#room 77 part two

[chaotic-mystery]

On the Road Again | J.M.

ꨄ Pairing: dbf!Joel x f!reader

ꨄ Summary: it’s the morning after you stayed in a motel with Joel, so what now? Will he tell your dad you came onto him or can he keep a secret?

ꨄ CW: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI. Porn w a lil bit of plot. Road head, reader has hair long enough to pull, choking, gagging, dirty talk, roughness, no seatbelt wearing ass (pls don’t do this, I love you too much for you to not wear it) swallowing bc we aren’t quitters! slight speeding while driving, Joel miller whimpers!

ꨄ WC: 2.1K

A/N: This is part 2 to Room 77! So happy to see all the love it’s gotten, so here we go! Hope you love it. I promise next part (if you want one idk let me know) we’ll set some story up and have more plot + sexy time

“Baby, wake up. We gotta go, cmon.”

Your eyes were blinking open gradually, finally seeing Joel who was sitting next to you on the bed and stroking your hair to wake you up. The energy was different now that you weren’t strangers to each others bodies. Joel held you the whole night right against his chest, never letting go until he woke up. With not nearly enough energy, you got up to start changing and get up to speed with him so he wasn’t waiting on you. Turning your back to him as he picked up the clothes from near the bathroom, you squeezed your hand into a fist, teetering on the idea of almost hating yourself for asking this question that was sitting in your throat. “J-Joel um, are you gonna tell my dad…about last night?” The room lingered with silence and Joel ran a hand over his scraggly mustache, looking at the back of your head from across the room.

“No, darlin’ I’m not. He’d kill me and I think he’d be pretty pissed off ‘atcha. I can keep this between us if you can, deal?” His tone was serious to get his point across. The last thing you wanted to see this weekend was your dad and Joel throwing punches at each other.

“Deal. I just hope you don’t regret what happened, because I don’t, not one bit.” You tugged your shirt on and attempted to fix your beadhead before packing your other clothes back into your duffle bag. Every emotion you could think of was going through Joel’s mind at that moment. On the one hand, he was nervous that your dad would find out and think he took advantage of you, but on the other hand he was ready for more and wanted to get to know you, the real you; not the version of you your dad tells him.

Joel’s hand ghosts over your shoulder for a split second before resting it on you, thumb rubbing on your soft skin. “Angel, I don’t regret anything. I meant everything I said and did, okay? It’s gonna be hell keepin’ my hands off ya in front of your family though, pretty girl.” His hand slides down your arm to your hand and grabs it firmly, spinning you around to face him. Joel tilts your chin upwards to look at him in his dark brown eyes, the sunlight hitting one just a little from behind the curtains. Your heart felt like it was about to come right out of your chest if he continued looking into your soul the way he was. There was nothing you wanted more than to lay him down on that bed behind you and ride him until your legs gave out and your body was trembling, but you had to go before everyone got suspicious. If he were to ask you right now to say ‘fuck it’ and stay with him at the motel all weekend, you would in a heartbeat.

“We gotta go, come on bunny.” Joel kisses your forehead lightly before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. He grabbed both duffle bags and held the door open for you to leave the motel room. As you both walked to his truck, the warm air covered your body and your mind felt like it was coming clearer with every step you took. What’s going to happen when your dad sees you and you have to pretend like you didn’t just sleep with his best friend? How the hell were you going to pull off that lie? How were you going to manage three nights in the house with Joel in the other room, your mind on nothing but him?

“Ya just gonna stand there or you gonna get in so we can at least enjoy some time at the beach before the sun goes down?” Joel joked and looked at you from inside the truck, your bags already put away. You snapped out of it and grabbed the chrome handle, tugging it open to get inside. His rough fingers turned the key to start the engine and soon enough the truck was on the road flying to the direction of the vacation house. The sunglasses shielding your eyes made it easier to steal glances of Joel, the way his veiny hand gripped the steering wheel while his other hand was on the back of the seat by your head. Everything about him was sexy to you, it was hard not to stare. The way he drove with one hand, the way his curls blew in the wind, the way he squinted from the sun because he refused to wear sunglasses. Maybe it was because you slept with him or maybe you just never noticed how effortlessly he made everything seem; but he made daydreaming about him come naturally to you.

You suddenly had the idea to scoot to the middle seat and cuddle against him while you read your book, just wanting to feel him next to you. It was going to be the longest three hours if you couldn’t touch him in some way. It wasn’t going to be too long now before you had to painfully push aside the feelings and memories still fresh in your mind from last night. He was so gentle playing with your hair, you could almost still feel it. Not even asking if he was okay with it, you grabbed your book from your bag and unbuckled your seatbelt, scooting into the spot next to Joel. You leaned your back against him and propped your right leg on the seat, getting cozy while flipping to where your bookmark was. Joel coughed briefly and looked down with furrowed brows for a moment before looking back at the asphalt in front of him. “Just make yourself comfortable I ‘spose.” His deep voice vibrated through his lungs and against your back, making you smile to yourself.

“Well I have to take advantage of this while I can before I have to pretend like I don’t have bad thoughts about you coursing through my mind.” You tilted your head back until Joels head came into your view and he chuckled before kissing your head once more.

The book you cracked open to get caught up on had your interest maybe the first two hours of the drive and you were at a point you could guess how the book ends. Joel’s arm managed to wrap around your neck and have you in a comfortable headlock, keeping you close to him. The salty breeze mixed with his cologne just right, making you feel at peace, you were comfortable with him. Managing to sit up and look at Joel while your hand rested on his thigh, you got close to his ear and whispered, “How do you manage to make me want to blow you while you drive?” It was like you could see his ears perk up at your words and his eyes widened in surprise before meeting your eyes quickly. “S’that right sweet baby?” His hips lifted up to shift in his jeans as the bulge grew the more he thought about it. You dragged your nails against his thigh and traced over his cock through his pants and he whimpered your name so quietly you almost didn’t hear it.

“What was that? Speak up for me, Joel.” you teased, grabbing a handful of his bulge.

He grunted at your actions, wishing you’d stop teasing him and do what you said to him. “I bet you look so cute with somethin’ in your mouth, baby doll. Let me see how much of a good girl you can be, hm?”

You’d be lying if you said his words didn’t send your whole body into chills and excitement flooded your shorts. He knew just what to say to get you going and want to devour him like a fucking animal. With no hesitation you unzipped his jeans and plunged your hand in his boxers, greeted by his rock hard cock that was leaking precum from the slightly swollen tip. You gathered the precum in your hand and coated his cock with it as you began jerking him off, his moan echoing through the truck as a relief. “Fuck baby- that feels so goddamn good, jus’ like that.” Joel's Adams apple bobbed in his throat as he focused on the road and what your hand was doing to him.

“You’re so hot, Mr.Miller. The way you speed up the faster my hand goes up and down your cock, you’re such a filthy man. God I would kill to have you pull over and take me on the hood, leaving me dripping your cum in my shorts while I’m face to face with my family. Bet you’d love that, huh?” You were so unsure of where the sudden urge to speak such filthy thoughts in his ear came from but you weren’t mad at it. Joel was grunting and hanging on to every word, you could almost see it playing out in his head as he imagined taking you over the hood. “God dammit your voice drives me fucking crazy, you’re such a nasty lil thing- fuckkk” For a second his head tilts back before he squeezes the steering wheel tighter. Leaning down and shoving his cock in your mouth, you begin to work your tongue around the head. Pre cum was dripping out and onto your tongue and you swirled over the hole, collecting as much as you could. Joel switched hands and reached his right hand down to your head, grabbing a handful of your hair and tugged roughly while he groaned your name through gritted teeth. The rush of adrenaline made your shorts grow even wetter, squirming in your seat and dying from needing some type of relief.

Joel’s cock slammed into the back of your throat as you deep throated as much as you could, gagging and coughing over him and drool spilling everywhere. His grip on your hair tightened as he yanked your head back so you released his cock. “You keep goin’ like that and I’m gonna cum down your throat sweetheart.” He kissed you roughly, tongue forcing its way into your mouth as he kept an eye on the road. “We’ve got about ten more minutes before we get to the house, I know that’s plenty of time for you, dolly.” He kissed you once more before you made your way back to his cock, licking the bottom of the shaft all the way to the back of the head. Joel’s throaty moans filled the truck more frequently and his stomach caved with every deep breath he took.

“F-fuck baby jus’ like that, cmon jus’ like that. Nasty girl, fuckkk. Open wide for me, let me see you swallow my cum like a good girl.” Joel whimpered and his cock twitched in your mouth before his cum was shooting down the back of your throat. His hand never let go of your hair as he held you there, shouting profane words and your name mixed in there. For someone who had never gotten a blowjob on the road before he met you, he did pretty well driving and focusing on the road. Joel finally slowed down with his load and when he was milked dry, you came up and swallowed the rest as he looked you in the eyes.

Taking your thumb and wiping the corners of your mouth, he groaned at the sight of you making his load disappear inside you. “You- I’ve gotta keep my eye on you, don’t I?” A smirk of playfulness grew on his lips and you smirked, nodding in agreement. Joel came down off his high and tucked his soft cock back into his pants, looking over at you as you acted like nothing happened. The only issue was that your pussy was soaked and you needed his long tan fingers inside you or rubbing your clit but unfortunately that wasn’t going to happen right now.

The familiar house was making its way into your view and you felt at home. Joel honked the horn the entire driveway up until your dad came out, holding his arms wide open for a hug from you. Now you weren’t close with your dad, but he was kind enough to offer you the invitation to come. Was it all that special though if he was extending it for his friends to come? Joel got out and greeted your dad before grabbing the suitcases from the bed of the truck. You had to mentally prepare for this and it was not easy. Joel didn’t make it easy to act like nothing happened.

“You wouldn’t believe the fuckin’ rain we got caught in last night. Had to pull over and stay at a motel until it let up.” Your eyes darted to the gravel under your shoes as you walked up to your dad and hugged him. “Yeah it was insane but I’m glad Joel was with me.” Your dads smile froze and he blinked at Joel, who did not dare look at you.

“Separate rooms I hope?” Not wanting anything to be left for questioning, you and Joel answered almost too quickly over and over with yes. “Well come on in! I’m just grilling some meat for dinner!” Your dad hollered and walked back up the white wooden deck and disappeared inside. A deep sigh of relief came from both you and Joel and he placed your suitcase next to you with the handle up. “You heard him, let’s go bunny.” Joel mocked and smacked your ass to give you some pep in your step. This was going to be a fun weekend.

[sluttylittlewaistenthusiast]

╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all the fanfics i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) some will have summaries if provided <3

╰┈➤ a/n: 2022 me would skin me alive if she ever found out im being vocal abt liking eddie munson

ᡣ𐭩 how you can help palestine . fic recs m.list

@lokis-army-77

⭒ Cozy

Waking up the day after Eddie has fucked your brains out you have a little more fun.

⭒ Private Viewing

What happens when your favorite camboy is in your class? You should stop watching his content... or should you? What happens when you are eventually paired together for a project? Everything will be just fine, won't it?

@eddiemunsons-missingnipple

⭒ Next Caller

Eddie hosts a late night radio show for his college campus, where he discusses various different topics. He's mostly known for his DnD and sex talk segments. You've been a long-time listener who works up the courage to finally call in for some help.

⭒ You Look Lonely

Eddie finally had it all, success, money, and fame. There was still one tiny problem he had.

@ceriseheaven

⭒ Cockwarming with older!Eddie (blurb)

@natti-ice

⭒ “Let me taste you” (blurb)

⭒ "B-baby please, I'm gonna-" (blurb)

@msgexymunson

⭒ Shotgun

You're on a camping trip with your two friends, and the scariest guy from school: Eddie Munson. A few beers and some weed change the way you look at him however. Maybe he's not so scary after all. Cocky, oh yes, but not scary. Especially the way your legs start to squeeze together at the sight of him. But, does he like you, or is this some cruel game to play on the innocent band geek? 

⭒ Benefits

Your best friend Eddie starts to look very appealing to you, but if you suggest a dynamic change, will he go for it?

⭒ Soft Touches

you and your dealer Eddie get a little closer than anticipated.

⭒ The Ink Shop

Desperate for a job, you answer an advertisement not knowing it's a tattoo shop. It's not particularly difficult work, except for one thing: having to deal with Eddie Munson.  

@eddiethefreakkmunson

⭒ Not So Accidental Invitations

Tired of ignoring your ever growing attraction to your roommate Eddie you "accidentally" send him a partial nude, his reaction is everything you had hoped it would be and more...

@bimbobaggins69

⭒ Love in the Locker Room

you go into the boys locker room with a plan to steal the polaroids your now ex boyfriend took of you to show off to his friends, but the last thing you suspected was to be met with Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson and his very big friend.

@luveline

⭒ Topaz, Lime, Ruby Red

Eddie has a staring problem that you barely notice, though you share an aching, awful crush. One of you has to bend first, and it’s not who you’d expect.

⭒ Is It Getting Too Much?

you finally work up the courage to kiss Eddie for the first time and he can’t cope (even if he claims he can).

⭒ If It Barks

You don’t mean to make an enemy of Eddie Munson — he’s handsome and talented, but he’s the biggest jerk you’ve ever met. Eddie thinks you’re infuriatingly pretty, emphasis on the infuriating.

part one | part two | part three | part four |

⭒ Was That So Hard?

Your best friend Eddie tries to explain what a hickey feels like and finds he doesn't have the words. He could show you, though, if you want?

⭒ Dark Matter

You ask your best friend Eddie to give you your first kiss. Eddie's not really in the habit of saying no to you.

⭒ Something Extra

You're having trouble sleeping and pot seems like the only solution. Good thing your dealer, Eddie Munson, knows of another method that he's willing to to teach you. You get more than you bargained for when he tells you what he gets off to every night - you.

@usedtobecooler

⭒ Desperate!Eddie (blurb)

⭒ eddie "monstercock" munson

eddie ‘monstercock’ munson, who is painfully unaware of the sheer size of his dick.

@munson-blurbs

⭒ Dark and Stormy

A missing key and a terrible storm leaves you and Eddie stranded in the back of his van. What ever shall you do to pass the time?

@eiightysixbaby

⭒ Take A Dip?

eddie wants to get you in the water with him while you're alone at the community pool. he ends up getting a lot more than he bargained for.

@galaxy-siren

⭒ Biggest Fan

@lonelysatellites

⭒ Safe Hands

Sex has never been a pleasant experience for you. Selfish partners, anxiety, and pain have all ruined something that you should enjoy. You’re convinced there’s something wrong with you, but Eddie is determined to prove otherwise.

@eddiernunson

⭒ I Can Do It With A Broken Heart

You and Eddie have both had crap luck on dates lately, nothing that can't be fixed with a strawberry milkshake. However, he gets asked out on a date and it goes well...until it turns your life on its head and he forgets how to pick up the phone. You don't even care that he's dating someone else you just want your best friend back.

⭒ The Splash of Rain on the Roof

you're best friends with Eddie Munson after moving to Hawkins, the new girl who ditches the cheerleaders for the Freaks. A year later, you've fallen head over heels for him, and you're convinced there's no way he has any interest in you. It finally seems confirmed when you find out (more or less) that he's into a fucking cheerleader. Your heart breaks.

@bbyhellfire

⭒ missionary with eddie (drabble)

eddie didn't care for missionary until he meets you

@oneforthemunny

⭒ Soft!Eddie (blurb)

@kiwi-bitchez

⭒ The Girlfriend Experience

Eddie doesn’t think he’s cut out for dating. Self-resigned to a life of one and done hookups, you’re determined to make him see that he has the capacity to be a worthy companion… for when the right girl comes around.

@/gaybybirth on ao3

⭒ Double Feature

When you're forced to go to a double feature showing of the Halloween movies with your brother and his friends, you find yourself, like usual, interacting with Eddie Munson. But it doesn't take long for the platonic line to be blurred and things to heat up.

⭒ Show Me

You ask Eddie to show you what you've been missing out on after he discovers your boyfriend never went down on you.

@eds6ngel

⭒ Romantic!Eddie blurb

@gxtitobxby

⭒ The Princess and the Freak | Part 2

“I can’t help but dream of his head between my thighs, how his hair would feel against my—”

@/mediocredreams on ao3

⭒ Extra Credit

Your professor offers you a very personal in-home tutoring session.

@/ghostproofbaby on ao3

⭒ Twenty Four Hours

in which eddie munson and you absolutely hate each other's guts. what happens when your friends make a bet that you can't spend more than twenty four hours consecutively together?

(Y'ALL MUST READ IT ISTG ITS SO GOOD)

@/decembersfinest on ao3

⭒ Living After Midnight

Being a perpetual people-pleaser meant that you were constantly putting others before yourself--particularly your parents and the eccentric guests who stayed at their motel. But when a surly and mysterious musician checked in indefinitely, he flipped your whole world on its head.

@littlexdeaths

⭒ Band Practice

when band practice doesn’t go as planned…

@eddiexmunsonlover

⭒ One Step Away From You

You move back to Hawkins after 3 years away to finish out your senior year. Can you salvage the friendship you once had with your ex best friend, Eddie? Will you be able to push down your deeper feelings for him, or will it all come bubbling out in disaster?

@/nerdsarehot on ao3

⭒ A Kiss to Remember

⭒ Flustered

@/GreyPetticoats on ao3

⭒ Wing Man

Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wingman for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

@eddiesghxst

⭒ Riding Eddie drabble

[munson-blurbs]

Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: Being a perpetual people-pleaser meant that you were constantly putting others before yourself--particularly your parents and the eccentric guests who stayed at their motel. But when a surly and mysterious musician checked in indefinitely, he flipped your whole world on its head. (3.1k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, drug use, parental conflict, poverty, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

♫ A/N: Thank you to my numerous beta readers, including but not limited to @the-unforgivenn, @lofaewrites, @lokis-army-77, and @corroded-hellfire, and to @hellfire--cult for the divider. I am forever indebted to y'all.

chapter one: room for one more

It was always the quiet nights, wasn't it? The ones where the only sounds came from cars barreling down Queens Boulevard and splashing through puddles left by an earlier rainstorm, or from the clock ticking on the wall. 

The ones where your mind wandered until you’d thought yourself in circles, overanalyzing every last decision you had ever made.

The ones where you allowed your guard just down enough that the slightest oddity threw you off-balance—something or someone out of place. 

It was during the quiet nights like that night where you should have expected the unexpected, because New York City never stayed still for long. 

The evening’s sluggishness was normal; tourism always slowed in the springtime. The newest shows on Broadway were already months old, not to mention the warmer weather brought both an uptick in crime and pollen count. If out-of-towners were going to schlep to the East Coast, they’d prefer to see the cherry blossoms hours south in Washington, DC than to get mugged on the 1 train. 

Business picked up in the winter months when people flocked from around the world to witness the Thanksgiving Day Parade, the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree, or Dick Clark’s Rockin’ New Year’s Eve, even though they were several bus and subway transfers away. Outsiders to the tri-state area struggled to differentiate between boroughs; it was unfortunate for them, but you counted on it to keep business alive. 

The only guests who consistently frequented your family’s motel were junkies looking for a place to shoot up away from the NYPD’s watchful gaze or affair-havers who were considerate enough not to sully their marriage beds—just their vows. You were in no position to judge; their money was what kept the lights on, but it was impossible not to compare your clientele to the suits who stayed at the Marriott down the street. They wouldn‘t even allow homeless folks to sit within twenty-five feet of the building, let alone stay under their roof.

You leaned on the desk, wood grain pinching your elbows. You tapped your pencil against your textbook as you read, its margins cluttered with notes about different types of parent-child attachment styles. 

Sleep prickled at the corners of your eyes, blurring the words on the page in front of you. Focus. 

Secure attachment occurs when—no, you’d already read this line. Twice. 

“Dammit,” you muttered under your breath, gently slapping your cheeks in a futile attempt to stay awake. Taking a full course load instead of your usual part-time was your academic advisor’s ill-conceived idea, bolstered by the prospect of an earlier graduation. In your haste, you’d neglected to consider two important factors: all of your studying now had to be done during your night shifts, and graduating meant telling your parents a truth they were unready to hear. 

They were so proud of the motel, regardless of its reputation. It might as well have been The Plaza from the way your dad boasted about it. The three of you shared an unspoken understanding that you worked the front desk because paying an actual employee would put them under. Maybe if finances weren’t so tight, you could have freely admitted that your future plans didn’t involve taking over the business. 

Your eyelids fluttered shut as your head rested on your book, a small puddle of drool pooling atop Bowlby’s theories. 

Ping ping ping ping!

Time slowly stretched out before you, your conscious brain clawing its way out of its hazy fog. It took a beat for you to recognize that the incessant noise came from someone repeatedly smacking the tiny bell that sat on the desk. 

“Hey, hello?” an impatient voice called out, jolting you from your impromptu nap. You blinked away the residual sleepiness and took in the sight in front of you: a curly-haired man, likely not much older than you were, a cigarette that had been nearly smoked down to the filter tucked between his lips. He had a patched guitar case strapped to his back and clutched a black garbage bag filled with what you hoped was clothing.

“Sorry,” you grumbled, wiping the moisture from your chin. “Need a room?” 

“Mhm.” You could practically hear his eye roll: no, I just stopped by in the middle of the night for a quick chat. Fancy a cup of tea and a scone? 

He plopped the garbage bag on the ground; its soft landing and the way it wrinkled told you that whatever was inside was, thankfully, not a body.

You nodded and turned around to the wall of keys behind you. There was no shortage of rooms; the only occupied one was being rented by Phyllis, a sixty-year-old self-described ‘entertainer of gentleman’ who paid double her bill in exchange for your silence. 

He stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray on the countertop, grinding it into the base for good measure. “How much per night?” he asked, digging into his pants pocket and pulling out a wallet held together with duct tape. 

“Fifteen.”

The man breathed out, his bangs fanning over his forehead. “Jesus.” He fished two twenties and a five from the billfold and placed them in front of you. “This should cover me until Friday, yeah?”

Nodding, you folded the bills and tucked them into the register kept under the desk, only accessible by key because of a series of break-ins during the late ‘70s.

The man lit another cigarette as you pulled out the ledger and a pen. “Name and date here,” you said, pointing to the ‘check in’ column. He took a drag before scrawling his name on the line: Eddie Munson, 5-4-93. 

“All right, you’ll be in…” you scanned the assortment of keys dangling from their hooks. The walls were thin, and this guy seemed decent enough, so you decided to spare him the theatrical sound effects of Phyllis’s room 10 endeavors. “…room 4. Make a right down the hallway, and it’ll be the second door. Can’t miss it if you try.” 

Your attempt at humor fell flat, both of you too exhausted to laugh. You strode past it, clearing your throat as if dispelling the tension. When you placed the key in his calloused palm, you couldn’t help but notice that the base of each fingertip is a half-shade paler than the rest of his skin. 

“Thanks.” Eddie mumbled. He tapped the cigarette above the ashtray, the gray flakes falling into a neat pile. His right bicep flexed underneath his denim jacket as he heaved the garbage bag over his shoulder, careful not to bang it against the guitar. 

He scuttled out of the tiny room masquerading as a lobby, shoulders hunched from the weight of the bag and of the burdens he inevitably carried. No one shows up to a motel in the middle of the night without a story or two. 

After years of greeting guests at the front desk, you liked to think you had a decent read on them. Eddie was quiet, maybe even introspective, but not necessarily shy. He was tired; no, more than that: he was worn down, like so many other people who had come through these doors. 

Most importantly, Eddie didn’t seem like he'd be much trouble. He didn’t stumble in wasted and reeking of booze or fidgeting as he awaited a fix. He wasn’t shouting or poorly concealing a wandering eye or making lewd comments. He’d made pretty much no impression at all besides being a bit gruff, which was just fine with you. Your personality wasn't composed of rainbows and sunshine at this hour either.

You looked at the clock and sighed when it only read 2:17. It’s already tomorrow, you thought grimly. Just under four hours until you could walk ten feet to your room, curl up in your bed, and sleep until it was time for your afternoon class. After years of balancing school and work, you were in the last two weeks of your final semester, and then…what? You casually inform your parents that you were leaving the family business–essentially forcing them to close it–to pursue a career in social work? 

That was sure to go over well.  

To their knowledge, you were studying hotel management and hospitality in order to “improve the business.” That was why they’d relented when you’d asked to start taking classes, switching you over to the night shift to avoid having to hire a new employee.

What they didn’t know is that your school didn’t even offer that as a major. Nor were they aware of the acceptance letter into NYU’s Masters of Social Work program that was stashed inside your dresser drawer, hidden from sight. That was a conversation for another day when you found the strength to face their disappointment.

Chaos waited to strike until the end of your shift. 

Just as you packed your book back into your bag, a familiar, skunky odor wafted past your nostrils. 

Ignore it, you thought. Let it be Dad’s problem when he takes over in five minutes. But if you could smell it, so could any of the cops patrolling the boulevard. One more citation and the motel was in jeopardy of being permanently shut down, and you couldn’t take that risk.

With a frustrated sigh, you yanked open the desk drawer and reached in for a pen, instead pulling out an unopened box of crayons. A twenty-four pack of Crayola—the good kind. You plucked a waxy cornflower blue from its spot and scribbled Be back soon on a Post-It note, sticking it on the front of the desk. Grabbing the pepper spray canister from its spot next to the register, just in case, you started down the hall. Marijuana wasn’t Phyllis’s drug of choice, though it might have been one of her various gentleman suitors’, but the scent was too strong to be coming all the way from room 10.

Maybe this Eddie Munson was trouble, afterall.

You knocked on his door, firmly but without aggression. It certainly wasn’t the first time you interrupted someone’s buzz, and it wouldn’t be the last. You knew better than to go in guns a-blazing; it’s easier to catch flies with sugar than vinegar. 

Eddie opened it after a moment, cracking it halfway and revealing a lit joint pinched between his plush lips. One forearm was perched on the doorframe, showing off faded ink of a litter of flying bats and a dragon-esque creature. He was clad in only navy blue boxer briefs, but his lack of attire was no surprise. Many guests were shameless, not bothering to cover the holes in their Fruit of the Loom tighty-whities and showcasing faded yellow stains on the crotch. What confused you was the elastic waistband proudly proclaiming ‘Calvin Klein’ that cut off the soft hair trailing from his belly button. It seemed absurd that he would have been lugging around any designer clothes in that trash bag, but there was no other possibility. 

“Can I help you?” he asked, shaking his curly bangs out of his face. Half-lidded brown eyes scanned your form, trying to determine whether you were a narc or trying to bum some bud off of him. His window was cracked open enough to let in fresh air, which also meant that the acrid smell could easily be let out.

“You can’t smoke that here,” you reported matter-of-factly, just as you had a million times before. When he cocked a challenging brow, you continued. “Cigarettes are fine, but no weed. The police will come after us and you.”

He looked around the room, unbothered, and absentmindedly scratched at his bare chest. A demon’s head was sketched just above a sparse patch of hair. Under different circumstances, or maybe in another life altogether, you would’ve asked him about his tattoos; if they had some philosophical meaning or were the products of spur-of-the-moment decisions. You could have blathered on about the ideas you had for your own future tattoos, if you ever worked up the nerve to actually get one. 

“You mean to tell me that with all of the skeevy shit that goes on around here, the cops are gonna waste their time on a little pot?” He scoffed and took another defiant pull, holding it for a few seconds before exhaling away from you.

I guess chivalry isn’t dead, you mused, stifling an eye roll. “No, but they’re always looking for an excuse to ‘investigate,’’' you threw air-quotes around the last word, “so they can bust us for more serious things, and that is the perfect one.” You gestured to the joint only to be met with an eye roll. “Look, you can either put it out, smoke it somewhere else, or you can leave. Full refund, but you can’t stay here.”

His stare locked onto your steely eyes and clenched jaw, only breaking when you’d straightened your posture to stand your ground. “Whatever,” he huffed, but he snuffed it out. A glimmer of a smile danced on his lips, disappearing nearly as quickly as it arrived. Despite its fleeting nature, it managed to thaw you enough so that your arms weren’t held quite so tight to your body, your expression less rigid. “Just trying to relax and get some sleep, like you were while you were supposed to be ‘working.’” It’s his turn to supply the air-quotes, both in mockery and as a gotcha. A teasing lilt elevated his voice, smoothing out the edge he’d greeted you with earlier. 

“I wasn’t sleeping, just…resting my eyes,” you volleyed back, your smirk betraying any semblance of the tough façade you’d worn. 

Eddie crossed his arms and walked over to the garbage bag of clothes. He rummaged through it for a moment before procuring a pair of gray sweatpants, stepping into them hurriedly as though he just remembered his minimal attire. 

“Maybe if you chose more interesting reading material, you wouldn’t be sl—resting your eyes on the job,” he amended, gesturing to the textbook in your canvas tote bag. “Ever heard of Stephen King?”

“I live in a motel, not under a rock.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You live here?”

Shit. That wasn’t information you regularly divulged. Sure, this guy seemed harmless, but looks can be deceiving. Prime example: wearing designer underwear while using a trash bag in lieu of a suitcase. 

It was too late to double back, so you nodded. “Yeah,” you admitted reluctantly. The sole of your sneaker dug into the old carpet. 

Eddie looked like he wanted to say more, lips parted and eyes wide like there was a follow-up question sitting on the tip of his tongue. Before he could ask it, your gaze landed on the clock radio: six AM on the dot. 

“I need to go,” you said hurriedly. Shame at your sudden shyness burned a hole in your belly. Eddie Munson was a guest; for all intents and purposes, he was a total stranger. There was no reason to be intimidated by him. “Good luck falling asleep,” you added with a weak smile. 

The easy banter that had been building between you dissipated in an instant, taking his good mood with it. His goodbye was a sardonic salute, the mattress springs creaking wearily as soon as you closed the door behind you. 

Sure enough, your dad was in the tiny lobby, assessing some peeling wallpaper. “Gotta fix that,” he mumbled to himself, thumbnail picking at it aimlessly. He turned around when he heard the door open and smiled when he saw you. 

“Sorry, I was helping out a guest,” you rushed to explain, hoping he wasn't too anxious to find the desk left unattended. 

The wrinkles in your dad’s forehead became more pronounced. “Is everything alright?” The phrase ‘helping out a guest’ could range from unclogging a toilet to calling the police for a domestic dispute. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you reassured him quickly, flashing an exaggerated thumbs-up. “No law enforcement necessary. Didn’t even need to use the pepper spray.” You waved the canister in your palm before placing it back. 

He beamed, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your scalp. “It’s times like this where I just know I’ll be leaving this place in good hands.” 

You swallowed the bile that crept up your throat and feigned a smile when  he pulled you in for a tight hug. The mingled scents of Irish Spring soap and drugstore aftershave tickled your nose, and tears stung along your lash line. 

If only you knew, you thought, giving him one last squeeze before you headed to your room. Disappointed wouldn’t even begin to cover it. 

Your parents would never say the word aloud; they’d look at each other and heave identical weighted sighs. Their lifelong goal of a long-standing family business would vanish in the blink of an eye. Dad would pretend there was a chance that they could afford a new hire, even going so far as to fumble through the years of financial statements before inevitably throwing in the towel; Mom would force a pained smile and hoarsely encourage you to follow your dreams, even at the expense of theirs.

You shook the thought away as you trudged towards your room, sneakered feet like sandbags below you.  Dwelling on this scenario had you teetering on the brink of insanity, so you’d willed yourself to focus on something else. Anything else.

Like the motel’s newest guest and his smile. The way it softened the hard lines on his face, offering you a glimpse of how he wore happiness. Something about it made you want to see him happy again. 

You can’t even figure out how to make yourself happy, you thought, peeling back the starchy sheets and finally crawling into bed, much less a stranger. For all you knew, he was just relaxed because his high was starting to kick in, and not from some warming presence you’d supplied. 

The sun cracked pink through the sky, visible through the paper-thin curtains hanging on the window. You had become accustomed to this backwards routine, able to fall asleep while daylight broke. It took a few extra moments this time; you were anticipating marijuana-tinged fumes to float through the vents when Eddie ignored your instructions. 

It was that flicker of a smile that had you almost certain he would spark up once you’d left. The smile of someone who so naturally flouted authority that he no longer bragged about it. Yet time ticked by without a hint of evidence that he was smoking again. 

Which begged the question: if the smile didn’t signify defiance, what did it mean?

Eddie Munson is definitely trouble, you surmised just before you drifted off, but nothing you can’t handle.

--

taglist:

@theintimatewriter @mandyjo8719 @storiesbyrhi @lady-munson @moonmark98 @squidscottjeans @therealbaberuthless @emxxblog @chrissymjstan @loves0phelia @kthomps914 @aysheashea @reidsbtch @mmunson86 @b-irock @ginasellsbooks @erinekc @the-unforgivenn @dashingdeb16 @micheledawn1975 @yujyujj @eddies-acousticguitar @daisy-munson @kellsck @bewitchedmunson @foreveranexpatsposts @mykuup @chatteringfox @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @sapphire4082 @katethetank @sidthedollface2 @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @mysteris-things @mrsjellymunson @josephquinnsfreckles @the-disaster-in-waiting @eddielowe @hugdealer @rip-quizilla @munson-girl @fishwithtitz @costellation-hunter @cloudroomblog @emsgoodthinkin

[nothing-tolose]

All Because I Liked A Girl.

Part 2.

Warning: death threats, panic attack (?), lmk if i missed anything!

A/N: still kinda short anyway but yeah here it is. english isn't my first language so pls pls i hope u guys can understand t____t love u guys sm xoxo

Part 1.

🇵🇸 Daily click.

You keep your phone on screen after you saw those comments on school's blog. You couldn't tell what's happening right now, too many comments made you so hard to search the problem. You bring that thing to everywhere; kitchen, living room, porch, or even to the bathroom.

It's been two hours since you woke up and you haven't showered yet. You were too focused on your school's blog. You sit on your dining chair with a cup of water in front of you, fingers still scrolling and searching.

'Why there's so much bad comments towards me? Why do people keep mentioning Ellie and Anne in between my name?'

You keep asking the same question in your head. You have no idea. Because, oh really, what the fuck is happening right now? You didn't even do anything wrong before!

And you stopped scrolling when you saw Anne's post.

11 hours ago

@annel1se-torres

oh.. i think.. people should be know about a girl who just stole someone's girlfriend, yeah? been hiding this for months but i guess today is the right time to tell you all. aaanddd this isn't about a gossip at all since it was happened to me:)

i would never understand why did she still can smile so brightly after she stole my gf, oops, i mean.. my ex. sorry my bad ;(

there's no girls supporting girls when the one have NO SHAME 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

anyway, have a good night everyone! <3

You froze. You figured out that her post was the problem of all those bad comments, and that post finally answered your curiosity.

Who doesn't know about Anne, though? Everyone knew her as an 'IT GIRL' or something like that on your school. She was dated with Ellie back then and broke up 5 months ago. Everyone always praising her like she's the perfect one, no one could replace her. Good grades, good looking, good personality. Oh, she got them all.

You were confused. It was 5 months ago, you started talking with Ellie 3 months ago, and started dating with her a month after that. There's a little big gap between their relationship with yours, right? Why did she bring up about that and saying that you stole Ellie?

Did she really talking about you? Or you were just overanalyzing? Absolutely not. She haven't been in relationship after her break up with Ellie. If the post wasn't about you and Ellie, then who?

People in her comments section were shading you and even mentioning YOUR NAME.

@bracchiosoreuzz

I THINK I KNOW WHO ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT :0 her name starts with * right?

@annel1se-torres replied

@brachhiosoreuzz girl i know you're smart but shh 🤫

@butter-cheese777

i fucking agree w you anne, no girls supporting girls when the one have NOOO SHAAAMEEE FOR STEALING SOMEONE'S GIRLFRIEND!

@rainawastinghertime

lmfao, she's ugly tho why did ellie accept her to be her girlfriend? ugh she's not worthy to be compared with you, girl

@77-s18

ugly bitch always steal everything

@plhrmc

she should be dead fr i don't care what anyone says

@dont-lookat-m33 replied

@plhrmc hey delete that, you're going too far

@dont-lookat-m33

are you sure that she stole ellie from you? i mean, they started dating like around three months after your break up. think again, anne. im on your side if they were dating a week after the break up. she's already getting a death threat because of your post. not everything should be about you though.

@77-s18 replied

@dont-lookat-m33 guys it's her!!! use your real account you loser XD

You shouldn't have seen those comments, you should've just see the post. Those comments were worst than the first you saw before. The way Anne replied their comments, and didn't even care about the others. What's her actual problem with you? You both were never interacting before. All you know is Anne's post was absolutely a lie because you didn't even care abour her or thinking about her when you talking to Ellie for the first time until you dating with her.

It was your first time getting really really bad comments and death threats. You were definitely scared. Firstly they said they'll spit on you on Monday morning if you show up, and now they wishing you dead.

You can't stop scrolling and reading the comments, it gets worse. God, they made you scared to death. Your body starts to shaking, your hands too. You hold your tears.

Your phone buzzed when you were about to see more comments on Anne's post. Lauren calls you again.

"Hey, I just found the–"

"Lau, I.." You couldn't talk, words suddenly disappeared. Lauren can hear your breath, and you were panting. "I saw those comments. They–"

Lauren went silent, she took a deep breath, "Would you close the blog right now? Please?" Now she sounds more softer than the last call you had with her.

You nod slightly.

You swear to God, you can't hold your tears anymore. You were too scared, scared of what will happen next. What if they really spit on you? What if they give you a disgusting stare on you? And what if—

Then you cried.

You hear Lauren's voice from the call, "I'll be there in five minutes. Just sit there where you are and don't go to somewhere else." And she hang up.

Of course you're not going to anywhere. Your feet were limp, you couldn't do anything except crying.

Your phone screen was on, you can see the notifications on the screen there.

messages request from ssalxxxx

god i really hope you the worst

she's dating with you because she just wanted to make anne jealous

poor girl

messages request from qwrtxxxx

ellie was never happy with you and anne is better than you, girlie

i'll be waiting for your funeral 💘

You shut your eyes, you don't want to see it. But hey, remember that curiosity killed the cat.

messages from els <33

babe are you okay??

taglist: @backedbeansh

[specialinterestshows]

Find a safe harbor in this latest chapter of my Rhea Ripley x lady!reader fic, Absolute Smokeshow.

Warnings for this section: Parasocial interaction mention, anxiety, cannabis (weed), crying

-

Absolute Smokeshow (Part 77 of ?): Un Poco De Azúcar

“Creeps lurking around my apartment. Spending a few days at Marisol’s”

You hit send on your update message to Rhea as you walked up to Mari’s door. The anxiety that you might be imposing - despite the fact that she had offered to have you over - showed in your timid knock. As you waited for a response, you looked around. No one had followed you on your drive over; you had made sure of that by taking the least direct route. Still, there was no shaking the feeling that someone might be watching you even now.

Just when you thought you might have to knock again, the door opened and the sweet smell of weed and cinnamon wafted over you.

Marisol’s warm, brown eyes sparkled the moment she saw you; but her warm smile faltered when she noticed how stressed you looked as you walked in.

“Ay, cariño, when’s the last time you smoked?”

“… Last night,” you admitted, pulling off your hat and mask when you heard the door close; you’d needed your wits about you all day.

“Well, I packed a bowl as soon as I got your text,” Mari turned the lock and gestured to the bong on her table, “Water and some snacks are there, too. You relax however you need to, and let me know if you need space. I put new sheets on my bed for you, too” - she could see you about to protest and raised one finger to stop you - “The couch folds out, I’ll be fine.”

You were touched by how thoughtful all of this was, setting your things down and trying to formulate your thanks. Suddenly, the tension you had been feeling since becoming a subject of public speculation burst, emotions flooding you all at once. Your vision blurred and before you knew it, you had thrown yourself into Marisol’s arms and were sobbing into her shirt.

The way she held you was warm and tender, with a patience that seemed to say she would sooner fall asleep than let go before you needed her to.

“No te preocupes, preciosa,” she whispered, “You’re safe.”

Somehow that made you cry harder. Maybe it was the validation that you no longer felt safe when you were facing the world alone.

When you finally pulled away, the first thing you saw was the large pool of tears and snot you had left on Mari’s shoulder. That was embarrassing.

“Sorry about your shirt,” you mumbled, hand hovering in front of your nose as you looked around for a box of tissues.

“I have plenty of other clean shirts,” Marisol reassured you, walking to her room as you headed toward the tissues on the table, “I’ll change, no problem.”

As you sat down and blew your nose, you checked your phone. Two messages from Rhea:

“Are you okay?”

“I can get you a room at a hotel if you need it”

You quickly tapped out your response and hit “send”, not wanting to make your girlfriend worry:

“I’m okay! It’s safe here, no one followed me”

Setting your phone down, you eyeballed the bong, bowl full to the brim. As you contemplated whether you should wait for your hostess before taking greens, Mari walked back in. Her shirt was now a calm blue with a taco printed onto it; a contrast from the bright pink she had been wearing earlier.

“Trash is over there,” Marisol said, making you realize you had been balling up your tissues, compressing them into your hand instead of disposing of them. Throwing them out, you noticed Mari wasn’t sitting down.

“Care to join me?” you asked, grabbing the lighter from the table.

She visibly relaxed and gave you a grin before sitting down next to you.

“Muchas gracias.”

You started the bowl, keeping a careful eye on the inside of the bong as you inhaled. When a column of thick, white smoke swirled up to greet you, you took out the bowl and used all the power in your lungs to pull the hit through. Holding it for a few seconds, you turned to Mari and leaned in.

Exhaling as soon as your lips make contact, you lingered into the shotgun until there was no smoke left and it had become a kiss.

Your face was warm as Mari pulled away slightly to exhale before giving you another smooch. The shy smile it brought to your face made her giggle before she motioned for you to take another hit. The two of you continued in this fashion until the bowl was cashed. There was something about Mari that put you at ease, even with the voice in the back of your head reminding you that a terrifying world awaited outside.

“Did you bake these from scratch?” you asked, looking at the spread of cookies on the table, “They smell delicious.”

“Help yourself,” Mari insisted, grinning when you did, “Family recipe. They don’t talk to me since I came out, but I’ll always have this.”

You watched her take a bite and smile contentedly; the cookies were, in fact, delicious. As you chewed, the hits you’d been taking seemed to catch up to you all at once. Exhaustion was creeping in, making it difficult for you to want to ask your hostess about what might end up being a very long story. Mari noticed you getting tired, too, as you sleepily brushed the crumbs from your mouth.

“My bed is right around the corner,” she reminded you, smiling when you nodded and stood, “Buenas noches, belleza.”

“Good night,” you replied, carrying your things in with you, “And thanks again.”

Catching a glimpse of yourself in a small, round mirror on one of Mari’s bedroom walls, you groaned at your reflection. Eyes already puffy, you were certain it would be obvious you had been crying when you went back to work tomorrow.

Mari’s sheets were soft as you crawled under the blanket, and you contemplated how you were going to thank her for her kindness. After all, this certainly wasn’t how either of you had first planned on you spending the night in her bed.

You checked your phone one last time before going to sleep. One message from Rhea lit up the screen, a small black heart at the end:

“I love you so much”

You smiled and replied with the same:

“I love you so much.”

[end part seventy-seven of ?]

Part 78: “And They Were Roommates”

-

Tag list (thank you!)

@littlemiss-fanficlover , @babybatlover , @girlofpink , @kagome2909 , @domripley , @wiccanpriestess , @falloutboy-lover , @aut0luminescence , @riverina69 , @itsrheasgirl , @1-800-sinister , @ripleylove , @beeposts , @teganc

[skotchtapeowner]

Ok frens, I have some thoughts regarding episode 77 (latest free ep) so obvious spoilers ahead

Also, this isint me hopping on the Annabel hate train, I love her to the end of time, and I want to see her character be as morally grey as possible because that’s what makes her that much more compelling;

So a lot of people think that the wallening happened because Monty Will and Ada originally wanted to put Lenore in the wall first, but then Annabel stepped in and volunteered Duke (it coudnt have been anyone else) instead to protect Lenore. That in itself is very interesting but what I would find way more intriguing is if it really was Annabel’s plan all along…

Putting lenore in a wall benefits no one, monty likes toying with her and torturing her, so getting rid of her this early on would kinda ruin his fun, I still feel like deep down, ada still really likes lenore and the Annabel wouldn’t volunteer her for obvious reasons.

So then why put duke in the wall in the first place? Well as shitty as it sounds, duke disappearance benefits Monty and Annabel the most, Monty gets his room to himself and gets to get rid of Lenore right hand man, essentially being a way to torment Lenore, and Annabel gets to get rid of Lenore’s main distraction, since Lenore is messing up Annabel’s plan to protect her friends (she could also be a lil jealous of duke getting all her attention as well)

I also find the crime to be wayyyy too specific and complexe for it to have been purely Monty will and Adas idea, Annabel is a strategist after all, and it’s kinda the perfect plan to get rid of someone in these circumstances. If duke dies, he’s in a fuckin wall with no chance to escape, and dying in Nevermore means you get orbed. Assuming your orbed soul spawns where your body was when you died, dukes orb would be stuck in the wall with no way out and no way to be found. It’s litteraly impossible to find duke. If Annabel didint have anything to do with the original plan, I think Monty and co woudve just killed him and buried him somewhere, but that woudve left a trail that could be easily traced, and hi orb could’ve been free.

The question remains, are we really gonna hate Annabel for doing what she thinks is best to save her lover? She said it herself that she sees everyone around her as pieces to her game, so this isint a deceiving move on her part, at least for us the readers. And again, this all happened before the widows watch, so Annabel didint know yet just how far Lenore would go for her friends, if she knew this information before then she might not have done what she did. And of course the method at which dukes dissappearance is mega cruel, but we can’t forget that Monty is also a there and clearly had an influence on how he wanted things to happen.

Annabel being the one behind it all is ti me the most plausible and the most interesting story line, for the angst the drama and eventually the reconciliation (lennabel are endgame after all so them getting back together is inevitable).

No hate to this theory but if annabel was just protecting Lenore, and volunteered duke in her place, I find that it’s kinda a cop out, if you’re gonna make her villainous, might as well go all out right?

We also can’t forget that this is a one for all hunger games style story, people are going to be trying to kill each other left and right since there’s only one life, and we shouldn’t expect everyone to be all friendship first or whatever.

To me, morally grey/ corrupted characters are waaayyy more interesting m, and that’s litteraly the nature of Annabel’s character, just how far would she go to get her and Lenore out of nevermore? This series dosent pull any punches when it comes to morality, and that’s why I love it so so so so much, it’s brilliant story telling!

And then personally for me, my two favorite characters are Annabel and duke so this whole scenario is ripping me apart and I love it ✨

(Also, i wouldn’t be mad at all if I’m wrong and she did in fact do a wall swap, both possibilities are interesting!)

[chaotic-mystery]

It's pretty much all Dbf!Joel / Bfd!Joel unless stated otherwise

Calling You to Say Goodnight

Joel calls you to tell you goodnight & it leads to more(less than 1k)

Needy Baby

Joel takes care of you in your dad's garage. (less than 1k)

Baby Doll

You got a new tattoo, and Joel doesn’t know how to feel about it at first. (1.6k)

Say It Right

what happens when your dad leaves and Joel looks too good working on an old mustang? (1.9k)

Peeping Neighbor

Mr. Miller is your neighbor and he keeps calling you at the worst time…what could he possibly want? (1.7k)

Room 77 | part two

It was a great plan at first to carpool with Joel & have him drive to your dad’s vacation house, until it wasn’t. (3k)

Call Your Bluff

Joel forgets date night and has guys night instead, which makes you act out. It leaves him to punishing you the only way he knows how. (3k)

Right Place, Right Time

Sarah’s home from college and you visit her…and her dad. What happens when you find his lewd magazine collection that resembles you a little too much? (3.9k)

Dark Angel

Joel's too soft on you and he finally lets you see the real him.(2.5k)

Better Luck Next Time

Joel gets a little too excited seeing you again and shoots early. (1.6k)

Pink Haze

You missed Joel while he was gone on patrol, so of course you'd welcome him home with your mouth first. (2k)

Consider It A Favor

Your AC breaks in your car and the one person around to help is your neighbor, Mr.Miller. (3.4k)

SERIES

Code Red (dbf!Joel x f!OC) -Ongoing

Series Summary: Moving back to Texas was in the cards, falling for your dad best friend, however, was not.

[chunkypossum]

@azrisweek || DAY 6: Changes || 11k words

CW: These first two chapters aren't so bad but consider not picking this one up if you have problems with blood, gore and heavy shit like that.... I am rewatching Hannibal and it is quickly taking this fic in a direction I wasn't sure I was going to go in.... not saying I will, but it might become more of a horror than it was originally intended to be The long list of things Eris had found to be grateful for over the years, not so surprisingly, didn't exactly feature a quiet, unassuming existence. The thrill in what he was demanded pride and exhibition, and gods was he good at playing that game. Well, he had been good at it. Now, as much as he loathed to admit it, there was an odd satisfaction to be found in the simplicity he had agreed to. Unfortunately, as Eris quickly finds out you can't always have the brutes you want... and eat them too.

Azriel doesn't want a lot out of life. His abusive father sold him to the underground as a teen to pay off debt and that's all he has known ever since. Night after night, fight after fight. When he witnessed something he was definitely not supposed to, a part of him was changed forever. Azriel chases dreams he never thought he would have and finds himself facing choices that might force him to change more drastically than he ever thought possible.

F I C

P L A Y L I S T

SPECIAL shoutout to @acourtofladydeath @pippsmcgee and @born-to-riot for their eyes and thoughts and MAJOR help with this fic. It struggled coming out of me and thanks to them I have such a better vision for it.

READ CHAPTER 1 AND 2 ON AO3

The ceiling was arched in carved gray stone. Archaic scenes lining the walls and ceiling depicted men being torn apart by beasts, babies thrown into fires and women dancing naked in great forests. Some of the women were smiling, and some of them were screaming. It was another round room bookend by hallways. Both the hallways and the round center were lined on all sides with Iron doors. Stamped designs in the metal directly contradicted the harshness of the stone reliefs with innocent-looking animals, fields of flowers, and night skies. Designed to put people at ease, the peaceful art stood out in the otherworldly glow of the greenish light emanating from the wall scones, hiding the horror of the stone from all those but with the sharpest eyes.  Where the party went to die. Once-upon-a-time it had been a favorite of Eris’, mostly because the party wasn’t dying for him, nothing ever did. The Abyss was a depraved seduction all its own. Many doors were shut, but some more remained open, either vacant or because the occupants enjoyed putting on a show.   Taking his time, Eris let his senses open up, relishing in the past for a lingering moment or two. He marked the closed doors where faint screaming could be heard from the other side of the near soundproof material, both in ecstasy and … something else. His hands rested easily in the pockets of his jeans keeping him from reaching out and peeking behind half-open doors to the treats waiting within. 

If anyone wants on or off the taglist please let me know!

Holla at ya boi if you want on or off the Azris tag train : @talibunny30 @iftheshoef1tz @born-to-riot @fell-in-luvs @fieldofdaisiies @aktrain @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @secret-third-thing @acourtofladydeath @pippsmcgee @youvereachedthenearest-lovergirl @baileybird71 @skyesayshi @yanny-77 @areyoudreaminof @unanswered-stars @futurehunt @ninthcircleofprythian @matrixsss @going-through-shit @c-starstuff-man0 @jules-writes-stories @the-darkestminds @krowiathemythologynerd @cauldronblssd @hieragalbatorixdottir @yourlazykitkat @hellolordling @climbthemountain2020 @christeak @lilah-asteria  

[homestuckreplay]

Homestuck Is A Game, Who Is The Player?

Week 3 Retrospective

'Video games have long been associated with spectatorship as well as play, from their origins in quarter-fueled arcades, where high score displays implied the presence of admiring or competitive spectators, to their migration to home screens and consoles. Live streaming chat emulates these older models, but its interaction with economies of scale on streaming platforms brings a different kind of intimacy and intensity to the experience. Chat lets spectators feel like they are there with the streamer as well as a part of a crowd, even if they are alone in their room.' [Jeremy Antley - emphasis mine]

From Homestuck’s very first page, the comic has made something clear. We are not allowed to immerse ourselves in John Egbert’s world. There is a layer of separation between us, an interface mediating our access to his life and story, a voiceover narration from the person who’s really in control. Who is this person, and what form does their control over John take?

Homestuck is presented like a video game, yet unlike a video game, we don’t control the character’s movements with arrow keys or have the chance to type our own commands directly into the text box. Instead of being able to explore the game on our own terms, we are confined to a specific and predetermined route, even though others seem theoretically possible. Simply put, we are not the ones playing the game.

Essay continued under the cut - about 2.6k words

I think there are two really important questions to consider when analyzing the meta elements of Homestuck and treating it as a game. The first - what kind of game is it? The second - where exactly do we stand in relation to the player(s)?

The most obvious answer to question one is ‘Homestuck is a text based adventure game.’ This guide to text based adventures is a great overview, and we can map the example commands here onto commands we’ve seen in Homestuck. ‘Examine room’ (p.4) is a one-word action, ‘Captchalogue smoke pellets’ (p.9) is an action and direct object, and ‘Nail poster to wall’ (p.19) includes the indirect object. John hasn’t given any orders yet - he’s too nice a guy for that - but ‘Report progress to TG’ (p.39) is definitely communicating with another character. All of these, and most other command lines, feel like reasonable instructions that could be recognized by a game.

However, commands like ‘Fondly regard cremation’ (p.52) and ‘Play haunting piano refrain’ (p.77) honestly feel too characterful to be fully interpreted by a computer, and ‘Squawk like an imbecile and shit on your desk’ (p.16) is… well, I tried typing this into the command prompt for the classic text adventure Zork, and got the following response.

A text adventure is just not set up to interpret wacky, left field ideas, much less respond to them in an entertaining way. And we know there is a real person behind Homestuck doing exactly that.

If my party enters the wizard’s study in Dungeons & Dragons 4th Edition, and I tell the Dungeon Master that I squawk like an imbecile and sit on the wizard’s desk, that statement will be understood. Sure, the DM will probably call me an idiot and put a nasty spike trap on the desk, but what I said will become part of the story in the way that a nonsense command in a text based video game never can. It’s interesting to think of Homestuck as a tabletop roleplaying game, where the narrator is the Game Master, the command prompt is a player, and John is a player character (presumably TT, TG and GG are the rest of his party and they’re just really late to the session).

Homestuck isn’t just text based, though - it has a strong visual element, including interfaces and overlays where the player can click and drag items between John’s inventory and his environment, or around his space. This suggests it could also be a point and click adventure game, a genre that grew out of text based games as graphics improved, and is defined by a strong inventory management component (check), puzzle solving quests (check - we’ve recently solved our first quest of acquiring the Sburb Beta) and dialog trees (????). The sprite based, isometric art style is really good for getting an overview of the space and seeing possible interactable objects, and Homestuck does feature extended dialog sequences - we don’t know if there are other possible inputs from John, but it's interesting to think that there might be.

These three genres - text based adventures, point and click adventures, and tabletop roleplaying games - all developed throughout the 1970s and 80s. It’s reasonable that Andrew Hussie (born 1979) could have grown up with some of these games. But to answer the second question, ‘where do we stand in relation to the player’, we might need to look at media forms still in their infancy - let’s plays, livestreams, and actual play.

[Michael Sawyer, 2004]

In the past few years, ‘Let’s Play [Game]’ has become a relatively popular thread format on the Something Awful forums, as well as personal websites. This began with posters taking screenshots of their playthroughs of a game and adding commentary in the text. The medium has now advanced to video and is typically hosted on YouTube, with commentary overlaid. Either format gives a creator the space to play through as much of the game as they choose, and then edit exactly what content they want to show to the audience, providing commentary after the fact. 

Homestuck, with its per-page illustrations, could be seen as a long thread of forum posts by the player, each including screenshots as they move through the game. The inclusion of short Flash animations shows the edge into video, and makes me wonder if we’ll see longer or more complex videos, perhaps with voiceover narration, as Homestuck expands its focus. The self-referential and aggressive yet helpful commentary in Homestuck is similar in tone to Sawyer's playthrough above, and could easily be the work of a player who knows where the story will go, at least in the short term, and is dropping hints to the audience while purposefully concealing some things.

Livestreaming video games is a similar concept to Let's Plays, but performed in real time. Often hosted on Justin.tv, an open video broadcast website that’s been gaining prominence in the past couple of years, a livestream is an improvised and unedited way to watch someone game. Any commentary from the creator happens without knowledge of how the playthrough will turn out. Homestuck, by Hussie’s own admission, is being written similarly in real life - they don’t know more than the broad strokes of how the story will go, and it’s possible that neither the author nor the narrator knows the long term implications of an action such as John stealing his dad’s PDA. 

Livestreams open the possibility for viewers to influence game events, if the streamer listens to their audience. We know this is true in Homestuck - readers are able to submit commands, and some are chosen for the story. The real time nature of Homestuck, waiting each day for the new update, is equivalent to waiting for a streamer to come online and start playing again so we can find out where their game goes next. This is compounded by us having no access to Homestuck outside of the streamer - we cannot buy and play this game for ourselves, it’s still in some kind of early or limited access, and the streamer controls all our knowledge. 

The livestream is definitely most similar to how Homestuck is made by its author, but it's hard to say whether its narrator is commentating in real time, or after the fact. I can't find any definite clues in our pages so far - I think the narrator wants to seem smart and superior, but I can't say whether they have the knowledge to back it up.

[img source]

Our final media format is known as Actual Play. Almost a year ago, the creators of Penny Arcade (along with Dungeons & Dragons game designer Chris Perkins) began releasing Acquisitions Incorporated, a short-run, officially licensed podcast where the group plays through a D&D adventure to demonstrate gameplay interspersed with jokes. This isn’t the first time a TTRPG publisher has recorded sessions to help people learn the game, but this idea seems to be crossing over into the entertainment genre - and webcomics are part of that movement.

In the first episode, the group have a brief aside. The DM says that ‘some players prefer to refer to their characters in the third person… others prefer to get into the first,’ and one player says they’ve observed the same thing in World of Warcraft. What’s not explicitly said is that the Game Master typically refers to the player characters in second person, describing what happens to ‘you’ and what ‘you’ see - much like streamers talking to their chat. The blocks of narrative text below pictures in Homestuck could easily be a Game Master balancing giving information to an unruly player, and providing entertainment for the audience. John’s lucky or unlucky moments with his sylladex could be the result of particularly good or bad dice rolls from his unseen player.

Actual play is a really great format for deep diving into a small cast of characters, and exploring their emotional state in ways that aren't intrinsic to a lot of video games. As we're already seeing the beginnings of John's emotional arc, we know this will be a focus, but we need two to four more characters with equally large roles in the story to really form a TTRPG party. Actual play also tends to include a lot of combat and its mechanics. We know Homestuck can handle crunchy mechanics due to the sylladex, but I'd expect to see the Strife concept become just as in depth and central to the story if Homestuck ends up fitting into this mold.

All three of these formats can have a mass audience, just like Homestuck does in reality - but Homestuck also feels like a very personal experience. Two people playing the same video game, even a highly linear game such as Portal or one that doesn’t involve much active interaction such as a visual novel, have slightly different gameplay based on the speed they move through the story and their missteps on the way to finding the solution to a puzzle. 

Similarly, my experience of Homestuck is different from yours. I read the new update every day, while I know some people wait for a few days of updates to build up and then read a larger chunk. Maybe I clicked ‘Aggrieve’ and ‘Abjure’ three times each on p.90, alternating the options, while you clicked ‘Aggrieve’ five times in sequence and then ‘Abjure’ only twice. Maybe I didn’t realize p.110 had an interactive element at first, and skipped over it until somebody pointed it out to me (really telling on myself here). These elements of Homestuck that we have direct control over are currently only a small part of the story, but they do exist.

In this way, Homestuck feels a little bit like sitting in the living room as a kid watching your older brother play a game, begging him to let you take over for a minute, occasionally doing so until he gets frustrated with your inability to Strife and takes the controller back. The nostalgia of the simplistic graphics and the 70s and 80s games that are being evoked only adds to this cozy feeling. If Homestuck starts to add more interactive elements, such as branching paths, opportunities for us to take over the cursor, or a chance for us to use John’s sylladex ourselves and choose what he picks up, it might be worth thinking of Homestuck as different iterations of the same game, each of us watching our own, slightly different player, and even co-playing with them.

So, who IS this narrator? In my mind, I’m trying to draw a clear distinction between the author and the narrator. Hussie is the author in the real world, and the narrator, or player, or GM, exists within the work. Their role is best described on page 82:

‘The game presently eluding you is only the latest sleight of hand in the repertoire of an unseen riddler, one to engender a sense not of mirth, but of lack. His coarse schemes are those less of a prankster than a common pickpocket. His riddle is Absence itself.’

The narrator is this unseen riddler (or perhaps unseenRiddler?), providing a secondary layer of control over what happens and what we are able to see. They’re the person clicking and dragging objects around John’s room, and choosing what actions to take next. The narration is their perspective on the game - whether we see this as a GM describing a scene to their players, or a streamer reading aloud information that the game has given them and providing their own commentary. 

So, we're watching the narrator play Homestuck, in whatever form it takes - but there's another layer to this. On page 22, an equivalence is made between the Sburb Beta, which John was supposed to receive on April 10 (and finally acquired on April 13 in-story, p.100), and the Homestuck Beta, which launched to us on April 10, but was quickly canceled and replaced with Homestuck proper on April 13. The Homestuck beta is linked within the comic, and might be canon within it - the narrator making an initial run at the game before restarting their save (perhaps on a different computer or console?) and trying again. Homestuck the game is currently about a kid who lives in the suburbs - and if the name and logo are anything to go by, Sburb could also be a suburbs-themed game. While we watch the riddler play Homestuck, the riddler will be watching John play the game Sburb. How deep does this go? Are there more layers inwards or outwards?

I’ve been puzzling this over for days, and I’m definitely left with more questions than I can answer. Here are the ones I'm focused on:

Is the unseen riddler playing the game as intended? Now that they’ve passed the tutorial, are they keeping the game on the rails and trying their best to follow a linear story, or are they pushing the boundaries, going for some kind of pacifist or resource-stripped run, trying to interfere with John’s intended story? Have they played the game before, and if so, how does this affect their gameplay?

If the unseen riddler is a character within the story, distinct from the external author, are we the true audience? Will there be an audience within the story, or perhaps other players? If so, how big will it be? What kind of reach does Homestuck the game have, and how many people are playing it or tuning in to watch?

How permeable are the boundaries? Is John simply pixels on a screen for the unseen riddler to play with, with no agency of his own outside of the riddler’s interpretation, like if we were playing The Sims? Or is it possible for the riddler to enter the game, or for John to leave it, and the two of them to communicate directly? Or a middle ground - something like ‘character bleed’ in TTRPGs, where a player embodies a character for so long that despite their not being real, they come to influence each other even outside of gameplay?

What the hell is the Midnight Crew? Is this a different game that exists separately to Homestuck? Will our riddler, or a different one, eventually play it? If we have three games - Homestuck, Midnight Crew, and Sburb - what exactly is the relationship between them, and how interrelated are they?

This is a lot of thoughts for what is, at time of writing, is 125 pages of comedy webcomic. But the story is just beginning, and we’ve been told it’s going to be a long day. Anything could be important, and with the frequent in-text nods to the meta elements - ‘examine third and fourth walls of room’ (p.61), ‘you decide it’s time for less meta, and more beta’ (p.113), the title appearing in the clouds on p.82 that John may or may not be able to see, the integration of the physical captchalogue card into the sylladex interface on p.98 - I don’t want to draw any firm boundaries, or make any assumptions about what is and what isn’t part of the story. Instead, I’ve cataloged the meta elements of Homestuck that might be worth paying attention to as we move through the comic, to develop a more concrete theory in time.

[queenie-official]

Chapter Sixteen: ‘Great big Race’ Bridgerton Au!Anakin

previous chapter: 15

The royal heart series masterlist

a/n: who’s ready for a race 🏇🏇 honestly took me forever to figure out how i wanted it to go😭 otherwise all these chapters would of been out like yesterday but i couldn’t write 🥲 anyways enjoy huns Xx<3💋💋

you were honestly glad you’d told Anakin to stay with his family for the day because it took you way longer to finish going over everything then you initially thought. you didn’t even get to eat dinner with everyone. instead eating in your study as you looked over paper after paper. who knew a race would take this much work to put together.

at the very least you’d finally finished for the day, slouching back in your chair to take a much needed moment to yourself. letting your mind run blank before your anxiety took over.

tomorrow was the big day, the entirety of Alderaan would have their eyes on you and Anakin. only it wasn’t just Alderaan, with the unity of the two kingdoms for the events youd now have the additional eyes of Tatooine on you.

thousands of people watching your every move. thankfully the race would keep them occupied but the ball- maybe it wasn’t your best decision in all honestly. not only would you have to do a welcome speech but everyone will be expecting you to address what happened however brief it may be. you can only hope you don’t tear up as it would probably undo all the progress of showing the Ton all was well you’d put in.

if you can get through without crying, then perform the first waltz with Anakin you could call the entire day a success. silently you prayed all the work you were doing for this would pay off and there would be no slip ups.

to say you slept good that night would be a lie, in all honesty you found the bed felt rather empty without Anakin in it alongside you. the previous night was only the second time he’d shared a bed with you and somehow you’d already grown used to his company. you couldn’t blame him for sleeping in his own room though, not when you were up so late and he’d probably been too occupied with his family to notice.

just when you finally thought you’d be able to rejoin everyone for the day you found yourself isolated once more. Three carriages had been waiting in front of the castle, you’d almost forgotten about that stupid safety protocol rule. but now here you are riding alone. Anakin was in the second carriage behind you, Ahsoka and Obi-wan with him. his parents were riding in the third together, lucky them.

the carriage ride there felt everlasting, bored out of your mind with no one to talk too. it felt like the universe was playing a cruel joke on you, mocking the fact you weren’t truly a part of their family by physically reminding you of the space between you and them. at least when you arrived at the racing grounds you’d be with everyone, then you could pretend like that wasn’t the case.

despite all of the negative thoughts and feelings that plagued your mind there was an overwhelming excitement that tingled throughout your body. Anakin had gone on and on about the races throughout the whole preparation period. he’d explained each rule, and even had his old race horse from Tatooine brought over so he could use it in the race. R2-D2 was the horse's name, you found it an odd one but didn’t want to question him. R2 was a beautiful horse, and looked strong. no wonder Anakin always won.

there was three rounds overall, the fun part was even if you won the first round there was no guarantee you’d participate in the final round. the winner of the first round gets put into the second round alongside a whole new set of people and if they lose that’s it. of course it was also optional if they wanted to participate a second time or not to begin with.

Anakin had said he’d participate in the first round before and won all three a few times, which didn’t surprise you with how passionate he was about the hobby. you both agreed that since he was the king however, he shouldn’t participate till the last round in order to give people of the Ton a chance to win.

looking out the carriage window as the sounds of a crowd began to fill the air, the excitement bubbling even more as you saw the racing grounds come into view. you knew there would be a lot of the Ton here but to see just how many had shown, both warmed you and scared you. you could hear the booming voice of someone announcing your arrival shortly followed by cheers of the Ton.

Braeden had opened your carriage helping you out and onto the ground, you’d actually grown quite fond of him. it was still odd to have someone constantly five paces behind you but you couldn’t deny the convenience, plus after what happened with Valorum it brought you a feeling of safety.

“y/n” Anakin’s voice drew your attention away from your valet, turning to look at him instead. Ahsoka was at his side but seemed to linger behind and stay with Obi-Wan when she’d noticed he was walking over to you, it was a little disheartening but you did your best to push the feeling away.

“are you ready for this?” he asked you, a big goofy smile on his face from how happy he was as he now stood in front of you. you couldn’t help but mirror his expression, he has such a perfect smile. one that always seemed to brighten your own mood, he held out his arm for you to link with yours so you two could walk together.

you didn’t hesitate to link your arm with him, now walking side by side as he gushed about the race and who he thought would win each round. of course confidently bragging about how no one would beat him come the third round. god did you love him, you could listen to him talk for hours about any subject you were sure.

as you guys walked through the back of the stands to go to the special stall designated for the royal family you couldn’t shake that feeling again. like someone was watching you, obviously your people were but this was different.

looking briefly behind you to see if you could spot the source, and sure enough a familiar pair of brown eyes were locked onto you.

you turn back to Anakin refocusing on him but this time you weren’t really listening to what he was saying, your mind was too busy wondering if Ahsoka really disliked you so much. anytime you were in the same place her eyes were on you, tracking your every movement. honestly you felt more judgment from her then you have most people in your life.

the sound of a gun going off rung in the air to signify the first round of the race had begun, silencing the crowd but only for a moment before everyone began shouting and cheering for the respective player they were rooting for. the track was huge, some points of action would be covered from trees but only briefly.

if you thought the crowd was loud you couldn’t believe how loud Anakin was, somehow his voice managed to boom overtop of everyone’s.

well him and Ashoka’s, though even her shouts where significantly quieter than his. it was almost more amusing then the race, Obi-Wan seemed to be more of a silent enjoyed along with Qui-Gon. both men standing silently and only cheering when the contestant they where routing for managed to surpass the other players. Shmi was silent in general as she watched, that didn’t shock you considering how Anakin said she never really was a fan of the races to begin with.

from what you remembered Anakin also said that both Qui-Gon and Shmi disproved of him participating in the races so you could only imagine what their reactions would be like when he’d leave to go join in the third round.

you flinch back slightly as everyone’s voices raise, the first round coming to an end and the first winner of the day emerging. it was nice to see both kingdoms getting along so well for this but boy did you not take into account just how loud the whole event was going to be.

your ears would be ringing for the rest of the night that’s for sure. shockingly Anakin seemed to have noticed, you truly thought his attention was solely on the race but he always seemed to find a way to surprise you. pulling you to stand in front of him and gently cupping your ears to block out the noise of the crowd as the next round was being set up. it was still loud but definitely more manageable than before, everything muffled just enough for the ringing to stop. it truly was the little things that had you falling helplessly in love with him.

the next round began just the same, another gun shot to the air and off all the players were. the difference this time was Anakin didn’t cheer, looking up to see his face he was definitely watching it. a big smile still plastered on, occasionally puffing his cheeks out when he wanted to cheer. he was holding back for you.

Ahsoka’s cheers still went on, now cheering for both herself and her brother since they were routing for the same player.

you lean back into Anakin, resting your back against his chest and he moves forward slightly. resting his chin on the top of your head, his hands still pressing firm but gentle on your ears.

there it was again, the feeling of eyes on you. you didn’t bother to check this time, already knowing who it most likely belonged too. at this point the only thing you wanted to know was why.

to say that Anakin’s family was shocked when he left the stands, walking down to go join the third round would be untrue. if anything you were more shocked by their lack of reaction, you didn’t show it though.

he hadn’t told them you knew that for sure, he’d said it himself he wanted it to be a secret. but you suppose they were probably used to this from him.

the crowd was probably the loudest they’d been all day when Anakin joined the lineup on his horse. the previous winner from the second round wasn’t competing this time, probably having seen Anakin’s name on the list and decided to take the win he had not wanting the possibility of losing to the king.

you wanted to cover your own ears to block from the noise as Anakin had been doing before but decided you’d much rather cheer for him and clap. it would only be for a small amount of time after all, Anakin had done a test run of the course when first trying to find where the race would take place.

he’d taken three minutes to complete it and that was without R2, you had a feeling he’d run through this one much faster with his favorite horse.

the cheers were so loud as the gun went off, to your surprise the entire crowd was pretty much rooting for everyone but Anakin. it was all good fun you could tell, still you couldn’t help but laugh.

you, Ahsoka and Obi-Wan being the only people to cheer for him. his mom and dad watching quietly, though to be fair it was already clear who was going to win. Anakin was significantly ahead of the other contestants, his brows were furrowed in focus. occasionally glancing behind to check if anyone was catching up. there was one person who’d somehow managed to get close but just as quickly he managed to go even faster, R2 getting a second wind as he galloped along.

Just like that he’d won. a bright smile on his face as he held up both arms in a cheer of his own as everyone else cheered, screamed actually.

you were elated. this was definitely the most fun you had in a while, you almost wished it could go on longer or happen more often. of course once a year was still better than nothing. the day wasn’t over yet though.

you now had a ball to get changed for.

Part 17

Tag List: @luvvfromme @gatekeepingirlboss @bimbo-baggins86 @iluvanakinskywalker @bby-imasociopath @curlycarley @burnthecheshirewitch @misscaller06 @sweetcheesecakesblog

alright and that’s three 🤭🤭 next chapter is going to be the ball 😋 it’s going to be out soon but not as fast as the previous three chapters where posted- but don’t worry cuz i promise it will be out today lol💃 anyway hope you all enjoy the cute moments happening between reader and Ani🥰 love you all 💋💋

[lady-phasma]

Hey! could i get prompts 77“I need you. I need you both, right now.” and 95“Quiet, baby, the others will hear.” with Daemon x fem!reader x Aemond (Maybe they're in a secret relationship, but does it work? It's up to you ) please? (feel free to ignore it if you're not comfortable)

Need

Daemon x fem!reader x Aemond

18+ NSFW for real 2.7 k words

This scenario is so far outside my skill set and definitely helped stretch my imagination. It also got really smutty, really quickly. When I read the request I immediately thought about how Daemon and Aemond would interact soooo I probably did NOT take it in the direction you wanted anon! These two just run amok in my head. I can't even pretend to control them.

Smut prompts 77 “I need you. I need you both, right now.” and 95 “Quiet, baby, the others will hear.” (changed “the others” to “someone”)

Might need to be a warning: anal sex and spit as lube.

Daemon walked into the room, looking you up and down where you sat on the bed. He had told you and Aemond where to meet him in Flea Bottom and you weren’t sure if you would actually show up. Aemond stood by the fire, hands behind his back, eye following his uncle intently. He had let you decide if you wanted to entertain Daemon this evening. 

Aemond had watched you both that evening as Daemon asked you to dance with him. His face had been relaxed but he never took his eye off you. As you moved through the steps your eyes would meet every time you turned in his direction. There was something thrilling about having both men watching you. And you couldn’t deny that Daemon’s rakish grin left your core hot and aching. Daemon didn’t care who saw him watching you as you danced. He only saw you. Before the dance finished he had whispered in your ear that you should see him tonight. You swallowed. Then your wide eyes flew to meet his.

“Bring Aemond if it would please you, put you more at ease.”

Now he flung his hood back, short silver hair catching the firelight. He looked from you to Aemond and dropped his cloak onto a nearby chair. The small apartment was barely furnished, you had wondered where Daemon had done all the things the gossip carried through the court, if they were true. Seeing this room made you believe they were. It was crammed into a building so full of people that you could hear almost everyone through the thin walls and open windows. 

He walked toward his nephew and stood next to him at the fire, one leg kicked out, resting on his heel. His hand was on Dark Sister’s grip. You felt a shiver run up your spine as the two men looked at you. They were both silhouetted by the firelight but you could see Aemond’s face slightly downcast. He was so thoughtful about everything. He didn’t act without considering every outcome. 

Anxiety was not exactly what you felt. If they had asked you it might not have been possible to articulate but exhilarated came to mind. You felt yourself blush when your thoughts began to get ahead of you. Aemond gazed up at you from under his brow. He let his hands fall from behind him as he walked to you. 

“My lady?” he said softly with a lilt at the end, asking so much with those two words. He pushed a lock of hair behind your ear and traced your jaw with his fingertips. He tipped your head up and kissed you. His other hand stroked your neck and shoulder. He pulled back and guided you to stand. Your eyes flicked to Daemon. He hadn’t moved. 

Aemond held you by your upper arms. He kissed your neck, your collarbones, and slid his hands down to yours. You squeezed them both. You exhaled as he kissed the top of your breasts. Your mind raced as Daemon held your gaze but Aemond’s hair slid across your chest. Your lips were parted and you licked them.

“I need you,” Daemon growled. “I need you both, right now.” He unfastened Dark Sister from his waist and propped the sword against the wall as he strode toward you. You watched as his hand slid across Aemond’s shoulder as he walked to stand behind you. Daemon placed his hands on your waist, slid them down to your hips. You moaned and lifted your chest to press into Aemond’s mouth. He let out a small hmmm on your skin. 

Daemon moved one hand slowly up your back, his palm hot even through your dress. Aemond kissed back up your neck. He released your hands to slide one up your neck, into your hair, and pull your mouth to his. You groaned as Daemon’s lips grazed your neck. You felt yourself sway on your feet and grabbed Aemond’s waist. He pulled back still holding your head.

His eye searched yours, asking a silent question. You swallowed and nodded. He kissed you hard, grabbed your waist and pulled you against him. It was overwhelming. His lips pressed yours against your teeth and his tongue licked at yours. Daemon’s mouth left your skin and he began working at the laces of your dress. Your mind flitted from his hands to Aemond’s mouth and then to how hard he was. You moaned into his mouth. You heard Daemon laugh quietly behind you. 

The cool air of the room hit your back as Daemon pressed your dress off your shoulders. Aemond released you enough so there was a bit of space between your bodies. He rubbed his thumb against your cheek. Your fingers tensed on his waist. He took over from his uncle and started to move the front of your dress down, leaving it covering just your nipples. Daemon’s hands had slid inside your dress to your waist and his fingers roved up to graze just under your breasts. You sighed. 

You vaguely felt Aemond’s hand leave your waist. Your eyes were heavy lidded and your breath was slow and deep. Then it caught in your chest. You watched Aemond’s arm raise next to you. You could just see from the corner of your eye that he was reaching behind you. 

Aemond’s hand slid up the back of Daemon’s neck, into his hair, as Daemon leaned forward. You turned slightly and watched as their mouths met. Daemon licked and bit at Aemond’s lower lip. Daemon’s hand cupped one of your breasts and you gasped. He rolled a nipple between his finger and thumb and you leaned back against him. 

You were breathless as they pulled away from each other. Your head was turned just enough that Daemon caught your open mouth with his, kissing you from behind. You arched your back then pressed into him. He was hard against your ass. Aemond reached behind you and pulled Daemon closer to you. One of them began to slide your dress down, off your arms, your hard nipples finally exposed. Aemond took one in his mouth. You ripped your arms out of your sleeves and let the dress fall, hurrying to put your hands in his hair. Daemon’s hand still rolled and played with your other nipple. 

Daemon kissed the back of your neck and between your shoulder blades. You brazenly pressed back into him. He pushed your dress down the final distance and it dropped to the floor. When his hand moved down to your belly, fingertips nearly brushing the hair at the apex of your thighs, you shivered. Aemond felt it and slid his arm around your back, between you and Daemon, and pulled you close to him. Daemon’s hand moved between you, teasing you and pressing the back of his hand against Aemond. You rolled your hips into his hand and Aemond groaned. 

He abruptly drew up to his full height and pulled you away from Daemon. You stepped out of the pile of your dress at your feet. You looked from him to his uncle, head swimming with arousal and lust. Daemon only watched as Aemond guided you to lay down. You lay propped on your elbows with your thighs pressed together. You watched. That’s all you could do. Aemond’s eye didn’t leave yours as he undressed. Daemon had barely moved. He stood with his thumbs hooked in his belt. 

Aemond moved gracefully onto the bed, kissing you gently as he placed his legs between yours. You moaned as the cool air hit the wetness between your legs. As he kissed you, you saw Daemon move from the corner of your eye. He had a hand on the front of his pants, rubbing slowly. That wonderful smirk still painted across his face. You involuntarily rolled your hips against Aemond as you closed your eyes. He exhaled sharply as you slid his dick through your heat. He dropped his mouth to your neck. His silver hair slid over his shoulders and onto your neck and chest. You rocked your hips one more time as you bravely looked up at Daemon. You snaked one hand around Aemond’s shoulders. You laid your arm closest to Daemon out, palm up, inviting him. His eyes took you in from head to toe, lingering where your hips pressed against Aemond. 

He moved slowly, watching you both move on the bed as he undressed. You felt your muscles clenched as the bed dipped from his weight. Aemond lifted his head and pulled his hair to the side behind him. He slipped one leg from between yours and laid on his side next to you. Daemon’s hand slid under your back and you felt it move under Aemond’s hand as Daemon leaned in to kiss you. Your thighs clamped onto Aemond’s leg. As you rolled onto your side and you were pressed between their naked bodies for the first time you were overwhelmed. 

It was a blissful overwhelm. You kept one arm wrapped around Aemond and found you had moved the other to grip Daemon’s ass. Everywhere you felt them touch each other sent a spark through you straight to your clit. One of Daemon’s hands slid down your thigh and onto Aemond’s. You moaned and turned to kiss Aemond. He touched your chin and you opened your eyes. His eye held your gaze as he trailed his hand between you and ran a finger through your wetness, over your clit, then back down to your entrance. You writhed against him. Daemon groaned and grazed his teeth over your shoulder.

You had pushed hard against him. Through your lusty fog you began to understand the chain reaction that would occur any time one of them touched you and you ground your hips into Aemond’s hand. Daemon groaned again and slid his hand under you. He squeezed your breast, so close to painfully. You never broke eye contact with Aemond. With his hand in that close, tight world of hips and thighs he used it to gently guide himself inside you and you instinctively wrapped your leg over his hip to let him in. 

Daemon slid his leg into the space yours had been and the pleasure was more than you thought you could bear. His dick pressed against your ass. There were hands on every part of your body, legs intertwined, lovely smells mingling, and the sounds that came from each of you were a chorus you didn’t know was possible. 

Aemond slid deep into you as you wrapped your leg around his ass. His hand slid across your ribs, down your side, and entwined his fingers with yours on Daemon’s hip. You rolled your hips wanting Aemond even deeper.

“Oh gods Aemond,” you whined and begged their names. “Daemon, I… I…” You didn’t know how to say it. You kissed Aemond with a need you couldn’t have explained. Your tongue ran over and past his lips and he moaned into your mouth as you rocked against him. 

“That’s it. Good girl.” You heard Daemon say behind you. Then there was a sound like spitting. You opened your eyes and looked at Aemond as you softened your kiss. He felt it and looked at you. He moved his hand from yours and stroked your cheek as he continued rocking his hips, fucking you so slowly. He brushed his fingers against your cheek, tucked your hair behind your ear, and lifted his head to look at Daemon. Something you could not see was communicated between them. Aemond’s eye came back to yours as he cupped your cheek in his palm.

“Yes, my love?” he whispered against your lips. You nodded fervently and kissed him. Kissing him soothed your nerves, distracting you from the tiny bit of hesitation you felt. That hesitation melted away as soon as Daemon’s dick pressed against you. He was far more gentle than you expected. Aemond stilled his thrusts and held your face. Daemon’s hand slid to your hip bone, fingers holding you tight. You tried to relax. You pressed your forehead against Aemond’s. 

Daemon hissed air through his teeth. His fingers dug into your hip. You exhaled and he pressed against you. He murmured soothing words to you and eased his grip on you. You felt him kiss the back of your head, your neck, burying his face in your hair. Gradually your muscles relaxed and he slid in but barely at all. Your eyes flew up to Aemond’s, heads still together as you groaned and tried not to roll your hips. He bit his bottom lip as he felt your pleasure ripple around his dick. His thumb stroked your cheek as you panted. 

With something like practiced grace, Daemon worked himself inside you. When he slowly started to move, not thrusting at all, his hand went to Aemond’s side. At first their rhythms didn’t match. But when they did you whined. Your muscles clenched and tightened hard around them both. You turned your head and Daemon understood immediately. His lips found yours and his tongue delved deep into your mouth. Aemond sucked on your exposed neck. You could barely breath as they sped up and you pulled your mouth from Daemon’s. You grabbed Aemond’s shoulder. The sensations were too much. You tried to focus by watching Aemond’s face. He lovingly stroked your side as he pushed into you. Then he raised his head slightly. You felt Daemon move behind you, pressing his chest against your back. 

Daemon cupped his nephew’s face in his hand, thumb caressing his cheek and scar. You watched as he pulled off Aemond’s eyepatch and tossed it on the bed behind him. You moaned as his thumb slid up Aemond’s cheekbone. Your hips moved of their own accord. Aemond’s jaw softened as he leaned forward, pressing into Daemon’s hand. You kissed Aemond’s neck as their lips met above you. Your breasts pressed against Aemond’s chest. You made a deep throaty sound as they both moved inside you.  

You came undone. You cried out a name, maybe both, and clawed at Aemond’s shoulder and back. Daemon moaned and pulled back from their kiss. 

“Quiet, baby, someone will hear,” Aemond said softly into your ear. You bit down on the inside of your cheek. But it was almost impossible to be quiet. You rolled your hips and fucked them both mercilessly as your orgasm took over. You felt Daemon’s breath in your hair. Then, making you quiver between them, you felt Daemon tense and spill into you. You pressed back against him, pushing him deeper. He growled and met your force with his own. 

You slammed your open mouth against Aemond’s chest to stifle your cry as you felt another wave of your orgasm crash over you. As you clenched around him his hips stuttered and he thrust into you deeper than you thought possible. You blindly found the back of his head with your hand and grabbed a fistful of his hair. He came inside you, his lips pressed against your forehead, moaning your name.

You were gasping and shaking as Daemon slowly left you and lay on his back. He gently laid a hand on your hip, letting you know he was still there. Aemond began to disentangle your legs and slowly, so very slowly, pulled out of you. The heat they left behind was exquisite. He gently smoothed his hand over your head and kept doing so as he laid back and pulled you against his chest. You sighed heavily and curled your legs up against him. Daemon’s hand stayed on your hip for a moment longer before he stood up. You were too spent to notice much but you felt Aemond’s head raise then lower back to the pillow. There was rustling of fabric and other sounds of Daemon dressing. Aemond hugged you closer to him as the door opened then latched close. You sighed blissfully, content to be alone with him.

Masterlist

[boundinparchment]

For the fanfiction trope: 77 and 23 with Pantalone and someone of your choice (reader, oc, canon character, whatever) Feeling like a little devil on your shoulder 💙

77. In Vino Veritas  

23. Performer AU

Hosts are part of the entertainment industry and thus performers; Pantalone plies you with champagne to speak truthfully.

—————

At this hour, the club was packed with patrons. The air was buzzing with orders and chatter and an energy that bounced and darted between every table.

You were surprised that you were able to extend your time as much as you had. Usually, there were strict time limitations, especially with the head host and manager who rarely sat at a table himself. Tonight was a remarkable exception that had your mind swimming from both the champagne and the glances of pure envy you felt creeping up your neck.

Attentive, your host filled your glass again, a playful sparkle in his eyes. The accent lights cast his hair into a delicate shade of purple, perfectly offset by eyes of molten mora. Although your mind was hazy, you knew the expression on his face well; he intended to pry you open and cradle your heart, leave you begging for more.

He had done it the first night, although you’d been stone cold sober and too stiff for it to truly work. It had taken you three weeks to return after that initial meeting and ask for him specifically. Your heart’s rhythm never quite recovered from the way he’d tilted his head and smiled, complimented you like no other partner had.

“My dear, why did you ask for me?”

So straightforward. Like an arrow. Or more like a bullet aimed right for your soul.

And yet he said it with the most charming smile, eyes crinkled as he looked at you. You couldn’t recall the last time a lover looked at you with such intrigue, with such fascination, or even the last time anyone even…

You giggled, the room spinning a little as you tried to control your tongue. Everything felt so slow, almost like you were frozen in time, and you took a sip of champagne to give you a final bit of bubbly courage.

“You pay attention,” you said, placing your glass down on the table with a ‘clack’.

Your limbs didn’t want to work anymore but that was okay. You turned your head back to him, the act feeling so much slower than it truly was, sending your line of vision into whiplash for a moment; blinking, everything seemed to settle again and your host remained listening, his eyebrows a little higher now.

“The first night was a fluke-you were filling in for someone else on the list who wasn’t available,” you continued. “But I picked you because of…”

You opened a hand and gestured vaguely to his entire personage before you pointed at his face. Your arm wavered, the alcohol having seeped into every cell in your body.

“Because of the way you listen. No one listens. No one sees me.”

“But I do.”

Your grinned so wide your face felt like it was splitting in two as you poked his chest, right near his tie clip.

“You do, Pantalone. You always do.”

Just a role to play, you reminded yourself. That was his job. To listen, to placate, to entertain and socialize.

Your eyes burned.

“But you deserve someone to listen to you, too. Here you are, entertaining people and hearing about their lives and who they are…but who listens to you?”

He took your hand in his own. They were warm and soft, the hands of a man who cared for himself. His lips against your knuckles were warmer, scalding even, and you felt your body betray you for a second when your heart practically stopped.

“You worry too much, my dear. I have you to listen in return, do I not? Or have I always misread your kindness?”

He pulled the glass away when you reached for it, cutting you off for the evening. For a fraction of a second, you caught a flicker of something else before his smile widened and his charm returned. That familiar twinkle in his eye made your mouth run dry.

“Perhaps next time, we can share a meal together. I know a lovely place nearby that serves some of the best desserts outside of Fontaine.”

[theamityelf]

I know you answered a zombie au ask just yesterday, but, do you have any more drafts of Makoto interacting with his class? Or class 77?

No worries; I love that you guys enjoy this AU, and I enjoy writing it!

...

"...Thirty-six...Thirty-seven...Thirty-eight..."

"Can she tell if you don't do all fifty?" Nagito asked, a curious tilt to his head as he ate a handful of popcorn, watching Makoto brush one of Junko's somehow-intact pigtails.

"Yeah, she can tell." (Makoto interspersed his counting throughout his explanation.) "I always thought she was joking when she said fifty, but one day I tried it, and it actually curbs a lot of her, uh, mischief."

In fact, Junko was genuinely falling asleep, her head dipping to rest against his knee.

Nagito looked fascinated. "You mean, she notices if you skip numbers or-?"

"Yep. If I try to cheat, she acts out again."

"Amazing. That seems to mean she can still count!"

"I guess so."

"Does she still talk?"

"Noises, mostly. Sometimes she says words, but they seem random. When Kyoko says words, they're definitely related to what she means to say. I'm not sure if Junko still understands what she's saying or if she just remembers the sounds of some words." He switched sides. "One...two..."

"She's putting a bone in your sock," Nagito observed.

Junko's eyes were still closed, and her body was still relaxing against Makoto's leg, but her hand had found his ankle and slipped a sparrow's vertebrae as deep into his sock as she could get it. It looked like she did it just absentmindedly.

"Yeah, she does that. It's fine. I'll take it out later. The real problem is when she pretends to choke on a bone so I'll get close enough for her to bite. She's really good at it."

"Hmm." Nagito smiled absently. He set aside his popcorn to help Ibuki un-snag her shirt from one of her piercings, but his mind was still on the previous topic, as evidenced by him shortly inquiring, "Do you like it when they bite you?"

"Like it? What do you mean?"

"Well, at some point, doesn't it start to seem like a sign of affection?"

"Oh, that. I guess in a way, yeah. I mean, they're definitely not doing it because they want to hurt us. It's just part of how they communicate. It's to show us what they're feeling."

"Exactly!"

Makoto wasn't sure what to make of Nagito's big grin, but he did his best. "It's pretty reassuring, how they can still make sure we understand them. It shows that they're still themselves, even though they're different in a lot of ways."

"Still themselves," Nagito echoed wistfully.

"...Forty-eight...Forty-nine...Fifty." Makoto finished at last with the other pigtail and carefully maneuvered Junko to sleep on something other than him. While he was getting her settled, Leon took the hairbrush and started brandishing it at him, but he merely said, "Sorry, but my hands need a rest. We'll do it later, okay?"

Leon tried to forcibly wrap Makoto's hand around the brush, and when Makoto stood his ground about taking a break, Leon huffed and threw it so hard across the room that he cracked the leg of a desk.

"You're just gonna have to go get it," Makoto said wearily.

Leon stalked away to get the brush.

Nagito offered Makoto some of his popcorn. He took a few kernels.

"That's one way he's different," Makoto said. "Leon never wanted anyone to touch his hair before."

"The dye job looks good," Nagito observed. "It was your first time, right?"

"Yeah. They sent me instructions with the dye, though, when I told them how agitated he was about his roots growing in." Makoto smiled at the memory. It had been difficult to dye Leon's hair, but he did feel like it had brought them closer. "My hands were stained for days."

Nagito looked at him a little oddly. Almost...sadly? No, that wasn't quite it.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"Then, what are you thinking about?"

Nagito took some more popcorn, affecting a casual look. "Just that it's ironic, that's all."

"Ironic? That...my hands were stained? Or...?"

"Ah, Teruteru!" Nagito sighed, pulling his bag of popcorn out of the way too late to stop Teruteru from dropping a handful of bloody meat into it. "Well, that's a shame. We had so much left."

Makoto couldn't help thinking that Nagito was usually better at anticipating Teruteru's acts of food vandalism, and that he seemed relieved for the change of subject.

But he guessed it wasn't that big a deal, so he moved on. "Hina and Sakura always love having Nekomaru over. It's nice to see them having fun."

"I've been thinking about that," Nagito said. "What if, every now and then, we took the athletes outside? They really do need more room to run around."

What? Makoto checked to see if he was serious. "Outside? Where the reserve course are?"

"Oh, I'm pretty sure most of them are hunkered down in the reserve course buildings. And if we both do it together, then we can both make sure there aren't any problematic consequences. I think Peko and Sakura will stop the others from going too far."

"Yeah, maybe they would..." Makoto frowned. "But I still don't- Oh, hold that thought; Syo has scissors again." He sprang to his feet. "Byakuya! Help?"

Hina ended up being the one to restrain Syo, who had come perilously close to cutting off Hiyoko's ponytail.

...

(For the record, I assume the colorful hair and eyes are the characters' natural features until given contrary evidence, but Leon does say that his hair is dyed, like, the first time we meet him, so.)

[specialinterestshows]

This post will be updated with every new section of fic that I write in this series. Warnings are at the beginning of each section:

Absolute Smokeshow (Rhea Ripley x lady!reader)

Summary: You meet the famous Rhea Ripley over a joint and she confides in you about her relationship issues. What starts as one night getting baked together turns into a series of stoner adventures as the two of you grow closer.

Part 1: “I Wanna Take You To A Gay Bar”

Part 2: “I Call Shotgun”

Part 3: “When The Bong Breaks”

Part 4: “The Judgement Gay”

Part 5: “Stoner? I Hardly Know ‘er!”

Part 6: “EXpectations”

Part 7: “Getting Two Birds Stoned At Once”

Part 8: “This Is My Bisexuality”

Part 9: “Gone With The Riptide”

Part 10: “Eat, Sleep, Breathe”

Part 11: “Carry On”

Part 12: “Eradic-Ate-Her”

Part 13: “Seeing Green”

Part 14: “Take Charge”

Part 15: “Toy With Me”

Part 16: “You Shouldn’t Have Come”

Part 17: “The Rhea Ripley Effect”

Part 18: “(Smoke) You Out?”

Part 19: “Feeling of (Be)longing”

Part 20: “Get Your Motor Running”

Part 21: “Food For Thought”

Part 22: “Lesson In Restraints”

Part 23: “Give Me The Strap (And Let Me Get Off, Please, Mami?)”

Part 24: “Come (But Don’t Go)”

Part 25: “Smoke And Mirrors”

Part 26: “Kiss The Cook”

Part 27: “Shower Head”

Part 28: “Siren Song (Caught In A Riptide)”

Part 29: “Good Bi (For Now)”

Part 30: “Remote Control”

Part 31: “Meet And Greet”

Part 32: “Backstage Rage”

Part 33: “Riddle Me This”

Part 34: “Worry Less, Liv Mor(gan)”

Part 35: “This Is My Rheality”

Part 36: “Fight Or Flight Club”

Part 37: “Let Me Talk To You? (Yeah!)”

Part 38: “Dynamic Shift”

Part 39: “You, Rhe, And Liv Makes Three”

Part 40: “One-Fo(u)r-Three”

Part 41: “Say It With Your Mouth”

Part 42: “Living The Dream”

Part 43: “R(h)emind Me Who I Belong To”

Part 44: “Definitely A (Fucking) Mark”

Part 45: “Five Is Company”

Part 46: “TJD (Telenovela Judgment Day)”

Part 47: “A Dish Best Served Rolled”

Part 48: “In The Hotbox”

Part 49: “Once You Reach”

Part 50: “The Other Side”

Part 51: “A Prince And His Archer”

Part 52: “Vibe Together”

Part 53: “Shot, Lime, Salt?”

Part 54: “Mari (Wanna?)”

Part 55: “Good Things Come…”

Part 56: “…To Those Who Wait”

Part 57: “Watch Yourself”

Part 58: “Lay Per View”

Part 59: “Pillow-Talk Lullaby”

Part 60: “Working Out Your Kinks”

Part 61: “Sending A Message”

Part 62: “Heart And Sol”

Part 63: “The Best Planned Lays”

Part 64: “Love, Sex, & WWE”

Part 65: “Dear In Headlights”

Part 66: “Lightweight, Heavyweight, Women’s Champion”

Part 67: “Flirty Dom”

Part 68: “Face Promo”

Part 69: “R+D+Me”

Part 70: “Demons In Her Dreams”

Part 71: “News To Me”

Part 72: “Another Bump In The Road”

Part 73: “From One Show To The NXT”

Part 74: “Locker Room Talk”

Part 75: “Fast Feud”

Part 76: “Dom Dom”

Part 77: “Un Poco De Azúcar”

Part 78: “And They Were Roommates”

Part 79: Coming soon!

[missdrummond]

Album 77 initial reaction 2

*spoilers*

First off it looks like the kidos are mad and honestly that feels like a good sign I'm going to like this episode. Serious Jay is one of my favorite types of episode. Also didn't know they had a ship name for them. I guess it makes sense that kids would ship them but like... anyway what does "I thought he really liked her mean?"

Begins the episode:

All right, I'm hyped! Let's go!

Sky? Wait no that's the news kid

The bushes?

No! No! No x14 Jay! Jay No! .... I'm calling it now if it's written by Abigail Geiger this episode is going to be great but if it's not I'm in for pain.

Ok two things

1 if Jay has actually been making her pay for ice cream... no that hasn't happened... that can't have happened. It's a joke... all I'll say is it better be a joke

2 I mean they have been kinda friends. They're at least good acquaintances. Don't get me wrong I completely understand if she want to stop being friends but with some of the previous episodes the did actually have some form of friendship. Not GOOD friends but still.

Poor Zoey

MAYBE IT’S BECAUSE YOU DON’T TREAT HER LIKE A FRIEND

yay good Whit

Buddy no. Also haven't we done part of this episode with Jay before? The listening thing was part of The Friend Formula, right? Although he wasn't the one learning the lesson in that episode...

this is going to be a room of consequence episode isn't it?

Called it

No way! Why is it literally the same as his last adventure, I love it

They're doing it...

16% oof

"But I pretend to because you're Zoey's 2nd best friend" Jay no!

No waaaaay! There actually doing it!

Jay had braces?

there have been a lot of Jay-no-s sprinkled through out this. And a lot of other various excited noises

Isn't that the place some kid died!!!! (A Lesson from Mike)

Your Friends!!!!! Friends "your friends know what's best for you" oof

No! No, Jay, No!

It's me. I'm the audience. Not really, I'm kidding, but...

WHAT ABOUT WHAT I WANT EXACTLY

We're getting close! He can do this, he can learn. I hear the despair of consequences now all we need is growth

"He might be able to tolerate you" Burnnnnn!

He's getting it x2 :0 is he crying?

you can do this AiO. We can stick this landing

I LISTEN first!

this is all great but it feels weird that Mr. Whittaker is technically putting it into her mouth. Feels kinda gross. He really needs to talk to the real Zoe. IT'S NOT A JOKE! 😭 you really need to talk to the real Zoe

OK... I'm not upset it's in the episode as it is an important element, but I'm not sure if she wasn't clear. She might not have been I'll check the episodes but honestly even if she was I'm not sure Jay was ready to listen up until this point. He needed something to put things in perspective.

Noooooo! They didn't... They pulled an Isaac the True Friends?!?!? I take all back this episode is perfect. No! Yes!

The apology!

He's crying, I'm crying, well not crying but definitely screaming. Thank you Abigail! You did it you actually did it!

I mean I guess that verse ties to the lesson but I might have set it up better

YEAH it was written by Abigail Geiger! If she wasn't my favorite writer before this she sure is now! Ack! Oy!

I really hope those kids talk to their parents and their parents are cool because they completely missed the point of the episode poor things.

This episode was amazing! I'm so happy!

[chaotic-mystery]

Room 77 | J.M.

ꨄ Pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

ꨄ Summary: It was a great plan at first to carpool with Joel & have him drive to your dad’s vacation house, until it wasn’t.

ꨄ CW: SMUT ! 18+ MINORS DNI! one bed trope!, age gap (readers like mid 20s Joel’s like early 50s idk) mean Joel at first, sloppy sleepy sex, reader be havin those daydreams about Joel, spitting, choking, unprotected sex, slight fingering, cream pie, cockwarming, dirty talkkk, slight use of the name daddy, pet names.

ꨄ WC: 3K

(No outbreak!au, no Sarah!au )

Read part two here

“Please say something..” you muttered and sniffled softly. Your dads best friend, Joel, sat in utter disbelief and annoyance. “I fuckin’ told you we should’ve taken your damn car, but you don’t listen. Here we are, having to find a cheap motel for the night because my truck can’t handle the rain.” He threw the truck in reverse and backtracked until he found the motel he noticed hours ago when he flew by. The idea of carpooling with him sounded good in theory up until this happened.

“I’m sorry, okay? You don’t have to make me feel bad about it. Can you just calm down, please?” You questioned and looked at him with your beautiful eyes that were just oh so hard to say no to. It took a few seconds of Joel staring at them for him to shrug you off slightly and shake his head.

“Well, better head inside and get some sleep, rain’ll be over soon and we’ll head back out.” Joel muttered and looked your way momentarily before clearing his throat. “Fine. I’ll pay you back when we get to town, promise.” You grabbed your purse off the middle of the seat and opened the door, the rain instantly coating the inside of the door panel. Joel grumbled as he made his way into the rain, covering his head with his coat as best as he could with one hand as he reached his other hand towards you to help walk you to the sidewalk. “I got it, s’fine” you brushed passed his invitation and stood under the awning to shake off as much water as you could from your coat. The wind mixed with the rain sent a shiver down your spine, your hair dripping water across your face. Joel shook off his jacket and ran a hand through his hair and slicked it back. “Jus’ wait here, I’ll get us sorted” he handed over his jacket for you to hold onto so it didn’t drip all over the floor inside as he talked to the lady at the front desk.

You watched from the front window of the shabby building, Joel’s arms at his side going in the air. His head was shaking from side to side and the lady had an apologetic look in her face, you knew something wasn’t going his way. Suddenly Joel was walking to the door and pushing it open to you, sighing loudly. “They’ve only got one room left for tonight.” You looked at him in confusion, “That’s fine? Two beds, it’ll be fine.” He stared at you with a blank look on his face, almost masking the annoyance completely. “One bed.” Joel looked away and rubbed his coarse beard in frustration. Part of him was hoping you’d freak out and barge in there to demand a separate room or one with two beds, but the other part was secretly hoping you wouldn’t. Your eyebrows raised as you stared at the bushes behind Joel, nodding slowly, “Oh…okay. Well um…we can make that work, can’t we?” your eyes met his as you snapped out of it. His face softened as if all of his stress and frustration washed away, seeing how you weren’t angry at him anymore. That was only because the anger was replaced with nervousness. Joel had a way of making you feel nervous with his intimidating yet beautiful face, his demeanor, the way he spoke. You didn’t want him to know though and somehow think you were a prude, so a brave face was the only way out of this. He ran back to the truck to grab his duffle bag and your smaller bag, hoping there were clothes in it and not in the big one in the bed of the truck under the tarp.

Joel started to walk under the awnings looking for room number 77, quickly realizing it’s up the stairs. “God dammit” he muttered as he made his way to the second floor, his knees cracking almost every step he took. He reached his hand out behind him for you to grab so you could cover your head from the rain and let him guide you to your destination. As you glanced down you could feel your heart racing and you reluctantly took his pinky and ring finger in your palm, closing your hand slowly. “I think it’s all the way down towards the end Joel, go left” you pointed out and he turned, leading you under the neon sign poorly hung on the wall. You fixed his jacket to rest on your shoulders, Joel finally getting to your room. He jingled the keys in his hand before unlocking the door and letting you go inside first.

There it was. Your bed in the middle of the room with a small chair in the corner and an old tv on a worn out dresser. This was starting to become real to you, you were sharing a room with your dads best friend for the night. Joel locked the door behind him and shook his head quickly, water flying everywhere. “Hope this one has some fresh clothes for you, bunny.” He handed over your bag and your hand brushed against his, your face feeling hot. “Y-yeah, this one does. Thanks, I would’ve never thought to grab these. I’m gonna go shower and warm up a little.” Joel nodded and tossed his soaking jacket across the back of the small wooden chair by the window. There was a small part of your mind that wondered what he’d look like in the shower, pinning you against the wall with his hand around your throat as he tells you to look at him before he kisses you deeply. He stood in front of the tv and messed around with the remote to turn it on so you didn’t feel like he was listening in on you.

Just as you were going to shut the door, you looked into the mirror and threw the space of the door, you watched Joel peel his shirt off his wet body, tossing it god knows where. His torso glistened in the tv light and he started to unbutton his jeans, still blissfully unaware you were watching. You closed the door as quiet as you could and locked it, immediately getting out of your clothes. If your panties weren’t wet before, they definitely were after watching him strip. A little fantasizing never hurt anybody and he was never going to find out about said fantasies. The warm water beat down over your back and you closed your eyes in relaxation, taking as much as you could get before the shitty water heater quit. God were you nervous to go to sleep, what if your snoring keeps him awake all night? Would he leave you here in the morning because technically this all happened because of you. You insisted Joel drive his truck instead of taking your car because it was bigger. He tried telling you it wasn’t all that reliable but you had already thrown your stuff in the bed of the truck by that point.

Your hand wrapped around the knob to shut the water off after you had enough and you were practically falling asleep standing up. Until now you had completely forgotten the only pajamas you packed were a little too skimpy for this situation, but what other choice did you have? You rummaged through the bag on the counter trying to find the least revealing combo you packed. You could’ve died from embarrassment as you didn’t find one pair of panties in this mess of pajamas. How could you sleep in the same bed with Joel just full commando under your shorts? There was zero chance of him going to get your other bag, so you had to do what you had to do and put your shorts on over your bare ass.

“Thought you were gonna sleep in there” Joel chuckled as you made your way out into the rest of the room. While you were in the bathroom having a wardrobe malfunction, he managed to make a wall of two pillows in the middle of the bed so you could ease your mind. You laughed softly and tried not to stare at his arms that were folded behind his head while he watched whatever he could find on the tv. Joel had no business looking so good just relaxing, how on earth were you going to be able to sleep tonight with him like that? “What’re we watchin?” your voice clearly indicating you were nervous while you climbed into bed, tugging the blanket over your body quickly so he couldn’t see much. His jaw clenched slightly and he looked over at you and made your breath hitch. “I don’t even know, to be honest, sweet pea. I’m tired though, I just didn’t wanna sit in silence while you showered.” and just like that there you were in the pitch black with Joel Miller.

You both shimmied down into bed, your back facing Joel’s pillow wall and his face just on the other side. He was dreaming if he thought you could fall asleep quickly, especially here. The thunder boomed above you and lightning followed behind it, lighting up behind the drawn curtains. Joel must’ve heard your teeth chattering because you suddenly felt a hand cross the pillow wall, his fingers tracing up and down gently to soothe you. “S’okay bunny, nothin’s gonna get ya.” You tried to not focus so much on his kind gesture but damn was he sending your head straight for the gutter. If only his hand would creep around just a little more and grab your boob, just a small squeeze..god.

“Joel, can you play with my hair please? Just five minutes, that’s all and then I swear I’ll go to sleep? It just helps me relax” you questioned and sat up a little to look at him. There wasn’t much he could say to that and he was already half asleep anyway so it didn’t really matter. “Mmmyeah, cmon. Lay down for me” his groggy tone made your excitement rush your shorts and you felt so silly for getting turned on by that. You subconsciously scooted back against the pillows so he didn’t have to reach far when his hand found its way into your damp hair. Finally, you didn't feel so nervous being so close to him. This was innocent, it was just something he was doing to make you feel better to go to sleep. Your eyes closed as he started to scratch along your scalp slowly, melting all the stress away from your body. Joel gave the back of your neck a firm squeeze and you whimpered softly in relief, your eyes flying open in hopes he didn’t hear that.

“Didja like that, hunny?” his thick accent was in full effect the more tired he got and he laughed as he squeezed your neck once more. “Shut up, I just have a lot of stress there, that’s all” you were scrambling for any kind of plausible excuse you could think of. His fingers went from the back of your neck to the crook of your neck and just barely brushed over your soft skin. It felt like he was teasing you almost, like he wanted to hear you whimper again. What a sick freak. Maybe you were even sicker for wanting to do it again for him. Your body was backing up against the pillow wall even more and you could feel Joels legs with yours. His fingers stopped for a few seconds as he was processing what was happening and he started up again, this time slowly making his way to your chest. He rubbed his palm over your heart softly, almost afraid to move down the valley between your breasts.

“You can feel them i-if you want, I don’t mind.” Your voice shook and he cupped your breast, pinching the nipple between his fingers softly and you heard a faint gasp come from behind the pillows. Without a second thought you grabbed both pillows and tossed them to the floor, backing up all the way against Joel. You didn’t care at this point, you needed him and you wanted him to do far more than play with your nipples. “Kiss me, please.” you turned your head to the side and he leaned in slowly to kiss you, his soft lips pressed against yours. In seconds he was growing hungry for more, his hands traveling all over your body and his kisses getting sloppy. The both of you were a little delirious from driving all night but man did it make it feel ten times better. Joels hand almost went under the band of your shorts and he pulled away slightly, “May I?”

A whimper came out of your mouth as an answer and his hand traveled down your shorts and he groaned as he realized you weren’t wearing panties. “Oh baby doll, no panties, huh? Naughty lil thing.” Joel tutted and plunged a finger between your soaking folds. His low groans vibrated on the shell of your ear and sent your head in the clouds, spinning in pleasure. You reached your arm back and placed your hand on his head while he worked his finger delicately over your entrance. He was soon knuckle deep and you moaned out his name.

“Fuck, Joel yes like that, just like that.”

You crashed your lips onto his, your tongue wanting to find his. Joel’s growing boner pressed against your ass as you grinded against him. The mix between him fingering you and pushing his hard cock against you was driving you nuts, you wanted him badly. He shoved down your shorts to your ankles and soon followed his underwear and pajama pants. “Spit in my hand for me, yeah?” He asked and held out his hand in front of you. Your lustful eyes met his and locked in as you spit exactly where he told you. His hand quickly went to his cock as he thrusted into his palm, coating himself with your saliva.

“Fuuuuck I need this pretty wet pussy wrapped around me right now. Hold your leg for me so I can get inside, baby. Stay still.” His muffled words were spoken against your hair as he buried his cock in your dripping hole.

The two of you went silent for a few seconds while you got adjusted, when finally you were able to get a squeak out. “Jesus- fuck, you’re so big inside me I can’t-“ his arm that was under your head wrapped around your neck and pulled you against him, shushing you while he bit your ear subtly. “Mmm you can handle it baby, you got it. Stay with me.” His headlock was firm, he needed you right where you were. Joel gripped your waist with his other hand and began thrusting deep inside you, his soft whimpers turning into throaty groans in no time.

It felt as if he was going to split you open from the inside out, but you didn’t care. You were absolutely fucked out of your right mind, you were his. Joel was so vocal with you it was almost shocking. You never expected him to be so loud and dirty talk to you the way he was but wow did he do it well. You drank in each other's moans as your tongues danced together, his cock thrusting into you so fast he was making your pussy squelch.

Your stomach caved with every deep breath you took, the tip of his cock hitting just the right spot and causing you to forget to breathe. “Yes, right there baby fuck, don’t stop. You feel so good inside me, don’t ever stop.” You were begging at this point, the desperation taking over you. Joel groaned your name louder as his headlock around you got tighter. “You’re such a naughty girl for me sweetheart, begging me not to leave this soaking wet pussy.”

Joel reached around from your waist and circled your clit, moving his middle finger vigorously on the sensitive bud. Your knees began to shake and you knew you wouldn’t last long if he kept that up. “Cum for me baby, coat daddy’s cock with your cum, let me feel it. Let me feel you absolutely shut down on my big cock.” His lips pressed kisses all over your head and ear, sending you over the edge. Eyes screwed shut, you shouted out his name and cuss words following, bucking your hips to ride out your orgasm that was hitting you hard.

That still wasn’t enough for you. One orgasm wasn’t enough. “Joel-fuck..keep fucking me, make me cry from cumming so hard.” He grunted and thrusted into you once more like he never stopped.

“Yeah, I knew you had it in you to go one more. You love the way I make your pussy feel, don’t you, filthy girl.” You nodded and whimpered yes, but he could hardly hear it over the slapping of his skin on yours. Joel’s thrusts were getting sloppy and he began panting. “Gonna let me cum inside you, princess? Fuucck, I don’t have much left in me. Let me fill you up please.” He begged and you clenched around his cock, earning a moan from him.

“Sh-ii-it baby f-fuck I’m c-coming I'm comin-“ he panted as he began shooting his hot load, thrusting every pump of cum further inside you. Joel’s grip around your head loosened as he drained himself, his sweaty chest sticking to your back. Neither one of you moved as you laid there barely covered by the thin sheet now, his cock growing soft in you. As you both tried to catch your breath, somehow even in the dark you managed to look at his eyes. “I don’t think the rain has stopped yet, might need to stay an extra day just to be safe.”