every night—and often it was a combination of all four. When I expressed my concern, he just picked up the medical dictionary, always near at hand on his night table.

“In here is the explanation for every type of pill on the market, their ingredients, side effects, cures, everything about them,” he assured me. “There isn’t anything I can’t find out.”

It was true. He was always reading up on pills, always checking to see what was on the market, and which ones had received FDA approval. He referred to them by their medical names and knew all their ingredients. Like everyone else around him, I was impressed with his knowledge and certain that he was an expert. One would think he had a degree in pharmacology. He always assured me that he didn’t need pills, that he could never become dependent on them. This difference in opinion resulted in many serious confrontations; I always compromised my integrity and ended up taking his viewpoint.

I began taking sleeping pills and diet pills too. Two Placidyls for him and one for me. A Dexedrine for him and one for me. Eventually Matt’s consumption of pills seemed as normal to me as watching him eat a pound of bacon with his Spanish omelet. I routinely took “helpers” in order to get to sleep after wild rides at the fairgrounds or early-morning jam sessions. And I routinely took more “helpers” when I woke up in order to maintain the fast pace and, more importantly, to study for my final exams.

During the last month before finals, I started popping more dexies than before. They seemed to give me the energy I needed to get through classes and homework. Every free moment was devoted to cramming a whole semester’s work into a few weeks. But my concentration was scattered; the strain of life at Graceland had finally caught up with me.

I had already been warned by Sister Adrian that in order for me to graduate, I had to pass all my subjects. During a talk in her office, I wanted desperately to confide in her and explained how hard it was to maintain my grade level with the late hours I kept: But how could I tell that to a nun?

I had no real goals after graduation, but I did sometimes dream of becoming a dancer or possibly enrolling in an art academy. Now I realize that I was deeply influenced by Matt’s casual attitude toward continued schooling. He figured I didn’t need it and I agreed. Just being with him most of the time would provide an education—not to mention experience—that no school could give me. He wanted me to be his totally, free to go to him in an instant if he needed me.

That sounded great to me. I’d never planned on a future without Matt. Therefore, while my classmates were deciding which colleges to apply to, I was deciding which gun to wear with what sequined dress. I was tempted to say to Sister Adrian, “Oh, by the way, Sister, does gunmetal gray go with royal blue sequins?” With that attitude it was no surprise that I was still woefully unprepared for my most hated subject, algebra, the week before finals.

On the day of the test, I sat in the crowded classroom, hyper from downing a dexy, trying to work out the problems. Despite my effort, I knew there was no way I was going to pass. I started to panic. I had to graduate. I had an obligation to Matt and to my parents, who I knew would yank me out of Graceland the minute I failed this test. I glanced at the girl next to me—and at her completed test paper. It’s my last resort, I thought. I’m going for it. I was not willing to face the consequences of being sent home for failing this test.

Her name was Janet and she was a straight A student. I tapped her on the shoulder and flashed my brightest smile, whispering, “Are you a Matt fan?” Taken aback by my question, Janet nodded yes. “How would you like to come to one of his parties?” I asked.

“Are you kidding?” she replied. “I’d love to.”

“Well, I know a way that it can be arranged.”

I eyed her test paper and explained. Janet instantly grasped my dilemma and, without a word, slid her paper to the edge of her desk. Now I had a full view of her answers. I spent the rest of the hour furiously copying them down and I not only passed, but I got an A on that test.

I hadn’t expected Matt to make much of my graduation. His attitude was, “A diploma’s not that important; life’s experiences are.” But to my surprise, he really looked forward to it and arranged to have a big party for our friends after the ceremony. There he presented a beautiful red Corvair, my first car.

On the big night he was like a proud parent. Nervous about what he should wear to the ceremony, he finally settled on a dark blue suit, and I put on my navy blue gown. I couldn’t possibly keep the cap on over that mass of teased hair.

Matt had a limo waiting for us out front. But there was one problem: I did not want him to come to the actual ceremony. It would attract a lot of attention, and all eyes would be focused on him instead of the graduating seniors.

Finally I worked up enough courage to ask him to wait outside, and explained why. Smiling his funny little grin, the one that came to his lips when he was hurt or upset, he agreed without hesitation. “I hadn’t thought about that,” he said. “I won’t come in. I’ll just be outside in the car waiting for you. That way I’ll kinda be there.”

And that was what he did. I accepted my diploma with mixed emotions. I would have loved for him to have been watching, but only I knew what a physical, emotional, and mental strain it had been to get that piece of paper. To me, it represented freedom, freedom to stay out until dawn if I wanted and sleep all day if I wanted. It represented freedom from my school uniform and from the teasing the entourage subjected me to every time they caught me in it trying to sneak past them at Graceland. I was a big girl playing in the big leagues.

As soon as I could get away, I ran outside. In front of the church, Matt and the boys were standing by the long black limo, looking like the Chicago Mafia in their dark glasses and suits, each concealing a.38. Around them a group of nuns were clamoring for Matt’s autograph.

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd. This material may be protected by copyright.

a/n - so cute🎀

[bippot]

Summary: In the comfort of his relationship, Bob gets a bit excited when his girlfriend first admits she loves him and unknowingly convinces her to be hours late for work.

After an incident that causes her bed to break, Bob is mortified but still deals with the teasing he gets from his friends when they grab drinks at the Hard Deck later that day.

Tags:Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Breaking the Bed, Love Confessions, IKEA, Drinking

Music recommendation: Be My Baby by The Ronettes

Top Gun: Maverick, Robert "Bob" Floyd Masterlist - here

Previous chapter - Tense

A normal day started with an early morning for Bob. He'd always been a morning person. Always. Yet, these days he found it harder to get out of bed because that meant leaving behind his sleeping girlfriend.

"You're so mean, Lieutenant," Y/N whined, her voice sleepy and hoarse as he tried to sneak out of bed as quietly as possible. She'd woken to the sudden change of temperature. The furnace she'd been sleeping on had decided that going for a run at five in the morning was more appealing than keeping her warm. "Do you like it when I freeze to death? Am I doomed to catch hypothermia?" She pouted from under the blankets, reaching out to press her cool hands against his bare chest.

"You're so dramatic," he chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

"Well, I am cold."

Fully opening her eyes, she looked up through her lashes at him, giving him puppy dog eyes and grasping onto his hands to pull him closer. "R2 please..."

He rolled his eyes and gave in. How could he not when she looked at him that way? He was just a man, after all, and it would take a god's will to resist such a request.

With a faux annoyed huff, Bob got back into bed and was instantly squished as Y/N flopped her entire body on top of him. At first, he pretended to be rather nonchalant about the whole thing but when Y/N tucked her head into the crook of his neck, he couldn't keep up the facade any longer. His one hand rested on the midpoint of her spine while the other drummed a rhythm on her ass cheek.

"What song today?" She asked, and like usual, he decided to quietly sing along to his pats.

🎵The night we met I knew I needed you so

And if I had the chance I'd never let you go

So won't you say you love me?

I'll make you so proud of me

We'll make 'em turn their heads every place we go🎵

"Oh baby," she cooed in reply, giggling and pressing soft kisses along his jawline.

🎵So won't you, please

Be my little baby?

Say you'll be my darlin'

Be my baby now🎵

His voice was low and gruff and he could feel her smile against his skin.

While he sang, Bob swayed them side to side as if he was rocking her back to sleep. Her droopy eyes were looking at him with such love and devotion he felt himself melt into a pile of gooey goo.

🎵I'll make you happy, baby, just wait and see

For every kiss you give me, I'll give you three🎵

To go along with the song, he gave her three pecks. One on the forehead, then her nose, then finally, her lips. Her head came up from his neck to look up at him, her chin on her folded hands on his chest.

🎵Oh, since the day I saw you

I have been waiting for you

You know I will adore you 'til eternity🎵

All she could do was dreamily beam at him. His voice may not have been the most professional sounding, but damn she loved to listen to it. It was sweet, calming and made her want to stay wrapped up forever in his embrace.

🎵So won't you, please

Be my little baby?

Say you'll be my darlin'

Be my baby now🎵

Y/N often reminisced on their meeting. These last few months would've been very different if she'd turned him away when he asked in that incredibly shy voice of his, "Sorry, ma'am, am I too late?"

If she'd had said that he was, she'd never know what a WSO was, or the diner on the corner of Magnolia was sort of overpriced, or that that shy guy that interrupted her lunch break fucks like a machine and is the sweetest man she'd ever met.

🎵So come on and, please

Be my little baby?

Say you'll be my darlin'

Be my baby now🎵

This was definitely better than going for a run.

As he finished his tune, she buried herself into his neck again, snuggling as close as physically possible before sighing and saying, "Love you." And Bob was sure that this moment would be etched inside of his memory for eternity. Because this, right here, was everything.

But before he could say it back, she'd fallen asleep. Her soft snores echoing around the room and he smiled, closing his eyes and leaning his head back onto the pillow with a smug smile.

Honestly, he thought he would've been the first one to say it. Everyone knew how badly he was in love with Y/N. It was written in every inch of his being: in his smile, the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed and the little flutter of excitement inside of him whenever she did something cute like this. When he looked at her, he felt like the luckiest guy alive.

And maybe he was, because she loved him back. That thought alone brought a small blush to his cheeks.

When her alarm clock went off a couple of hours later, she groaned at the loud noise. "Five more minutes," she mumbled, still half asleep and clinging onto him like a koala bear as she hit snooze, her face still pressed deeply into his neck.

Bob hadn't fallen back asleep. No, he stayed awake and had been running his hand through her hair as he watched her sleep, listening to the soothing sound of her breathing. He wasn't even thinking anymore; all his thoughts just floated aimlessly in his mind but he knew they all started with her name.

"Darlin, you gotta get up now," he whispered. With a loud groan, she pulled away from him, rested her head on her left arm and glared up at him with bleary eyes. He grinned. "Good morning, grumpy."

"I think we should quit our jobs and become hermits."

"We'd both go mad."

She yawned, stretching her arms above her head before rolling her shoulders and letting out a long deep breath. She blinked slowly, trying to wake up faster, and when that didn't seem to work, she sat up straight with a huff and pushed her tangled hair out of her face.

"Gimme a kiss," she demanded, and Bob obliged without hesitation, pressing a gentle kiss to her mouth. He broke the kiss and ran his hands through her hair, smoothing it down with a loving touch.

"Happier?"

"Much."

They shared another quick kiss before Y/N hopped off the bed and began putting on clothes. She was halfway through tying up the shirt of her uniform when Bob knelt on the mattress and slapped her hand away so he could do it for her.

As soon as the perfect bow had been completed, he smoothed any crinkles with gentle brushes of his palm and beamed up at her. "Beautiful as always," he complimented. Y/N grinned back and leaned down to kiss him once more, which gave him the perfect opportunity to mumble those three words against her lips. "I love you."

"I can't leave for work now. That would be a sin. Only an asshole would leave now."

Filled to the brim with happiness, she playfully pushed him until he hit the mattress. He landed on his back with a yelp of surprise, his eyes widening as she climbed on top of him and pinned him down. Admittedly, he was stronger than her and could break the grapple at any moment, but he was too entranced to even think of doing that.

A giggle escaped her throat as he stared up at her adoringly, a smirk tugging at his lips that she had to kiss away before he got too full of himself - which was unlikely, but she just wanted an excuse to kiss him (not that she needed one). Her fingers traced along his stubbled jaw, her nails lightly scratching against his warm skin.

"Baby, baby, baby... you're going to be late," Bob muttered breathlessly, pulling her hand away from his face and bringing her palm up to his lips. She hummed with slight annoyance, but soon got over it as she moved her lips to his neck and he became mush beneath her.

Against his skin, Y/N mumbled, "I'm the boss. I'll just tell Ramona to do my early morning sessions because I'm too busy showing my very hot boyfriend how much I love him," and realised that, yeah, she could do that. She would do that!

Rather abruptly, she sat up and leant to reach her phone on the bedside table as Bob stared dumbly in utter shock, his mind having yet processed that she was being serious. With a giddy expression on her face, Y/N quickly typed out a text and, as soon as it was done, threw her phone somewhere so she could get back to giving Bob her full attention.

"A bit shitty of me to do it over text but Ramona does have a tendency to yap on and on." She returned her focus to her boyfriend who was staring at her incredulously. "Now where were we, Lieutenant?"

Teasingly, Y/N ran her nails down his chest and stomach, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps and shivers in her wake, a goofy grin spreading across his handsome face. Then she lowered herself so she could kiss up his abs and declare her love after each peck she placed on his body, all the while her thumbs were drawing circles on his sides.

Although he usually liked taking the lead, he would be lying if he claimed that he didn't adore all the attention she gave him. In past relationships he'd always been the giver. Being the receiver used to make him feel selfish, but now, he enjoyed the feeling. This woman made him feel as though he was worth every ounce of affection and attention she bestowed upon him.

Between them, the worship was reciprocal. That never had happened before. For either of them.

He let out a small whimper as she continued to place feathery kisses up to his neck until she landed on his cheek and lingered there for a moment before pulling back to see how flushed he'd become. The simple answer was very flushed. His entire being practically glowed with the amount of love she lavished upon him.

"God help me," he whispered mostly to himself, grabbing at her waist and holding her tight. He never wanted this to end. "You don't understand how much I need you."

Smiling coyly, Y/N teased, "No. I don't. So why don't you show me then?"

With one swift motion, Bob flipped them over so that he was hovering over her, one hand supporting his weight as the other found its way into her underwear and started rubbing slow circles against her clit.

"I can't wait to be inside of you," he told her with such passion, such intensity, that he could have sworn her eyes darkened considerably before the same lightning bolt shot through him, burning itself deeper and hotter.

"Why wait?" She replied huskily, reaching up to cup his face in her hand and pulling him down into another searing kiss that was filled with longing and heat and passion and love. He was completely lost in her, addicted and unable to stop, that his body moved on autopilot to rid them of their remaining clothes.

Completely emotional and physically bare, Y/N moaned into his mouth as Bob slid his cock into her warm wetness, the feeling of it hitting her walls filling her with pure ecstasy and satisfaction. Yet, he didn't move. Instead, he held steady above her as their heavy breathing filled the air, their eyes locked together as she grabbed onto his shoulders for support, their noses nudging against each other's in a tender gesture.

Neither said a single word. Their bodies spoke louder than words ever could. There was no need to. They understood one another just fine.

The look in Bob's eyes had her heart melting. It was the kind of look that made her feel like she was the most important person in the world to him. The feeling only intensified when he bent down and gently kissed her cheek, murmuring sweet nothings to her softly, as if she were a delicate little flower petal ready to fall apart at a mere wind. His words were soft whispers, barely audible even in silence, his voice soft and hoarse, yet laced with meaning.

After what felt like forever and no time at all, Bob finally started to begin thrusting, deep, short movements that ensured that she was constantly filled by him. "Taking all of me so good..." he rasped, his grip around her waist tightening. "I'm so deep inside you right now, darlin'. You like being filled, huh?"

Y/N nodded eagerly, her legs wrapping around his hips. There was barely enough room between their bodies but she made sure they were pressed as close together as possible and she gripped tightly onto his upper biceps, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Talk to me, baby."

"Feel full, Bobby."

"Bobby?"

If she wasn't focused on how good she was feeling, she would've rolled her eyes. A good natured roll, but a roll nonetheless.

"Lieutenant. Feels good, so full, Lieutenant, please--"

"That's better. Now, you gotta open your eyes."

She did so, and found the image so jaw dropping hot that she was glad she did as he said. He looked gorgeous. Sweaty, messy hair, a flushed face, a satisfied smile that shone through despite the fact he was biting his lip trying to control himself, eyes dark with lust as he watched her reaction.

"So beautiful... pretty," she breathed out with a dreamy sigh, her fingers running through his curls as she admired every line of his face with utmost admiration. His cheeks flamed at the praise and her words, but she knew he loved it. As did she.

His smile widened and he began increasing the force of each thrust he took until both his hands had found purchase on the headboard, gripping it tight as he grunted, his brows furrowing as he tried desperately not to lose control before she did. His movements became deeper, yet not necessarily more rough, as if he was attempting to prolong the pleasure for her sake.

And oh, the pleasure was glorious. It seemed that nothing compared to feeling her lover's big cock filling her up to the hilt, stretching her walls and making her want more if that was even possible. Her back arched off of the bed in a desperate attempt to get closer to him.

"You feel so good wrapped around me, babe. You're so tight... I'm so glad, so fucking glad, that you stayed home. Stayed home so I can fuck your brains out," he groaned lowly, almost growling as he increased the speed of his strokes, his fingers digging into the headboard until...

Crack!

The wooden panel of the headboard cracked in two under Bob's grip. "Oh shit!" He gasped, his eyes widening in alarm as he stopped to inspect the damage he'd done to her bed. And now the bed had stopped moving, a panel below them also gave in and broke away, causing the structure of the entire frame to collapse. Y/N let out an amused yelp as the mattress dropped to the ground with a loud thunk.

Sorry to her neighbours.

Bob stared at her in shock for a moment, not quite comprehending what had just occurred. "We broke the bed? We really broke the damn bed?!" He exclaimed in bewilderment. "That's not a thing that actually happens. That's a porn thing."

Y/N couldn't contain herself. After the initial shock passed, she laughed with delight. He looked absolutely mortified and she thought it was adorable.

"Robert Francis Floyd, the bedbreaker!"

"I'm mortified."

Soothingly, she brought her hand to his spine and pulled him down to rest on top of her, her palm sliding along his bare back as she kissed his cheek over and over again, reassuring, "I needed to get a new one anyway, don't worry about it, my love."

"I'll go to IKEA while you're at work and I'll have it built by the time you get home. I promise."

"You're so good to me, Lieutenant."

"You're not mad? At all?" He asked her, genuinely surprised as he lifted his gaze to stare into her eyes once again. "You sure?"

Why would she be mad? It was an accident. The bed was old. And he had been making her feel so good beforehand. And it was hot. So, no. She wasn't mad. Not in the slightest.

Cradling his head in her hands, she pressed a quick kiss to his lips, before saying in a soft tone, "I'm sure." With a slight pout, she added playfully, "But to make it up to me, we could carry on with our activities, huh?"

His expression lit up immediately at that suggestion. She was right. The bed was already broken, but it still worked even though it was on the floor. It would be unfortunate to stop now.

To entice him even further - not that she needed to, just wanted to - Y/N breathed against his ear, "Later when they ask where I've been at work, I could explain how my big, tough Navy man is so strong that he broke our bed and continued pounding me until I came on his big, thick cock." She turned on her doe eyes and caressed his biceps before adding, "They'd be so jealous, Lieutenant."

"Baby..." Bob muttered as his cock throbbed painfully at her words. The effect she had on him was undeniable and without fail, she would always have his complete and undivided attention. "I was planning on making love to you, but if you want to get fucked, that's what is going to happen," he said with a grin, his fingers starting to explore the length of her thigh, his breath hot across her neck before continuing, "Do you want to get fucked?"

By the lust so clear on her face, he knew the answer was a resounding yes, yet he waited until she said her answer out loud. "Yes baby, want you, want it so badly."

Who was he to refuse?

Plus, he was close before everything came crashing down. So close. And, after everything they'd built up, they needed a release.

Without warning, he thrust all the way back into her, causing her to sharply inhale and bite her lower lip to suppress the scream of pleasure that threatened to escape from her mouth. This time, his strokes were faster and rougher, his fingers gripping her hip bone hard as he haphazardly sucked on her neck, claiming her in the most carnal manner possible.

He could hear her gasp, taste the saltiness of her sweat mixed with the sweetness of her desire. Every fibre of his body craved her so much, so deeply, that it felt like a burning pain. The heat was searing. The flames were licking at his insides, making him burn. It was torture. But it didn't matter. He wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, and neither was Y/N.

"Look up at me," he demanded softly, wanting to look into her eyes. Then she did just that, looking up at him through hazy eyes, her cheeks flushed from pleasure, her lips swollen red from all the kisses she'd given. "Hi darlin."

"Hi baby."

Her face immediately softened and she leant into his hand as soon as he placed it upon her jawline, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb. And when her moans increased and her jaw dropped, he slid his thumb over her bottom lip until she took it into her mouth.

"That's my girl," he whispered to her, his voice low and hoarse because of how hard he was making her moan. "Let all those pretty, pretty noises come out. Let me feel it."

So, Y/N did exactly as she was told. She released every raw and needy and desperate noise out in the open, and Bob heard every single one with every single fibre of his being. They filled their whole room, reverberating loudly from walls and ceiling as it echoed around the space like the cries of a million angels crying out for salvation. For mercy, for peace and for love. For him.

"Darlin, I'm not going to last much longer..." His voice sounded strained, desperate, and utterly wrecked as he removed hand from her face to rub circles on her clit once more. She gasped at the sensation but then went completely slack in bliss, unable to resist the pleasurable feelings exploding inside her with every stroke he made. "Shit. Fuck. Yeah... god yes.. that feels amazing. Just. Oh my god."

If she told any of his friends that he had such a foul mouth, they'd never believe her.

Even the incoherent syllables he uttered when he came sounded as if they were supposed to be swear words. It felt like someone had opened a dam inside of him and allowed its contents to flood freely, spilling out of him as he rode her through ecstasy and satisfaction.

It wasn't long after he climaxed that his body collapsed onto her chest, his breathing heavy, his body limp. Y/N ran a loving hand through his hair, gently combing the strands away from his sweaty forehead, smiling at his

flushed state. It was a sight to behold and she loved it. He had this sexy side to him.

No one else got to see it but her. It was a privilege, really. One that only she could enjoy.

Once she went to open her mouth to speak, he playfully warned, "Don't say it," and rolled onto his side.

"Say what, R2?"

"Stop it."

"All I was -"

"No."

"Going to say -"

"Seriously."

" Is that R2D2 -"

"Y/N, you gotta stop saying this every time we have sex."

Smirking, she proudly announced, "R2D2 can fuck." Bob let out a groan, pressing his hands to his face, hiding the pink hue he was quickly turning. Y/N giggled at his antics and wrapped her arms tightly around his torso, bringing him closer so she could annoy him by placing loud "Mwah"'s all over his cheeks. He retaliated by pinching her thighs which only made her laughter grow louder.

Eventually, the teasing ended and the pair were left in comfortable silence, simply holding each other's hand and listening to the sound of their soft breathing. A peaceful moment between them that reminded both of them how blessed they both are. To have a life and share it with someone who loves and accepts them for who they truly are.

With a light sigh, Bob leaned over her and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You're seriously late for work," he chuckled.

"I am."

Fine. Maybe it was time to get ready for work. Y/N got up with a groan and began getting changed again. Would you believe it? Bob pulled the same stunt again and tugged her forward so he could do up her shirt for her. As he kissed her, she said, "Don't," the moment she knew he was going to repeat past events. That would've ensured she'd never clock in.

Just as she was about to finally leave, he called out, "Love you!" and she rushed back to repeat it back to him and give him another kiss before making her way out of the door.

The rest of the day was normal. Nothing special. No major incidents or anything out of ordinary happened. The only exciting thing that happened at work was that Rooster had booked an appointment so Y/N got to catch up with him for a while.

"Yeah, I don't know if Bob has mentioned this, but we're all going to the Hard Deck for a few drinks and wondered if you two want to go. Hangman did put it in the group chat but I don't think Bob answered," Bradley explained as the session finished up.

"I'll ask him once I get home. He's at IKEA at the moment so he'll be AWOL for the next couple of hours. It's his second home, I think."

"Ah, looking for something nice?"

"A bed."

Bradley raised an eyebrow at her.

"Mine broke."

Rooster snorted.

"Bobby-boy, what a stud!"

When she arrived home, Y/N found Bob on the floor of her bedroom surrounded by planks of wood, sheets of instruction paper and wayward screws. At one point, he must've got frustrated and taken his glasses off because they were delicately placed on the bedside table. She huffed out a laugh and lifted a plank off his chest to find that he'd taken a nap like that. "Bob. Bobby. Bobert. Robert...Robby? Hey baby, wake up," she said with a chuckle as she nudged him.

"Did you just call me Robby?"

"Sure did. Let's get you somewhere more comfortable." She held her hand out to pull him to his feet, leading him towards the sofa. "Can't read Swedish, huh?"

"Sure can't."

Gently tugging at the bottom of his shirt, she said, "Off. Then face down," and he was quick to oblige, revealing his naked upper body and slumped down onto the cushions in seconds flat with a smug smile. He knew what was about to happen. Y/N was gone for a minute then returned with a towel and some oil in her hand. Kneeling on the ground beside him, she kissed his nose before getting to work massaging the oil into his body, her tongue trapped between her teeth in concentration as she pampered him with attention, caressing his shoulders and sides, smoothing out the tension in his muscles. Her hands glided down his skin, feeling every curve, every dip, every muscle of his back as she worked her magic.

Free massages were the best, Bob knew that for a fact now. Her hands were always on him, and he only had to give her a look - one with wide eyes and a slight nodding of his head towards the point of tension - and she was soothing his aches without another word spoken. He was spoiled enough that sometimes, like now, he didn't even need to give her a look.

Sometimes her fingertips seemed to know what he wanted before the words actually fell from his lips. Which was nice. Really nice.

And definitely very useful whenever he was working. He'd come home after a tiring day on base and her presence would make him emotionally feel better, but they'd developed a habit of talking to each other as she was getting the knots out of his shoulders and neck.

Often, she'd stand behind the sofa and be working on his muscles as he found something to watch during dinner time. She'd be giving him little kisses on his neck, his shoulder blades and the small nape of his neck to distract him and prolong the interaction for as long as she could.

"Rooster mentioned during his session that you weren't responding to the group chat," she spoke, her hands continuing to massage his shoulders as she slowly worked out the knots underneath her fingers. "Was IKEA too distracting?"

"They have everything in there!" he exclaimed excitedly, allowing himself to relax on the sofa and sink further into the cushions until they practically moulded to his form. He let out a contented sigh and closed his eyes.

"Well, they're going to the Hard Deck and were wondering if we wanted to go too. I wanna see Nat so I'm making the executive decision."

"Okay, okay, okay."

Once the massage was done, she towelled all the oil off and straddled his butt, giving him a gentle slap on his bum before he turned to face her. She smirked at the fake shocked expression on his face, and leaned down, placing her lips against his in a soft kiss that lingered for a few moments before pulling away to admire his gorgeous, relaxed face.

Then, a certain expression crept onto his face, one she didn't see often but always felt a rush of bashfulness whenever she saw it. Cockily grinning, he looked up at her, teasing, "We're your coworkers jealous of your big, tough Navy man and his big, thick cock?" and was more than happy that her cheeks instantly reddened and buried her face in his chest.

She didn't say a word, merely mumbling incoherent words into his skin, trying to hide her embarrassed face. "I hate you," she said quietly, still not taking her head off him. He laughed at her cute action and ran his fingers through her locks softly.

"I love you too babe." He gave her a quick slap on her ass, as if she was a horse he was telling to giddy up. "Gonna take a shower before we go out. You joining me?"

"Be my big, tough Navy man and carry me there?"

He rolled his eyes good naturedly, but did it anyway, picking her up and slinging her over his shoulder. As he walked to the bathroom, he made sure to playfully spank her so the house was filled with hysterical giggling.

The pair made it to the Hard Deck only five or so minutes later than they originally said they would. Bob hated being late, he really did. Yet, it was his fault as he'd gotten a little carried away when Y/N was trying to put her earrings in but was getting distracted by Bob's lips on her neck instead. She had to hurriedly conceal the brand new hickey that he'd just created on her pulse point.

"Is it noticeable?" Y/N asked as they got out of the car to enter the building.

Honestly, she'd done a pretty good job at covering it. A bit of a pinkish shade poked through, but nothing too noticeable or suspicious as far as everyone else in the bar was concerned.

"No one will know a thing," Bob replied, taking hold of her hand and interlocking their fingers together. As if to reassure her of its noticeability, his thumb swiped across her knuckle in a calming manner.

Hangman was the first that Bob saw upon entering the bar. He nodded hello to Bob, then upon seeing Y/N, made sure to wiggle his fingers at her when he waved. While everyone knew Jake had once called Y/N the 'super hot woman with magic hands', they knew he only did this kind of shit to mess with Bob.

Bob knew that. Y/N did not.

Waving back, Y/N gave Hangman a polite smile and pulled Bob towards his friends. Phoenix immediately ushered Y/N to sit beside her so they could catch up while Bob went off to play pool with Rooster.

"Bradshaw told me he saw you earlier today," Phoenix began, turning to talk like it was a secret. "Said something about IKEA."

At her words, Y/N looked over at Bob to see that he was completely red, clearly going through the same conversation with Bradley. Her boyfriend made eye contact with her and mouthed, "You told him?"

Y/N shrugged. "Sorry baby."

Phoenix let out a bark of laughter and bumped her shoulder into Y/N's. "Didn't know Floyd had it in him."

"You'd be surprised."

"Oh?"

"He's not so shy at home."

Natasha grinned, took a swig of her beer, took one last look at how pink Bob's ears were and changed the subject. The private life of her backseater was something she'd always love teasing him about but, because he'd become a brother to her, she didn't want to hear all the scandalous details.

One game of pool turned into two, three...however many and the other guys wouldn't drop it. The moment Hangman found out, Jake crowned Bob as 'The Bedbreaker' and the other guys soon joined in on the nickname. Frankly, Bob was a little scared that the moniker would be replacing his callsign soon.

It wasn't as if he couldn't handle them calling him a Bedbreaker; hell, a part of him loved it. Sweet, innocent looking Floyd was getting recognition for not being those things. He was the guy who got laid, got laid so hard that he broke a bed. That's a manly thing to be known for.

Another - more prominent - part of him, hated it. He tried to deny it and laugh it off, but they kept saying. It made him feel a little guilty since it was a look into his and his girlfriend's sex life, and that wasn't a gentlemanly thing to speak about with your friends. No matter how hot it had been.

If his mother found out, he'd not only be mortified about the fact that his mother knew in the first place, but she'd definitely whoop his ass for the information being out in public.

Admittedly, it was Y/N's fault that it was known. Yet he still felt bad.

Drinks in hand, the girls joined the guys at the pool table and handed everyone their usual orders. Y/N slipped Bob's beer into his hand and was rewarded with a kiss on the temple as he wrapped a protective arm around her waist and held her close.

With Y/N by his side, it was easier to take the teasing. She could brush it off. She could take the joke and run with it. And if it was particularly raunchy, she'd answer with a smug, "No comment" and let the mystery continue to grow.

Some of the civilians had clearly been waiting for the pool table for most of the night, so the Dagger Squad finally gave them what they wanted and retreated to a booth.

"It's a bit of a squish," Fanboy pointed out, moving closer towards the centre seat and bumping his elbow into Coyote's gut.

Mostly everyone managed to squash themselves in. Rooster and Bob were on the outside of the U, so Y/N teasingly posed, "I'll sit on Bob. Hangman, I'm sure you'd love to sit on Rooster."

"Hey now-"

"Oh, don't start," Rooster said, cutting him off with a chuckle. Dramatically, Brad opened his arms wide for Jake - and with a snort and a small push from Y/N - he reluctantly accepted the offer.

After a brief, uncomfortable silence, Jake complimented (although the tone he used made it sound like a complaint), "You actually have very comfortable thighs. I mean it."

"Thanks bud."

As Y/N interacted with his friends, Bob couldn't help but beam up at her with pride. His heart swelled so much he thought it might pop out of his chest in a burst of happiness. He was so incredibly happy that she was here and fit so easily into the group dynamic. He couldn't remember feeling like this in any other relationship.

She'd come into his life so suddenly, but she seemed to fit perfectly. So natural, so easy going, so warm, and he couldn't help but appreciate everything about her.

He was drawn from his thoughts by Y/N twirling the hair at the nape of his neck between her fingers. The action caused his mind to flutter. He momentarily lost all sense of social awareness and let out a giggle before shaking himself out of it. He cleared his throat to regain himself.

Luckily, only Y/N heard it.

Leaning closer to his ear, she asked, "What are you smiling about?"

"Just enjoying the moment," he answered with an impish grin, running his hand up and down her bare arm.

Y/N smirked, "I think you were staring at me." She wiggled her fingers before poking his ribs, causing him to flinch at the sudden intrusion.

"Maybe I was. I like looking at your pretty face."

Smiling sweetly, Y/N shook her head and leaned in closer to him until he met her half way to kiss her on the nose. They shared a laugh at the childish display of affection before falling silent again.

"I'm gonna barf that was so cute," Coyote jeered sarcastically after a couple of seconds, making both Y/N and Bobby break out into laughter. Embarrassed laughter, but laughter all the same.

"Jake and Brad did the same thing two minutes ago -"

"We did not!"

"Bobby, they totally did. Didn't they?" Y/N urged with an evil smile, giving her boyfriend a wink to go along with it.

What was Bob going to do? Appease his girlfriend while teasing Hangman and Rooster at the same time? Or let the joke fall flat? His choice was easy.

"I saw it too. Where do you think I got the idea from? I learn all my moves from watching you guys."

Going with it too, Phoenix added, "I saw it too, I really did."

Soon, all of the other aviators joined in on the ribbing. Some of the jokes, most of which weren't even funny anymore, got big laughs and as a collective they'd managed to come up with a beat by beat version of how the pair finally overcame their struggles to become the Navy's most prestigious gay couple.

"Who would bottom?" Nat posed and everyone gave a suspicious glance at the two.

"Guys, do you even have to think about it?" Jake, who had given up trying to fight the joke at this point, playfully grimaced and gestured his thumb towards Brad.

"You would, asshole," Brad retorted, slapping Hangman's finger away.

"I would not."

"You would. And you'd be a bratty fucking bottom, I know that much."

Payback cheered, "All in favour of naming Hangman a bratty bottom, say aye," and raised his beer bottle. And everyone but Jake raised their drinks in agreement, so he gave in and raised his too.

"Fuck you guys."

To apologise for the teasing, Y/N promised to buy both guys a drink. Hangman came along to help her carry the bottles, not before winking at Bob to try and piss him off a bit, and leant on the bar as they waited.

"You're good for him, y'know. For Bedbreaker."

Jake had said it so softly that she'd almost didn't recognise his voice. But the fondness behind the words had been unmistakable. She smiled and nudged him with her shoulder.

"You think?"

"I know. When I first met Bobby-boy, he never joined in on the borderline offensive jokes we tell." His fingers tapped against the wood. "Don't tell him this, I'll kill you if you do, but he's kind of all I want to be in life. Funny, smart, kind, got a great girl, good job that he's great, probably the best, at - again, I'll murder you if you say one word of this."

She chuckled, but didn't say anything. She just waited for him to say what he needed to.

"It's nice. To see him happy like that. You get what I mean? Like when he looks at you, Y/N, you could see it in his eyes. It's not just love, you know? Pure unbridled affection, adoration, devotion. Whatever you want to fucking call it, it's real deep and real genuine... and reciprocated because you look at him in the exact same way."

A shy, small giggle graced her lips at the thought. She glanced over at Bob sitting at their table who was laughing at something Nat had said, before turning back to Jake.

Hangman gave her a smile, a real, genuine smile - a rare sight - before continuing, "I can see the white picket fence already. While you're buying a cat or pushing out a baby, I'll still be... leaving people hanging."

His eyes darkened with self loathing for a brief moment before he pulled himself and put that fake smirk of his back on as Penny returned with their drinks.

"You're a handsome guy, funny too, and if you were as open with any of your partners as you were just then, you'd get that white picket fence too," Y/N reassured him and began to walk away, only to look over her shoulder and add, "I do think you and Rooster would make a cute couple. I wasn't joking about that part."

Returning, Y/N took her place on Bob's lap and wrapped her arms around him and rested her chin on his shoulder. He looked at her questioningly. "You're tired aren't you?"

"Mmmhmmm. A little bit."

Bob gently squeezed Y/N's side before whispering into her ear, "Wanna go?" but she shook her head.

Rooster offered his lap again to Hangman to sit on, to which Hangman obliged with a smile and slipped onto Brad's thighs with surprising ease. This time he ensured he let himself relax into it without any awkwardness or hesitation. He even slid his arm around Bradley's shoulders because "It's more comfortable that way, bro."

The rest of the night went smoothly after that. Despite how tired she felt, Y/N felt herself nodding off. The alcohol and how warm Bob was just really made her eyes want to close. The gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath her was as intoxicating as the booze. It wasn't long before she'd fallen asleep in the crook of his neck.

So, Bob let her sleep there. In peace. He curled her even further into him and carried on with his conversations, albeit they'd become a little less rambunctious in an effort to not wake her, but they also started to dwindle out as the others slowly decided they should leave.

First to go was Fanboy as he said he'd some campaign planning for his DnD group to do and wanted an early morning to make sure it all got done. They all called him a nerd as he was awkwardly stepping over people to get out of the booth.

Payback's girlfriend wanted to facetime him before she went to bed so he left to go talk to her.

Harvard, Halo and Fritz all craved McDonald's after a couple of beers so they went to buy as many chicken nuggets as they could.

Phoenix had a lunch date with a girl she met at the gym so she wanted to ensure she had enough beauty sleep to woo that babe.

Coyote didn't want to be fifth wheeling.

"Hey darlin," Bob cooed as he ran his finger across Y/N's cheek to wake her up. Her eyes fluttered open and smiled at him sleepily. "Do you want me to carry you to the car or can you walk?"

"I can walk."

With a yawn, Y/N got to her feet, wobbling ever so slightly before righting herself and grabbing hold of his bicep tightly. Before leaving, she ruffled Jake's hair - who still hadn't got off Bradley despite the fact there was space for him to sit now - and called back, "See you later, lovebirds. Sorry I fell asleep."

Managing to stay awake on the journey home, Y/N kept kissing Bob's cheek, short and chaste pecks that were sloppy due to how tired she was, in an effort to keep her eyes open until they got back to her apartment.

"Up," Bob demanded as soon as they made it through the front door and lifted her into his arms. Her legs were around his waist in no time and her nose pressed against his cheek as he walked into the bedroom. "Shit."

All over the floor were the screws and planks of the unassembled bed.

"We'll have to sleep on the couch, is that okay?" he asked but didn't get a response. She'd already drifted back off.

Once he'd found the blanket that usually lay at the bottom of their bed, Bob lowered her to the sofa. He'd intended to get Y/N situated then go and get changed, yet she was still holding onto him so tightly, he wouldn't have been able to escape. It would've been evil, totally sinful to detach himself from her.

Instead, he gave in and let her drag him down to the cushions too and pulled her as far into him as possible as he lay beside her. At first, he tried kicking the blanket over both of their feet but it was no use. They were entangled enough that neither of them would get cold.

"Love you, my baby," he whispered and gave her a kiss on the forehead before closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.

[corroded-hellfire]

Eddie x girlfriend!Reader where Eddie reenacts the famous boxers dance scene from Risky Business and Reader walks in and catches him? So maybe he pulls her in and dances with her? It would be so so so cute 💚💚 xo @munson-blurbs 💚

Oh, you mean the scene from the Jonas Brothers music video? Anything for you, my Bug! Please enjoy this adorable nerdy man.

Words: 1.3k

Curled up on the couch in your home, you’ve got a cozy blanket on and your favorite book in your lap. It’s a nice quiet evening, your parents out to dinner with some old friends, and your boyfriend here to keep you company. He insisted that he could wash and dry the dishes himself, practically pushing you out of the kitchen. So, you've settled yourself here in your favorite spot. It wasn’t quite cold enough to get the fireplace going, so you’d settled for the teal knitted blanket hanging over the back of the couch. 

You hear footsteps down the hallway, near the kitchen at the back of the house. You expect to see Eddie pop in the room any second, but there just continue to be footfalls in that direction. There wasn’t anything else in the house over there other than your parents’ room. After a few moments, you know you hear Eddie’s footsteps coming your way. Until they halt. Putting your bookmark into your current page, you quit trying to reread the same page over for a fourth time and try to figure out what’s going on down the hall. There’s a soft click and it sounds like when you open the cabinet for your stereo system. The sound of a record slipping free catches your attention and you lean forward in your seat. The unmistakable sound of a record being loaded and the needle taking its place have you expecting to hear music any moment now. Relaxing back against your comfy seat and kicking up your feet on the coffee table, you’re proven to be right. 

Dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun 

Eddie slides into view, white socks letting him glide down the hardwood floor. His back is facing you, and normally you would be staring at his ass when you get this vantage point, but the pink button up shirt he’s wearing goes down far enough that you can only see the bottom of his boxers. Your dad’s pink button up shirt, you notice. Now all the footsteps make more sense. 

Dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun 

Eddie spins around, holding the spatula he must’ve cleaned after you used it to make dinner. He brings it up to his mouth, like a microphone, as the lyrics begin.

Just take those old records off the shelf

I'll sit and listen to 'em by myself

Today's music ain't got the same soul

I like that old time rock 'n' roll

Eddie saunters into the room, mouthing the words into his pseudo-microphone, taking his time in walking right past you, towards the fireplace. Your lips are pressed together so tightly in an effort not to laugh. But you can’t help but sneak out a giggle as Eddie stands at the fireplace, hips swaying back and forth. Your eyes are glued to his ass now, of course. 

Don't try to take me to a disco

You'll never even get me out on the floor

In ten minutes I'll be late for the door

I like that old time rock 'n' roll

Eddie drops the spatula mic on the fireplace mantle and snatches up the poker, holding it low across his hips as if he’s playing it like a guitar. He hops up on the coffee table, pale hairy legs supported by his socked feet on either side of it as he keeps up his faux musical performance. He strums his fake guitar, letting his hips gyrate a little before leaping off the table and landing down on the floor, on his knees. 

Still like that old time rock 'n' roll

That kind of music just soothes the soul

I reminisce about the days of old

With that old time rock 'n' roll (oh)

Eddie leans back, now bringing the poker up to his mouth in lieu of a microphone, tossing his head from side to side as he gets into the song. Stretching up on his knees, he continues lip synching until the verse ends. Letting the fire poker fall to the carpet, Eddie bounces to his feet and makes his way in your direction. Dropping down to the couch, Eddie starts to jolt his body all around, looking like he got tased. Amusement colors your eyes as you watch him, and he leans back to drop his head in your lap. You’ve barely had time to run your fingers through his bangs when he’s flipping around on to his stomach, still jerking his body about. Eddie presses a quick kiss to your thigh before pushing himself off the couch. He’s hopping on the balls of his feet as he reaches down for your hands, tugging on them. You relent, standing up to join whatever show your adorable boyfriend is putting on. 

Now, the guitar solo is drifting in from the stereo in the hall, and Eddie pops the pink collar on his shirt. You don’t have a button up shirt of your own, but you spot the flannel Eddie discarded before dinner hanging over the banister leading upstairs. Quick to strip yourself down to your bra and panties—both white, which are more appropriate for reenacting the movie scene rather than Eddie’s blue striped boxers—you kick your clothes behind the couch and go to grab Eddie’s flannel. The red and black material smells just like him, of weed and minty shampoo, making you consider stealing it from him. You button it up most of the way, leaving the few top ones open just like Eddie had. Now you’re both standing there in nothing but your underwear, socks, and a button up. 

Won't go to hear 'em play a tango

I'd rather hear some blues or funky old soul

There's only one sure way to get me to go

Start playing old time rock 'n' roll

Eddie grabs your hips and pulls your body against his, the two of you rocking your hips together, in time to the music. Holding one of his arms securely around your back, Eddie dips you down, causing you to squeal. He grins as he brings you back up again. You’re both laughing as you dance together, Eddie’s curls flying everywhere every time he starts to headbang. 

Call me a relic, call me what you will

Say I'm old-fashioned, say I'm over the hill

Today's music ain't got the same soul

I like that old time rock 'n' roll

The two of you jump and dance around with one another for the rest of the song, both of you out of breath by the time it ends. Laughing, you sling your arms around Eddie’s middle and bury your face in his neck. 

“Should I start calling you ‘Tom’ now?” you ask. “Or ‘Mr. Cruise?’”

“Only if I can call you ‘Ms. Jackson’ if I’m nasty.”

You huff a laugh against his skin. “Deal. Can't believe you’re wearing one of my dad’s shirts.”

“I know, right? It’s too fancy; making my skin crawl. Need my t-shirt back as soon as possible.”

“Or…” you drawl out, pointer finger tracing shapes just below his Adam’s apple. “You could ditch the shirt all together and we could get up to some risky business of our own?”

“It’s always a pleasure doing business with you, baby.” Eddie winks and you can’t help but roll your eyes. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you tell him, hands sliding up to rest on his shoulders. “And never let Nancy see you like this. She’ll steal you from me.”

“Like I’d dance this way for anyone but you,” Eddie scoffs, pulling you tighter against his body. “Or as if anyone could ever steal me away from you.”

“You’re better than the real Tom Cruise any day, baby,” you tell him. 

“Why, cause I’m like double his height?” Eddie smirks, and even though you swat him on the chest, you’re laughing. 

“You’re ridiculous, Eddie.”

“Maybe. But then you’re about to sleep with a ridiculous man.”

“I’m used to it by now,” you wink, and he puts on a faux scandalized face. 

“And to think, I gave my all out there on the stage tonight, performing for you.”

“Come on, Mr. Rock and Roll,” you say, dragging him towards the stairs. “Let’s see how well you do in performing for me in other areas tonight.”