#packing tape near me

[panamaxltd]

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[dressupdragonne]

I usually only post stylings and leave the talking to the tags, but I needed to get this out.

I'm so discouraged by the game here lately. I've contacted support several times about the crashes. I tried to make my entry this weekend 5 times and I never even got to the submit button. It was crashing mid styling. Sometimes before I even got to the sticker screen. My device is within their "requirements" for fluid game play. When I proved this to customer support they straight up went "oh we'lllet devs know of this issue" because they didn't have an counter argument against my device or its active storage at all.

My enjoyment in this game is dependent on me actually using the items I acquire. I'm not here for scores, I'm not here for competitive play, I'm here to make pretty pictures. And when I can't even make a casual styling outside of any competition entry or anything without the game crashing halfway through my efforts. What's the point of playing anymore?

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 15: Bonnie

Summary: Your heat is over and your pack has moved on with their lives, settling back into the familiar routine. Except, some things have begun to change, and you're not entirely sure if its for the better.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 7456 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, oral, handjobs, overstimulation, P in V sex, unprotected sex, creampie, hair pulling, switch Johnny, Johnny's lingerie kink, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, mention of nightmares, brief talk about killing and violence, insomnia, fluff, and of course a bit of angst

A/N: This chapter was an absolute bitch to write. I'm not kidding this was a nightmare. I'm happy with the changes I've made though, and how things are progressing. We've made a little bit of a time jump here, but not much. I think I'm getting sick so, posting the chapter before I inevitably pass out again. Oh, and Happy Easter everyone that celebrates.

Want early access to chapters, as well as other bonus content? Consider supporting me on Patreon.

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Your eyes fly open as the alarm blares. They burn as you squint against the bright phone light. An arm reaches over you, the warm skin sliding against your back as he fumbles to turn off the offending noise. 

You let out a quiet groan as you catch the numbers dictating the time on the screen before the phone is placed back on the nightstand. “‘S too early.” You grumble, rubbing at your crusty eyes. 

“Go back to sleep.” John murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder before he shifts, climbing over you to get out of the bed. He tucks the blankets back around you before slipping into the bathroom. 

You won't go back to sleep. The last time you'd glanced at the time on your phone had been two hours ago, at 2 A.M. You’ve been awake most of the night, as you have been the last couple nights. You haven't been sleeping well. It was like your heat opened a floodgate and now every time you close your eyes, you're transported back into the past, back when you were a child. Back when things weren't fine. 

You've started trying to avoid sleep, waking constantly during the night from nightmares or from your brain’s own fear of them starting back up. It’s only been a week since your heat ended, and yet you feel no more rested than you did coming out of it. Nothing you’ve tried has worked, not even staying awake until you inevitably pass out prevents your subconscious mind from pulling up the horrible memories of your past. 

Even sleeping next to your alpha hasn’t provided any comfort for your mind. His presence isn’t enough to quell the fear in your mind that the nightmares might come back, that the memories might surface. 

Even he can’t protect you from this. 

You close your eyes as the bathroom door opens again, pretending to sleep as John dresses for his morning workout. He’s quiet, near silent as he moves about the room. It’s almost terrifying how quiet they can be. Though, you suppose, if your survival depends on it, it’s a skill you’d spend plenty of time honing. 

John grabs his phone from the nightstand, running a gentle hand over your head before he leaves the room, closing the door quietly behind him. You lay there for a few minutes, trying not to let the guilt eat you alive. You should tell them you’re struggling to sleep, that your mind is plaguing you with memories from your past, but you’re afraid of what they might think of you. You’re not the perfect omega, you’re not as whole as you might seem. 

You’re held together with duct tape on the inside. They already have enough to worry about now, they don’t need the weight of your misery thrown on top of the loads they all carry. 

You let out a long breath, turning over in John’s bed. You press your face into the pillow, inhaling the imprint of his scent on the fabric. It’s still warm where he was laying, and you shuffle over into that spot, letting your body go lax as you imagine him still there with you, arms still wrapped around your body. You want to bury yourself in his arms, press against his chest until you sink into him and become one. 

Only then, perhaps you can feel safe enough to sleep. 

You press your face further into the pillow, every inhale filled with John’s scent. It lulls you into a daze, the hypnagogic stage between sleep and wakefulness. 

You jolt as a hand touches your arm, calluses smoothing over the bare skin. You blink your eyes open, letting out a quiet groan. It’s light outside now, the room bathed in white light instead of the yellow tinge of the nightlight John had bought for his room for you.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” John says, gently squeezing your arm. He’s already dressed for the day, hair still damp from the shower. You hadn’t even noticed he’d returned. 

You roll over, rubbing your eyes. “‘S fine. Didn’t even know I was asleep. Breakfast time?” 

John hums, leaning over you. “Almost. You’ve got time to get ready.” 

You blink up at him blearily, your mind still trying to wake up completely after your short nap. You stare up into his eyes, getting lost in their blue depths. You feel like you could swim in them, his deep earthy scent drawing forward memories of camping and swimming in the lake. Memories you could pretend were happy, memories not tainted by fear and grief. 

“Christ,” He breathes, pressing his lips to yours. “So fucking beautiful.” 

Your cheeks warm at his words, your lips moving against his as you kiss. You trail a hand up his arm, sliding it to his back. His shirt is soft, thin enough that you can feel the muscles in his back as you smooth your hand across his shoulder blades. 

“Wish I could stay here all day.” He murmurs, his face pressing into your throat. You tilt your head for him, a quiet groan rumbling through his chest at your sign of submission. He sighs, pressing his nose against your scent gland for a moment before he straightens back up. “Got a job to do.” 

You let out a groan as you stretch, arching your back. “Fuck your job.” 

“I’d much rather be fucking you.” He says, leaning down to nip at your bottom lip before he stands up, grabbing the shirt you’d worn to slip into his room last night off the floor. It’s one of his, one you’d stolen from his laundry hamper while he was in the shower. “Don’t let anyone hear you say that.” 

You grin, pushing the sheets down before sitting up on the edge of the bed. You rub your eyes tiredly, stretching again before pulling on his shirt, slipping your slippers on. You pad back to your room, changing into more appropriate clothes for breakfast. You’ll be left to your own devices again afterward as the guys return to their normal training schedule. You won’t be napping this time, though, you fear. Instead you’ll be looking for ways to keep yourself awake. 

You and John walk hand in hand to the mess. It’s been a while since you’ve been inside of it, and you find you’ve grown to miss it a bit. You don’t miss the stares, the looks that pass over you and your entwined hands as John leads you to the line to get food. It’s like they know, like they all somehow witnessed what had transpired over the last couple weeks, like they had all been spectators to it. 

John makes your tray for you again, carrying it to the table where the others are already seated. You take your normal spot next to Kyle, both him and John sitting closer to you than before. Perhaps they were picking up on your nervous energy, but even Johnny and Ghost seemed to be sitting closer. You cast a glance between them before digging into your tray. Something had transpired, but you’re not quite sure what. 

You might never get to know. 

It’s quiet as you eat, the coffee bitter and watery, but you don’t care. You’ll suffer anything that might give you a boost of energy to make it to lunch without falling asleep. 

Johnny walks you back to the barracks after breakfast is over, his arm around your waist as you take your time crossing the courtyard. He’s oddly quiet compared to how energetic he usually is this early in the morning. Something must have happened to make him silent. 

“Johnny?” You ask after a group of soldiers jog past behind you. 

He hums, looking down at you. His eyes are still bright, but his brows are slightly furrowed. 

“Is everything alright?” You ask carefully, not wanting to risk pushing any buttons. 

“Aye.” He answers after letting out a sigh. “Jus’ an incident in the gym this mornin’. Nothing ye need tae worry about.” 

You raise your brows at him, silently conveying your desire for more information, if he can give you any. 

“Just some alphas talkin’ shite, like they do. Callin’ ye the 141’s whore. Askin’ if we all take turns or if ye let us all go at once.” He says, his tone practically seething as he leads you into the barracks. “Simon reminded them of their place.” 

You can only imagine how that went. 

Despite their obvious tension at the jabs made at you by the other alphas, you don't feel as angry as you probably should. Being called a whore was a bit demeaning, but part of what was said wasn't entirely wrong. Perhaps it's just some leftover hormones surging from your heat, or maybe being claimed has shifted your feelings towards your packmates, but the idea of being shared by them has warmth spreading through you. The mental images piecing together in your mind of taking them all at once would probably make the alphas that made that jab at you blush furiously. 

“Johnny?” You ask, turning to him when you reach your door. 

“Aye?” He stares down at you, his blue eyes soft as they gaze down into your own. 

“I, uh, I wouldn’t mind if at least part of what they said was true...” You sink your teeth into your lip. “You...uh...you’ve been waiting for a while...for your turn.” 

He gulps, shifting slightly on his feet. You can’t tell if he’s nervous or excited or something in between. 

“Well, I’ve been officially cleared to partake in more...strenuous activities..” 

“Christ.” He breathes, crowding you against the door. For a moment you’re worried he might just do it right here, right now, but instead he leans in, close enough you can smell the coffee he had with his breakfast. “I’d love that, kitten.” He bites his own lip as he stares down at yours. “Let me know, and I’ll be ready for you.” He leans down, closing the short distance between you as he kisses you. 

You lean into him, kissing him back. It feels like the first time you kissed him, except you can feel the hunger, the restraint behind this kiss. You can feel how much he’s been holding back, how long he’s waited to finally have this moment. To think of anyone desiring you in such a way makes your head spin. He wants you for you, not what you can do for him, not what you can give to him. Not even just for what’s between your legs, even if that’s what you’re going to do. 

He wants to be with you because you’re you. He doesn’t have to, he could choose not to, but he does. 

He pulls away, staring down at you. His eyes are darker now, speaking promises of what’s to come. “When you’re ready, I’ll be waiting.” 

“You're tired.” 

You blink, your gaze snapping to his face. You had been drifting thoughtlessly, quite enamored with a single spot on the floor. You're not sure how long he let you stand there, empty-headed and practically dozing upright. 

You rub your eyes, trying to force your brain back to awareness. “It's early.” You give the excuse, toeing off your shoes. “Been a while since we've done this.”

“You're going to have to work extra hard to gain it all back.” Ghost says, pulling off his sweatshirt. 

Your eyes are immediately drawn to his arms, the strength in them, the tattoos on his skin. You bite back the desire to move closer, to get just a glimpse at one close up. You want to sit and trace them, hear the story of every single one. You want to push his sleeve up, watch the way his muscles bulge and flex, see how far his tattoo goes up his arm. 

You snap yourself out of your thoughts, moving onto the mat before you do something embarrassing like starting to drool. You watch him as he stands at the edge of the mat, brown eyes taking you in as you stand there. Something tickles in the back of your mind, a hint of fear, the sense of sudden danger prevalent. What would you do if he suddenly ran at you? Try to dodge and make it to the door? Where would you go? The med center again? 

“Easy.” He grumbles, sensing your obvious tension.

Your gaze snaps back to him, his posture relaxed as he stays still. “I'm putting a lot of trust in you.”

“I know.” He says, standing almost as still as a statue. You wonder how he can possibly be so still, but you suppose it's something he learned to do. “I should never have broken that trust in the first place.”

Your eyes widen, brows lifting as you stare at him. You didn't expect such a straightforward apology from him. You haven't really gotten one, until now. You hesitate as you stand there in silence, Ghost obviously waiting for your response. 

“I don't know if I can forgive you.” You finally say. 

“You shouldn't.” He shrugs, his gaze shifting to the wall behind you. “Even if you weren't really in danger, it was still a dick move.”

Your eyebrows raise even higher. “An apology and admitting you were a dick? Should I be worried?”

He huffs out a breath, shaking his head. “Consider it an offering of amicability, for Johnny. I know you two are getting close, so inevitably we're going to find ourselves around each other more often than we have previously.”

“Well, I suppose I could accept that.” You say, shifting on your feet. “I don't think you could convince Johnny otherwise.”

“Hardly. He wouldn't listen anyway.” He finally moves, shifting on his feet. “You gonna put your hackles down so I can approach?”

You take a deep breath, relaxing the tension in your body. You don't really have a reason to fear him, despite what he did. He hasn't given you a reason to fear him since then, and he's even gone so far as to apologize in his own way. John wouldn't have allowed this to start again if he didn't trust Ghost not to do something that might put you in danger. 

John trusts him, so you should be able to as well. 

Ghost slowly approaches, your eyes watching him carefully until he's directly in front of you. You stare up at him, holding his gaze. You wish you could see the rest of his face on the off chance it might give you a hint at what he's thinking and feeling. You wonder if that's partially why he wears the mask. 

Ghost holds out his hand and you place your own in his. It's so much bigger than yours, his long fingers engulfing your wrist as he wraps your hand. You could probably do it yourself by this point, but you like making him do it. You like the way his hands hold yours, the roughness of his skin against your own. 

He starts out reviewing things you already know. Punches, kicks, dodging. It doesn't take long for you to get back into the groove of things, moving like it hasn't been nearly a month since your last training session. You notice the fatigue faster than you had during your last session, but you expected that after almost a month, paired with your heat two weeks ago. 

“Now, punching and kicking will only get you so far in a fight.” He says, giving you a moment to breathe. “Almost all fights are going to end up on the ground. Even if your goal is disarming enough to escape, the chances of you and your opponent ending up on the ground is highly likely.” 

He swipes your feet out from under you before you can even blink, nearly knocking the wind from you as you land on the mat on your back. He’s on you quickly, dropping to his hands and knees over you. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him above you, his hulking form seeming even larger from this angle. Your mind begins to run wild, imagining all the things that could happen in this position. 

“Focus.” He grumbles, arms flexing as he presses his hands into the mat where they rest on either side of your head. “You don’t want to be in this position in a fight. You’re too vulnerable.” 

A shiver runs down your spine at his words. You are vulnerable like this. Even with him, someone who doesn’t want to hurt you, it would be so easy. Your head begins to turn, your gaze leaving his as instinct begins to take over. 

“No.” He snaps, gripping your chin to turn your head back so he’s looking in your eyes. “You do that in a fight, you’re not going to see the other side.” 

You gulp, trying to ignore the warmth of his fingers on your face, the firmness of his grip as he keeps you from showing submission to him. That’s not why you’re here. He’s right. If you do that in a fight, it’ll be over before you even have a chance to run. 

“Your legs are far stronger than your arms. Use them to your advantage.” He says, showing you how to get him into the right position to flip him. 

You know he’s helping you as you flip him onto his back. If he really was fighting you, you’re not sure you could have done it, even if you managed to land enough of a hit to disarm him. You wind up on top of him, sitting on his stomach. The position doesn’t help your racing thoughts, and you pray you can keep enough control over yourself so you don’t make it obvious. 

“Use your legs to pin my hands.” He directs you. You shift your knees slightly, trapping his hands against the mat. “Good.” He says, laying still under you. “You can’t hold a bigger opponent down here for long, but that’s not the point. This gives you a moment of opportunity to go for the face or the neck. Stun them and that gives you a headstart. If you have a weapon available, then you have one less person to worry about chasing you.” 

You gulp at his words. It hadn’t even crossed your mind during your training. He had said it so simply, so easily. You suppose it is to him, after years of doing it, after countless moments where it’s his life or theirs. Is that what he tells himself? Is that how he rationalizes it? Is there so much blood on his hands now that killing is as easy as breathing? 

You wonder how they all rationalize it. They all have blood on their hands, they all have killed, and will kill again. Every time they leave and come back, it’s with more blood, more nameless faces on the list of lives they've taken, all in the name of the greater good. 

Is violence and death really the path to the greater good? 

“What?” He asks, sensing your inner turmoil. 

You sit back on his stomach, your body rising and falling with his even breaths. “I don’t know if I could do it.” 

He tugs his hands from beneath your knees easily, resting them on the mat next to your legs. You can feel his fingers twitch as the blood rushes back into them. “You might not have much of a choice.” He says, holding your gaze. There’s a softness in his gaze you have never seen before. “Sometimes it’s the only choice. If they’re attacking you, they’re better off dead. Even if their goal is to take you alive, the things they’ll do to you.” He shakes his head. 

He’s speaking from experience. You know he’s seen things, witnessed the brutality omegas are subjected to at the hands of the worst kinds of alphas and betas. He’s watched omegas die in front of him while he’s sat helpless.

His hand lifts, cupping the back of your head to pull you down closer to his face. You catch yourself with your hands on either side of his head, fighting the urge to tense your shoulders. His hand doesn’t move from the back of your head, his fingers not even twitching as he holds you steady. 

“If they’re willing to do it to you, how many others have been on the receiving end? If you’re not willing to be the last, how many others will come after you?” He says, his gaze intense as he stares at you. “I hope you never have to, but you always have to prepare for the worst.” 

He holds you there for a breath, staring up into your eyes before he releases you, flipping you off of him and onto your back on the mat. He pushes himself up to stand, staring down at you as you lay there, catching your breath and thinking over the last few moments that transpired. 

“Come on. It’s almost time for breakfast.” 

It’s quiet in the rec room. The TV is off for once, only the hum of electricity and the occasional turning of a page the only sound breaking the silence. You and Ghost are the only two in the rec room, both of you relaxing silently as you read. He’s in the chair as usual, and you’re stretched out on the couch. 

You’re only halfway paying attention to your book, still thinking over your conversation with Johnny earlier, and what transpired in the gym during your training session yesterday. You know how much Johnny wants to be with you, and you're more than willing to go that far with him. You like Johnny, more than just as a packmate. It's hard not to fall for him with his confidence and his playful demeanor. You know he's been desperate to take things to the next level too. 

All he's waiting on is you saying the word. 

He will never force you into it. He'll impatiently wait for you to go to him, to tell him that you want it. All jokes and teasing aside, you know he'd never make you feel like you were being forced into something. 

The thought makes you want to cry. 

“Pull his hair.” Ghost’s voice cuts through the silence, nearly making you jump. 

You lower your book so you can see him, eyebrows raising in surprise at his words. “What?” 

“When you finally fuck Johnny, grab him by the mohawk. He likes it.” Ghost says, not even looking up from his own book. 

You stare at him wide-eyed, wondering for a moment if he can read minds, or if you’re just not quite as subtle as you think you’re being. 

“I'll, uh, keep that in mind.” You say, lifting your book again to hide your blushing face. 

The room descends into silence once more, the two of you continuing to read as if nothing had happened, as if that conversation hadn’t transpired. You wish it felt that way in your mind, though. The mental images Ghost’s words have drawn up drowning out the words on the pages that you’re trying to read. You’re trying not to get worked up further, but you can’t help it. After your training session and the thoughts that had come to mind with Ghost, and now these new images of Johnny, you’re sure your scent has begun to sweeten with arousal. 

You need to rectify this, and fast. 

You knock on the door, shifting nervously on your feet. Your hands have disappeared in your sleeves, the weight of your phone in your pocket the only thing keeping you from floating to the ceiling and dissipating into the air from the anxiety. 

Your stomach nearly drops from your body as the door swings open, Gaz standing there in his full glory. 

“Everything alright?” He asks, staring down at you with those big brown eyes. “You look nervous.”

You swallow the nerves, nodding in response. “Yeah, I just...wanted to talk to you for a minute.” 

He steps away from the door, brows still pinched in worry and confusion as he motions for you to enter. You brush past him as you step into his room, taking a look around. You haven't been in his room before. It's slightly smaller than yours and John's, and it doesn't have a private bathroom. There's artwork up on the walls, and a couple of plants on his desk, along with a few personal belongings. It's neat and tidy, not that you expected anything less. 

“What did you want to talk about?” He asks, turning to face you after closing the door. 

You take a deep breath, calming the nervous twist in your stomach. You shouldn’t be nervous. It’s a natural thing to bring up to packmates. You blame it on the fatigue from your lack of sleep putting you on edge.

“I wanted to ask you something.” You start, staring into his big brown eyes. They’re so beautiful, so expressive as they stare down at you. “Johnny and I...we’re going to...sleep together soon and...I just wanted to make sure that was okay? In case maybe you wanted to go first?” 

Kyle’s lips slowly lift up into a smile as you stare at him nervously, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “He’s been an absolute tosser since before your heat, and he’d only become utterly unbearable if he didn’t get to go first.” He steps up closer to you, grinning down at you. “For the sake of everyone’s sanity, I don’t mind being patient. Besides,” He leans down, his breath fanning your ear. “I at least know what you look like naked, so I can occupy myself while I wait.” 

Your face burns with warmth at his words, a shiver running down your spine. He’s not wrong. He’s seen you at your most vulnerable, lost to your heat, naked and stuffed with John’s knot. Your brain flashes back to the start of your heat, the feel of his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your pajama pants. You swallow thickly, meeting his gaze as he pulls back. 

“Enjoy your time with Johnny, love.” He slips his hand into yours, lifting it to his lips. He presses a soft kiss to your knuckles, lips brushing your skin as he speaks. “I’ll be here waiting for you when you’re ready.” 

You feel a bit out of breath as you leave Kyle’s room, and you’re sure your scent has sweetened with arousal and excitement. You might have been tempted to just jump Kyle’s bones right now, had it not been for your desire for Johnny, and your commitment to letting him be first again. You know Kyle’s right. You’d never hear the end of it if Johnny didn’t get the chance to be next in line. 

Now you just have to find him and tell him the good news. 

“Ye look nervous. Are ye nervous?” 

“I mean, this is a big step...” You say, wrapping your arms around Johnny’s neck as he shifts you into his lap. You try not to think about how strong he is, how easily he moves you. 

“Ye don’t have tae do this, if ye don’ want to.” He says, looking down into your eyes. 

“It’s not that...” You say, shifting in his lap. “It’s more...there’s no going back after this.” 

He wraps his arms tighter around you. “If I didnae want it, I wouldnae offer. Yer a fucking stunnin’ omega, kitten. Would be crazy not tae want ye.” 

Your cheeks warm at his words, your gaze dropping from the intensity of his own. His stubble tickles your fingers as you trace the line of his jaw, working your way towards his lips. His tongue darts out, wetting his bottom lip as your fingers trace the jagged scar on his chin. 

“Just...go easy on me? At least this first time?” You say, tracing his lips with your fingers. 

“‘Course, kitten.” He says, pressing a kiss to your fingertips. “Wouldnae want to scare ye away.” 

Your eyes widen slightly at the implications of his words, your stomach fluttering with excitement and a hint of fear at what he could possibly be alluding to. His hand lifts, gently grasping your chin, tilting your face slightly. He closes the distance between you, pressing his lips to yours. 

“Don’ worry.” He murmurs against your lips. “Take good care of ye.” 

You hum against his lips, tasting the chocolate he’d been snacking on when you sought him out as his tongue slips into your mouth. His hand leaves your chin, sliding down your throat to rest right at the base of your throat, fingers splayed across your clavicle. His thumb rests right on the edge of your mating mark, the pressure making you shiver. 

Johnny pulls you tighter against his chest, your arms wrapping around his neck. He moans against your lips as you shift against him, the bulge in his pants pressing against your ass. It’s not the first time you’ve felt it, but this time it’s different. This time you’re going to do something about it. 

“Fucking christ, take ye right here on this couch, if I’m not careful.” Johnny groans, nipping at your bottom lip. 

“Then best take me to bed, Sergeant.” You say, pulling back slightly to give him what you hope is a sultry look. 

The groan that’s pulled from his lips is downright salacious, something flashing in his eyes as you call him by his rank. He curses, tightening his hold around you before he stands, maneuvering you so you’re tossed over his shoulder. You let out a squeak of surprise that’s quickly replaced by giggles as he packs you down the hall to his room. 

He sets you on your feet once you're inside, closing the door. You look around his room, surprised to see it full of art supplies with drawings and paintings all over the walls. You stare open mouthed, taking it all in. It's messier than John and Kyle's rooms, though there's still a sense of order to it. A chaotic order, but you suppose that explains Johnny perfectly. 

“You draw?” You say, studying the art on the walls.

“Aye,” Johnny says, coming up behind you. “In my free time.”

“I didn't know that.” A small smile tugs at your lips. “They're beautiful.”  

“Thank ye, kitten.” He wraps his arms around you from behind, reminding you of why you came in here in the first place. “Not quite as beautiful as you.”

Your face warms at his compliment and you tilt your head back, staring up at him. “You're such a charmer.” 

“Try my best.” He grins, leaning down and kissing your forehead. “Promise I'll show ye my drawings later.”

You turn in his arms, wrapping your own around his neck. “I know. You're desperate.”

“Been waitin’ weeks for this, kitten.” He groans, grinding against you. 

He leans down, pressing his lips to yours. You tighten your grip around his neck, jumping into his arms. He manages to catch you, stumbling half a step back as his hands grip your thighs. You wrap your legs around his waist, lifting yourself so you’re face to face with him. 

“Christ.” He groans against your lips, walking forward until he reaches his bed.

He drops you on your back, your body bouncing on the mattress as he settles on his knees over you. His eyes have darkened as he stares down at you, your stomach twisting in excitement. Warmth has started to pool between your legs, your scent sweetening with arousal. 

Johnny’s hands are rough as they slip under your shirt, tugging it up over your head. He groans, eyes fluttering as he realizes you’re without a bra underneath. He curses quietly, something you can’t quite understand as his hands immediately close around your breasts. Your lips part as he squeezes the flesh in his hands, leaning down to take a nipple in his mouth. You gasp at the sensation as his lips close around the sensitive bud, suckling at it like he’s a man starved. 

Well, you suppose he is. 

He has been waiting for quite a while for this opportunity. Something about it makes your brain tingle, arousal pooling in your stomach at the thought of someone desiring you that much. 

It’s not just him, though. Three of the four members of your pack have expressed their desire for you in such a way. The thought makes your head spin. You’re just a simple omega, and yet, here they are going half crazy over you. 

Johnny releases your nipple with a pop, shifting so he can give the same attention to the other one. Arousal continues to pool between your legs, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. You drag your fingernails across the back of his neck, a shiver wracking through his body, his hips grinding down against your thigh. 

“Fuck,” He gasps, releasing your nipple to stare up at you.

You repeat the motion, dragging your fingers slower. His eyes roll back, hips grinding harder against your thigh. He’s so sensitive, you think, pushing your thigh up against him. He lets out what can only be described as almost a whine, rutting his hips against your leg. 

“Fuck,” He curses again, pushing himself back up onto his knees. “Tonight is about you, kitten.” He takes a deep breath before slipping his fingers under the waistband of your pants, tugging them down quickly and tossing them on the floor next to your shirt. 

He sinks his teeth into his lip as he stares down at your panties, one of the pairs he got you on your shopping trip before your date with John. You had changed into them specifically for Johnny, remembering how excited he’d looked when he bought you five pairs of the lacy garments. He groans quietly as he runs his fingers over your lace covered skin, slowly lowering his fingers between your thighs. He glances up at you, meeting his gaze and you give him a nod before his fingers dip lower, trailing the wet spot on the lacy fabric. 

You part your legs more for him as he rubs you through your panties, quiet moans leaving your lips at the feeling of the friction from the fabric. His eyes are still on you, glued to your face as the pleasure begins to build just from his touch. You buck your hips against his hand, searching out more. More pleasure, more of his touch, more of him. 

“Look at ye, needy little thing.” He groans, his thumb dragging up your slit until he finds your clit, slowly circling it through the fabric. “Barely touched ye an’ yer cunt’s already soakin’ yer skids. Fucking sweet little thing, so needy for me, aren’t ye?” 

You push yourself up onto your elbows, staring down at him. “Are you going to sit there and run your mouth all night, or are you going to fuck me?” 

He grins wickedly at you. “I’m just gettin’ started, kitten.” 

He leans down, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee before trailing kisses up your inner thigh. His thumb continues to stroke you through your panties, applying more and more pressure as he gets closer and closer to your center. He whispers out a curse as he shoves your panties to the side, revealing your glistening folds to him. He leans forward, warm breath fanning your slit before he closes his mouth around you. 

You gasp at the sensation, dropping back onto your back on the bed as he drags his tongue through your folds, flicking it across your clit before he closes his lips around the sensitive bud, suckling at it like he did your nipples earlier. Pleasure shoots through you as he eats you like a man starved, slurping away at your pussy obscenely. 

“Fuck, Johnny!” You gasp, legs trying to close around his head, but he holds your inner thighs, keeping them spread. 

You’re not going to last very long, not with him alternating between sucking at your clit and swirling his tongue around it like that. He’s done this before, and you can’t help the momentary spike of jealousy at the thought of him between any other omega’s thighs now that he has you. 

“Gonna cum!” You whine, hips bucking against his face. 

“Yeah? Gonna make a mess all over my face?” He groans. 

You curse, your back arching as he continues to work you up, hands fisting his sheets. 

“That’s it.” He groans against your clit, dragging his teeth over the sensitive bud. “Be a good omega for me.” 

You cum with a cry, soaking his chin as he continues to tease you. He laps at your juices, not slowing any as he works you through your orgasm, even as you begin to shake with overstimulation. 

“I-I can’t.” You gasp, the burning feeling starting to pulse through you as he continues to suck at your clit. It’s quickly becoming too much, the feeling overwhelming you. 

Ghost’s words flash through your mind at that moment, his suggestion yesterday while you both spent time in the rec room reading. You reach down, sinking your fingers into Johnny’s mohawk, gripping the short strands. He lets out a groan as you tug, pulling his face from your pussy finally. His chin is glistening with your release, his tongue darting out to lick your juices from his lips. 

He follows as you tug upwards, drawing him away from your pussy. He crawls up your body until you’re almost face to face, your fingers still tangled in his hair. 

“I said that’s enough.” You say, slightly breathless from your orgasm, but you put as much authority in your tone as you can manage. 

“Yes ma’am.” He practically whines, the muscles in his arms flexing as he sinks his own fingers into the sheets around you. 

The sudden shift in control has something buzzing in your brain, the back of your neck tingling. You’re an omega. You’re not supposed to be in control, and yet, here Johnny is, practically folding in front of you. A thrill shoots through your veins at the thought of what you could make him do, what lengths he’d go to for you simply because you have him in this position. 

“Take your clothes off.” You say, releasing his mohawk. 

He sits back without complaint, tugging his shirt over his head. You take him in, the hard lines of his muscles, the dark hair on his chest, the line disappearing under the waistband of his pants. You lick your lips as he undoes the button on his pants, undoing the zipper before tugging them down with his boxers. 

His cock is hard and practically standing at attention as he kicks his pants off. He’s slightly smaller than John, but not by much. Your pussy clenches at the thought of him inside you, but you’re not ready for that quite yet. You guide Johnny back up to your face, pressing your lips against his. You can taste yourself on him, making him groan as you lick into his mouth. 

You guide him onto his back, trading places with him. He settles beneath you, his hands lifting to your hips, but you push them back as you pull away. You smirk down at him for a moment before you move, changing your position so you’re facing away from him. You trap his hands against the bed with your legs like Ghost showed you, sitting yourself on his taut stomach. He has a clear view of your ass still sporting your lacy panties, your wet folds pressed against his skin. 

“Simon show ye that one?” He asks, flexing his hands under you. He could easily overpower you and free himself, but he doesn’t.

“Uh huh.” You say, wrapping your hand around his cock. 

“Hells bells, what are you two gettin’ into during trainin’?” He groans, obviously starting to picture the lewd things you and Ghost might be doing. You wonder how he’d react to seeing you on top of Ghost like you were yesterday. 

“He’s just teaching me how to defend myself.” You say, slowly pumping his cock. “I’m finding there’s not much of a difference between fucking and fighting.” 

Johnny lets out another groan, but you’re not sure if it’s because of your words, or your hand on his cock. You continue to pump his length, feeling the softness of him in your hand, squeezing gently to feel the vein running along the bottom side. Johnny lets out a choked groan, hands twitching again under your legs. 

“Fuck, I cannae last much longer.” He gasps desperately, his length twitching in your hand. 

Pearly white beads of precum have begun to slip from his tip, and you can’t help but lean down and drag your tongue across his head, gathering some in your mouth. He lets out a whine that rivals ones of your own, his hips bucking as he gets closer and closer to his own orgasm. 

“Please, kitten, let me cum inside ye.” He begs, pulling his hands free from underneath you so he can grip your hips. 

You pull away from his cock, sitting up on his stomach. He’s panting, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips. You shift yourself again, turning back around to face him. His eyes are hooded as he stares at you, pupils blown with lust. His lips are parted as he pants, sweat beading on his forehead from the strain of holding himself back. You push yourself back until you’re hovering over his cock, pulling your panties to the side with one hand, grabbing his length with the other. 

You groan as you sink down onto him, bracing yourself with a hand on his stomach as he stretches you open. His hands settle on your waist, squeezing your hips as you work yourself down his length. 

“Fuck,” You breathe, pressing your hands against his abs as you sink down completely onto his cock, your hips flush with his. 

“So fucking tight and warm,” He groans, his grip near bruising around your hips. “Fucking feel fantastic, kitten.” 

You slowly begin rocking your hips, using your hands on his stomach for leverage. Your toes are curling already from this angle, the tip of his cock brushing that spot deep inside you with every rock of your hips. Small whines and whimpers leave your lips as you fuck yourself on his cock, squeezing your legs around his hips. They’re shaking already, and you know you won’t last long in this position. 

Johnny seems to notice that as well, his grip on your hips tightening as he starts to guide your movements. You’re starting to sweat from the effort, your thighs burning, but it feels too good to stop. You’re getting close again, the stretch of him inside you paired with the high of having such control over him just a few moments ago driving you closer and closer to the edge. 

Johnny pushes himself up as your movements begin to slow, wrapping his arms around you to shift you in his lap, laying you down on the bed facing the footboard as he slots himself over you. He takes over, thrusting into you, setting a frantic pace. Your head falls back as he pounds into you, your back arching as he folds his body over yours, pressing his face into your neck. 

“Gonna cum for me? Need tae feel ye squeezing ‘round my cock.” He grunts, nipping at the skin of your throat. 

You let out a whimper, nails digging into his shoulders. “Just like that.” You pant, squeezing your legs around his hips. “Don’t stop!” 

“Yes, ma’am.” He groans, continuing to rut into you like your pussy is the only thing that can save his life. 

You practically see stars as you cum, squeezing around his cock as pleasure jolts through your body like electricity. Your hips buck against his, grinding together like some sort of forbidden dance as he’s forced into his own orgasm by your walls squeezing around him. His hips stutter before he stills, warmth spurting into you as he cums. You hold him there, his body trembling with yours as he groans into your throat. 

“Fucking hell.” He moans, starting to shallowly thrust into you. He’s still hard, his cock dragging through your sensitive walls as he continues to fuck you despite having just orgasmed. “Never gonnae tire of this sweet cunt.” 

He probably won’t, you think as he continues to slowly thrust into you again. 

You’re in for a long night. 

NEXT ->

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[plastmapleleaf]

[piastrinorris]

I Want Your Video

Pairing: Eddie Munson x f!Reader

Genre: smut

Tags: Stranger Things (series), 18+ (minors DNI), modern!au, unprotected sex (don't try this at home), oral (f receiving), fingering, heavy dirty talk, p in v, pulling out, overstimulation, mentions of anal, filming a sex tape, mentions of reader being cheated on

Summary: You had to make your ex pay for what he did, to you and his former fellow Hellfire party member. There's only one person that can truly help you with that.

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: Good news, gang! Turns out, I actually do remember how to write anything other than Busy Streets and Busy Lives!

Waving at Wayne as his car passes yours on his way out of the trailer park puts your mind at ease. That's one potential barrier out of the way. The other is whether or not your potential other party agrees to your little plan.

You didn't participate too much in your ex's Hellfire Club stuff because campaign time was campaign time only, and unless you were summoned to stand in for someone, you weren't a part of this story's main adventuring party. Nonetheless, you'd developed your own camaraderie with the group - especially the only regular female player. 

Which is why it was all the more heartbreaking to see the screenshots of your then-boyfriend's attempts to slide into her DMs. Watching him gaslight her into believing that she was misreading his messages as being flirtatious, despite them definitely being so, hurts enough. Your heart sinks to the floor when you see the photos he'd sent. You know pretty well what his own dick looks like and that's definitely what he sent her. Completely unsolicited. Judging by the timestamp and the sheets beneath him, he even took those while you were asleep next to him.

You needed to make him regret doing that for the rest of his pathetic little life. You needed to hit him where it would hurt most.

And so, you knock three times on Eddie Munson's door. He greets you warmly, but there's an air of sympathy to him. "Hey. Um, I just want you to know, right off the bat, that shitbag's never, ever setting foot near the table again. Next session, his character's getting killed off in the most humiliating way I can come up with, and I totally get if you don't want to, but we'd need a full-time stand-in -"

"I didn't come here to talk D&D, Eddie," you cut him off, and his brow furrows.

"Well, if it's emotional support you're after, then I'm sorry, sweetheart, I'm not of any use there."

"Not that, either," you shake your head. "I - I don't want anything to do with that asswipe ever again, but I still wanna make him pay." You start pacing the expanse across Eddie's living space. "I mean, sure, I dumped his ass, but he'll feel no remorse from that, he didn't care enough about me to stay loyal. I need to really stick a dent in his pride. I need it to come from someone he really admires." You look at Eddie hopefully.

He shrugs, "Sure, I'll teach that bastard a lesson. What do you have in mind?"

You take a deep breath in. "Well, if he's going to send dick pics without remorse… I was thinking… You and I go one better and send him a - a video. If that's okay with you."

Eddie feels as though all his Christmases have come at once. He'd always found it tough tearing his eyes away from you with your boyfriend mere feet away. He wanted to sucker-punch the sense back into him when he'd learned what your ex had done. But this? So much better.

Rubbing his jaw, Eddie nods. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, we can do that." He gestures for you to follow him to his room, which you do. "My phone, or yours?"

You contemplate, "Yours. It'll sting more coming from you."

Eddie nods, setting his phone on a surface close to the bed and setting up the right angle. "So, clothes already off, clothes on? Anything definitely off the table, or on it?"

"Clothes off, I want it to pack a punch the moment he hits play," you direct, and Eddie nods, throwing his shirt off. You knew there was more ink beyond his forearms, you'd seen little peekaboo moments of the artwork adorning his body, but seeing them all out in the open, as though he's an open sketchbook,  captivates you. He's obviously watching you stare at each one as he smugly swivels himself around to show you all of them at all angles. You continue, "Um, how do you feel about… Not wearing - I promise, the video will stop before any completion happens, I'm not here to get knocked up or anything," you quickly explain, to Eddie's amusement.

"Yeah, I'll fuck you raw." Something about the way he casually purrs that as a smirk tugs at the left corner of his lips sends a buzz through your nervous system that settles at your core. "Anything else?"

"Um… He never really liked… Going dow-"

"Oh my god, of course he didn't," Eddie interrupts. "But he'd have you -?" You nod. "Disgraceful."

"And even though I would always ask him to, he wouldn’t talk dirty to me. So maybe if he saw that in action?"

"Oh, fuck yes, doll, you are speaking my language," Eddie grins. "We talking praise, degrading, narration? How rough do you want me?"

"Honestly, go nuts. I'm all good for all of it. In terms of the talk… I'm good with any as long as it's not humiliating me, but the more possessive, the better." 

"Hmmm, you better get those clothes off and that camera started, baby, or else I might get ahead of myself." Eddie shuffles out of his jeans and palms himself over his boxers as he watches you strip to your underwear with great intent. 

You both silently agree to strip down your last layer at the same time, getting all of the awkwardness out of the way. You're in awe of his cock, stood of its own accord even before he starts stroking himself at the sight of you. You chew your lower lip as you watch in fascination and he grins, "You gonna at least hit record before I end up coming all over my hand?"

You hop onto Eddie's bed, feet swinging above the floor as you ask, "Where do you want me, Mr Director?"

Eddie glances over at his phone screen, smirks, and taps it before striding over to you, pulling you into position by your legs, and throwing one over his shoulder. Pushing the other one out, you realise to get a good angle of it for the camera, he sweeps his hair to one side and makes quick work of snaking his tongue inside of you. 

Your fingers card through his hair and grip tightly, and he hums with approval against your core as his nose nuzzles at your clit. "Is that good, baby?" he purrs between licks, and you nod. He surfaces, shaking his head. "Use your words, sweet thing."

You swallow hard. "Y-yeah, so good."

"Mmm, that's my good girl, doing as she's told, c'mere," he grips your thighs tightly as he laps back and forth at your clit. You sit yourself up at an angle to watch him yourself, the way he looks so lustfully as he goes to town on you. He blindly holds his hand up to you, wiggling two fingers specifically, and you take his wrist to aim them into your mouth. He moans as you suckle and lick his fingers, "Oh, fuck yeah, such an obedient little slut. Taste so good, and so good with your mouth, fuck, I can't wait to wear you around my fucking cock."

You whine, "Please?"

He chuckles, "Patience, sweetheart. I've a feeling you need to get stretched out before you can take me."

"You're so big," you moan wistfully as you fall back onto your elbows, and you feel Eddie's toothy grin press against you as he angles himself enough to slide two long fingers inside of you. He wraps his lips around your clit and sucks as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. Your hand grips his hair tighter and he moans delightfully around you. "Fuck, Eddie, feel so good, I can't - I need to -"

Eddie resurfaces to rest his head against your thigh, gently sinking his fingers into you and stretching them apart before pulling them out to do the same thing over and over again. "So soon, baby?" he croons. "Getting your sweet little cunt eaten gets you this fired up?" You nod, and while Eddie wants to scold you again for not speaking, he's enamoured by the face you make when you're turned on. Eyes half-lidded, lips shiny and just-parted, chest heaving. He hasn't even played with your tits, yet. Fuck, he's barely gotten started with you and you're already a mess under his hand. 

"Please?" is all you can think to say as his fingers curl inside you, making you mewl out loudly.

"Fussy girl wants to come already?" he asks in that crooning voice again, and you nod. Eddie pulls away from you entirely, grinning at your despair, and gets up to straddle you from behind, pressing an oddly gentle kiss to your forehead as he does so. Once he's sat with his legs draped either side of you and his chest flush against your back, he takes one of your breasts into his hand to massage it as the other hand reaches down to rub fast, deliberate circles against your clit. His lips press kisses all along your throat as you cry out for him. His voice is low, breathy, but still loud enough to be recorded as he asks, "Fuck, yes, who do you belong to, huh?"

"You, Eddie," you moan, turning your head to try and face him as you say it, feeling your orgasm start to build faster than you've ever been able to muster yourself.

"Mmm, and who does this pussy belong to?" he asks before sucking a big, dark bruise onto the base of your neck. He feels your neck start to crane again and hums an uh-uh against your skin, pulling his head up to purr into your ear, "Don't tell me, baby." He pulls his hand away from teasing at your nipples to squeeze your cheeks between his thumb and fingers, pushing your face around until you're facing his phone. "Tell him."

You look down the camera lens, moaning as Eddie sucks on your earlobe, the hand on your face now sliding down to wrap around your throat as the fingers on your clit work it faster. "It's all - shit, my pussy's all yours, Eddie. No- Nobody else makes it feel - this good, not even me, please," you falter into a plea at the end as you feel the crescendo looming.

"Damn right she belongs to me, and she wants me so bad, doesn't she?" His hand leaves your clit momentarily to dip down and coat his fingers in your thick juices. When he brings them up to your lips, the hand that had been so gently pushing against the pressure points in your throat falls to resume working your clit as you once again suck on his fingers. "Look at her, she's crying out for me, so desperate for it, can't wait to - to squeeze herself all over my thick cock as I fuck you the way you deserve, right? The way I've wanted to since I first saw you?" You make a small noise of intrigue around his fingers and Eddie chuckles, "That's right, sweetheart, but that's not why we're here, is it? We're here so you can come for me without me even needing to be inside you, aren't we? You're gonna show him what you really look like when you're satisfied, aren’t you?"

Still looking at Eddie's phone, your walls clench over absolutely nothing as your climax finally washes over you. Eddie continues to kiss and suck across your neck as he slows his attack on your clit and pushes the fingers in your mouth gently in and out as they muffle your moans.

"Fuck, yes, baby," he groans into your ear, "that was incredible."

Pulling down on his wrists until his fingers leave your mouth with a satisfying pop that you really hope the mic picked up, you lean back against Eddie and reach up to play with his hair. "Wanna watch me suck you off, now?" You ask with a coy grin.

Eddie bites his lip, "Any other time, absolutely. But right now, I need you sat on my dick and facing me so I can watch that pretty little face of yours as I make you cum over and over again. Why should he get all the fun of seeing that, huh?"

You squirm as you move yourself around to straddle him, pressing your forehead to his and mumbling, "You really ought to keep the dirty talk more believable, you know."

He frowns as his arms slide up and down your sides, cradling you, "You doubt my talents, sweetheart? You wound me."

"It takes an awful lot for me to get there, usually," you admit quietly, "even once."

"And look at you now," he smirks at the same volume. "Ready for me?" he asks as he reaches between you both to angle his cock away from where it rests against his torso. You nod eagerly, hovering up onto your knees and moving with him. Slightly louder, he grins, "I didn't hear you, ba- oh my fuck," he groans out as you sink down onto him without warning. "Oh, fussy girl can't wait, huh? God, you're fucking loving this dick, arent you, baby, huh?" he croons as he watches your face contort with pleasure as you lower yourself further and further until you're sat with him fully inside you.

With his arms wrapped tightly around you, and your hands on his shoulders to keep you in place, he leans in to kiss you openly, his tongue instantly seeking yours. You grind yourself against him while he's buried in you, moaning into the kiss at the feeling. "Fu-uuuck, Eddie," you moan. "Tell - tell me more - first time you saw -"

"Mmm, the first time I saw you?" he asks, reaching down between you again to rub your clit in gentle circles. "You walked in with him. Wearing a cute little dress, but you had a shirt on under it so I missed out on these," he gropes at your breasts. "Hmm, but fuck, I wanted you to stay. Wanted that cute little mouth sucking me off while he played just across the table. Wanted to feel that cute little ass of yours as I bent you over the table and fucking railed you."

You whine, "You wou- you'd fuck my ass?"

Eddie lets out his loudest moan yet, bucking up further into you. "Fuck, I didn't mean that, but if you'd let me, baby, any day of the fucking week. But I gotta take care of my pussy first, don't I? She's being so good to me," he purrs as he fucks you deeper. "I think - we've put on enough of a show, don't you?" he asks as he blindly reaches for his phone, angling it at both of your faces. "I don't think he deserves to watch you come over my dick. Say goodbye, sweetheart."

You look at the camera, smile coyly and turn to Eddie to lean in and bite his lower lip, both of you chorusing low chuckles to each other as he cranes his phone around to hit the stop button.

Reality crashes down on you as you realise it's all over now. That video was the reason you showed up. That was what he agreed to do. He notices your hesitation as he throws his phone aside and quickly swings you both around so that you now lay beneath him. You'd been so focused on making a good sex tape, you had barely paid attention to Eddie himself until now. Eyes blown black, his hair and his guitar pick chain dangling between the two of you, a light sheen of sweat showing against his dark ink. But by far the hottest thing of all about him was the sheer, primal hunger in his gaze.

"I hope you didn't think we were done yet, princess," he coos. "Now I get to really focus on you."

Not letting his gaze leave yours, he aims his cock inside of you once again, taking your hands in his and interlocking your fingers before fucking into you deeply.

Your back arches as he fills you, and you moan his name, to his delight. Before long, you're begging and whining again, your fingers clenching tighter against his. "Gonna come for me, baby? Fuck, tell me again, who owns you?"

"You - you do, Eddie," you moan, your hips squirming beneath him.

"Damn right, I do. Just like I said, I'll make you come over and over again. Do it, baby, come for me."

That euphoric feeling returns, but tenfold as you feel yourself tighten around his member. He slides it in and out of you gently as you work through your climax, but it's short lived as he climbs further onto the bed to line himself up with your chest, wrapping a wide, rough hand around his cock as he pumps it, sending warm spurts of thick cum flying against your breasts as he throws his head back and moans gutturally.

Looking down at yourself, then back up at him, you ask, exhausted, "G'me y'r phone, please."

He slowly hands it to you, confused, and you get up to kneel on the bed right in front of him, taking one of his hands and holding it up to your throat until he gets the hint to hold onto it himself, and then doing the same for the other arm, guiding it between your legs.

You swipe onto his camera, flip it to the front one, and set the phone down so that it only starts showing from your nose downwards, making sure that the bruises on your neck, and the cum on your chest aren't obscured. Setting a timer, you smile slyly as one photo takes. You take another with you biting your lip, and Eddie gets in on making sure you take one where he's kissing your neck amongst the hickey.

But Eddie lets go of your throat for a moment to switch the camera back to video mode, mutter in your ear, "You keep this right here, 'kay, baby?" and hit record right as the hand between your legs once again starts rubbing your clit with a lot more fervor than before.

Just as the timer starts recording, Eddie's grip around your throat tightens and you cry out silently, just about managing to squeak out a, "S-so - sensi- so much."

"I know it's sensitive, baby, that just means it'll be quick," Eddie promises, keeping his lips close to your ear, still in shot of the camera. "But I promised you, didn't I?" He drags two fingers across your drenched thighs, "After you already came for me, I promised it would happen again," he wipes one finger against your lower lip, "and again," he adds as he wipes the other there, too.

You groan, "Fuck, don't know - 'f I c'n take-"

Eddie shushes you, "Of course you can, baby. Your pussy's mine now, remember? And I already know her so well. Fuck, I can't wait to give you so much more. Did you mean it, sweetheart, when you asked me to fuck you in the ass someday?" You nod desperately, whining and keening against his touches. "Good, because I most certainly plan on having a lot of fun with my new cocksleeve. Have you be my new favourite after-gig tradition, where I get to go offstage and fill all your holes." You squirm against him, grinding your bare ass against him. "Mmm, afraid I'm not quite the free-use fucktoy you are, doll, that's not gonna work on me just yet," he drawls.

"Ple-ease, need to  need, fuck -"

"What's that, baby? You need to come again? Oh, but I thought it was so hard to get you there. Remember that when I send you this video and you watch it back, okay, sweetheart? Remember who makes you feel this good. Remember who fucking owns you."

"'s you, Eddie, fuck, I'm -" you scream out in ecstasy as a third orgasm travels entirely across your nervous system, filling your entire body with a high like you've never experienced before. With a grin, Eddie leans over to once again stop his recording and gently lay you down onto his bed. 

"Stay right here, okay, doll? Gonna get you all cleaned up."

You nod, mumbling, "Don't think - I can go anywhere else anyway."

Eddie chuckles under his breath, moving to kiss your forehead and then your lips before making his way to the bathroom.

He returns moments later with several warm, damp washcloths and fresh towels, and takes great care in mopping up your thighs and your chest, in major contrast from the Eddie you'd just experienced.

Once you're clean, he lays himself to curl up next to you on the bed and pull you in to spoon him, pulling his pillows down to where the two of you lay in the centre of the bed so he could place one under your head. You hum in happiness as he presses kisses to your shoulder. "You were fucking amazing, back there, sweetheart. A goddamn natural."

"Having such a good co-star certainly helped," you smirk back. 

"An', y'know. I don't want to put any pressure on you, 'cause what you're going through is a whole thing, but you know most of that was just talk for the camera, and that I see you as way more than a fucktoy, right?"

You pout, "So I'm not gonna be?"

He chuckles, kissing between your shoulder blades. "I didn't say that, did I? Just that… This is casual, and awesome, but I don't want you to think that I only did this to have sex. I did it to have it with you. And I'm down to be… Friends with benefits, fuck buddies, a rebound, whatever it is you need. 'Kay?"

You squeeze his arm around you a little tighter in thanks. You know you're certainly not ready for any kind of relationship again just yet. But who's to say that you can't have fun in the meantime? Maybe this goes further. Maybe it doesn't. All you know is, as you watch with glee as you watch Eddie send the first video to your ex, and then set his favourite of the photos you took as his home screen, you definitely made the right choice tonight.

[injuries-in-dust]

Captain’s log, number 197.

Well, it finally happened. They warned me it would when I took humans aboard, but I didn’t believe them.

The humans have threatened mutiny over an object they have pack-bonded with.

A few cycles ago, one of the humans placed ... decorative items ... what are they called? “googling eyes?” upon one of the maintanence drones. While against procedure, this seemed to be amusing to the humans and I let them have this bit of enrichment to their environment.

Last cycle another human, or perhaps the same one, I haven’t been able to get a clear answer on who did it, decided to expand upon this decoration with the addition of black bonding tape, cut into shapes the humans find very amusing.

See attached picture for clarity:

In another cycle we will be docking at space-station 114-Hartnell for our annual maintanence and reguation-compliance inspection. I need not say how we must be reguation compliant in order to maintain our trade lisence with the alliance.

This would, of course, include that all maintanence drones are kept up to code. So I ordered the humans to remove the decorations.

... I ...

...I have no words ...

Their reaction.

They named him.

It! I meant to say, they named it.

They stated, and I quote, “You will not touch one hair of Robert Floor-Buffington the third, captain, or there’ll be a problem!” 

They’ve made up stories! Robert Floor-Buffington, he’s a humble, but hard working space bot, who just wants to do right for his a robot wife, and robot children!

It’s a maintanence drone! Identical to the hundred other maintanence drones we have on board.

But the humans they’re insane!

They just will not be moved on this issue.

... Maybe I can pursuade them to just ensure this Robert Floor-Buffington is kept out of the inspectors way. We have a hundred identical models, surely they won’t notice that one is missing?

***Log paused for incoming message***

Captains log addendum.

Perhaps the inspectors will not notice four maintanence drones are missing.

The humans have decided to decorate three other drones and have taken to referring to them as the “wife and two children of Robert-Floor Buffington the third.”

At this time, there is a heated debate occuring in storage bay three over what the names of this robot family will be.

...

...

...

Additional. I have over two-hundred days of shore-leave accrued. I think I’ll be making good use of that in the near future.

[sinkovia]

Coffee Shop: III

Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

You work at a small cafe that Simon starts visiting when he’s not deployed.

Coffee Shop Masterlist

Simon became a regular at the cafe, and over the two weeks since he started coming in, you grew more comfortable with him. The small conversations flowed easily, and he often lightened the atmosphere with an awful joke. One of your favorites was about two goldfish in a tank.

As he sat in his usual spot, you heard the familiar tear of the napkin, watching him stick the flimsy little piece between the pages of his book and close it. As he got up from his seat, you couldn't resist questioning him.

“Why don’t you have any bookmarks?” shaking your head slightly as you observed the flimsy napkin flaying up and down with the book.

“Why would I spend money on bookmarks when there are free bookmarks right here,” he replied with a matter-of-fact tone, making you shake your head and laugh. “Right, well, have a nice day.”

After he left, you thought for a moment, looking at your bookmark. The idea struck you – why not bring in some paper, markers, and packing tape tomorrow? During your break, you could make bookmarks for him. It was a small gesture that you hoped would bring a smile to his face. 

When you got home, you eagerly packed your bag with small blank pieces of rectangular paper and your high-end markers. The art scissors and clear packing tape joined the mix as you prepared for the creative endeavor. Excitement filled you as you thought about surprising Simon with a proper bookmark.

Walking to work the next day, you felt a giddy anticipation. As he entered the cafe, he couldn't help but notice your extra liveliness, a departure from your usual demeanor. Approaching the register, he found a hot cup of tea already waiting for him.

"You were waiting on me?" he asked, and you responded with a smile and a nod. "Just thought it would be nice if your tea was already ready for you when you walked in," you explained, beaming up at him. Simon, in his typical fashion, decided to tease a bit.

"I actually wanted a green tea today." Your eyebrows raised, lips forming a small "o" of surprise. "I can get you a green tea—" you began, reaching for the cup, but Simon quickly pulled out money from his wallet.

"All jokes, love," he said, and you laughed, taking the bills and putting them in the register, closing it with a soft click. As the time passed slowly during your shift, you occupied yourself with various tasks like cleaning the coffee machine, sanitizing the counters, and refilling the sugar station, hoping to make it to your break sooner. Despite your efforts, only twenty minutes seemed to pass, and you decided to say fuck it since there were no customers coming in.

You grabbed your bag and walked over to Simon, taking the seat across from him at the small table. He looked up from his book, intrigued, as he watched you pull out colorful markers and paper. With bright eyes, you sat up in your chair.

“So what are some things you like?” Simon put his book down and crossed his arms over his chest.

“What’s the paper for?” You pulled out the bookmark from the book in your bag and slid it over to him. He grabbed it, holding it up and fighting back his smile at the small drawings of penguins near an ice globe fighting about communism.

“You want to make me a bookmark?”

“Yeah, it's so depressing looking at the flimsy excuse of a bookmark.” He smiled, looking at the napkin. “So what do you like? Stars? Dogs? Trees? Oh, wait! I have the perfect thing to draw.” 

Simon leaned back in the chair, sipping his tea, and watched you draw away, switching the color of the markers every so often. He found it cute the way you were concentrated on what was in front of you.

It only took you about five minutes, but when you were done, you held the bookmark up to Simon with a smile. He couldn't help but laugh as he grabbed it, examining all the little details you drew. It was the joke he had told you a few days ago.

Two goldfish are in a tank, one says to the other, you know how to drive this thing?

You drew two fish coming out of the top of an army tank, having a conversation with each other. You added them underwater and included little battle fish with helmets charging forward.

Your eyes lingered on his smile as he scanned over the drawing. Your heart warmed, knowing he liked it. You extended your hand, and he handed it back to you. Flipping it over, you looked at him, “What should be on the back?”

Simon thought it would be funny to tell you another joke. “What has two legs and bleeds?”

You thought for a moment, slightly humming to yourself. “A gunshot victim?”

“Half a dog.”

You blankly stared at him, then laughed, “You're awful for thinking of that.” He smiled and brought the cup up to his lips, taking a long sip. “You gonna draw it?”

“I’ll draw something better,” you said, smiling and already starting the drawing. You decided to draw a dog shooting a man. Giving the dog a suit and black sunglasses, you added a large assault rifle and made little bullets fly, piercing the man as he fell to the floor. You slid the final product over, and Simon let out an audible laugh. You couldn't hide the way your eyes locked onto his face.

"This is really good, y/n." You had never felt more proud, and you couldn't stop smiling even after he handed the bookmark back to you so you could put packing tape over it. Carefully cutting the extra tape that hung off the sides, you slid it back over to him.

Simon opened his book, took out the napkin, and replaced it with the bookmark, closing the book. "See, look how much better that looks."

"You're right." He looked up at you, holding your gaze, and you couldn't help but smile. The door opened, and you quickly got up, going behind the counter to take an order. After making the person's order, you walked back to Simon, sitting across from him again.

You took out another strip of paper, and you looked up at him, "Skulls." It was all he said, and you smiled, immediately getting to work. You drew little realistic skulls with blood oozing out of the eye sockets. Leaving some space in the middle, you drew a little grim reaper because Reaper and skulls go together, right?

"The reaper’s a nice touch." You smiled, finishing the last little details. "Thought you would like it."

You looked at the clock and cursed under your breath. Your break was over, and you had to get back to work. "Unfortunately, I have to get back to work. I’ll finish this side before you leave."

"Sounds good, love, and thank you for making them." You smiled as you put the markers and supplies back into your bag. "No need to thank me; I had fun drawing them."

As you stood behind the counter, you thought about what to draw on the other side. Glancing up at Simon, who was engrossed in his book, you decided he would be the perfect thing to put on the other side. You took your time drawing him, using different colors and creating a cute, colorful sketch of him sitting by the window, holding the cup to his lips as he looked down at a book. The drawing depicted a very warm scene, with small rays of sunshine through the window and added details on the table.

The small alarm on his watch went off, and he glanced at you doodling away. He pushed the off button and stayed in the seat, continuing to read until you were done drawing. You quickly cut the extra pieces of packing tape and walked over to him.

"Sorry, that took a bit longer than I expected." You handed him the bookmark, and as he took it, you heard your manager call you to the back.

"Shit, I have to go. Walk home safe." You turned and sped walked into the back towards the kitchen.

Simon turned, pushing the door open and flipping over the bookmark. His eyes grew a little wide upon seeing your drawing of him. No one had ever drawn him before, and the way you captured him so at peace with life and the things around him was something he never thought anyone could see. He felt something swirl deep in his chest, a warmth that enveloped his body despite it being winter. You drew in his watch and the torn napkin, even adding the six dollars he tipped you when he first went there. He smiled and couldn't stop staring at all the small details you added during his walk back home.

[g-xix]

🔞Boxer | Arthur Tv

context: Arthur used to box n i think that's LENG so here's a 1.2k blurb summary: Boxer!ArthurTV returning to the locker rooms after his fight to get the medical attention he needs from the first aider who's subsequently the coach's daughter... and the girl who makes Arthur's cock hard <3 | Boxer ATV x first aider, coach's daughter!reader CWs: very light smut, just dry humping and making out really

"Oh my God, Arthur!" You hissed his name as he attacked your neck, gasp falling from your lips as he ruthlessly sucked and bruised the flesh, completely remorseless with his near bruising grip of his still wrapped and bandaged hands on either of your hips.

"Please don't stop me, I literally haven't been able to fuck anything for weeks-"

You could feel the boxer's shorts tightening as the words fell from his lips, and you had to knot your fingers through his locks and pull him away from your neck to take the gumshield out of the desperate man's mouth and look over his face - having only just returned from the ring before rushing to you - scanning for injury.

"My God you look so fucking good when you're being all professional," Arthur groaned again as he took in the way that your eyes zipped across his face, lashes lengthened with mascara and plump lower lip taken between your lip as you inspected the boxer's face for injury.

He couldn't help himself pressing his lips to yours - throwing you off guard as he didn't waste a single moment by starting at level 0 and working his way up - no, his tongue slot between your lips and let you taste metal - blood - in your mouth from the boxer's cut gum, his tongue ravaging your mouth and taking your breath away as you found yourself falling into his tricks and wanting to entertain the kiss and contact with him. Thus, you had to pull back before you lost every shred of self-restraint and ended up letting him fuck you against the lockers right then and there.

"Arthur- my dad could come in any minute and see you!" You had to remind him, swatting his hands away from your hips despite your love for the way those long appendages sat across your skin, squeezing and rubbing over you with veins wrapping around the backs of his hands and making the prettiest sight as they ran up his thick forearms - densely packed with muscle that lead up to even thicker biceps - triceps - delts - 

You'd entertained yourself in biting the defined muscles time and time again behind closed doors, layering them with hickey after hickey which had Arthur's coach - your dad - telling him that "Whoever's giving you these needs to stop - you're only giving your opponent weak spots for them to target!" 

Arthur took great pleasure in knowing that his only weak spot was actually his coach's daughter - you - whenever you looked up at Arthur with those big eyes, batting your lashes and speaking with hushed tones as you dabbed his forehead with antiseptic and put bandages over his wounds.

His lips were bruised - sore from the punches that he'd taken to the his face - and yet even when they were pressed against yours, aching and shooting pain down his nerves as his bodily reflexes told him to stop - Arthur really couldn't get enough of the feeling of you, as that pain become a dulcet daydream in the back of his mind whilst he lost himself in making love to you.

He was truly desperate for you.

And whilst Arthur had been gracious enough to stop the attack on your face, giving you a moment to mop the cut on his brow and cut the tape into small enough strips to act as temporary stitches on top of the wound, the blood that'd rushed South had Arthur fostering a sizeable boner which he was impatient with getting sorted. You realised that the hard way (no pun intended), as the boxer rocked his hips into you - the bulge within his shorts slotting between your thighs and letting the head stimulate your clothed clit (though it was only covered by a thin pair of thin, material shorts) and all down your slit, whilst he himself rocked himself back and forth - groaning at the stimulation of your soft thighs enclosed around his sensitive hard'on.

"You are shameless," You muttered as you allowed his hands to grapple at your hips needily, stabilising himself by pinning yours hips to the locker-room wall. He really was like an animal that was in some sort of insatiable heat, as he continued the gentle assault whilst you tried to wipe away the blood across his temple. 

Your focus couldn't help but revert to the abs - glistening and tanned, still layered with a thin sheen of sweat that smelled of lust to you, and made you want to get on your knees and kiss over each and every abdominal muscle he'd worked so hard to foster within camp, before pulling off his shorts and taking him in your mouth whilst he ate you out.

You wanted to mark him up and have him in your mouth, your pussy, finishing on you, in you, for you and with you - and yet you had to groan and nestle your head into the crook of his neck to not escalate the situation and have him balls deep inside of you when you knew your Dad was in the next room - waiting for him to come out, bandaged and clean after having finished with you - the resident first-aider on duty.

"Hurry up, Arthur, they're getting these trophies ready - you need to come out and collect yours for the presentation!" Your Dad's voice called out from the next room, fist slamming against the door as a warning to hurry up. 

Arthur huffed from besides you. "Have I ever told you how much I hate your Dad?"

"Yep, every time he makes you do extra push-ups because he says you stare at me too much." You quipped, and again, Arthur just groaned and buried his head into the top of yours, smelling your fruity conditioner and vanilla body spray. 

"ARTHUR! How much longer?!" Your Dad yelled once more, angrier this time.

"COMING, coming!" Arthur called out in response, having to withdraw and tuck himself into the shorts he wore to disguise any signs of arousal when he received his trophy.

Although before Arthur could leave you - his hands still attached to your hips - he leant in, pressing his lips to your ears as his words came out a husky whisper, almost growl from the way he was so needy for you:

"You know where my dorm is, I swear to fuck if I don't find you there tonight I'm gonna make sure you can't walk for the next week."

And whilst you would've loved to have frustrated the man and have him brutally fucking you to fulfil his promise - you were of course waiting on Arthur's bed when he got back to his Uni dorm, wearing one of his workout tops that was well oversized on your frame, and wearing absolutely nothing underneath.

LONG TIME WITHOUT AN ATV FIC!! This is my apology xx... It's a lot shorter than the fics i try make but it's sm easier to write, so lmk - are these still okay to post pls and ty?? Anyways, regardless, hope you horny little freaks enjoyed this one xxx ALSO creds to @live-laugh-lenney for writing a boxer!atv smth smth which inspired this asw

Hope you enjoyed reading!! Feel free to interact- whether that be a comment, vote or follow! Requests open, feel free to submit what u wanna see... Much love!!

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[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddie-week.

Long Long Time

Day #3 - Prompt: Mutual Pining | Word Count: 1050 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Steve | Tags: Post S4, Eddie Munson Lives, Idiot 4 Idiot, Mutual Pining, Miscommunication, Platonic Stobin, Robin Knows What's Up

It's not one realization. It's several, over and over again. A steady falling, until he's in so deep, there's just nothing to be done about it. 

"Stop pining, dingus," Robin says, and Steve looks up at her and smiles.

"Impossible," he answers.

"Just tell him," she urges, and he shakes his head. Eddie isn't interested. He's made that pretty clear with the distance he's put between them. 

"Nah, that's not cool. He's getting ready to go," Steve says, "no reason to make it uncomfortable now."

"Dingus. No. Stop it. I can promise you Eddie is pining for you just as hard."

Steve shakes his head. He knows that's not true. Steve's tried all his best moves over the last two years, everything he knows, and has nothing to show for it, except a heart that's maybe not gonna be his anymore.

Steve sits on the floor of Wayne's house, and helps box tapes. Eddie's going. He's really leaving, and soon. 

And Steve's sure that's gonna hurt him for a long, long time. 

"So, what're your big plans for this summer, Harrington?" Eddie asks.

Missing you, Steve thinks, but doesn't say.

"Oh, I don't know. Hang out with Rob, I suppose. Find new jobs. You know we like to change it up every so often. Wreak havoc elsewhere."

Eddie laughs, and it makes Steve smile.

"You could come with me, you know," Eddie offers, but keeps looking down at the box he's packing. "Both of you. All of us."

It's not a real offer, Steve knows that. He knows he's supposed to say no, supposed to let Eddie go, without throwing an anchor around his neck. 

"Oh, you don't want that," Steve rebuffs, and Eddie looks up. "I'll cramp your style."

Eddie laughs, "Yeah, you know me. Party animal."

Steve grins, "You might become one. You won't want me tagging along for that."

"But, what if I do?" Eddie asks, and Steve looks up at him.

"Eddie," Steve says, trying to cut this off before he embarrasses himself.

"You're one of my best friends, and we could have fun together."

They could. Steve knows that's true. But he can't go live in an apartment with Eddie. Can't watch him spread his wings and date, right in front of Steve's face. That'd be too hard.

Even if part of Steve wants to say yes, desperately, just to cling onto anything that's being offered.

But he's trying to be better about that. Trying to grow, and shit.

He can only let his heart get trampled so many times, and he's nearing his limit. He definitely won't be able to survive it happening under Eddie's boot.

"C'mon, Steve. For me."

And that almost does it. He hates to deny anything that Eddie might want, but sometimes, you've got to save yourself first. Put on your own life preserver, then worry about everybody else. Robin's taught him that. Or, has at least tried to.

"I can't."

"Why? Robin? I said she can come, too!"

"Because we don't feel the same way about each other, Eddie!" Steve snaps, and Eddie turns into himself, immediately.

"Oh. Oh shit," Eddie says, "I didn't know you knew. Wow, that's embarrassing," he mutters, and it kind of makes Steve mad. 

"I'm not embarrassed. I can't help who I lov-. Like. Whatever. But I just can't torture myself, man. I want you to be happy, I do. And I'm the wrong guy for making that happen, obviously, so let's just leave it. While we're still friends."

Eddie's nodding, still packing, then he's suddenly frozen in place, "Wait. What? You make me the happiest."

"As a friend," Steve clarifies.

"Well, yeah. But, if you were into it, as more, too."

"Wait. What?" Steve asks, repeating the same thing Eddie had just said. This is gonna turn into Who's on First? if they aren't careful.

"I mean," Eddie says, shying away, "I know you aren't interested like that. But I still want you around."

Steve laughs, fucking cackles, like he's crazy. He feels crazy.

Was Robin right all along? Was Eddie doing the same kind of pining, and Steve just never noticed? Fuck.

They are both goddamn idiots, if that's the case.

"Well, don't laugh," Eddie says, and he sounds dejected.

"Wait, Eddie, hold up," Steve says, crawling across the carpet towards him, putting his hand on Eddie's forearm. "Do we have crossed wires here? Do you like me, like me? Like I like you?'

"You like me?" Eddie asks.

"Uh, yeah," Steve admits, "I have for a while, to be honest."

"Jesus H. Christ, we're idiots," Eddie says, pushing his hand into Steve's hair.

"Dinguses, if you ask Robin," Steve says, smiling, and Eddie's so close he could kiss him. 

Steve thinks he will, and leans in, where Eddie meets him halfway. Kissing him, and it's everything, more than Steve hoped it could ever be.

When Eddie pulls back he's smiling, eyes crinkled at the edges, fucking happy.

He looks thrilled, and Steve decides to go all in. In for a penny, in for a goddamn pound.

"I think I'm gonna love you for a long, long time," Steve whispers in a sing-songy way, because even as happy as Eddie looks right now, Steve's still scared his love won't be wanted.

But Eddie just grins even harder.

"What made you think of that song?" Eddie asks, eyes big and bright, almost shiny.

"You hum it all the time," Steve answers, "under your breath. Like it's soothing."

Eddie wraps his arms around Steve's neck, pulling him tighter. Harder. Closer. They're on their knees, so that kind of hurts, but Steve refuses to let him go as Eddie whispers, "It was my mom's favorite song. She'd sing it to me at night."

"Kind of a sad lullaby," Steve says, and Eddie smiles.

"I was kind of a sad little boy," Eddie admits, and Steve runs his hands up and down Eddie's back.

"Well," Steve says, pressing his lips to Eddie's briefly, "if you'll let me, I'm gonna make sure you're not a sad adult."

Eddie kisses him hard at that, and Steve really will. Even if it takes his whole damn life. 

"I'll definitely let you. For a long, long time," Eddie echoes, the beginnings of a promise.

And Steve will take that deal.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddie-week and follow along with the fun!t

The title is from the Linda Ronstadt song of the same name.

[momotonescreaming]

home

Rating: T | WC: 1.8k | Eddie & Wayne Munson Family, Angst, Hurt/Comfort [read on ao3]

“Hey, Wayne?” Eddie asks, looking over at Wayne, trying to keep his voice steady — although he’s sure his uncle heard the waver in his voice anyway. He always does. He’s the one person who knows him inside out and upside down. Every which way. “Can I talk to you?”

He clutches his book tighter in his hand, crumpling the pages, and Eddie finds himself not caring all that much. The gentle scratch of the paper under his hands grounds him, way more than the lumpy motel couch he’s sitting on does. It feels wrong. He feels wrong. Like he’s held together with string and rubber bands, one thread pulled and he’s about to fall apart. About to come tumbling to the ground, all tangled together.

Wayne’s always been good at knowing when Eddie feels like he’s falling apart. Knowing when to shore up the banks, when to wrap Eddie up in metaphorical duct tape until he can stitch himself together. He looks at Eddie from across the tiny living section of their motel room, slouched in an arm chair that doesn’t look anywhere near as comfortable as the one from their trailer. But it’s what they’ve got now.

“You already are,” Wayne retorts gruffly, the way he always does, but he folds down the newspaper and rests it in his lap. Gives Eddie his full attention. Like he can tell that this is going to be a bigger, more important conversation. They’ve been having a lot of those lately, after everything.

Wayne doesn’t say anything else, just lets the moment sit, and gives Eddie the space he needs to get the words out. He appreciates it. Wayne always knows when to push, and when to pull back. When to give Eddie space, and when to crowd him. Jeff’s gotten close, Steve as well now. But no one is as good at reading him as Wayne.

Everyone always thinks that Eddie always knows what to say. How to make himself loud. Heard. Understood. He’s the bard, a wordsmith, the Dungeon Master, the voice of the freaks and weirdos. Not many understand that sometimes Eddie needs the silence. Likes it, even. That he’s not always a bundle of energy and anticipation. Coiled up and ready to spring. Ready to spit and snarl and poke the bear. Antagonise the jocks and the popular kids.

He takes a deep breath, and fidgets with the dog-eared cover of his book. Picks at it with his nails, peeling back the colour. Scuffs his holey socks along the worn motel carpet. Looks up at his uncle, in his familiar blue jeans and flannel and feels his throat start to tighten. Chest clenching as he forces the words out.

“I, um,” Eddie starts, voice thick and wet and his voice wavers already. Can’t stop it this time. He knows what he wants to say — what he needs to say — and he doesn’t think it’s going to come out clear. He can’t hold it in anymore, but he’s scared of Wayne’s reaction. What he’ll say, what he’ll think. He’ll love him, Eddie knows this, but he can’t help the spiral of what if. His bottom lip wobbles, tightly quavering, and Wayne tilts his head as he listens. Gives Eddie space. “I don’t think I can do it anymore uncle Wayne. Stay in Hawkins. I don’t— I can’t— I can’t. They cleared my name and it’s like no one cares. I didn’t do anything but everyone still wants to kill me, uncle Wayne.”

He sat on the other side of the room to Wayne to give himself space. Room to breathe, to get the words out. But as soon as the words are out he regrets it. He’s on an island alone and he can’t do it anymore. The rubber bands snapping, his being falling to pieces.

Eddie’s barely left the motel room since he and Wayne moved into it. He isn’t even sure if the owner knows he’s here. If they think it’s just Wayne and the remainder of his life, all packed up in boxes. He made it out alive, physically fine and un-scarred, no longer wanted for murder. And yet. The first time he tried to go to Melvalds some man he didn’t know cornered him. Accused him of killing Chrissy, and Patrick, and paying off the cops to get away with it. Spitting vitriol and cursing his name. And then everytime he showed his face in public it was the same. Jeff invited him round, and he couldn’t even make it up Jeff’s driveway before one of his neighbours tried to chase him off with a literal pitchfork. And then everytime he went out after that was the same. Someone swearing, or yelling, or trying to kill him under the guise of justice.

He couldn’t do it anymore.

The tears bubble over, everything coming out in a deluge. There’s no going back now, Eddie doesn’t think he could handle that either. Face contorting as he cries, salty tears leaving tracks and trails down his face. He can feel it in the crease of his nose, trailing down into the corners of his mouth. He can taste the salt. Curling into himself, eyes shut, hands curling into fists as he presses them into his own face. Book falling to the floor, forgotten.

Eddie falls apart.

All he can hear is the blood rushing in his ears, his hitching breath and hiccoughing cries. He doesn’t hear Wayne get up, or say anything. But Eddie feels the couch cushions dip next to him, and feels a calloused hand brush across his shoulders. Grip him tight and pull him in. Eddie lets himself fall, body tilting, head spinning. Chest cracking open with every wailing cry, desperate and hurt and he just wants it to stop.

Wayne’s holding him, tucking him into his side like Eddie’s just a boy again. Like when he first took him in. Just a wee thing. Scared and hurt and angry and lashing out like a wild animal. Wayne whispering comforting nothings — I’m here, I’ve got you, just let it out, you’re safe, I’m here Eddie — voice gruff, but soft. Not angry. Never angry. The shape of his words, the gentle slope of his accent falling around him. Pushing past the rushing in his ears and soothing him, just a little. Just enough. Eddie clutching at the worn fabric of Wayne’s shirt, desperately anchoring himself to it as his uncle holds him. Hugs him. Gently rocking them in place on the lumpy motel couch as Eddie cries himself out.

He doesn’t know how long they stay like that. How long he cries, how long Wayne holds him. Until his tears start to slow, no longer feeling like he’s ripping his insides out with his angry cries. Throat tight, but no longer shredding his voice on the inhale.

Eddie doesn’t move, if anything he tries to make himself smaller. Tuck himself completely into Wayne’s side. Where he can feel the warmth of him press into his side, feel the beating of his steady heart, can sink into the comfort. He sniffles, feeling snotty and gross with a tear stricken face. Still clutching Wayne’s shirt, resisting the urge to bury his face in it. Listening to his uncle gently humming now, an achingly familiar tune as he helps draw Eddie back together.

“’m sorry uncle Wayne,” He murmurs, voice still thick and wet sounding. He feels pathetic. He sounds pathetic. And yet Wayne doesn’t move. Doesn’t let go. Doesn’t care that his grown-ass nephew is curled up like a kid.

“You ain’t got nothing to be sorry for, kid.” Wayne replies, voice steady as if it was an easy thing to say. As if Eddie wasn’t a burden to him. Eddie can feel him rest his head on his, and he shudders out a breath as he sinks into it. Still holding him close. “I’m always here for you. Always. That’s how this works.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, and he hates how wobbly his voice comes out. How weak. How cowardly. Seeking comfort, validation, reassurance.

“Yeah.” His uncle replies simply, running a hand up and down his shoulder in small comforting motions. It’s nice. The warmth, the weight, the reassuring presence of him. “So if you say you can’t be in Hawkins anymore, I’m askin’ you where’re we going.”

Oh.

Wayne’s words settle over him with the familiar gruff scratch and roll of his voice. Like gentle rain on the trailer roof. It’s soothing in an instant. Eddie’s voice still comes out small and wobbly as he replies. “We?”

“If you think I’m letting you out of my sight after this, boy, you’ve got another thing comin’.” Wayne simply says, that deadpan humour edge to his words rounding out the sounds. Lightening his tone. Eddie takes a breath. “So if you need to leave to feel safe, so do I.”

It’s only then that Eddie peels himself off of Wayne’s side, just enough that he can look at his uncle, at his face. Can read his expression and try to see what he’s feeling the way he does with him. Just sees straight through him.

Eddie feels like he has vertigo. Like he’s been punched in the face and is caught mid-recoil. Gripping Wayne’s arm, feeling the flannel under his fingers, trying to anchor himself again. He’s not sure it’s working.

“Wh— but— Hawkins is your home? Your whole life is here and you’d what — give that all up just for me?” Eddie asks, feeling a little like he’s been struck dumb as the words tumble out of his mouth. He sniffs, wiping at his face with his sleeve before continuing. “You don’t have to do that, I can get an apartment on my own, I’d be fine.”

Eddie’s voice wavers as soon as he says he’d be fine. He knows he’s lying but he has to say it. Has to push back. He loves his uncle, wants to live in the comfort of his embrace, but he can’t make him do that. He can’t. He can’t burden him like that. Not more than he already has.

His uncle clocks it immediately.

“Of course I would. You’re not forcin’ me, I’m offering.” Wayne says simply, face calm and open. “You’re my boy, Eddie. My kid. So if you feel safer movin’ out of Hawkins? If you feel better having me with you? Then we’re going together.”

“Oh.” Eddie replies, voice quiet, warmth blooming in his chest the way it always did when Wayne called him his boy, his kid. They both know it’s just one step removed my son.

“Yeah, oh. If you think I hold any kindness for a town that was so quick to vilify you, then you need a smack upside the head.” Wayne deadpans, tugging Eddie back into his side again and Eddie lets out a wet snort as he lets himself be pulled.  “Hawkins wasn’t home because of the trailer, or my job, or my friends. It was home because of you, Eddie.”

[beardedalcoholic]

Medical Emergency

‘Medical Emergency, Navigation 4, Medical Emergency, Navigation 4.’

The message repeated over and over across the PA system of the Leviathan Class exploratory ship. A massive space fairing vessel dedicated to finding the edge of creation and everything in between the Galactic Edge was a marvel of multi-species engineering.

Fifteen different habitats built to within micro-specifications for the species they were meant to hold, seven multi species common areas built to accommodate every race on board. Enough FTL drives to be able to be fired in succession so when one batch went down another could be brought online so they didn’t even have to stop for a cool down period between jumps. Recycling processes efficient within .0001% allowing near as possible full self-sustainability for an indefinite amount of time.

The main drawback of such a marvel of galactic traversal being of course…the FUCKING size…larger than some moons, a population numbering more than some planets (or at least it felt that way) and yet somehow never enough personnel in the right places at the right times.

‘Of course the emergency is right inside the border of my territory, because why wouldn’t it be? And of course, it had to be JUST as I was about to go off shift.’ Thought MD1 Joseph Jarl, JJ to anyone who wanted to continue a comfortable existence, after all no one knew how best to take someone apart than the ones who had to put others back together.

Running at full human speed JJ flew down the various passages dodging, spinning, ducking and jumping around the many obstacles in his way with all the predatory grace humans were gifted with.

‘Ha! and mom always said it was a waste for a doctor to learn parkour.’ 

Sliding on one hip beneath the centaur like body of a Gravelin engineer and popping back up to a full run JJ jumped and thrust one foot out to run alongside a bulkhead when he came to a T-section of corridor, narrowly missing the heads of a group of Ranki environmental scientists as he fell from the wall and rolled to maintain momentum.

Slamming a hand to the Medical Bypass Badge on his chest, signaling the door immediately in front of him to open JJ slid to a stop inside Nav.Bay 4 eyes flicking around the space looking for the emergency.

Sharp ocean blue eyes registered three different species, one of which still tensed when in direct line of sight of his forward-facing predatory gaze. Attention landing on a group of navigators clustered in a small huddle JJ slung the med-pack off his back and approached the group.

Head held high, shoulders wide and a purpose in his stride JJ projected every ounce of authority he could dredge up from his years as a medical professional he could when he ordered the group to back up and give him some space to work with. Approaching the center of the group JJ noticed the Elental on the floor, curled into a ball and rocking back and forth while making small pathetic whining sounds while very obviously having a hard time breathing.

Dropping to one knee in front of the one species on board that most closely resembled a human JJ slowly reached out and rested a hand on the Elental’s shoulder. Being a species that stood on average around 6.5-7 feet tall he barely had to reach to grasp the rocking figure’s shoulder.

Elental were a bipedal race with nearly translucent skin in direct light, long sharply pointed ears, eyes that stretched from the bridge of a dual slit nose to where the temple would be on a human with three pupils each, mostly human proportioned faces and a universally slender build.

It was a very little-known fact but the first time the human council met an Elental the lead diplomat was in fact recorded on official record as having muttered the phrase ‘Fuck me we found Space Elves’… though the actual audio recording of this moment was very deeply buried beneath as much galactic red tape as was possible. Noticing there was no response to his touch JJ turned to the closest navigator and asked for any details on the medical emergency.

“We don’t really know Human JJ, he was trying to determine some FTL jump coordinates and the timing required to make them when he started shaking and his speech became rapid and somewhat slurred, he began shaking and clutching his, well it would be the stomach on you, but his main pulmonary area and his respiration began to rapidly increase. When he tried to walk away from his station he collapsed and that was when we called the emergency, is he sick?” The Fenra asked nervously after the quick report on what happened.

JJ would never admit it but seeing a three-foot alien that looked like were-shitzu nervous and scared was absolutely adorable.

“I don’t think so no…hold on,” Quickly determining that there was no external injuries JJ tried raising the Elental’s head to look into his face but his patient seemed to be in a stubborn mood.

Taking a chance JJ reached into his pocket and pulled out a simple twentieth century zippo, an antique passed down in his family that he kept in working condition and never went anywhere without.

Flicking it open with a sharp, practiced snap JJ kept the grin off his face when the Elental’s gaze snapped up at the sudden sound. With a flick of his thumb JJ lit the lighter and held it directly between his eyes. The Elental’s six pupils swiveled and in a rather disconcerting motion…fused into a single large pupil for each eye the size of an Old Earth quarter, totally focused on the flame a mere six inches away.

“What is your name?” JJ asked slowly, in a deep and calm voice that witnesses would later report had a strange resonance to it.

“E-e-ekariel” The Elental responded with a slight stutter, eyes locked on the tiny flame as JJ slowly began to move it back and forth.

“Listen to my voice Ekariel, listen to nothing but my voice, focus on the sound of my words and know nothing but my words…What do you feel Ekariel, what is beneath you right now?” This question spoken in the same deep resonating voice.

“Tell me what is in the now, what is beneath you at this very moment.”

“Deck plates.” The answer came out in a somewhat hurried response.

“Describe the deck plates Ekariel, what are they made of?” The flame moved slowly from left to right and back again, never going further than the outer reaches of the human’s own eyes…left eye, right eye back to left and repeat.

“Cold, metal, textured in small waves, rigid.” Ekariels voice came slightly stronger, less breathless and wheezing.

“What do you see Ekariel, describe what your eyes are telling you.”

“Fire, small flame, glittering eyes, blue stars and black holes.”

“What do you smell Ekariel, describe what you smell in the immediate area around you?” JJ asked as he pitched his voice slightly lower and slowed the waving of the lighter marginally.

“Four species…Musk, fur, water…Otorian species fresh from the hydrosphere…Dust, heat, insects…Lidarians recently from the arid habitats…mold, plant decay, rain…Jaguras from the forest dome…pheromones, sweat, spice, disinfectant…human recently in the medical bay.” Ekariels breathing slowed and stabilized as he spoke, voice gaining slightly more strength.

“What do you hear Ekariel, tell me what sounds you hear in this moment.” The flame now slowly traversed from one pupil to the other, no faster than before but slowly closing in on the middle of the human’s face.

“Typing, I can hear digits impacting sensor boards to the right…scratching, someone is writing equations long hand for accuracy checks near the forward portion of the bay…breathing, so many breathing patterns.” The Elental’s eyes never wavered from the flame, slowly tracking it back and forth, voice becoming stronger, limbs no longer shaking as bad though still quivering slightly.

“Focus on the breathing Ekariel.”

Now the flame only traversed from the inner corner of JJ’s eyes, never moving faster or slower, JJ’s voice becoming slightly deeper, seeming to hum and resonate more from his chest than his throat or mouth.

“Listen to the breaths around you, feel the air move as it is taken in and expelled…smell the breaths of those around you, those who would look after you…now slowly block them out…block out all the breaths but your own…tell me about your breaths Ekariel.” The lighter now barely moved past the outer edges of JJ’s nose.

“Three respiratory voids…expanding and filtering contaminants from the air…nutrients being stripped from the atmosphere into the blood stream…collapsing and expelling by-products of respiration…oxygen, nitrogen, helium being removed from the system via respiration…” Ekariel’s voice now had an almost sleeping dream like quality to it, low and slow.

“Tell me about the heartbeats Ekariel…how many do you feel?” The flame was still now, directly between JJ’s eyes, the focused and unblinking eyes of a predator staring directly into Ekariel’s own dilated pupils.

“I can only feel one heart beat…I can only feel my own heart.”

“Come back to us Ekariel…focus on my voice and with every beat of your heart come back to us…with every beat, shed the fear that imprisoned you and follow my voice.” JJ slowly began to back away from Ekariel as spoke, incrementally rolling onto his haunches as the Elental followed the flame.

Slowly JJ closed the lid to his antique lighter snuffing the flame. As if waking from a deep sleep Ekariel blinked and shook his head, pupils splitting back into two sets of three and eyes widening.

“Easy, easy, Ekariel… focus on the now, sight, smell, touch, hearing focus on those. Come on lad breath in…out…in…out, there you go, no don’t get up…lay down and focus, gather your thoughts.” JJ slowly eased the Elantel down fully onto the deck plates and raised his reverse jointed knees as best he could.

“Ekariel I need you to listen to me, listen to my voice…are you listening?” Ekariel nodded his head, looking up a JJ with a slightly dazed look on his face.

“You had a panic attack E.K. logs show you haven’t had a sufficient rest period for three cycles and in that time your nutritional intake has sharply declined. You are suffering from lack of rest and negligence of sustenance. As such I am removing you from the duty roster for the next four cycles and requiring you to report to the Galley Watch for every normal meal time where you will eat AT A MINIMUM a full standard meal of no less than one and a half again the daily nutritional requirement for at least two cycles. You are barred from any areas or activities relating to the navigation or piloting of this vessel…basically you are going to take the next four cycles to eat food, sleep, relax and either work on or find a hobby.” JJ finished with a small smile at the oddly shell-shocked look on Ekariel’s face.

================================================

After having received JJ’s report on the medical emergency and that Ekariel would be fine with a few cycles of rest and full meals the captain instigated a mandatory rotation of extended rest periods lasting at least three cycles unless otherwise noted by a Corpsman.

On paper the decision was to help the training and cross training of individuals by exposing them to a variety of new positions for longer periods of time and to potentially familiarize more of the crew with the inner workings of other departments and areas of the ship. In reality it was so the entire crew could have a chance to catch their breath and actually enjoy it before being thrown back into high stress situations, they were going to be on this ship for quite a long time after all, no need to have them burn themselves out so early in the voyage.

[it-was-summer]

Video Killed the Radio Star - Tape #3 (Spencer Reid x Fem!reader)

A/N: I am exhausted this weekend so if at some point you feel like the writing shows that DON'T BE ALARMED. It is simply just me fighting back the urge to go to bed. The chapter does contain a good amount of sexual assault and violence so please, please, please be mindful of that while reading. I love all the comments here and Ao3, they make my day! I have also been noticing a lot of love towards the original of this series and I appreciate everyone for taking their time to read the remake! Please know that as of right now this thing IS NOT PROOFREAD I JUST NEED TO GET IT OUT! Stay safe, healthy, and happy! -Love, Em.

Video Killed the Radio Star Remake Masterlist

Link to the Ao3: Video Killed the Radio Star

Previous Chapter: Tape #2 > Next Chapter: Tape #4

WARNING: Cancer mentioned, sexual assault, blood, knife, cutting, mentions of death, death threats. Remember that you are not alone.

Tape Contents: Spencer and Derek are sent to discuss your abduction with Adeline. You fight back a sexual and physical attack from Heather. Heather reveals her plans for what will happen if anyone finds you.

Word Count: 4,029

March 5, 20XX

Spencer wasn’t too fond of hospitals, but he was fond of children. He interacted with them, loving that he could see how they processed information–new and old—every day. He loved Henry to bits, the way the kid was so willing to listen to Spencer’s ramblings or the way he was so amazed at a magic trick Spencer was doing. 

Sick kids were a tragically different story, not that he didn’t like them. He always felt like… well, he was having a hard time conceptualizing it as he weaved through the crowded lobby. The pediatrics oncology unit was too packed for his liking. Statistically, he knew that one in two hundred eighty-five children could be diagnosed with some form of cancer before they hit twenty. That didn’t mean he had to like weaving through a small crowd of parents, doctors, and nurses on the way to room two hundred thirty with Morgan. There it was –the words for that feeling– watching someone younger than himself not being able to experience life at thirty. 

After finding the friendship keychain, Hotch decided that Reid and Morgan should find your alleged ride-or-die, Adeline Smith. Meanwhile, Hotch and Prentiss would drive to Norfolk to talk to your mother. Rossi and JJ were handling some information with the police, so they were all paired away. 

Derek and he slipped into the hospital room that housed Adeline and her daughter, Nicole. His chest tightened involuntarily at the sight of a mother stroking her daughter’s head, a smile on both of their faces. Derek was quick to speak, “Excuse me,” The mother and daughter jumped at the noise, and their eyes snapped to the hospital room door. “I’m Special Agent Derek Morgan, and this is Doctor Spencer Reid. We just have some questions.” His hands dug into his jacket pocket to pull out the badge, muscle memory for both.

Adeline’s hand fell from her daughter's hairless head to her shoulder, her fingers giving it a light squeeze. “Questions regarding?” She asked with a curious expression as she stood up, a skeptical look in her eyes. 

Spencer’s eyes met Nicole’s for a second, a small smile rising to his lips, and she gave him a nervous smile right back. He moved his gaze over to Adeline, who was now standing with her arms folded across her chest as she waited for the two men to answer her question. Derek looked over his shoulder at Spencer, then back at Adeline. He gently motioned for her to follow him to a slightly more private area to talk to her, the two moving to a corner of the room near the bathroom.

“Were you aware that Y/N L/N was being stalked?” Derek’s voice was calm as Spencer approached Nicole’s bedside chair and sat in it awkwardly. 

Spencer motioned towards the girl’s stuffed animal, a bright orange cat that sat in between her legs. “I love cats,” he said in a soft voice. 

Nicole beamed at him, grabbed the stuffed cat, and happily petted the top of its head: “Me too! This is Bee.” 

“Bee? Do you like Bees?” 

Adeline’s eyes strayed to Spencer's conversation with her daughter, and she nodded a little at Derek’s question: “We talked about it. She went to the police.” She said, a little numbly, before her head suddenly snapped towards him. “Why?” 

“She was taken from her apartment on March third. She recorded videos for the police to send to us, the Behavioral Analysis Unit, to help find her.” Derek explained gently as he watched Adeline’s face go pale. 

Adeline grabbed her clothed chest and searched for a breath, her eyes wild as she looked at Derek’s face. Her eyes began searching for some hint in his face that he was lying, but she found none. She couldn’t stop the tears that were filling her waterline, and she turned her body away from her daughter and Spencer in a desperate attempt to hide her tears from her daughter. Her knees felt weak as she tried to breathe. 

Spencer glanced back at Adeline and Derek, scooting a little to obstruct Nicole’s field of vision. He didn’t want the young girl to see her mother cry. Nicole shook her head slightly at his question, “No, not really. Auntie Y/N got her for me, and she loves bees.” She laughed softly, her words making Spencer’s heart melt a little. 

“Is Bee your favorite?” 

The girl covered the cat’s plush ears and smiled like she had a secret. “No, but she is my second favorite.” Her fingers scratched the stuffed animal’s ears gently. “Mr. Business is my first,” she whispered to him. 

“Ah, and where is Mr. Business?” His eyes searched her hospital bed, and then he spotted a stuffed cat, a tuxedo cat. He grinned a little, and he motioned to the stuffed animal with his eyes, “Mr. Business is a very fitting name, I think,” 

Adeline held out a hand for some space from Derek, and the hand clutching her chest came up to her mouth as she tried to keep from vomiting all over him. She had been stuck in this hospital when you had called her that first night. Having always loved talking to you, she answered enthusiastically. Still, the more she listened to the situation, the more she realized she didn’t have the emotional strength to comfort you the way you needed. And she said that to you. She said that to you. She couldn’t help you then, and she couldn’t help you now. She couldn’t even help her own daughter. 

A sob rose in her throat, and she shook her head rapidly. “No, no, no, we talked on that day. Th-That night,” She recounted softly to Derek through her tears. 

“What did you talk about?” Derek whispered the question softly as his eyes searched the room for some tissues, but his search was futile. He places a gentle hand on Adeline’s shoulder instead. 

“We talked about college; she wanted her mind off of things, so we talked about our apartment when we were in grad school. It’s been two days! What have you been doing for two days while my best friend went missing?” Her cheeks were red, her fingers pointing accusingly at him before she sobbed softly, and her hand was moving back up to wrap around her mouth to muffle the sound. 

“She didn’t show up to work on March fifth. That's when she was reported missing. We’re doing everything we can. What time did the two of you talk?” 

“W-we talked around nine, maybe nine-thirty?” She whispered back softly before she started to breathe heavily again. “Why didn’t I call? I should have called again. It was getting so late, and she had locked all the doors, and I thought she was just being anxious. I should have called her again. I should have left the hospital to visit her.” Her mind was spiraling, the neverending rabbit hole that showed her all the ways she could have saved her best friend, unhinged its proverbial jaw and swallowed her whole, ready to digest.  

Morgan wasn’t necessarily new to the information, as Penelope had already told him about your call logs from that evening, but he always liked to hear it be confirmed. It also helped him place an estimate of the time of your abduction. “Could you tell me about anyone, anyone at all, that might have been a little too into Y/N? Any ex-boyfriends that refused to leave her alone? Did she break up with anyone around Christmas?” 

“No, she hasn’t dated anyone for almost a year.” Adeline sighed thickly and shook her head as she tried to calm down. “No, all her ex-boyfriends, they were always so mousy. ” She sighed, “And they always look alike,” she paused and gave a soft, sad chuckle, motioning over to where Spencer was as he continued to entertain her daughter. “Well, they all look like your Doctor friend, if I’m being honest. She’s always been too nice for her own good, even in college.”

Spencer tried to talk over the sobs that could be heard from the corner of the hospital room, clearing his throat or laughing as Nicole stumbled through a story. “She’s a loud crier,�� Nicole whispered with a gentle pat on Bee’s head. 

Spencer frowned as his efforts failed him, and he looked over his shoulder at Morgan, who was looking at him with a similarly sympathetic look on his face. He was about to say something when Nicole shoved Bee toward him, “You should give this to Auntie Y/N. Mommy said she was sad the other day. Bee always helps.” 

Spencer turned the stuffed animal over in his hands, and he debated telling her the truth, but thankfully, his better judgment decided against it. “It’ll be the first thing I do when I see her,” Spencer promised softly as Nicole smiled wide at him. 

As Derek and he walked out of the hospital, Derek’s eyes stayed on the stuffed orange cat in Spencer’s hands. As they pushed past a small group of people, Spencer found himself almost slamming into a pretty nurse, a gorgeous nurse. Her blue eyes blinked as she shuffled to one side, only to be unintentionally blocked by Spencer once more. She sighed a little and gave him a once over with a frown. Her eyes lingered on the gun holstered against his hip before she gave him a polite smile and said, “Excuse me,” and slipped past the two men with a determined look in her eyes.  

Derek only said something when they got into the parking lot, the two of them walking to the black SUV, “Did you pick one up at the gift shop?” 

Spencer groaned softly, making Derek chuckle as he walked around the car’s front to the passenger seat. “Open the door,” He said bluntly. When they were both inside the car, Spencer carefully placed the stuffed animal in his bag, and Derek chuckled again at the sight, turning the key. 

“You didn’t even buy me one,” 

March 5, 20XX

You were assuming Heather was angry with you. The assumption wasn’t baseless as the hunger in your stomach growled. You were quick to find that the harmony between a full stomach and morphine did matter and that harmony had left you many hours prior. You also were basing the assumption as you had spent what must have been a whole day fighting off tears and nausea. 

The sick part was that you were beginning to get used to how your body got swarmed with heavy, hot, and benevolent warmth. The dull pain in your ankle was silenced under the warmth’s blanket of kindness. It reminded you of a heated blanket in a strange way. 

You had finished the sips of your water before falling asleep and regretting it. You had learned that the bucket off to the side of the dresser was the perfect distance from the bed. Your broken ankle was dragging against the carpet with every movement.  The chain around your good ankle didn’t snag as you sluggishly managed to hold your body up against the wall to pee into the bucket.

Once you were done, you hopped on your good leg and managed to pull your clothes back on. Your body fell face-first onto the bed, eliciting a soft groan from your lips as you found your body reluctant to move from its new home. 

You closed your eyes and fell into the position, letting the bed sink in deeper. Your eyes snapped open with a sense of alertness that you hadn’t felt in hours as you heard the first click of a lock. Your arms weakly managed to push yourself up into a sitting position, pushing yourself back to your former position against the headboard. Your head throbbed at the fast movement, and your vision blurred as you tried to focus on the door. 

When it slowly opened, you sucked in a small breath of air, watching as Heather slid into the room with a tray of food. “Hello, my Catherine.” She sighed as she shoved the keys into her scrub pocket with one balanced hand. “My, my, someone is looking pale today.” She asked as she sat down in the chair off the side of the bed with a gentle, pretty smile. 

You nodded a little. Your lips were numb as you licked them. “What day is it?” Your voice came out quiet and strangled. 

“Monday,” She stated simply as she twisted the top off a bottle of apple juice. She handed it over to your already waiting hands before she carefully lowered the morphine drip’s intake level. You greedily drank the juice without thinking twice, desperate to get something in your stomach. 

You panted lightly as you pulled the half-empty bottle away from your lips, “Th-the date, I mean,” 

“March fifth,” She rolled her eyes as she carefully rearranged a neatly made turkey sandwich on a paper plate, slowly placing the plate on the edge of the bed for you to take. “You moved in here early Saturday morning, don’t you remember?” she laughed out like it was the silliest thing she had ever heard. 

You felt your mouth start to move to correct her, to tell her that you didn’t move in; she had kidnapped you. But as you stared at the turkey sandwich on the edge of the bed, you realized that playing along would be better. Playing along meant more food and less nausea. Playing along meant living longer. “Right,” You said breathlessly as you pulled the paper plate to your lap. “How could I forget?” 

Heather smiled a little as she watched you bite into the sandwich, happy to see you adjusting. You were eating so fast that she was a little worried about your empty stomach. She didn’t want to make feeding you so sporadically a habit. But yesterday, when she came up with a food tray, she thought about your rudeness and how cruel you had been to her. It made her stomach twist into angry knots. She decided that not feeding you for a day would be a lesson.

“I’m so happy our first fight is over. I hate to be angry with you, Catherine.” Heather’s sweet tone wasn’t lost on you as she touched your arm gently. Your chewing slowed for a second before you swallowed, your eyes glued to her hand on your arm. 

“I picked out every gift just for you,” She sighed softly as she traced soft circles against your skin. You fought back the urge to pull your arm away. “You’re a hopeless romantic, you know? You remember in college when you and Adeline dressed up as Lizzie and Jane Bennet. No one got it but god,” She sighed, her eyes finding yours as you stayed frozen. 

The hand on your arm slowly reached for the paper plate on your lap. Your fingers twitched a little as you fought back the urge to grab the food as she placed the plate on the nightstand beside your bed. Everything was happening so fast and yet incredibly slow at the same time.

Then she stood up and crawled onto the bed, swinging one leg over your lap before stranding you with a white smile. Her hands came to cup your face and tilt it up. A soft sigh fell from her lips. “You’ve always been brilliant,” 

You shook your head in her hands lightly. The warmth of the morphine was slow to leave your body, but as your body filled with an intense feeling of dread, you could feel everything. Your ankle throbbed sharply, and you were starting to feel like you were about to be sick again. “I’m not,” 

Heather threw her head back and laughed as if it was the funniest thing she had ever heard. When she lowered her head to meet your gaze again, she leaned closer, one of her thumbs reaching up to trace your bottom lip. You cringed a little at the feeling, a sight that she ignored. “You’ve always been so humble, too. How did I get so lucky?” She whispered as she leaned in to kiss your lips softly. 

You felt your lips tighten and bile rise to your throat, and you swallowed it. You let her kiss you once, then twice, then a third time. Your lips stayed closed in a tight line as you tried to imagine yourself in a different position, but with every touch Heather placed on you, the more you stayed cemented in your reality. 

Heather pulled back with a look in her eyes that you could recognize as crazed lust. You didn’t want to. You didn’t want to know what her hands felt like anymore. You bit your lip to silence a whimper. Her hands pulled roughly at your shirt as she grabbed the hem of it and pulled it over your head with a simple yank. 

You shook your head quickly now, “No, Heather, I-I’m not ready. I don’t-” 

She shushed you softly with a gentle smile as she traced the swell of your breast slowly, the touch eliciting your tears to pool over your waterline. “I know you’re worried, but I’m going to take care of you, I promise.” Her eyes lingered on the prominent bruise on the center of your chest. She frowned, leaning down carefully to kiss the blue and black patch of skin. 

“No,” You cried softly, your voice soft before you decided that you couldn’t take it anymore. “No!” You yelled, causing her back to straighten and sit up. 

“I’m sorry?” She asked with a soft scoff. 

“I-I can’t do it, I’m not ready. I don’t want to, Heather. Please don’t make me.” You begged softly as tears rolled down your face. “I’ll try next time, I promise. I just, please, please don’t make me.” 

Heather frowned a little before she let out a harsh laugh, her arms folding over her chest tightly. She looked down at you, “You know I saw your precious little Adeline today,” 

You felt your back tense at Adeline's mention, “What? I thought you worked in pediatrics, not pediatric oncology. W-why did you see Adeline?” 

Heather reached out a hand to press on your bruise roughly, the feeling making you wince. “I work in pediatric oncology. Sometimes, I help Nicole. I loved it when you visited her at the hospital. It was almost too easy to steal the copy of your apartment key from Adeline. She doesn’t love you as much as I love you, you know that, right?” 

You shook your head, and you cried harder as you realized that you had never even noticed her at the hospital. Your focus has always been so zoned in on Nicole or Adeline that you didn’t even register Heather’s presence. Would Adeline remember Heather? You doubted it. 

“She talked to some agents or something and was inconsolable. Fucking useless friend of yours. Anyway, I ran into them in the hallway. Scrawny kid with some buff guy, I’m sure Adeline called them.” 

You found your hands grabbing her hand on your chest and shook your head side-to-side. “No, Adeline doesn’t know. I didn’t tell her anything. I didn’t, I promise.” 

Heather’s eyes met yours briefly before they trailed down to your bare chest and your hands holding onto her wrist. “Say you love me more than her then,” 

“I-I, what?” 

“Say it.” 

You opened your mouth, but all that came out were gentle sobs as you tried to form the words, terrified that she was about to do something to Adeline. The thought of Heather hurting Adeline had you gasping softly for air. 

Her eyes were on yours again as you panted softly, “You don’t love me?” Her spit hit your cheek as she hissed the words in rageful disbelief. She was off your lap in seconds as she moved to the dresser and quickly pulled out a small pairing knife. 

“Wait,” You cried softly as you tried to hurry away from her, making a vain attempt to get up from the bed that was meant with a howl of pain from your ankle and your body slumping over the edge lamely. 

Her hands grabbed your ankles, good and injured, and pulled you roughly to the edge of the bed. A scream left your throat at the contact. “You think I’m going to let them find you?” She questioned in a suspiciously calm voice as she grazed the smooth side of the knife against your collarbone.

You stayed frozen as she leaned in closer, her lips at the shell of your ear, “If they ever found you, Emma. I would kill you and then myself. I’ve already decided. We have to be together,” Her voice in your ear had you breathing harder as she slowly pressed the tip of the knife into the area above your heart. 

The knife only stung at first before it felt like a ripping pain. Heather dragged the knife into your skin with a deliberate sense of control. Not too deep, not too superficial. Something she wouldn’t have to stitch up. She made a diagonal line before staring a few inches apart from the other cut. “We belong together, Jane.” 

You cried out again as she started dragging the knife into your skin once more, “Please,” 

“You just need to open your heart. If they ever found us, I need to mark where to shoot. Stay still.” 

As Heather got close to completing the ‘X’ mark on your chest, marking you as a possible target. You felt your body thrash under her weakly. The edge of one of the lines skewed to the left, and Heather let out an annoyed groan before she pulled the knife away from your chest and to your lips. “Stop fucking crying,” She growled as she slashed at your bottom lip. 

You hissed at the feeling as blood coated your chest and filled your mouth. You stared up at her as soft sobs kept leaving your mouth, “Fuck you.” You muttered before gathering as much spit as you could in your mouth and shooting it directly at her. 

You laughed as it made contact with her cheek, and she wiped the bloody spit away with the back of her hand. She laughed harshly as she nodded a little, “Okay, so you want to be a brat.” She laughed. 

She was sliding off the bed now, leaving you lying on your back, her chest rising and falling quickly as she gripped the pairing knife in her hand tighter. “Enjoy the rest of your meal. It’ll be your last one, Emma.” She snapped at you before stomping to the door and flying it open. 

Once she was gone, you stayed there, staring up at the ceiling wordlessly. You licked at the cut on your lip gently as blood flowed freely into your mouth. You swallowed the copper-tasting liquid as you let the consequences sink in. She was going to kill you if they found you, and you had already called for a team of highly trained professionals to come to find you. 

You almost laughed at the irony. You didn’t want them to find you. You did want them to find you. It was almost hilarious. You tried to smile with your cut lip but found the action too painful to manage. 

You didn’t want to die at twenty-eight. You wanted to see your mom again, Adeline, Nicole, hell, you wanted to go to work one more time. You rolled onto your stomach and cringed the way the fluffy comforter grazed the bleeding “X” on your chest. You reached for the morphine drip and rolled it closer as you slowly turned a knob and upped the intake. Your shaking hands then moved to the sandwich on the nightstand with a sigh. 

She could kill you when they found you, but if she thought you weren’t going to try and manipulate the situation, she was dead wrong. You weakly bit into the sandwich while trying to think of a plan. 

You refused to die without leaving a mark.

TAG LIST: @babyspiderling @cocobean16 @kodzukenie333 @mmmunson

[steddieas-shegoes]

🧁Congrats on 3k followers!🧁 You were the first steddie person I followed and I'm still so glad I did! 💕

For the sentence prompt, I'm picking a line from my favorite love song - Fair by The Amazing Devil:

"Darling, I was born to press my head between your shoulder blades at night when light is fading"

Me? The first?! That’s a huge honor and I am definitely not crying about it (lying). I hope you enjoy!

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

Steve’s migraines were bad when it rained, even worse when he’d been outside all day. Nothing helped except sleeping it off.

And pressure in just the right spot on his forehead.

It was hard to get it right on his own, and Robin was always just a bit too harsh with her fingertips against his skin, pressing too much at once in too many places. Eddie managed to touch just right sometimes, but it was hit or miss.

It was so fucking frustrating.

Eddie was frustrated too, especially when the pain got to a point that Steve didn’t even want him near him. Every smell, sound, and accidental touch made him nauseous.

They had rain most of the day, and Steve’s work day had started with Keith berating him for not rewinding one tape before putting it back on the shelf. It ended with a customer trying to steal candy from the shelves and yelling at Steve when he got caught.

By the time he got home, he could barely feel his fingers from how hard he’d been clenching the steering wheel as he drove, doing his best to focus on the road ahead. He just had to get home, then he could wash his face and get in bed.

Eddie was playing music while he made dinner, and it was nearly impossible for Steve to do anything but rush past the kitchen to their bedroom. Eddie would figure it out quickly.

Within minutes, Steve was standing at the bathroom sink in only his underwear, hot water running over the washcloth he planned on holding on his face until he could breathe again.

“Stevie, you okay?” Eddie whispered when he walked into the room.

“Migraine.”

“I’ll get you some water and the ice pack.”

Steve lost track of time as he finished up in the bathroom and settled in bed. His head wasn’t pounding so much as exploding into new galaxies every time he blinked. Somehow, closing his eyes made it worse.

He managed to make himself as comfortable as possible, barely even moving when Eddie placed the ice pack on his forehead and eyes.

“10?” Eddie asked as softly as possible, keeping his distance, but staying close enough for Steve to touch him.

“Mhm.”

“You need me to sleep on the couch?”

“No.”

The bed shifted slightly as Eddie moved further under the covers on his side. “Okay. I’m right here, sweetheart.”

The spot on his forehead was pulsing and the ice pack wasn’t doing shit.

“Turn on your side,” Steve asked, voice shaking as he tried to bite back a whimper of pain.

He felt Eddie move, and when he reached a hand out to see if he’d understood what he asked, he couldn’t help his lip turning up at the corner in an attempt at a smile.

Sometimes he was convinced the bat bites had connected them in more ways than the soft camaraderie of recovery. Sometimes it felt like they were reading the other so well, they shared a brain.

Steve slowly moved forward, wincing when his body made contact with Eddie’s. Steve pulled the ice pack away.

“Sweetheart?”

“Just a sec,” he replied.

Eddie was as still as a statue, something so rare, he probably reserved it for these moments.

Another reason Steve was certain Eddie was better than he deserved.

Steve leaned his head forward, letting out a small groan when his forehead made contact with Eddie’s back, right between his shoulder blades.

He pressed his head forward, not able to relax until he found-

There.

He nearly moaned with relief.

“Found it, angel?” Eddie whispered, not wanting to ruin the moment of painless ecstasy Steve was experiencing.

“Mm.”

“Stay as long as you need,” Eddie added before focusing on slow breathing so he wouldn’t disrupt Steve’s resting place.

Steve sighed and let himself enjoy this moment for as long as possible. He closed his eyes.

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

When Steve woke up, the light was almost gone between the curtains and Eddie’s breathing was slowed like he was asleep.

His head still ached, but the pounding had gone, and when he looked down at Eddie’s face, everything was clear.

He’d found a place to heal in Eddie. First, his arms, then his heart, and now, the place between his shoulders.

[thefallennightmare]

Boundless: Matt Dierkes x OFC!Faye-One Shot

*all pictures found on pinterest*

Pairings: Matt Dierkes x OFC! Faye[Just Pretend Universe]

Warnings: language, fluff, smut. 18+. (mask kink but with Matty, unprotected p in v, oral with male and female receiving, fingering, masturbation, choking, degradation, rope play, making of a sex tape, rough/possesive sex with dom!matty vibes, slight voyeurism if you squint hard enough, use of a safe word when it's taken too far but quick to stop all actions.)

Summary: Faye has a secret fantasy that she wants to act out with Matt, who has a proposition for her in return.

Authors Note: thanks to @blueskylinesx for this idea last night in the discord chat. We need more Matty and Faye smut. So that's basically what this one shot is, just porn with a smidge of a plot if you read close enough. TAKES PLACE IN THE JP UNIVERSE.

Tags: @loeytuan98 @thatchickwiththecamera @dsireland86 @iknownothingpeople @bngurngheart @malice-ov-mercy @cookiesupplier @heyyoplayer @myownthoughts12 @vinyardmaurao @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @artificialbreezy @marvelousmal @lma1986 @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @itsafullmoon @shilohrosechicken @klutzy-kay24 @shadowseve @blueskylinesx @exitwoundsx @thisbicc @pathion @cookiesupplier @sammyjoeee @whenthesummerdies @flowery-mess @xxkittenkissesxx @its-inourblood @madomens @collidewiththesavannah @xserena-13 @cncohshit @rain-down-on-me @sorrowsofsilence

FAYE

An ungodly yawn fell from my lips as I packed up the last box of merch and carried it outside towards the truck. Bad Omens finished their one night festival in Ohio a few hours ago and since I had nothing going on with Hollow Souls, Y/N and I both tagged along to help out. 

And to spend more time with Matt; which really wasn’t much extra time because I’d barely seen him today since I decided to help out Steven with the merch side of everything. I thought about joining Bryan with the photography side but he had everything handled. 

It was nearing eight in the evening, Bad Omens having an early set time for once, and exhaustion weighed heavy in my bones as I set down the box inside of the truck. Just as I was about to close up the back, I noticed something dark poking out of one of the boxes. 

Suddenly, I was wide awake. 

With a devilish smirk, I hid the extra Bad Omens ski mask behind my back as I quietly tip-toed over to Matt who was busy packing up his equipment. His back muscles constricted underneath his shirt as he lifted up the heavy crates, stacking them one by one, and I bit my lip as the sight made my insides burn. 

Fuck, I didn’t think I would miss him this much even when we were in the same place. 

For weeks, I'd been tossing this fantasy around in my head, especially after talking with Y/N during a girl's night where we spilled our darkest fantasies; hers being one none of us expected. I didn't even think Noah would expect it. 

For me, I desperately wanted to see if Matt would be on board with my darkest fantasy. He'd always been a gentle lover when we had sex, which I never minded. Matt knew my body better than myself and it created a wonderful sex life. Yet, I craved something more and something different. 

I needed total dominance. 

Matt didn't hear me come up behind him as I pulled the mask out from behind my back and slipped it over his head. 

"What the fuck?" He gasped beneath the fabric. 

With a hand on his shoulder, I raised myself up closer to his covered ear and let my warm breath calm him. 

"I want you to hunt me down with this mask on and fuck me when you catch me."

Sheer black pooled into his eyes as Matt slowly turned to face me, cocking his head to the side. The predatory gaze was enough to make me swallow my tongue as I peered up at him through my lashes. A deep, feral, noise emanated from the back of Matt's throat as his fingers tenderly wrapped around the base of my neck. 

"Careful what you wish for, fairy."

We were the only ones around so he yanked me into his chest, devouring my mouth with his in a kiss so intense, I stumbled back into the foundation of the sound deck. His hands steadied me by my lower back and pressed his hard cock against my core, making me moan into the kiss. His hands were all over me as a way to paint my form into his memory and my fingers danced with the end of the mask, still on his head. 

“Are you sure about this?” Matt asked after pulling away from the kiss, breathless as he rested his forehead against mine. 

I nodded eagerly. “More than anything.”

He left another kiss upon my lips before ripping the mask off, his golden locks a mess. 

“Head back to the hotel, I’ve got a few more things to finish here. I won’t text you when I’m on my way back but make sure you’re ready for me,” Matt breathed over my lips before roughly pushing away from me, slipping away into the sudden darkness of the venue. 

There’s no turning back now. 

FAYE

My breath was unsteady and echoed loud in the confined space I found myself in. Surely Matt had to be returning to the hotel room soon, it had been hours since I left him, now almost ten in the evening. As soon as I came back to our room, I went about showering off the long days filth and slipped into a new piece of lingerie I’d bought a while ago just never found the perfect time to wear it. 

Until now. 

The room was a bit larger than what we usually got while on the road with a living room area with a small sized kitchen, a bathroom with a tub big enough for four people, and a separate bedroom with a king sized bed and a roaring fireplace. Unfortunately even with the size of the room, there still wasn’t enough space for Matt to hunt me down so I had to settle with a simple game of hide and seek. 

Or as I called it in the text I sent him: hide and fuck. 

I managed to fit myself in a large wardrobe dresser that was provided with the hotel, ones that were tall enough where I could sit inside of it somewhat comfortably. The scent of my gardenia perfume, Matt’s favorite,  clouded around me as I sat with my knees pulled to my chest. Just when I was about to give up, tired of waiting, I heard the insert of a key card into the slot and the door clicking open. I had left the light on in the main area of the hotel room so some of it could cast a light into where I was hiding but with a soft click, everything was blanketed in black. 

Matt’s back. 

Holding a hand over my mouth, I tried so hard to remain quiet even though I was beyond giddy with excitement that he had agreed to this. His footsteps were so light, almost nonexistent, as he moved around the room. I could feel his presence as it halted in front of the wardrobe and before I could register what was happening, Matt ripped open the doors and yanked me from it. 

My body fell to the floor with little damage and I quickly scurried away from Matt only for his fingers to wrap around my ankle, dragging me back to him. His large body loomed over me, lust filled eyes hidden behind the mask. The bright white of the death of peace of mind logo stuck out like a sore thumb in the dark and Matt’s breathing was all I heard as I stared up at him. He wore nothing but the mask and gray boxers, hanging low on his hips. The light colored hairs of his happy trail brought a tender smile to my face. 

Matt used to ramble on about how much he hated it because he felt like he couldn't grow enough body hair. Yet after I briefly mentioned one day how much I liked how it looked, he kept it. 

“Found you,” Matt growled as his palms traced over the thin white lace of my lingerie, his eyes growing even darker. 

“I-I guess you did,” I stammered while he climbed on top of me. 

WIth his hips locking me in place, Matt reached over my head towards a bag I hadn’t noticed before and riffled through it. My breath caught in my throat when I saw the rope between his hands, him threading it between his fingers. 

Bounding my hands to my ankles, Matt went about tying them together with the rope, checking how tight it was before letting the game slip away for a moment. 

“Too tight?” 

I shook my head, teal strands falling into my eyes. “I promise, it’s fine.” 

He took off the hair tie around his wrist and gathered my hair away from my face and into a ponytail. His finger grazed over my cheek, forcing my eyes to meet his. 

“If you ever want to stop, say red,” he said quietly. 

“Okay,” I breathed, understanding the usage of our new safe word. 

With my hands and feet bound together, I let out a squeal of laughter mixed with shock as Matt lifted me from the ground, carrying me like a tied animal over towards the bedroom of the hotel room and roughly tossing me onto the bed. My ass was up towards the ceiling, barely covered by the lace I wore, and his nostrils flared when he leaned over my lower half, still donning the mask. 

“You smell so good,” he praised while kneeling on the bed. 

“Gardenia,” I informed, reminding him of my perfume. 

Matt hooked a finger into my panties, shifting it to the side so he could brush his nose along my wet folds. 

“Oh,” I murmured when I realized what kind of smell he was referring to. 

Due to how I was tied up, I wasn’t able to look down and see Matt between my legs, but I could feel the faint brush of his tongue over my clit and I pulled on my bindings. 

“One more thing,” Matt said before slipping away from me to rummage around in my suitcase. 

I turned my head towards him. “We don’t need a condom. I’m on the implant, remember?” 

He ignored me, still rummaging around in my bag until he spun quickly on his heels towards me holding onto one of my camcorders. 

“Sex tape?” I asked with a teasing edge to my voice. 

Matt’s lips curled up underneath the mask. “A fucking sex tape.” 

After making sure it was fully charged and set up on the dresser across the bed with the perfect angel, he was quick to be back at the foot of the bed, kneeling on the floor. 

“I want to taste you so fucking bad, fairy. Will you let me?” 

My head fell back to the mattress with fluttering eyes. “Please.”

Yanking my panties to the side again, Matt was quick to devour me, teeth and tongue all over my core. My body writhed against the bed as he took turns between my clit and folds with his tongue before ultimately wrapping his lips around my sensitive bud and forced two fingers inside of me. 

“Shit,” I panted as the orgasm was quick to build. 

I’d been on edge all night waiting for him and I knew it wouldn’t take me long to reach there. Matt momentarily removed his fingers from me to press the fullness of his tongue against my folds, licking me up from the bottom to the top.

"Fuck," I moaned when his tongue speared inside of me for a few strokes, before replacing it with his fingers again. 

Matt’s lips wrapped around my clit to bite and suck at the bundle of nerves. He ate me like a man starved as was offered his final meal before death. The familiar burn at the base of my spine made me call out his name; in a praise and a warning. 

“So close,” I keened. 

Matt’s arm held up my legs that were still bound and since his mouth was a little preoccupied, he smacked my ass with the hand that was holding my panties to the side. 

Let go, fairy. 

I came with a shout, grinding myself against Matt’s face as he licked and finger fucked me through the aftershocks. 

“Shit,” I choked on a breath when he pulled away only to rise to his feet, yanking down his boxers, now standing in front of me in nothing but the mask. 

I pulled on my bindings, yearning to touch him, but let out an aggravated cry when I realized how tight he tied them. 

“I need to be inside you, Faye,” Matt admitted while grabbing a hold of my ankles with one hand and guiding himself inside of me with the other. 

Both of our groans of pleasure tangled sweetly together and Matt, who stood at the edge of the bed now, slammed into me with such force, it shook the headboard against the wall. The sound of skin on skin was heaven sent, along with the image of Matt’s head rolled back, mouth open as he let out pants of air in tangent with each of his thrust. They were brutal, nearly bruising, but I reveled in it. It awoken a fire deep inside of me that from now on needed to be set ablaze. 

“So.” 

Thrust.

“Fucking.” 

Thrust. 

“Tight,” Matt groaned as his hips stalled for a moment and I watched as the muscles in his stomach constricted. 

He was close but was trying not to tumble over the edge so he slipped out from me. Before I could protest, he was climbing onto the bed towards me. He lifted my head up, wrapping my ponytails around his hand to force my mouth towards his cock slick with my arousal. 

“Open that pretty little mouth,” he demanded, yanking on my scalp. 

With glittering eyes gazing up at him in the mask, I parted my lips so he could force himself inside. He ignored my gagging as he hate fucked my throat with such a bruising grip on my hair, I was sure it would be sore for days. Drool pooled from my mouth and around his cock, dripping down to my chest. 

“Such a good little slut,” Matt smacked my cheek with the hand that wasn't tangled in my hair. “You love the way you taste, huh?”

My yelp of shock was drowned out by his cock as he repeatedly hit the back of my throat. I could taste myself on it, the tangy arousal lingering on my tongue. But soon I was gasping for breath when Matt pulled himself from my mouth to grab a hold of my chin, bringing his masked face mere meters from mine. 

“I asked you a question, Fairy. I expect you to answer it.”

I did the best I could to nod with his tight grip but it wasn’t enough for him so he tapped my cheek again. 

“Words. You need to use your words, bub.” 

“Yes,” I blurted. “Yes, I love the way I taste on your cock.”

Matt ripped off the mask, taking a deep breath of air as he shook out his hair. 

“That’s my good girl,” he praised before forcing his cock deep inside my throat again. 

This time, he didn’t hold himself back as he spilled himself inside of my mouth. 

“Don’t you dare swallow,” he spat through gritted teeth as he held the back of my head, letting my tongue glide him through the aftershocks. 

I held his seed in my mouth, long after he fell to the bed next to me, only to reach into the bag he brough, pulling out a knife. My eyes widened but unable to speak, I held my breath. 

Matt brushed his lips over mine. “You can swallow now, pretty girl.” 

Obeying him, I let out a breath and motioned towards the shiny blade. “I think this is a step too far.”

He let out a low chuckle before reaching for my bound legs and hands. “Relax, Faye. I’m just cutting you free.”

Tattered rope fell to the bed and Matt quickly brought the red, irritated skin to his lips, peppering it with kisses. 

“Where did you even get rope and a knife?” I questioned. 

Matt ran a hand through his messy hair as he fell deeper back into the bed. “From Bryan.”

All I did was hum, the revelation suddenly making a lot of sense, and as we laid there, Matt’s fingers grazed up and down the inside of my thigh, leaving goosebumps in his wake. 

“I hope you know I’m not finished with you yet,” was all he said before he yanked me off of the bed. 

As we passed by the camcorder, Matt turned it so it could face out towards the balcony of the hotel room. 

“Matthew!” I nearly screeched when I noticed the somewhat busy street just a few floors beneath us. 

He spun me around so my back was against the railing, the city lights painting us in a luminescent glow, and traced a finger down the front of my lingerie. 

“This is new,” he noted. 

I shivered with not only his touch, but the cool breeze that passed over us. 

“Do-do you like it?” I asked, nervous. 

“I love it so much, Faye, that I’m going to fuck you with it on,” Matt husked before holding out his hand, spitting on it. 

He pumped his already hard cock a few times, dragging the extra skin over the head and let out a spew of curses. Gathering some of my arousal between my legs, he worked me open again with two fingers before replacing them with his cock. The rough metal of the balcony dug into my back as Matt dragged himself nearly all the way out, slowly fucking me with the head before thrusting all of him inside of me again. It went like this for a few moments, my bottom lip caught between my teeth because the feeling caused my skin to prick. I squeezed against him, swallowing his length in warmth and our hips began to move in sync.

“Shit,” Matt rasped while leaving dark, bruising teeth marks along my neck and shoulder. “You feel so good, Faye.”

His fingers wrapped around my neck while his thumb forced my jaw up towards him.I went to slip a finger between us but Matt slapped my hand away, a growl of arousal slipped through his lips.

“Mine,” he whispered.

The pad of his thumb pressed against my bundle of nerves and with the fast and relentless pace he had chosen now, I felt the coil deep in my stomach begin to tense, my second orgasm so close.

“Yours,” I breathed. 

Our bodies slammed against each other, skin slapping against skin, and the wet noises that came from the place we were connected were so filthy that I was ready to let my body go, walls tensing around Matt’s cock. He lifted his forehead from my chest and forced our gazes to lock again, my arm wrapped around his shoulder to bring him closer, thumb rubbing circles on his bicep. His eyes took in every inch of my face, burning with the way I gasped silently when I felt the tip of his cock hit that spot. 

“Matthew,” I pured. “I’m going to-.” 

My orgasm ripped through me, causing the words to falter, and I shook in his tight embrace. The night air did nothing to cool my heated skin. 

Matt removed his bottom lip from the tight grip between his teeth as he let out a deep but quiet moan as he painted my walls with his cum. Lifting me into his arms, I wrapped my tired legs around him as he carried me back into the bedroom and tossed me onto the bed yet again fixing the camera in a different position. 

“I can’t,” I shook my head when he reached for the buttons of my lingerie. 

Matt kissed a tender kiss on my shoulder. “I know you’ve got one more in you, fairy. Don’t you want to be a good girl for me?” 

More than anything. 

I was exhausted from my two orgasms, how was he not? Peering down to his cock, I noticed it was nearly hard yet again, the sight of it alone causing my gut to twinge with anticipation and I licked my lips. 

“I thought you can't,” Matt mocked my voice from earlier, causing me to narrow my eyes at him. 

“Shut up!”

The sound of fabric ripping echoed in the room, my lingerie falling away from my body and I screeched while smacking his chest. 

“This was new, asshole!” 

Matt shrugged, throwing me down to my stomach and lifting my ass in the air to lay a swift smack against it. I scrambled to get away from him which prompted him to force the top half of my body against the mattress with one of his hands while the other smacked my ass yet again. 

“Fuck! Matthew!” I bit back the tears as he laid a third smack. “Pl-please.”

“I’ll stop when you apologize for what you called me,” Matt’s voice was dark, gone with the lust that consumed him. 

For the briefest of moments, part of me feared the monster I had awoken in him but when the pain soon turned to pleaser, I let out a quiet moan afraid he would hear. His large hand rubbed at the red skin before pressing a kiss. 

“Does the pain turn you on, Faye? Hm?” Matt spoke into the skin of my lower back. 

I grasped at the pillow, pulling it close to my chest so I could muffle my answer into it. Which only seemed to displease him because he sunk his teeth into the extra flesh of my hip, making me cry out my answer. 

“Yes! I need it to hurt!”

Wrapping an arm around my stomach, Matt lifted me up onto my knees and to face the large mirror in the room that was hung across the bed, right next to the camera; still blinking red. I gasped at my reflection of tattered pieces of lingerie hanging on to me still by a thread, mascara running down my face, purple bite marks littered all over my neck and shoulder, and lips faintly bruised from how hard Matt fucked my throat earlier. 

He knelt behind me and brushed his nose along the shell of my ear while trailing the pad of his thumb over the pulse point of my throat. 

“You look so pretty like this, Faye. Marked up as mine so everyone knows who you belong to,” he dragged his teeth along the crook of my neck, breathing me in. 

“God, I fucking love the way you smell.”

His fingers pinched and pulled at my nipples, making my head falter back onto his shoulder.

“What do you want, baby?” Matt palmed both of my breasts now before trailing a hand down my stomach to spread my legs wide for the reflection and mostly the camera. 

“You,” I breathed. 

Matthew said nothing, instead he slipped two fingers past my slick folds where the head of his cock was slowly gliding up and down. Gathering up not only my arousal but the little bit of precum that beaded at the slit, he brought those fingers to my lips with one simple order. 

“Lick.”

I took both fingers into my mouth without objection to lap up the tangy mixture of us and hummed greedily. I took them as far as I could without gagging and Matt showed me how proud he was of me by sinking himself deep inside my pussy. His strokes this time were languid, taking his time with me as he worked me up with his fingers down my throat and the others spreading me wide. 

“That’s it. Take all of me. I can feel your pussy clenching around me, you’re so wet,” Matt’s pace began to intensify as his words were urging him on. 

One hand wrapped around my throat while the other strumbed against my swollen nub, bringing me closer and close to the edge of destruction. 

My own words were gone, forever lost in the bliss that overtook my body. My soul succumbed to Matt, allowing him to drag every part of my essence down with him to the darkness. This was a side of Matt I’d never expected to see and now that I had a taste of him, I wasn’t letting him go. 

“I love you,” I moaned as I allowed the waves of pleasure to drown me as I soaked Matt’s cock with my orgasm. 

He stilled his movements and sucked in a breath before forcing my face to look into our reflection of the mirror. 

“What did you just say?” 

I blinked a few times, trying to regain myself after the intensity of each after shock, and when Matt’s grip on my chin tightened, I winced. 

Oh shit. 

I had just blurted out that I loved Matt.

For the first time. 

Shit. Fuck. God damn it. 

We’d only been dating for a few months and I was suddenly very afraid of how Matt would react. It was clearly way too soon to be dropping the I love you bomb. 

“Faye,” Matt’s voice was firm as he shook my face. 

Staring at his reflection, I let the words fall from my lips again. 

“I love you.”

The hard lines on his face softened as he let the proclamation settle for a few quiet beats and just before I could find myself questioning everything, Matt let out a guttural groan, wrapping an arm around my stomach to pull my back closer to his chest. We were pulled flush against each other as now Matt used the new angle to buck up into me, hitting the spot each and every time. 

My body was drained and I could barely keep myself afloat in his embrace as the bed shook beneath us, creaking with every snap of his hips. Skin on skin bounced off the walls, overpowering the sounds of my quiet cries, and Matt bit down hard on my shoulder. 

“Fuck, fairy. I love you too, so fucking much. You’re mine, you hear me? Your heart, your soul, this fucking pussy? All mine,” he snarled. 

“Ah! Shit!” I cried out louder this time when I felt the teeniest prick of blood from Matt’s bite into my neck trail down between my breasts. 

He still couldn’t hear my cries as he now held a tighter grip around my throat, cutting off my breathing, not enough to make me fall unconscious but enough to make my body buzz with another slow creeping orgasm. Although the slight pain I felt in my lower half was making me claw at Matt’s wrists, trying to get his attention. 

In the reflection, his eyes were screwed shut and his cock was sliding in and out of my pussy, slick and shiny with my arousal. It was a brutal pace, one he had to hold on tight with me otherwise I would have fallen to the bed beneath us. The pain between my legs wasn’t one I was suddenly fond of. 

“St-stop.” I choked out but yelped out in pain when he hit a spot a little too hard, even for my liking. 

“Matthew. Stop, please!

Matt was so far gone, he couldn’t hear my pleas . I reached around to grab a hold of his hair, yanking it slightly so I could pull his face towards the mirror, forcing him to look at us. 

“RED!”

Immediately, Matt slipped out and ever so gently laid me on the bed, stomach first. His large hands brushed away the strands of hair that had fallen out of the hair tie so he could look at my face. 

“Fairy, I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t even know what happened,” Matt’s soft eyes searched mine desperately hoping to find something. 

I tried to gain my breath, slow and steady, and when I didn’t say anything, he cursed while running a hand through his untamed hair. 

“Shit, did I hurt you?” He glanced down between my legs, making sure there was no blood. 

I reached for his face, cupping it tenderly. “I’m okay. Well, besides my neck. But I think I was already too sensitive from my previous orgasms that it became too much.”

Matt kissed the inside of my palm. “I’m so sorry, Faye.” 

With a groan, I sat up in bed so I kissed his lips, one he barely returned.. “Matthew, I’m alright. Might be sore for a few days but I asked for this.” 

“You said you loved me and all I could see was a future together,” he blew out a shaky breath, eyes wet with tears. 

My heart sank when I realized how bad he was beating himself up internally for me having called the safe word so I brought him back down into the bed with me, making him lay his head on my chest. I ran my fingers through the countless knots in his hair as he gripped tight on my hip, throwing his tattooed leg over both of my legs. 

“You saw a future with me?” I questioned after silence fell between us. 

“Mhm,” he hummed into my chest. “Me, you, Boo, and Zeus. We’d live on 5 acres of land running a raccoon rehab.” 

That brought out a genuine laugh from me and I brushed my lips across his forehead. “That doesn’t sound so bad, if I’m being honest.”

Matt glanced up at me, regret still lingering in his eyes just not as deep as before, and kissed me, steady and unrushed. He wanted to savor every part of me, physically and spiritually. His tongue glided over my bottom lip, asking for permission, and I granted it with the easiest of breaths. 

“I love you, Faye,” he said while linking our fingers together, bringing them to his lips to sweep his lips over each knuckle. 

“I love you even more, Matthew.”

As the moonlight broke through the open patio door, the wind covering our heated bodies with a blanket of chills, I allowed Matt to switch our positions so he could hold me in his embrace. The faintest of familiar lyrics lulled me to sleep as he sang, dragging his fingers up and down my back. The pain had long subsided, barely even a remembrance of it, and I truly was grateful for the night we shared together. Matt respected my boundaries, even if he did lose himself for a moment there, but his love for me was greater than his own desires. 

Soon after, our bodies fell into the comfortable ease that was slumber. Matt’s arms encased around me and my face buried into his neck; soft snores falling from his lips. And the constant blinking red light of the camera. 

[forthelostones]

inna good way ─── ⋆

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚🍸 fem!reader x college!ellie 🍸⋆୨୧˚ ⋆ ˚｡

" 'cus you make me wanna cry in a good way"

synopsis: it was the day before graduation and your ex-best friend threw a party. you visit and see if there's something left.

warnings. 18+ (mdni); soft ellie, fluff(?), suggestive language, jealousy, abby ft, smoking/drinking, mentions of insecurities, & grinding. sfw!!!

an: hi everyone, thanks for all the love on my other works! that means a lot to me, make sure if you like my writing to make suggestions! (p.s. i'm drinking wine & missing uni sooo)

(no y/n)

♪ playlist: palace/curse, i. the party, in a good way, 2 AM . ♪

#normalgirlsyndrome

wc: 3.1k

you were staring at your phone at the edge of your mattress in your college apartment. boxes had been packed, the bed once in a frame on the floor, and your gown hung over your closet door. you knew ellie was throwing a party tonight at her house and you couldn’t refuse the opportunity to go. although you didn’t have a choice because your roommates insisted you had one last night together. so, before you taped up your boxes, you pulled out your traditional going outfit, ready to hit it one last time. you were already tipsy from the four glasses of white wine you inhaled while doing your makeup. you tapped through ellie’s story ferociously over and over. she had been posting videos of her smoking a joint and playing beer pong, waiting for people to show.  you couldn't help but smile at her sweet face.

you felt a twist in your stomach as you thought about seeing her again. of course you had seen her around campus and waved, but things had gotten more awkward than you’d both admit. the relationship turned dry but you remember the touches of her hands on those random “dates” that she refused to acknowledge. they were so sweet and soft, you yearned for more, especially the nights when you were alone touching yourself in your bed wishing it were her. she refused that she had any feelings for you after a seldom walk near the lake where the stillness of the water was louder than her lack of words. “I just thought we’d be better as best friends lovey,” she told you. her mouth said one thing but her eyes said another, you were sure she was lying. you saw her around with dina, her on-and-off girlfriend, wondering what she had that you didn’t. you picked yourself apart one random date ago while you cried and stared at her photos on instagram. you found yourself reopening those wounds as you began to head for the door. 

the smell of sweating bodies and weed cause your lungs to tighten, forcing a cough out of your throat. your heart became tight at the thought of seeing her, you couldn’t quite place why. so many memories flood your head — remembering the sound of her guitar trilling through the night on her back porch, where she sang your favorite songs to you. her fingers meticulously tracing the guitar's neck, making it perfect for you. you fell into the corner you typically shove yourself into, as your friends handed you a red cup with a clear liquid that smelled like tequila. 

you took it straight, not caring about the consequences. your throat burned with sweet satisfaction, once the liquor dropped into your belly, you felt sweat bulb to your top lip. they handed you another, this time with a lime, and you noticed abby, the captain of the rugby team eyeing you. this wouldn’t have been the first time you caught her staring. you flutter your heavy lashes in her direction as you bite your lower lip ever so slightly. abby was attractive, she was fit beyond belief and you could imagine the type of positions she could put you in with no effort. she started making a stride towards you in her all black ensemble. 

a text hits your home-screen, it’s ellie.

come smoke. 

you ignore the message as abby comes beaming with a smile. 

“hey pretty.” she muttered. 

i know you’re here come onnnn. 

ellie knew you only smoked with her, she wouldn’t ask you otherwise. so, you grab abby by the hand and grin right back at her. “you wanna come smoke with me?” you ask, not really giving her a choice. 

was your intent to make ellie jealous… no… but yes, because you were only just friends. abby follows your lead naturally towards the back patio glimmering brightly ahead. you both slip past the kitchen, through the sliding doors where ellie is chatting with her roomates, and you wave at her. she’s not blitzed yet, so she has a smug look on her face when she sees abby. her twisted face is illuminated by the fairy lights gleaming softly around the perimeter of the porch. 

“hey els," abby says. 

“hi you.” you said, reaching directly for the blunt in her hand. 

her eyes scan your body, she loved when you wore that outfit, as you bent down she snuck a look at your breast, clearly spilling out of your top. abby sits in the wooden lawn chair just parallel of ellie and you perch yourself in her lap, her hands automatically coming around your waist. they were bigger than they seemed and you felt a heat patch warm your core. ellie could never hide her facial expressions, she attempted to not turn to look, instead, she turned her chair. 

beer?” she asks abby. 

“yes please. thanks.” abby replies. 

“make me something.” you demand. 

ellie sets her jaw and moves slowly into the kitchen past a herd of people. you bring the blunt to your lips, sucking in, holding, then exhaling away from abby’s face. she was watching you intently, noticing how your lips puckered. you turn to her and place it between her lips, she coughed violently as the smog entered her lungs.

“aw. sorry, I didn't—“   

“nope it's,” she said with her thick throat. “never got to smoke because of rugby.” 

you just hit her with an understanding face as you shift on her lap. her left hand moves to rest on your inner thigh and her other just at the curve of your ass as you perch closer into her. you face the joint and grab her cheeks, blowing smoke into her mouth, she inhales softly, both of your lips practically touching. you’d never give her the satisfaction as you noticed her hips pressing your backside.

ellie stood behind you both, holding a can of beer and a cocktail glass filled with your drink. you handed off the joint and took both in your hands. ellie noticed how close abby’s hands were to your crotch and became red with jealousy. ellie looked you in your eyes as she pushed out smoke from between her lips. as you sipped your Ellie concoction, abby’s hands trailed up your back under your top, she pulled you in closer to her chest as she whispered in your ear. “you’re so fucking hot.” 

you giggle at her praises but feel a knot form in your stomach as you keep unwavering eye contact with ellie’s as Abby continues to spout praises. you press down harder in her lap where she thrusted upwards into your ass. 

“so, you guys ready to graduate?” ellie interrupted, seeing how flustered you got. 

you sipped to avoid speaking as abby turned her head to answer ellie.

“yes. i’m thinking about backpacking around Asia for a bit.” 

“really? i’ve always wanted to do —“ 

“since when?” ellie cuts you off in a fiery spit. 

abby coughs and sips her beer in a gulp, finishing it all. 

“need another?” you ask. 

abby nods kindly and gently pats your ass as you get up. ellie passes the blunt to abby and follows you inside to go to the drink fridge in the basement. you know she’s following you, you can practically feel her breath on your neck as you zig-zag toward the steps. you reach the bottom of the basement stairs and see ellie’s silhouette at the top. you try and reach for the string near the lightbulb but can’t find it, your heart beats loudly in your ears as ellie’s converse tap towards you. she stands right in front of you, without saying a word, you can smell her shampoo mixed with weed, and she reaches up to turn the light on. you look at her light pink eyes, and furrowed brows, and notice her heaving. 

for a moment you both just stand in thick silence. 

“i have to get abby a beer.” you felt your feet become heavy and your mind drifted. 

before you could even open the refrigerator door an inch, she slams it shut. her eyebrows raise in curiosity. 

“speak.” you demand. 

taken aback, she gasps at your boldness. “well—I— what the fuck?” 

you shove past her and take another beer in your hands ignoring her dropped jaw. 

“you come to my party, rubbing up on that bitch, sitting in her lap… wha-when has that ever been like you?” 

“are you the only one allowed to have fun?” 

she froze, as abby called out.

“hey, you okay?” 

her voice was so protective, you felt her gaze down at the top of the stairs, making sure ellie didn’t do anything stupid. 

“i’m fine, ellie was helping me with something. i’ll be up.” 

you tried to convince abby, but she still stood watching, which made ellie twitch with anger. 

“i’m going to go to the bathroom pretty.” abby finally says leaving. 

“okay!” you yell out. 

“if you go, please don’t…” she babbled. 

you liked seeing her so weak for you, but it wasn’t enough. you stood your ground and dared to move past her, but she stopped you by grabbing your wrist. “ellie get off of me.” 

you felt the wine and weed settle in, you were sweating, panting, and fingertips buzzing. her touch felt so good, you couldn’t deny that. 

“pretty.” she mocked. 

At least someone sees it, you thought. 

                                                                                  — 

you officially lost Abby, she must’ve left or found someone else to caress. you didn’t mind, deep down you knew that’s not who you really wanted anyway. as you sipped a lone beer and wandered around the house your high was kicking in and the music entered your ears in a blur. no words were clear, just the bass booming on the hardwood creating a vibration under you. you reach the end of the hallway, where ellie’s room door stood. it seemed taller than usual, more daunting, stretching several feet upwards. you actually had never been in her room before; you saw it on her stories, or on facetime, but never in person. as you reached for the cold, gold knob you pause. 

you hear ellie’s laugh boom from behind you, so you follow it like sonar. you see her taking shots with her bandmates and you watch as her t-shirt lifts up ever so slightly to expose her naval. you wanted to know what it tasted like. her feet wobbled underneath her, and she was tipsy. you blink your eyes several times as you find a wall to lean on, and your hand travels back down the hall to open the big, scary door. you creep inside, it’s dark, but in the corner is a small desk lamp that illuminates a yellow hue onto the room. her bed was on the floor, room unpacked, shit was all on the floor, and her guitars were perched in the left corner of the room. to the right was her bathroom, you saw your reflection and had to focus to see your face. your eyes pink, lips wet, and body warm. you sipped more beer as you turned to her shower, you imagined ellie’s naked body, the way she rubbed the bar of soap around her neck, nipples, and in between. 

you went to sit on Ellie’s bed, you began to roll yourself in her messy, undone bedding. her smell was so thick, bruising your nostrils, filling you up. you remember how she treated you when dina was around and you became more pissed off. you swallowed the last drops of your drink and threw the bottle on the ground. warm tears began to bud and then you realized how your mascara would run down your cheeks. you pulled out your phone to check the damage. 

lets talk, im sorry. 

ellie’s message from two hours ago, you freeze, it’s been two hours? you bring your palms to your forehead and let out a soft sob. 

“i’ll be back, yea!” ellie hollers from the hallway. 

you straighten up immediately, she walks in hand in her hair, surprised to see you. 

“oh.” she says softly. 

you couldn’t help but sigh. you set your phone down on the ground and look up at her, she had a slight smile on her face seeing you like this, not knowing you were on the verge of tears just now. she closes the door behind her, bends down, and lifts your chin up. 

“you’re gone.” she giggles. 

you push her hand away and turn your face. 

“let me take care of you, come on. it’s the least I can do,” 

the softness in her voice shook you. 

“did you get my text lovey?” 

all you can muster is a nod as you begin to scoot towards the head of her bed.  

“why don’t you just, get comfortable, i’ll get you something to throw on.” 

she rummages loud through her boxes, which makes your head pound, and tosses you a clean, grey zip-up. she leaves the room quietly, flicking on the light in the bathroom and closing the door after she clicks off the table lamp. you remove your jeans and top, leaving you in your lace panties.

your head is pounding as you become more intoxicated by the scent of her earthy shampoo lingering on her pillow. you inhaled the familiar scent, imagining your hands running through her hair, pulling her closer to your neck. the door opens and you jolt as you remember you never put on the zip-up. 

“I’m sorry— I,” ellie gulps as she spills the glass of water she brought for you onto herself. you roughly zip yourself into the warmth that smelt like her laundry detergent. 

“i’m good.” you mutter. 

you both share a familiar laugh, and her gaze becomes shifty as she thinks about your body. she hands you a half-full glass of cold water with a nervous smile. 

“glass half full, right?” 

you sip and chuckle. 

stupid, fucking stupid Els, she thinks. 

she sits beside you at the opposite end of the bed, she ignores the fact that she can see your thighs unhindered by any fabric not obstructing her view. even though it was dark, she could still see you illuminated by the bathroom light. 

“good, urm,” she peered down at her now sheer shirt. “i will go and get ready for bed.” 

her nipples were suddenly erect from the cold water spreading onto her chest. You couldn’t help but notice them perk from under the thin, wife-pleaser material. she stood up to grab her night clothes and head for the bathroom, leaving you smothered in darkness. you couldn’t tell if your eyes were open or not, but the four walls that you imagined around you spun. 

you heard the water from the shower turn on and your fantasy brightened, thinking about ellie’s body. you became more drunk on the image of ellie touching herself in the shower because of you. knowing how intently she was watching you grind against abby, not only did it make her furious, it turned her on. she knew she made a mistake, picking dina over you all these years. you push your hips upwards, riding the mattress, inhaling ellie’s scent.

you found her name leave your lips softly, Ellie.

Ellie. 

you couldn’t tell the difference between your voice and your subconscious desire of moaning her name. you began to imagine her holding you.

Ellie. 

“lovey, you okay?” she said frightening you. 

you paused, realizing she opened the bathroom door, drying her hair on a towel. Her grey boxers clung to her body so sweetly. she wore a distressed band tee that sat just above her belly button. you had formed sweat around your hairline and your body perfectly contoured into the mattress. 

“i’m okay. yea, thanks.” 

she sighed as she bent down to sit at the edge of the bed. as she dried her hair she was thinking of the next move to make. you were bunched up under yourself, warm from embarrassment. her hand wrapped around your ankle gently, which shocked you, but your reaction time was too slow. she leaned over to kiss your leg, kisses feeling like a pure electric shock, you groaned at finally feeling her touch. 

“els.” you managed to say.

“what?” She said in between kisses, finally coming up the side of your thigh, with her left hand coasting up your backside. 

“no. i can’t.” 

your body pushes her hands away, startling her. she looked at you in pure shock, as if you were the one who was wrong. she crawled towards you with undeniable lust in her eyes. 

“why not?” she asked dumbfounded. 

“you rejected me all this time. you… dina…” you say attempting to jog her memory. 

“dina and i so what.” she moved an inch on all fours. 

“you chose her over me, so that’s that.” 

“baby,” she groaned. 

you melt at her voice, you couldn’t help it. 

" okay, i was scared. scared to disappoint you, I’m not… I’m not sure how to be in a relationship. dina was fun, easy, she didn’t care. I wanted you, I just- 'm so fucking dumb,” she rambled.  

you grimaced at her name, you had grown so spiteful of her that even the mention of her made you tense. ellie was now in your bubble, she laid her head on the pillow beside you, and sincerity filled her eyes. 

“you could’ve told me that. you know that I was your best friend ellie.” 

she flinches at her own name. “I know, I know.” she muttered as she tucked her hand behind your neck and leaned in to kiss you. her lips were pillowy and wet, better than anything you’ve ever felt. she swiped the bottom of your lip entering her tongue inside your mouth. you groan at the taste of her and her huffing as she pushes deeper into your mouth. your hands drift to her waist and you pull your leg up over her body, pulling her closer. 

your hands travel up her back into her scalp. she pulls away and pierces your pupils, she meant everything she said, you saw it. “i’m sorry lovey, i was just scared.” she added. 

you could only force out a hmm.

"please forgive me?" she says, pecking your neck slowly with staccato kisses.

her tongue swirls up the side of your neck and wraps around your lobe as she pleads, "please." desperately pushing up against you.

and for a moment you consider forgiveness.

[whaleofatjme1920]

Passing Autumn Nights

[Proxies (Toby, Masky, Hoodie) X GN!Reader]

[Warnings: Like, none?]

[AN: also known as the 'fuck me i just miss autumn' fic and LOVE writing slice of life things.]

[1356 words <3]

Reblogs are appreciated!

Moments like these never last forever. Fleeting, careless, and bittersweet, they remind you of a time long, long passed. The moon is rising and a chill runs through the air. It oddly warms you and reminds you of friends that pass in and out of your life just as freely, though in your past life it might have caused you minor concern. 

You sit on the hood of this stupid car Toby stole. It’s sporting a giant dent in the side, and some of the paint near the tires is rusting but it’s taken care of the four of you so far. In your hand is a pack of cigarettes. You don’t smoke. You tried it once and hated it, coughing up like a crude imitation of a dragon lighting up your first attempt, and never tried again after that. They’re actually Tim’s; he wants you to hold them to help kick his habit. 

Brian says it’s a sign he’s trusting you more and more. After all, no one knows Tim like him, and you trust your right hand’s judgment. 

Laying in the back seat is Brian himself. His forearm is over his eyes to shield them from the harsh overhead lights in the parking lot. He smells like pine, the woods, a bit of whiskey but not too much. He’s got his back windows rolled down as he waits with you for Toby and Tim to finish whatever the hell they’re doing inside the grocery store. You all needed some cash, and Tim has ways of getting it without any suspicion raised. Whole registers, wallets, purses, things lifted without so much as a smile on his face and an oddly friendly, ‘have a nice day’ in response. 

In your hands, you play with the lighter Tim also left with you. You flick it a few times before finally hearing your right hand’s voice. 

“Leave it,” he hums tiredly, not bothering to move his forearm from his closed eyes. “Thing’s low enough.”

You smile softly and cap it before resting it back in your jacket pocket. For a mid October day, it’s only a little cold, which is surprising. You expected it to be chillier. Or maybe that’s just your proxy blood telling you to not register cold the way a human might. There’s scrapes all over your body, some from missions, others from training, only one from The Operator himself. You trace over the heated mark on your clothed thigh and internally wince, remembering when you upset him. “Sorry,” you apologize half heartedly as you run your thumb in slow circles over the smooth box of cigarettes. “Just get antsy waiting.” 

Brian hums again in response as if to ask ‘why’, but makes no further move to press. He just smiles slightly in response to your presence. “You can always ask them how they’re doing,” he says. When you glance over your shoulder to peer at him through the windshield, he tapes at his temple. Head talk, of course. 

You squint a bit across the parking lot and feel a small bout of relief wash through your system as Tim and Toby step out of the store, bags in hand from legitimate purchases, and well, you can feel the things they acquired outside of legal bounds. “No need to,” you say in response to Brian. 

“Get off the hood,” Tim chides you slightly, but he makes no further move to disturb you. It’s said much like an older brother would to a pesky younger sibling. 

In solidarity, and out of a love for annoying his leader, Toby haphazardly opens the trunk of the car, tosses the bags inside which earns a scowl from Tim, and then bounds over to sit on the hood with you. He leans back a bit, resting his tired body alongside yours. “Kinda crowded in there,” he says to you, knowing you’re curious about how it all went. “Bit too crowded for a Thursday at 8pm,” he muses further. He runs his fingers through his chopped brown hair, gazing at the night sky. The moon has always captivated him. Reminds him of simpler times. He likes autumn just as much as you do, and this feels like the best it’s going to get. 

“What took you guys so long, then?” You inquire as you and Toby listen with half attention to Brian and Tim’s conversation. Something about future work, run of the mill proxy lifestyle things. 

Toby rummages around in his pockets and pulls out a handful of dum dum lollipops he lifted. He gives you a toothy grin and nods for you to pick a flavor before he settles on blue raspberry after you’ve chosen. He crinkles the wrapper, shoves it in his pocket and then holds his hand out for you to give him your wrapper as well. He pops the sweet thing in his mouth and savors the taste before shrugging a bit, “you know Tim. That’s how it always is.” He smiles when Tim taps the windshield in slight annoyance. 

“C’mon, get back in the car. We got somewhere to go,” Tim says as he starts the car up. Either you two get in, or he’s driving with you two strapped to the top of the car. 

“Shotgun-!”

“Sh-oh come on,” Toby sighs in defeat as you snicker in triumph and slide off the hood of the car. You pat his shoulder and then round your way to the passenger seat, settling in and feeling oddly warmer despite not registering you were cold to begin with. You watch as Toby slouches his way to the backseat with Brian, who at first, does not want to move for the former runt. When Toby shoves him, Brian only laughs and tells him to ‘not get your panties in a bunch’. 

“So, where are we going?” You ask as Tim puts the car in drive and smoothly leaves the parking lot. You’re always surprised at the places proxies end up. Right now, you’re in southern Illinois right around Ruth’s hometown. You wouldn’t tell her, but you visited her family’s farm and left a small gift. She would say it’s far too much, and even dangerous for proxy influence to be near her folks and younger siblings but The Operator’s always been fond of her. He wouldn’t hurt them. Not while she performs beautifully for him. 

Tim props his left arm up on the sill of the car window, resting his head there as he drives with one hand. He’s very relaxed, preferring driving at night as opposed to dealing with everyone else when the sun is out shining. He won’t admit it either, but he loves autumn nights like these too. He watches the lights of the town start to fade as you head further south. “Stopping in a small proxy town, meeting with EJ, then Jeff is gonna tag along. Something about… a farm? Lotta farms lately,” he chuckles tiredly. “It’s kinda perfect for Halloween - I’ve never seen The Operator so fascinated with a witch before. So, that. He said he wanted us with those two, and we’ll get further directions once we’re at said farm.” 

Brian clears his throat and adjusts his posture so he’s sitting up. “That farm gonna have pumpkins?” He asks. It’s surprisingly out of character for your right hand, arguably one of the most brutal proxies in your team. 

Tim shrugs. “Fuck if I know.” 

You laugh softly, “why? You wanna carve some?”

Some part of Brian’s old world personality shines through. His smile, the crinkle in his eyes despite him being older and no longer a college student but a weathered, jaded proxy is visible as he nods slightly. “Yeah,” he sniffs slightly, gaze now falling out the window at the orange, red and yellow trees visible from the car’s headlights as you pass, only to see them disappear as the four of you roll through. “Always liked autumn,” he says. 

There’s that warm, gentle feeling again. You focus on your lollipop, feeling the presence of something mulled and sweet. This is as good as it’s gonna get. 

“Yeah,” a pause, “me too.”