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norrizzandpia · 2 months

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bff reader x lando where they’re at a party maybs in monaco? pool party and stuff and the night gets messy but lando and reader stays out in the pool till late,and he becomes all clingy bc it’s getting cold and he likes reader 🥹 coz i’m a sucker for bff x lando aswell as cute smutty jealous lando,idk if you’ll be able to make something out of this but thank uuuu ☺️ xoxo

I love a good best friends to lovers

His (LN4)

Summary: When a fun pool party turns into a hurtful disaster, the only good thing to come from it is two confessions.

Warnings: wandering hands 😏, y/n’s ex, slightly jealous Lando, PROTECTIVE lando, the use of “whore” (not in an attractive way) language, major fluff at the end like i was blushing at my own writing

Note: I THINK I LOVE THIS ONE GUYS

To be honest, nobody told Y/n that her ex, David, was on the invite list. As she stood next to Max, him a rambling and blushing mess over Pietra - who was laughing with her friends in the cutest bikini across the way, Y/n tried to convince herself that her eyes were lying. There was no way in hell David was walking through the door to the backyard of whosever house Lando had dragged her to. There was no way in hell David was making eye contact with her, a sickening smile on his face as her presence greeted him. There was no way in hell David was walking toward her.

No way in hell.

Except, there was!

David’s hand squeezed the flesh of her arm as he grinned down at her, “Y/n! What’re you doing here?”

She blinked a few times, her fingers slightly denting the plastic of her cup as his sliminess seeped into her skin, “David! Lando brought me here. What about you?”

The problem with David was that he was always intimidated by Lando. Whether that was because Lando had a bigger build and had a few inches on him or because of the fact that Lando was more successful, she never could tell. However, all she knew was that one of the reasons they broke up was because of his continuous insecurity that controlled their fights over Lando. No matter how many times she reassured him or told him Lando was just a friend, David would never relent. In his mind, Lando and her were basically fucking on the side.

His eyes turned a darker shade, “Lando’s here?”

She nodded, “Yes, he got invited and had a plus one.”

David scoffed, “Oh, and you’re the plus one, I suppose.”

“Yes, she is.” Lando’s voice interrupted the conversation. His body stuck to Y/n’s side like glue, his hand around her waist, as he stared the man down. Another problem with their previous relationship - Lando and David hated each other. At first, Lando had kept an open mind to his best friend’s boyfriend, albeit he was a little standoffish, but the moment Y/n started to show up at his door - sobbing - in the middle of the night because of some bullshit David had said during a fight, Lando was immediately turned off.

Lando was always protective over the people he loved, attentive and caring to its fullest potential. But, with Y/n, there had always been an inherent need to be there for her through everything from the moment he met her. The way he was with her stood out among the rest. They could try and explain the deep connection away with certain things they shared in common, they had tried, but everybody knew.

David’s chest puffed up higher, not enough to scare Lando though, “Lando.”

Each syllable drenched in a need to exert dominance, David’s words made the McLaren Driver glance down at the girl tucked under his arm. His eyes, the ones she could always read, asked for her to trust him. She always would. She smiled back at him.

With the reassurance, Lando’s hand came to rest dangerously low on her back, “Is there anything more you need to say to my girlfriend?”

She did trust him, just didn’t expect that to come out of his mouth. Her fingers almost ripped through the cup in her hands as her firm hold continued.

David’s eyes bulged, “Girlfriend?!”

From some place deep within herself, one she had never met before, Y/n nodded feverishly, “Yeah, we got together a few months ago.”

Lando’s body leaned into her and it all began to feel… comfortable. They would never address it, but there was always some sort of unspeakable tension between them that made hangouts and interactions a bit intense and awkward, too much for people who were supposed to be the closest of friends. For once, as their hands were allowed to sit nicely on places they had been too aware of every time they touched each other, that sense of heightened uncertainty was completely gone.

Replaced was warm palms.

A soft smile plastered on Lando’s face was quickly gone the moment David laughed, “Oh, I saw this coming for ages.” His gaze, dangerous and angry, shifted to Y/n and Lando almost moved his entire body in front of her. Honestly, he wished he had as David mumbled in her direction, “Whore.”

Max, sipping on his drink off to the side, choked as he watched Lando’s entire body tense up. His arm, that was once wrapped around his “girlfriend”, very quickly came to clutch the man’s shirt, shoving him harshly.

“What’d you say?!” Lando said, right in his face as Pietra came to pull Y/n away. The two girls held hands tightly as the entire party’s attention was turned toward the spectacle that was Y/n’s ex-boyfriend and her speculated new one.

David’s face went pale, “Nothing.”

Lando pushed him away once more, slapping his chest harshly before pointing a finger in his face, “Say that about her again and I will make your life a living hell, I swear to God.”

David coughed out an apology to which Lando spit on his shoes and said, “Say it to her not me, dick.”

Her eyes caught his as he stuttered it out, pure fear etched into them - something she had never seen before. He was always eager to make her feel scared during an argument. It was weird to see him in the same position he had put her in multiple times before.

When he stumbled away, out the same door he had come from twenty minutes before, Lando stopped being concerned with the cameras around him, waltzing right up to his Y/n and holding her head in his hands. He whispered, “You good?”

She nodded, leaning into his hands as he began to lead her into the house. She knew it was his friend’s house, but she didn’t expect for him to know the complete layout of it when he brought her to the kitchen so effortlessly.

She looked around, “I’m not hungry.”

He nodded, shrugged, “I know, but I thought we could hide out in here while everyone filters out.”

Her head peeked around the corner and, sure enough, the guests who were once lingering around the pool in the back were now scurrying through the door.

Lando chuckled, “Guess David’s a downer.”

—

An hour later, dinner ingested and everybody gone, Y/n found herself back in the backyard. Her body laid against the concrete of the pool as she stared at the place where David had been, calling her names, an hour and a half before. It hurt to think about, wonder if that’s what he had genuinely thought of her throughout their relationship. Nobody knew that it all got to her, the comments under Lando’s posts about her being something entertaining for him and the others on Twitter talking about the same things David had muttered before, but it did. No matter how much she tried to make it seem as though she knew those claims were ridiculous, a part of her did, she had gradually begun to internalize it all, creating a deep sore spot.

Nobody knew.

Well, except for him.

Lando’s footsteps pattered against the cold ground before they begun splashing around as he submerged himself in the water. She turned around to see him, one arm hanging on to the edge of the pool while the other wadded in the water. He smiled at her as he begun swimming toward her, coming to rest skin-to-skin right next to her.

He looked on at the spot she was so infatuated with before whispering, “You know what he said was completely wrong, right?”

All she could do was nod, her voice would not be convincing. She knew that. Lando knew that and that’s why his arm creeped around her torso, holding her close.

His mouth was right next to her ear, “It’s not true, Y/n.”

There was a deep sincerity in his words that hit her heart hard, prompting her fingers to trail up his arm before clutching his shoulder. Her head turned, their faces inches apart, and she smiled, “Thank you.”

His body fell further into the water as he let go of the edge, pulling her flush against him right after. He was gentle in his touches as he guided her legs to wrap around him, continuing to hold her waist as her arms wrapped around his neck. A dark, starry sky above them illuminated the twinkle in Lando’s eye. One Y/n found hard to explain away.

He pushed the wet hair out of her face, “He didn’t know what he had.”

Her fingers traced and memorized the sharpness of his cheekbones, “Are you saying you do?”

Her question, however bold, opened their friendship up. For once, one of them was giving the other the opportunity to confess whatever had manifested throughout the time they’d spent together.

She could see it in his eyes, the hesitation and fear in moving into that space with her. Sure, they had been uncomfortable together before, but this was different. This was an opening for something that could make or break them.

This was life or death to Lando.

Though, by the way she smiled at him, he knew he would be stupid, wrong her like David had, if he continued to sweep it all under the rug, “Yes.”

Her hands stopped moving about his face, instead cradling it, “What does that mean, Lan?”

Her question made his heart stop, the moment it all came down to, “Y/n, I hated seeing you with him. I hated seeing you with all of them. I couldn’t stand to see you hanging onto someone else’s arm. It made my skin crawl. And, today, when I got to be the guy that had you under his arm, especially when I got to look your satanic ex-boyfriend in the eye and tell him you were mine, nothing felt better than that. I’ve always known what I had when it came to you. I just wish you would let me show that.”

Her hands tangled in his hair as he continued to hold her, his feet stabilizing them as he stood in the pool. She exhaled a breath, took a moment to think, before leaning closer, “I never said you couldn’t.”

Even in the cold of the night, his face warmed with a tinge of redness. He squeezed her lightly, allowing a moment of silence to pass as they looked at each other before whispering back, “It’s chilly out here.”

Her giggling warmed his body, “Lan, what does that have to do with any of this?”

His hand moved delicately up her back before resting on the nape of her neck, pulling her lips closer, “I’m thinking a kiss or two might warm us up.”

She smiled again and her thumb rubbed against his jawline, “Oh, I got it. I love that idea.”

Max and Pietra watched from the living room, hearing Lando laugh before the two were kissing in the soft light of the backyard. The couple rejoiced on the couch, jumping and down with no regard for Max and Lando’s friend yelling at them to get down. However, once he looked to see what they were screaming about, he joined them too. It felt like everyone had been waiting for this moment. The moment when Y/n and Lando realized that their friendship was never just that and the love they had for each other was never just love. It was something completely indescribable, but as long as the whispers of love they shared between kisses in that pool continued, that would feel like enough.

It sure as hell was more than enough for the smiling, blushing idiot of a Brit who was kicking himself for not telling his Y/n just how much of his she really had been all along.

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yournowheregirl · 1 year

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Let it be known that Eddie Munson hates big box stores. They represent everything he’s against: a big piece of capitalist bullshit that underpays its workers and pump out unnecessary products like it’s nothing.

And yet, he finds himself in a Target on a random Sunday evening.

He’s not quite sure how he got roped into doing Chrissy’s shopping for her, something about ‘owing her a favor’ and ‘making up for all the times she had take out the garbage when it was his turn to do so’ or whatever that means. But here he is anyway, pushing a bright red shopping cart in search of every item on her list so she can go on her date with that girl from the concert in peace. The things you do for friends.

Eddie finds the first few items quite easily - they’re on sale and easy to spot with the big display in the middle of the aisle - but once he gets to the fourth item on her list: Fresh Cotton scented candle, he starts to panic just a little.

Why are there so many fucking candles?

He rubs a hand over his face in attempt to make himself focus on the rows and rows of glass jars in front of him, taking a deep breath before he starts looking for the Fresh Cotton scented candle Chrissy wants. Only to find out, there aren’t any.

There is Pure Linen and Natural Cotton and even one that’s called Laundry Day - whatever the fuck that’s supposed to smell like - but there is not one candle that says Fresh Cotton.

Okay. Okay. He can do this. He knows Chrissy like the back of his hand, he’s smelled that candle practically every day, he can totally figure out which candle she wants.

Eddie grabs the first candle that’s vaguely named after a fabric and smells it, but that one isn’t the one he’s looking for. He tries another (closer, but not quite the same) and another (doesn’t even smell like cotton in the slightest), until he’s smelled practically every cotton-linen-laundry candle in the store and his nose has become immune to any smell whatsoever.

Christ, he really is a terrible best friend if he can’t even get her shopping list right.

Something red flashes by in the corner of his eye and Eddie immediately perks up and chases after it. He stops himself from screaming in victory when he sees that he was right and that there is in fact a Target employee in a red polo walking in the main aisle.

“Excuse me!” Eddie calls out. “Excuse me! Can you help me?”

The guy in the red polo turns around and whoa- Eddie didn’t know that they were hiring actual models to work at Target. He’s pretty sure he’s never met a big box store employee that looks this good - with floppy golden brown hair and a chest that fills out that red Target polo really nicely.

“Uh yes?”

“Great!” Eddie gestures the Target guy to follow him back to the candle aisle and grabs the two candles that he thinks are the closest to what Chrissy wants. “Which one of these is Fresh Cotton?”

Target guy frowns and takes the candles from Eddie’s hands, his hazel eyes narrowing as he reads the labels. “Neither? This one is Clean Cotton and the other one is Crisp Cotton.”

“Yes, yes, I know. But Target used to sell Fresh Cotton, I think, at least that’s what my friend’s shopping list says.” Eddie rambles. “So I guess my question is which one used to be Fresh Cotton and got renamed or whatever.”

“Huh.” Target guy shrugs and takes the lid off both the candles, carefully sniffing each of them before finally handing Clean Cotton back to Eddie. “This one smells the most cotton-y to me, so I’d go with this one, dude.”

Eddie feels his eyes light up with relief as he clutches the candle to his chest. “Christ, that’s a relief. Thank you...” He trails off, searching Target guy’s polo for a name tag, only to come up empty.

“Steve.”

“Thank you, Steve.” Eddie beams. He puts the candle into his shopping cart and rummages through the pocket of his leather jacket until he finds Chrissy’s shopping list. Scented candle? Check. “Look, I gotta go. I have at least twenty other things on this list and- hey!”

In one quick motion, Steve has grabbed the shopping list from Eddie’s hands, scanning the items on the list and the items in the cart with precision.

“Dude. Your friend asked for shampoo and conditioner. You bought them that two-in-one crap.” Steve scoffs.

“Is that... bad? Seems to me like it gets the job done faster.” Eddie shrugs.

“Is that bad, he asks. If your friend cares just a little bit about their hair, they’d be devastated.” Steve chuckles. “C’mere, I’ll help you.”

Before Eddie can even protest, Steve has taken his shopping cart from under his nose and gestures for Eddie to follow him. Huh, personal shoppers must be a new thing at Target. He just hopes that Steve doesn’t charge him a surprise hundred dollar fee at the end of the shopping trip.

Turns out, a personal shopper like Steve comes in handy for a Target virgin like Eddie. Steve (obviously) knows the store like the back of his hand and seems to know a lot about the products they sell as well - from the difference between normal and purple shampoo for blonde hair to the package of colored notebooks that Chrissy needs for the next semester. His knowledge is impressive and Eddie can’t help but stare and listen to every word that rolls of Target Guy Steve’s tongue.

(And if he lets a flirty remark or two slip just to see a twinkle in Steve’s eyes in between the shop talk, that’s nobody’s business but his own)

He is a bit confused when Steve starts loading things into the cart that aren’t on Chrissy’s lists, though. Things like highlighters and staples and various arts and crafts supplies.

“What are those?” Eddie asks.

“Hmm?” Steve hums, following Eddie’s gaze to where it’s looking at the small pots of paint in his hands “Oh. Those are for me.”

“You can do that?”

“Uh yeah? That’s the point of a store?”

“Right.” Eddie nods. “Yeah, I mean, duh. Just didn’t know you were allowed to shop on company time.”

“Right...” Steve blinks at him in response.

They go through the rest of the list fairly quickly, much to Eddie’s disappointment. When he first set foot inside the store, he wanted to leave as fast as he could, but now that he’s got Steve around, he doesn’t really want this shopping trip to end.

At least not without Steve’s number saved in his phone.

There are only a few people in line at the register when they arrive and Steve immediately starts putting his things on the checkout belt. As he waits, Eddie lets his eyes linger at Steve’s toned back, at the way the red fabric stretches over the muscles there, at the way those jeans look practically painted on.

Yeah, he really has to get that number before he gets out of here.

“You probably get employee discount, right? Must be nice.” Eddie grins as he starts putting his stuff on the checkout belt.

Steve cocks his head to the side. “No?”

Christ, not giving your employees a discount in your own store is a new low, even for a big company like Target. “Oh sorry, man. That sucks.”

“I mean, I have my teacher’s discount.” Steve shrugs.

Hold up. What?

“Your what?”

“My teacher’s discount?” Steve repeats. “I’m an elementary school teacher and I get a small discount on stuff I need for my class? Like these art supplies?”

“You- you don’t work here?” Eddie squeaks, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. Oh God, did he just drag a random stranger through a store and make him listen to all of his stupid problems with Chrissy’s shopping lists? This is embarrassing, even for him. “Fuck, I thought- I mean with the polo and- Christ, I’m so sorry.”

But luckily for Eddie, Steve doesn’t seem mad in the slightest. In fact, he just laughs, all bright and clear. “It’s alright, really.”

“But wait, if you don’t work here, why did you help me?” Eddie asks, ignoring the hopeful feeling that starts to bloom in his stomach.

Steve ducks his head for a second, suppressing a grin, before looking back up at Eddie through his eyelashes and fuck, he has no right to look this hot in a freaking polo shirt.

“Because I thought you were cute.”

A bright Target red blush settles over Eddie’s cheeks and there’s nowhere to hide, not even behind his hair because his dumb self from two hours earlier decided to put it up in a high bun.

“Plus, you looked like you were this close to having a panic attack in the middle of the candle aisle.” Steve shrugs. “I’ve been there, and trust me, it’s not a good look.”

The honesty in his voice makes Eddie cackle so loud that even the cashier turns her head to see what all the commotion is about.

“You’re ridiculous.” Eddie says when his laughter dies down.

“Maybe.” Steve says, his eyes already twinkling with amusement. “But did it work?”

Eddie really can’t say no to that.

(He leaves Target that night with two shopping bags filled with Chrissy’s things and a date with Steve the next weekend.)

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fanfiction #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve harrington x eddie munson #stranger things #i have never set foot inside a target so excuse my europeaness for any mistakes #they're idiot4idiot your honor #alice's writing adventures

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caitlinbueckers · 1 month

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fuck it.

caitlin clark x reader type beat

deadass this is just a mindless blurb but i CANNOT get shy yet cocky caitlin clark meeting a rivaling fan in an elevator outttt of my mind soooo enjoy (thanks @sellawrites for being my beta fr)

SLIGHT NSFW , DIALOGUE HEAVY , BULLSHIT RAMBLINGS

18+ regardless

it would come to you as a surprise. a shock, really.

it would feel almost too crazy to be true.

you don’t think you’re losing your mind or anything, which could be a super viable option if it wasn’t for the fact that you had just left the court, game fresh in mind, still wearing an oversized UCONN t-shirt, typing quickly at your phone to express your distaste with the win that IOWA just pulled over your favorite team.

the elevator doors open and close standardly— you hadn’t realized until you’d booked the hotel just how fucking busy it is, not taking into account that it was one of the nicer hotels in the city, elite only in the sense that it took a lot of fucking flight points to even book here, exclusivity aside.

it doesn’t register to you until you’re finished with an almost exaggeratedly dramatic description of the game to your friend, corner of your lips raising slightly only in jest of your words, that you manage to glance upwards, eyes flickering quickly from the back of the hooded figure, back down to your phone. well, that is, until your eyes flicker upwards again, remaining there with a studying gaze as you try to place just where the fuck you’ve seen that hoodie before, embarrassingly candid in your incessant stare—

until the figure turns, and your suspicion is confirmed, and it kinda fucking feels like karma, or maybe some sick joke from the universe that of course the hooded figure just somehow happens to be the very player that disrespected your team the most— caitlin clark.

you’re sort of gobsmacked, so it’s silent for a beat before caitlin, almost apologetically, rushes to speak.

“sorry, i just— i saw you looking, so—“

“no, no— that’s my bad, like- i just didn’t, um, realize that i like, recognize your hoodie…?” it sounds as painful as it is to say, and somehow caitlin, despite the looks of aggression, fierceness and fervor that she displays on the court, somehow melts into this weird, sort of embarrassed looking smile that makes something foreign tingle within you. it’s endearment, surely, but interest nonetheless.

“no, that’s okay— i wasn’t, like, complaining, or anything.” it’s only then that caitlin’s eyes flicker down to your tee, and suddenly, it feels a little fucking ironic. “did you make it to the game tonight?”

self consciously, your arms cross over your chest, attempting to cover the logo, but you find an awkward, sort of quiet chuckle bubble out of you, “i did,” and, because despite the fact her team sort of fucked over your favorite team, it doesn’t take away the respect you have for her because she is tough, so you even go on to say, “you played really fucking well, by the way.”

then, it’s your turn to be surprised again, because america’s hardest basketball player is fucking blushing in front of you, ducking her head like she isn’t six feet, practically demanding to be seen, and it makes you grin despite it, admiring that even now, in her claim to fame, she’s humble.

“dude, that’s- that means a lot to me, really. it was… super fucking close, but—“ she stops herself, right as the elevator dings for your floor, right as she remembers she’s talking to a person, not a conference room, and clears her throat a little. “it was… hard.” she says, and it feels so achingly honest that it makes you pause for a second, biting the inside of your cheek. “looked hard.” you remark, watching as the smile on her face returns, timid, but there nonetheless.

then, the elevator gives another warning ding, and you feel like a fucking idiot because the doors are open and you won’t just go, and leave it at that. because, when else do people just get chances to meet people like this?

the time on your phone reads 1:24 AM.

not like you had anything else to do, anyway.

“sorry, am i like— in the way…?” caitlin is almost overly apologetic as she stands aside, and you’re quick to shake your head, mostly because yeah, she sort of was in the way, but also, because you didn’t really wanna get off yet.

“no! you’re fine, um, i was just gonna suggest maybe we could, like, i dunno— grab a drink or something, y’know?”

jesus, you felt like an idiot as soon as the words are out, and you wince, eliciting a chuckle from both you and her.

you rush to explain, “sorry, that’s like— super fucking weird, i just like, fly out tomorrow morning so i just— wanted to offer, i guess?”

but for some reason, it’s mingled with the sound of caitlin’s quick reassurance, eyes wide almost as if to make sure she’s being understood, as she says, “no, no— that’s not weird, i don’t… have anything else to do, anyway.”

the answer, though only slightly backhanded, makes your lips twitch into a real smile, and you snort, shrugging a bit. “is it gonna ruin your reputation to drink at a hotel bar?”

she’s ruthless. a fighter. a winner.

she smiles again, and it’s soft, before she shakes her head, “what reputation?”

you both end up too fucking drunk— the bartender only a little starstruck as you both pretend under some unspoken agreement that caitlin’s name was totally debbie and she’d never heard of women’s basketball in her life. it’s stupid, and ridiculous, and somehow you want to think it’s too good to be true that one person can be so insanely talented, and somehow not be a piece of shit— caitlin seems to prove you wrong at every point.

“dude, fuckin’— god, kate’s gonna be pissed.” the words leave caitlin’s lips in a breath of laughter, the elevator shutting behind you as your hand presses to the wall for register, shoulder bumping against her arm due to the height discrepancy that isn’t totally still making something within you stir in awe.

kate martin. you’re aware of her team enough to identify who that must be, and for only half a second do you remember that this isn’t some chick you’d met at a hotel, this was caitlin fucking clark, and it fills you with a sense of astonishment, and then, weirdly, a surge of pride.

not for any posterity reasons, but because this absolute beast was fucking giggling and smiling and feverbright from the alcohol and you’re staring for way longer than you need to because, holy shit, why didn’t you realize how fucking pretty she was earlier?

“fuck it—“ you proclaimed, loopy and still a little too unsteady on your feet as you stumble, before her hand, long and firm, calloused and warm, flies out to grasp your shoulder, “my rooms like, fuckin’ empty, dude,”

she seems surprised, almost as much as you are that you’d even offered. “is that like—? are you like, sure?” and as if to make sure she has your attention, she pulls you to her, and your eyes flutter upwards, lips parted without a sound escaping because she’s looking down at you, her hair falling from its weakly tied ponytail, and she doesn’t realize that she’s holding you tight, but you can’t pull away because you don’t want to.

your response is immediate. “duh.”

she grins. your stomach flips, for the second time that night.

and really, truly, after that it should’ve been a lot more innocent. caitlin stumbles in and collapses on your bed, looking not even the slightest tired, but with a look on her face that makes you snicker out, “what?”

it escapes her in a breath of laughter, eyes lolling from the ceiling to you, standing almost idly beside the bed as your fingers caress the bedsheets, warm only from the presence of her body a few inches away.

“wish i could do this all the time.”

it makes you frown, but your lips are still upturned, giving her a look of amusement. “get drunk?”

her own hands are twiddling with each other, before she reaches up, caresses your arm with the subtlety of an elephant, tracing over the red lines she’d left on your bicep from the elevator. it makes you fucking shiver. “no, like— meet new people and stuff. just, talking to you is like— awesome, y’know…”

you don’t know, because you’re not a college athlete, but you nod anyway, leaning over her only slightly because the last vodka cranberry is settling nicely within you, and caitlin’s starting to grin, eyes hazy and cheeks pink, as you respond, soft and just for her, “consider this a prize then? winners trophy?”

she doesn’t answer, she just laughs and then she kisses you, uncoordinated and sloppy, nothing like how she is on the court, calculated and unwavering. like this, she’s loose, strong, but wobbly as she pulls you down over her, and it’s like a fucking sixth sense that you scramble atop of her, swinging a leg over her hips like you’ve done it a million times.

though, it’s more recognizable that she’s quick, her hands racing up your oversized shirt, thumbs hard as they press against your stomach, your ribcage, the lining of your bra.

she scoffs, soft and husky against your mouth, “take this shit off.” and it’s only then, that you remember cognizantly the UCONN shirt you’re wearing, and for some fucking reason, this sudden show of confidence, the liquor somehow fueling her, makes you blush.

“fuck off— “ you’re panting, but the shirt is tugged over your head regardless, a smirk on your face, “two point wonder.”

caitlin all but fucking growls, but she’s grinning, wolfish and proud, as she thumbs over your nipples, hard and pert through the lace as she presses her hips up against you, “two fuckin’— i’ll show you two fucking points.”

and she does.

maybe her post victory adrenaline had been surging, or maybe it was just all the beers she’d housed, but you’re surprised at her energy— which was stupid considering you were looking at a girl known for her endurance, her unlimited stamina.

but holy hell, she’d just rocked the fieldhouse for all it was worth— seemed like you were next on her agenda.

it’d be hard to recount all the details. you guys were drunk, and she was like a driving, pushing force— hands snuck down the front of your shorts, fingers impossibly dexterous as they curled into you, inducing every embarrassing and pitiful sound to rip from your throat, to breathe it into hers.

you probably wouldn’t remember her voice either, husky and low, gravelly with overuse, as she asks you, “hm? how’d i do tonight? tell me.” and in a sense, it’s fucking filthy. in another, it’s almost sort of sweet. the way she says it in your neck, the way she kisses you when you trip up to say, “good— so fucking good.” because neither of you are really talking about the game, and you both know it.

you pretend like you won’t remember the way she’s gone in the morning before you wake up, nothing but a warm reminder of her body on the haphazardly arranged bed, fixtures of the night surrounding you, like your littered clothes trailing off the bed, or your body under the sheets, like the pillow she’d used as leverage when she pressed open mouth kisses against the inside of your thigh, the way she’d taken you apart with her tongue and that’s all.

you do, however, remember the number she scrawls on a napkin, with an almost laughable signature that looks worlds away from her usual, coveted autograph.

instead of her looping cursive, a simple ‘cait’ sits scratched beside it, like she isn’t the award winning, competitively, aggressively ambitious beast that you used to know her as.

for now, it’s just caitlin.

#caitlin clark #caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark smut #writing asf

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halfway-house-in-hell · 3 months

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angel dust redesign🕷️

(click for better quality)

and since theyre the first sinner ive posted, they get a human design!

rambling under the cut

(if my handwriting in the second image is unreadable you can check the id)

-angel dust was a sinner that died in 1948. they were a member of a large mafia family and led a secret life as a drag queen

-they were born into the family, and were unable to leave bc. you know. life of crime

-much of their family looked down on them and mocked them bc of their feminine mannerisms

-they had a particularly bad relationship with their father, who saw them as a failure of a son

-so they turned to drag and underground queer clubs instead (angel dust was their drag name that they adopted full time after dying, anthony was their "real" name)

-they also turned to cocaine, often stealing from their family's stash

-their death happened because they were lousy hiding the tracks of their theft- the family got a tip off that angel had been stealing and that they were currently in an aforementioned queer club

-mafia family storms the queer club, angel comes out off their head on cocaine, their father finds then and shoots them in the chest before slamming their head against the wall repeatedly, killing them

-their and all of their family's (except their sister) demon forms are spiders, symbolising the web of lies they spun😎 because angel died in drag they also have a much more feminine demon form

-they enjoyed life in hell for a while, but soon enough other members of their family started dying and began looking for them. this caused them to flee to the nearest hiding space they had, a place called Valentino's that promised a safe haven against any threats

-as we know this promise is absolute bullshit

-angel signed the contract that allowed them entry to valentino's. they were panicked and signed it hastily, not looking at the fine print.

-they become trapped at valentino's, forced to be a prostitute

-until valentino himself visits and likes the look of angel, deciding that he wants angel for himself

-he takes on angel as a prostitute/porn star/stripper/whatever valentino wants them to be today, with valentino abusing them behind the scenes

-valentino lovebombs them often, buying them expensive gifts they are required to wear and feeding their drug habit

-despite being famous, most of the money angel makes goes straight into valentinos pocket. this is what leads them to finding charlie's hotel, as they do not have enough money to pay rent and the happy hotel offers free accommodation.

-angel's best friend is cherry bomb, an anarchist who wants nothing more than to free them- but she has no money, no connections and is banned from most places on sight due to her habit of blowing stuff up. when angel dust gets sad and mopey, she gets angry for them

-angel uses they/them, but hell isnt the most progressive place, so few demons use it for them. they dont really care though, they have bigger things to worry about

-they actually physically cannot harm valentino, as part of their contract states that any harm valentino goes through also happens to them

-they like to keep up with the latest trends, and have a decent sinstagram following

-they are hypersexual due to trauma

-i think thats it. if i forgot smth im gonna be so mad

oki thanks for reading :33

#angel dust #angel dust hazbin hotel #halfway house art #hazbin critical #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel redesign #hazbin hotel rewrite #halfway house rewrites #hazbin hotel criticism #angel dust redesign #violence tw

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weirdly-specific-but-ok · 4 months

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pt XVI good omens season 2 (still not traumatic) episode 3 EDINBURGH

HELLO IT'S ME IT'S THE OFFICIAL GOOD OMENS MASCOT WHY DO I STILL KEEP INTRODUCING MYSELF IDK. If you don't know who I am, thank God and Satan for their mercy and flee. Also, the day after I post this, I'll be watching the last three episodes on livestream for the first time so. You know. I'm hyped on the energy of this being my last day not enveloped in tears. Take the summary:

Before the episode starts, someone asks why Crowley said in the last episode that Aziraphale couldn't fall because look at him, all angelic when Crowley looked the same as starmaker. I reply that "Crowley thinks he deserved it, he sees Azi as something beautiful and untouched while he probably sees himself as idk marked in some way so god kicked him down."

I am told that I am learning too fast to weaponise the narrative to induce angst. So then I say oh, I go too fast for you. Tears ensue.

The episode begins! Everyone shrieks about Edinburgh, David Tennant, how it is their favourite episode, and SCOTTISH CROWLEY.

We open with lesbians being gay, and then Muriel enters as Inspector Constable! They are very sweet and very determined to do their job right, and they are adopted by Crowley and Aziraphale just like Jim.

Crowley sits on Aziraphale's chair's arm. The maggots all swoon.

Fine, I also swooned.

Aziraphale gaslight-gatekeep-girlboss-mansplain-manipulate-manwhores his way into getting Crowley to give him the Bentley keys (BOUNDARIES. BOUNDARIES.).

WHAT PLENTY OF USE DO BOTH OF YOU GET OUT OF THE BOOKSHOP?

The really ineffable plan is whatever the fuck was happening in Aziraphale's brain when he somehow went from London to Edinburgh via Loch Ness (check the map) and then proceeded to disguise himself as a detective who pretends to be a journalist.

Crowley slays in sleeve garters and a cardigan keeping house in the bookshop meanwhile, does not sell books, instead cleans with Jimbriel and periodically yeets book stacks into corners when distracted.

Aziraphale reads his old diary entries about Crowley, a (6000+) 13 year old with a crush.

MINISODE MINISODE. They are in Edinburgh during the mid 1800s. Victorian outfits, check. Scottish Crowley, check. Capitalist Karen Aziraphale, che-wait what.

Huh. Well. There's a wee bit of body snatchin' going on, to sell to doctors for medical research because there aren't enough murderers, and to make enough money to survive.

Aziraphale channels his inner capitalist judgemental Karen and ruins that plan, come on Aziraphale you have religious trauma but you're better than this, and long story short, Wee Morag dies after Aziraphale realises his error, her friend Elspeth has to sell her corpse for pennies, and is about to commit suicide with laudanum. Azi, oh god. I'm glad you underwent character development at least.

NOW CROWLEY HERE SLAYS. I KNOW THIS IS AZIRAPHALE'S PERSPECTIVE AND IS BIASED. BUT WITH THIS POV, CROWLEY SLAYS.

He calmly educates Aziraphale about how his whole "the poor have more opportunities and you shouldn't give them money or they'll lose the virtue of poverty" is absolute bullshit, and he does this understanding Aziraphale's situation and not losing his temper.

The framing. The framing of the shot when they see Wee Morag and Elspeth sitting down on a step and explaining their situation. Aziraphale stands above, bustling with righteousness, and judges them. Crowley sits down. He sits down next to them, rather than taking the high ground. He meets them where they are and empathises. It is the fact that he is fallen and damned that makes him behave really divine and sorry I wrote a whole hymn on him have it I'll stop rambling just know I love him.

I think his amusement is a facade so hell won't think he's genuinely being good. I think he's morally grey and incredibly brave and kind.

When Elspeth is bouta kill herself with the laudanum, Crowley grabs it and drinks it himself, and grows tiny and then huge, absolutely high off his head. David Tennant takes the opportunity to travel Scotland from east to west in terms of accent variety.

He gives us the good message of NO DYIN'. NO MORE DYIN'. IT'S NOT ON. And then forces Aziraphale (who doesn't want to ruin her virtuous poverty) to give the girl all the guineas he has in his pocket, and tells her to go off and start a farm or something. BUT NOT JUST PRETENDY GOOD, BE PROPERLY GOOD.

He then gets pulled into hell. To be punished for this. Aziraphale is frightened and heartbroken for him, looking around desperately, and we find out that Crowley didn't meet him for a while after. And later he wanted holy water. To protect himself? He got punished by hell. For how long? The whole month in between the incident and the diary entry? There can't be anyone better at punishment and cruelty than hell.

Sorry I'm just screaming here.

Never mind fuck I started this summary really happy and bouncy and listening to a dance playlist. Dionysus by BTS and Italian pop is still playing and now I'm crying.

Is this the natural progression. Fuck I'm crying. Sorry guys something else happens with Aziraphale politely talking to a phone and Crowley smiling really beautifully while unsuccessfully trying to manipulate two lesbians into a relationship and something about a visit I don't care everyone's being morally dubious as usual and then lovely Scottish music outro I CAN'T FUCKING ELABORATE I'M SITTING HERE CRYING OVER CROWLEY.

right summary done, time to go sob, lmao i thought i wouldn't cry today over good omens HAHAHAHA still not traumatic eh HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

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eddiemunsonspantschain · 10 months

Text

Things Change - E.M

Author's Note: Did I wanna start another Eddie series? Yes. This might be a shorter series tho than the one I'm (trying) to put out. Special thanks to my babes @wroteclassicaly and @corrodedcorpses for reading over my smut for approval lol. And thank you to @boomhauer who helped with some relevent info for later chapters 👀

Warnings: Alcohol, sex, p in v sex, cream pie, oral (f receiving), smutty smut smut smut (minors gtfo), 18+, afab reader

You do not have permission to copy, translate or repost my work onto any other platforms.

You had no idea how you ended up here. Moving to Hawkins hadn’t been your decision, of course. That was made by your parents. It was just lucky for you that you made fast friends with Robin Buckley. Which led you to being friends with Steve Harrington… which led to the entire party. You had been shocked to say the least. You didn’t think you would gain a friend group so quickly. The kids were fun to be around and had insisted on showing you how to play D&D since you were into fantasy. That only led to them trying to introduce you to Eddie Munson. Tried being the operative word. Despite everyone else liking you, it seemed Eddie was the exception. You had no idea what you did to him to warrant this distaste.

It made things worse. Worse only because you found yourself smitten with the Dungeon Master upon meeting him. He had awkwardly waved at you and barely met your eye when you were introduced, but you were entranced. He was pretty. Stupidly so. Not to mention his nerdy side made you smile, especially when you had seen him talking about campaigns with the other youngsters for their Hellfire meetings. Some of his music taste was out there for what you listened to, but there were a couple of bands you both listened to. At first, you assumed Eddie was just not overly friendly. You knew what people at Hawkins High said about him. Robin reassuring you it was all bullshit. That none of it was true at all.

As time went on, you tried to get closer to Eddie. You tried to talk with him, but anytime you got close to talking to him, he would roll his eyes and show his impatience before finding an excuse to leave. When it came to group conversations, he always made comments about what you had to say. He teased you at times, made you feel stupid for things sometimes when you fumbled something or said something incorrectly. The last straw for you had been when the kids tried to get you to play D&D with Hellfire and Eddie shot it down. The kids had been teaching you how to play for weeks and you enjoyed learning the game. When you showed up at Hellfire though Eddie denied you membership and told you to leave. With tears in your eyes, you stomped out of the drama room and out to your car.

You hated Eddie Munson.

Any affection you had for him had disappeared. Instead, you couldn’t stand when he would talk because it was usually to make fun of you. You didn’t find his rambles endearing anymore. Any attraction you felt, you buried away so no one would know. Eventually, it became clear the lines were drawn. The others knew Eddie didn’t like you. That the two of you couldn’t get along for more than five minutes if you were left alone.

“It’ll be fun! C’mon.” Nancy spoke as she pushed aside hanger after hanger in your closet, assessing your clothes.

“You know I hate parties.” You told her, watching her rifle through everything. It wasn’t that you hated parties, it was that you hated crowds. Plus, you knew Eddie was going. The last time you went to a party with Eddie, he had made fun of your outfit and teased you about being desperate to get a guy’s attention all for simply wearing a tank top that showed off a little more cleavage than your other ones.

“You hate crowds. C’mon. It’ll be fun and the school year is getting closer to being done. We’ll be graduates! We deserve to go out!” Nancy argued as she pulled out a short sleeve top with a v-neck. “This is cute! Why not this and some jeans? Maybe a skirt?”

“No skirt.” You vetoed, knowing the comment you’d get for it.

“Ignore him.” Nancy rolled her eyes before moving to your dresser for a pair of jeans and laying them on the bed with the top. “There. Add some boots and you’re ready! C’mon. You can hang out with Robin and I. Not even have to see Eddie.”

“Being with Robin means being with Steve, and being with Steve means being with Eddie.” You clarified with a small smile. “I’ll go, Nanc. You’re right about it being our last party before graduation.” You answered and slid off of your bed to go and change into the clothes she set out.

“Then you can hang out with Jonathan and I!” Nancy reasoned.

—---------------------

Except that didn’t happen. You should have known that the couple would be off with one another not long after entering the party. You all shared a couple drinks but Nancy had dragged Jonathan onto the dance floor, leaving you in the corner by yourself. Steve had found a girl to dance with. Robin was drinking with Vickie who had made a surprise appearance. So you found yourself leaning on a wall nursing another drink. You had a good buzz going. You were unsure what was in the punch besides copious amounts of alcohol, and you were feeling it. You hummed as you sipped at your almost empty cup.

That was when you spotted him. It hadn’t occurred to you that Eddie would be left alone too when you saw Steve and Robin were occupied. You had no idea where Argyle was though you could take a pretty good guess. Eddie himself was situated across the way from you. You watched his long fingers pinch the cigarette between his lips, pulling it away as a plume of smoke followed. He was staring at you, though you couldn’t imagine why. You looked away realizing you were staring back at him. You didn’t want him to get the wrong idea after all, right?

You drained the last of the dark red liquid in your cup and made your way back to the kitchen. You moved to the punch bowl, filling up your cup half way once more. Someone slid up beside you and you knew exactly who it was based on the smell of tobacco and Old Spice invading your nose. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes as you took a sip from your cup. Long, ringed fingers wrapped around your cup and your hand as you pulled the cup away from your mouth, leading it now to his. You turned your head, watching Eddie as he took a long sip from your cup. You were about to comment that it was your cup and to get his own when he moved the cup away from his mouth. His pink tongue poked out, licking up the ruby liquid on his lips with his eyes never straying from your face.

“Munson.” You murmured, bringing your cup back to your mouth and finishing what was left inside.

“Y/L/N.” Eddie murmured back, hand falling away from the cup and moving to your hip instead.

You stared at Eddie. Unsure of what he was planning to do. His other hand moved to your free hip, and he pulled you from the punch bowl. He turned you both, pressing you against the fridge, making the magnets fall off. Before you could register what was happening, his lips found yours. He tasted like the punch you both drank and your cherry lip gloss that had transferred from the cup to his lips. You melted into his kiss as you kissed him back, hands moving up to cup his cheeks as he pressed closer to you. The kiss was slow at first, but soon grew hungry. His tongue teased against your lips and you parted them, moaning as his tongue touched yours.

Eddie’s hands squeezed your hips and a small whine left your lips as he pulled away from you. His large hand grasped yours, tugging you towards the exit for the kitchen. You followed, letting Eddie pull you towards the stairs. You both ascended the stairs and after the third door you checked, you found an empty room. You both shuffled inside, shutting the door loudly behind you. Not that it mattered, considering the volume of the party happening downstairs. As soon as the party was shut out, your lips were back on Eddie’s.

There was a dull thud of his leather jacket hitting the ground before his hands were on you. He pushed your top up to your bust, brushing his fingers over your skin and groaning against your lips. He broke away to tug your top over your head, mouth descending on the swell of your tits. He kissed your warm flesh, dipping his tongue between your breasts as his hands tugged your bra straps down. You reached behind yourself, unclasping your bra and pulling it off of your arms. As soon as they were free, his mouth found your nipple, sucking harshly on it and pulling a loud moan from you. A growl left his chest as he moved to mark the side of your breast. You tugged at the back of Eddie’s shirt with a soft whimper. With a soft pop Eddie let go of your boob to pull his shirt over his head.

“Eager, sweetheart?” He breathed with a dopey grin like he wasn’t the one who cornered you in the kitchen and dragged you up there.

“Shut up and take off your clothes.” You answered, popping the button on your jeans and pulling them down your legs.

“Don’t gotta tell me twice.” He murmured as he worked his own jeans off. He eyed your legs as you kicked aside your jeans, now going for your panties. He reached out to grab your wrists. “No. That’s for me.” He growled quietly before lifting you. A squeak left your lips as he did so, not expecting him to lift you up like that. You instinctually wrapped your legs around him as he carried you, distracting yourself by tangling your hands in his hair and dragging his lips back to yours. You felt Eddie dipping you down and the softness of a mattress meeting your back. His lips left yours, returning to nuzzle your breasts before moving down your belly. He pressed kisses against your abdomen, working his way down to your hips. You whined, lifting your lips to get more contact from him. Eddie snaked one hand up to grip your waist as he teased his tongue along the waistband of your panties. Chocolate orbs rolled up to watch you as his tongue dipped under the soft cotton.

“Eddie, don’t tease me.” You whimpered, feeling your cheeks flush at the low chuckle he let out.

“You tease me all the time, sweet thing.” He murmured, snapping the waistband of your panties with his teeth.

“Look who’s talking.” You huff as you reach down to gently tug on his curls. It didn’t even occur to you what he meant. You had simply answered as you did considering he teased you all the time, just not like this.

Eddie groaned at the tugging and nipped at your hip. Finally, he took your panties between his teeth and tugged them down. He kept using his teeth, letting his hand help the other side until he completely removed your panties. He sat up with the cotton between his teeth with a large grin. He dropped the pair into his hands and hummed, pressing his nose to them before setting them aside. “Why smell those when I have the real thing in front of me?” He mused, hooking his hands under your knees as he moved to lie on his belly. His hot breath fanned over your core as he spread your legs. “Nice and wide for me, princess.” He cooed, nudging his nose against your inner thigh. He made sure to take time to mark those too until he had you squirming and your slick running between your cheeks, no doubt wetting the sheets under you. It wasn’t until you begged did he finally flatten his tongue against you, licking a broad stripe from your leaking entrance to the bundle of sensitive nerves above.

A whine left your lips as you arched your hips, wanting his attention on that bundle of nerves again. Eddie ignored you and dipped his tongue into your aching hole. His hands kept a firm grip on your thighs as he fucked you with his tongue, making you writhe under him. He pressed his face against you, nose bumping your neglected clit as he moved his head from side to side. He groaned against you, soon taking his tongue out of you to lick and suck on your folds, letting his tongue flick against your clit with every pass. A sigh of relief left you when he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked just as he pushed a finger into you. You whined his name, rocking your hips as he pumped his finger slowly into you.

“Eddie, please.” You breathed, tugging on his head as you moaned and bit down on your lip.

“Please, what?” Eddie asked against you, flicking the tip of his tongue against your clit and making you yelp at the contact.

“I need you.” You whined, tugging on his hair again.

“Need me how, princess?” He chuckled and you swore even though you weren’t looking at him, you could hear his stupid smile.

“You know how!” You huffed at him.

“Say it.” Hell no. You tugged on his hair again. Eddie’s response was a swift smack to your thigh, and you gasped at the sting on your skin. You looked down at Eddie, who had his glistening chin resting on your pubic bone. He looked up at you, chocolate orbs now swimming in black. He licked his lips and raised a brow at you expectantly. You frowned at him. Eddie shrugged and once again smacked your thigh. A whimper left your lips.

“Say. It.” Eddie growled at you, turning his head to nip and suck at your hip.

You groaned, huffing in defeat as you laid your head back against the pillows. “I need you to fuck me.” You mumbled.

“What was that? I can’t hear you.” Eddie hummed, fingers tapping against your thigh impatiently.

“I need you to fuck me.” You repeated a little louder.

Eddie smirked, running his tongue over the mark he left on your hip now. “Ask me nicer.”

“Eddie, I swear to God-”

“God isn’t here now, sweetheart. Just me. Ask nicely and I’ll fuck you.”

You huffed, feeling the annoyance creeping up on you that the arousal had quelled for the time being. You knew if you didn’t comply, he would most likely leave you there aching and needy. So you smoothed your fingers in his hair. You gently started to massage at the roots where you had tugged and you felt Eddie turn into a puddle between your thighs. Where his form had been sturdy and rigid before, he now relaxed between your thighs as your ministrations. “Eddie,” You spoke sweetly. There was silence. “Eddie?” You tried again, looking down to see his pretty eyes had fluttered closed. You smirked to yourself as you realized you had found a weakness, apparently. His eyes opened when your fingers stopped.

“Hm?” A blush settled on his cheeks.

“Eddie,” You cooed, starting to massage again.

“Yes, princess?” Eddie breathed against your skin as he pressed a kiss to it.

“I need you to fuck me, please?” You pouted at him. “I need you to make me cum on your cock.”

“Holy fucking hell,” Eddie groaned, pressing his face against your belly.

You giggled as you slowed your massaging of his scalp, instead tugging once again. This spurred Eddie back into action. He moved up your body, pressing his lips to yours. You groaned as you tasted yourself on his lips. His hands moved down to push his boxers off, managing to wiggle them off of his body and toss them aside somewhere in the room. A shiver ran through you as you felt his length touch you. You nibbled his lower lip as you snaked a hand down, gasping as you wrapped your hand around him and felt just how thick he was. You gave him a few tugs, whining softly and wondering how the hell he was going to fit inside you. Your past partners had been nothing to brag about in terms of size. Some average, some… less than. But Eddie was bigger than you’d taken before. A small hiss left his lips, and he grabbed at your wrist.

“If you keep jerking me, sweetheart, I’m gonna cum all over your thighs.” He murmured against your lips, biting down harshly on your plump lower lip.

You whimpered at the sting of pain, rubbing your thumb over Eddie’s shaft since he was holding your wrist. “Want it for me.” You mumbled back.

Eddie breathed a chuckle and let go of your wrist. “Want it for you?” He hummed, amused as you nodded back. “What do you mean, baby? Tell me.”

You pecked his lips, now moving your freed hand up to tease your thumb around his tip and smearing his precum around. Eddie let out a shaky breath. “Want your cum inside me, Munson.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie moaned, “Take it, sweetheart. It’s yours.” You grinned at his words, feeling him shift closer to you. His hand soon joined yours, guiding his cock to your aching hole. You bit your lip and let out a soft whimper as he teased his tip against you. “Such a sweet thing. Letting me fuck you raw.” He cooed as he pushed his dick into you.

You moaned, biting on your lower lip as he split you open. You wiggled your hips, arms wrapping back around his neck and settling a hand in his curls as he sunk inch by inch into you. Your walls fluttered around his length, begging for more. When his hips met yours, you let out a shaky breath. “Oh, my god.” You breathed, feeling a pleasant sting as he stretched you for him. Eddie pulled back before snapping his hips into yours again. A deep groan left his lips as he started a rough pace. Your mouth fell open in a pretty ‘O’ shape, moans and Eddie’s name falling from your lips easily.

“Taking me so good, pretty girl,” Eddie moaned as he drove himself into you. “Look so perfect under me while I fill you with my cock.” You almost wanted to die at how he spoke to you. His dirty talk was too good and something you hadn’t expected to like so much. With previous partners it had made you cringe hearing them attempt to talk dirty to you. But Eddie? His words were dirty and felt like sin, making a warmth pool low in your belly. You had no idea it would be like this. Hell, you hadn’t thought you’d be in this state with him. However, now that he was drilling his thick length into you, you didn’t want him to stop. Already addicted from the first taste. Eddie’s hard thrusts slowed and you let out a high-pitched whine. You were starting to feel the coil tighten low in your belly, but him slowing pulled it away from you.

“Eddie,” You whined with a pout.

Eddie chuckled and kissed your pouting lip. He took one of your hands from around him. “Do as I say.” He instructed, still driving his cock into you slowly. He moved your hand between you both, spreading your four fingers apart. He guided your hand to your pussy, two of your fingers on either side of his cock as he pushed into you with your palm digging into your clit. “Look at that.” He groaned, watching his dick disappear into you framed by your fingers. “Such a pretty sight.” He sighed, pressing on your palm to grind it against the bundle of nerves. Your walls clenched around him and he let out a near pornagraphic moan. So you clenched around him again. “Brat,” Eddie breathed shakily, grinning down at you as he started up his rough pace again. “Keep your hand there. Open your mouth.” He growled.

You moaned his name, moaning again when he moved his free hand to grab your cheeks. His thumb and pointer finger pressed in an attempt to open your mouth. You obliged, opening your mouth up for him. Eddie leaned over you and spat into your mouth. “Swallow.” He instructed and you closed your mouth, swallowing down his spit. “Good girl.” You whimpered at his praise.

Curses left your lips as you felt that pleasure mounting again. His thrusts grew sloppier as he got closer to filling you, full balls smacking against your skin. You pulled him down for a kiss, wrapping your legs tightly around him as he grinded his length into you. “Please, I’m so close!” You whined against his lips, grinding your palm against your clit.

Eddie cursed, picking up his thrusts. “C’mon, cum for me.” He grunted, moving his mouth to mark the junction between your neck and shoulder. You rocked your hips up, feeling the familiar feeling of your orgasm creeping up on you. Eddie’s name fell from your lips like a chant as you got closer, legs tightening around him and his name leaving your mouth in a long moan as your came around his length. “Fuck!” Eddie moaned, “Cumming around my cock, princess. Look who did this to you,” He babbled, enjoying the fucked out look on your face as he thrusted roughly into you.

You massaged your fingers against his scalp once the stars left your vision. “You did, Eddie. Cum for me now too, pretty boy.” You cooed, tugging on his curls. Eddie’s forehead dropped own onto your shoulder and you tugged hard, picking his head back up so you could see him as he came. His mouth fell open in a low moan as he painted your walls white, a whimper leaving you at the warmth of his seed inside of you and the look on his face as he finished. He stilled on top of you and you resumed your massaging. His body weight fell onto you fully, giving in to the exhaustion for a moment. You didn’t mind, keeping your legs around him as you massaged his scalp.

“Pretty boy, huh?” Eddie finally murmured after a few minutes.

“Shut it.” You answered, fingers now massaging the back of his neck.

Eddie hummed, licking over the reddening spot on your shoulder. “Are you, uh, on the pill?” He asked, realizing what had just occurred.

“I am, yeah.” You reassured him.

“Good,” He cleared his throat and lifted himself to look down at you. You stared back at him as it sunk in. You slept with Eddie Munson. The guy who hated you. Maybe that was the last little bit to get him out of your system for good. To get rid of any last bit of attraction to him. Eddie bit his lip as he pulled himself out of you, admiring the way his cum leaked between your fingers. He climbed off of you and an immediate sadness settled in your chest. You hadn’t expected him to cuddle you per say, but you hadn’t expected him to just up and leave so soon. You pulled the covers over your body as you sat up. Eddie had disappeared into the en suite bathroom and you could hear the water running. You winced feeling his mess leaking out of you, your fingers now covered in a mix of the both of you. Eddie appeared again, a washcloth in hand, and offered it to you. A blush settled over your cheeks.

“Thanks,” You murmured and started cleaning yourself up. Eddie pulled on his boxers, finding his jeans quickly and pulling them on. He gathered your clothes too, setting them on the bed as he sourced out his clothes too. You finished cleaning up, disappearing into the bathroom to pee and clean up a bit more before leaving the bathroom. You grabbed your bra, pulling it on before tugging your shirt on. You looked around for your panties. You huffed. “Eddie.”

“Hm?”

You held out your hand and wiggled your fingers. “Panties.”

“I don’t have em.” Eddie answered.

You gave him a ‘seriously?’ look and wiggled your fingers again. Eddie sighed dramatically, pulling your cotton panties out of his pocket and placing them in your hand. “Thank you,” You sang, pulling them on before tugging on your jeans. You sat on the bed as you pulled your boots on, mildly wondering why Eddie was still there. You were happy he hadn’t run out immediately, but he was lingering longer than you had expected him to. He produced his Camels from his pocket, placing a cigarette between his lips before pulling out a blue plastic Bic lighter. He flicked at the sparker, lighting the end of his cigarette and taking a long drag. He pulled it from his lips and offered the stick to you. You waved him off. “No thanks.” You murmured and stood from the bed.

Eddie shrugged. “Suit yourself. Let’s go.” He moved towards the door, snatching up his leather jacket from the floor. You raised a brow and followed Eddie out the door. The two of you went back downstairs, the party still ongoing. If Eddie noticed the stares, he didn’t say anything about it as he headed for the front door, still smoking his cigarette. You planned on breaking off from him and did just that, going your separate way from him.

It was only then you realized that your friends were gone. Steve most likely had left with the girl he had been dancing with. Robin and Vickie were nowhere in sight, either. You cursed, heading for the front door. Nancy, Jonathan, and Eddie were outside talking. You tried to quell the heat that rose to your cheeks as Eddie talking with your mutual friends like he hadn’t just fucked you upstairs. You walked over, leaning closer to Nancy.

“Hey! You have fun?” Nancy asked, looping her arm through yours.

“Yeah, tons.” You answered while purposely avoiding looking at Eddie.

“Ready to head home?” Jonathan asked and you nodded your head. “You good to get home, Eddie?” Jonathan asked him.

“I’m fine, man. Get the ladies home safe.” Eddie answers, eyes flicking to you before back to Jonathan. The two shared a manly hug before Eddie nodded his head to Nancy. “Wheeler, Y/L/N.” He flicked his cigarette into the street as he headed for his van.

You could feel Nancy’s eyes boring into your skull as you watched Eddie drive off.

—----------------------------------------------

As soon as you got to your house, Nancy announced she’d be sleeping over, much to Jonathan’s surprise. You knew exactly what she was doing. You played along and the two of you snuck up to your room. The second the door was closed, Nancy rounded on you.

“What happened?”

You groaned, moving to your dresser. “Nothing, Nance. I’m gonna shower, okay?” You quickly grabbed pajamas. “Help yourself to my clothes too.”

“Oh, of course.” Nancy nodded, hands on her hips. “You probably should wash the smell of sex and Eddie off of you.” When you turned to look at her, she had a large grin on her face. She pointed to your neck. You swallowed, peeking at your mirror and realizing your top exposed one of Eddie’s marks. “You smell like him, you know. The second you got close to me I could smell the cigarettes and weed.” She giggled.

“Nancy-”

“I’m not judging! I just… see why you had ‘tons’ of fun.”

You quickly ran into your bathroom and shut the door hard at her giggling.

#eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x afab!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #pregnant!reader

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dewitty1 · 2 years

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Saturday Six (Stuff)

I finally reached my follower milestone this week! I commissioned art! Thank you all! ☆*･゜ﾟ･*\(^O^)/*･゜ﾟ･*☆

It's been so rainy here! I love the cooler Temps, but I'd like to get outside a little bit too.♡(•ི̛ᴗ•̛)ྀ

The whole getting more cats situation from my Bff's mom is still up in the air. Her brother is being a wicked jerk, and now my landlady is kind of being weird about the possibility of four cats here. Ughhhhh.(*｀へ´*)

Gosh danged migraine this weekend. Boo.ヾ(*´ー`)ノ

Finally got my tax return paperwork! So, it's finally been filed by my accountant. Smh. I'm not happy about the communication there.s(・｀ヘ´・;)ゞ

I've got baby squash coming on! And my strawberries are amazing. I love having what little fresh food I can grow myself. (っ˘ڡ˘ς)

#Saturday Six #June 4 2022 #About me #Personal #please do not reblog #Carey rambles about her boring life and rain and her plants that are all growing like crazy #I love my plants! But it's raining so much I can't sit outside with them #Anyway thanks so much for being here and reading my bullshite week after week #I appreciate you all so much #Hugssss from mom or just a friend if that's what you need #Lord jeebus knows that I need lots of hugs lolololol #And now back to your regularly scheduled scrolling!#💜💙 💚 💛 ❤️ 💕 💖

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skyenish · 21 days

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Twst mlp AU | thoughts behind the designs

I made Leona an earth pony with a thicker build. Hes a square with sharp angles! Hes one of the first drawings I made for this ‘series’ so its a bit lackluster, but I wanted him to be nice and hairy. I gave him a more lion-like tail, and some jewelry from his culture. His ears are nicked and he has long, slightly tangled hair. He also has a lot of hair around his neck becuase he’s a lion! I gave him a color scheme vaguely resembling a lion as well. Also nice and hairy legs, i love to draw those on horses. His cutie mark is three claw marks over clouds of dust. There are multiple different meanings to this cutie mark.

Vil covers up his cutie mark for personal reasons, but its a spotlight shining behidn some curtains. I tried to give him a more ‘feminine’ look while also keeping sharper angles. I love his color scheme, and i made him a unicorn because I thought it fit perfectly. I considered making him an earth pony to really show how he works hard for everything and doesn’t take shortcuts, but in the end unicorn won. I might change it later though! I had to give him some elegant white spots too, because aesthetically it just clicked in my head. He has a purple bow and has his unique hair accessory in his bun. I gave him longer eyelashes, and instead of making his hair a blonde-purple gradient I made some locks purple.

Jamil!!! He’s one of my favorite designs. I know the obvious choice seems to make him a unicorn, but HEAR ME OUT ON PEGASUS JAMIL! It adds a lot of symbolism and extra layers I think, it’s very tragic. Plus, he looks pretty with wings. I gave him darker and greyer colors to portray his darker and jaded nature, and it’s a nice contrast to Kalim’s design. I tried to vaguely design him off of Arabian horses but it didn’t come through very well. Did you know that MLP has a race of horses called ‘Saddle Arabians’? I didnt and i think its absolutely hilarious. Jamil is also supposed to have bags attached to the thing around his waist, but I’m too lazy to draw them.. His cutie mark is an eye with the world as its pupil, and a snake curling behind it. I put a lot of thought into his cutie mark and I’m really happy with what I came up with! To me it has 4 different meanings! I kinda want to redraw Jamil because he looks so small compared to the others!

Kalim is a unicorn for even more delicious angst. His whole family is unicorns. He’d much rather be a pegasus, but at least he has the magic carpet! Jamil thinks it’s bullshit that Kalim can use magic AND can fly. I made Kalim’s colors more vibrant and yellow and lively. He wears lots of jewlery, has tattoos and is my favorite design of these four! He also took me the longest. His cutiemark is a sun or a coin with gems on it, and it has wings. This too has multiple meanings. I think in the Scalding Sands culture the snake jewelry was something the sorcerer of the sands, an alicorn, wore around his horn. Maybe the original was a magical artifact? Well, Kalim, and other people from the scalding sands, wear fakes to honor the sorcerer. Anyways, I made Kalim slightly hairier then Jamil to show how he’s softer and wilder.

———

I’d love to do more with this AU, because my mind is already full with so many cool ideas! Thanks for reading my rambles and have a nice day :)

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notroosterbradshaw · 6 months

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slow dancing in a burning room - six

word count: 5.5k

warnings: nsfw 18+, smut, language, angst.

part of: The Boyfriend Experience universe

a/n: well, they're broken. it's unceremonious and it's real and they're hurting so deeply, coping in ways only they know... the wrong way. You're here to meet Bad Choice Bradley, I presume? I hope you enjoy it. thanks to those who read, reblogged and commented on previous chapters. you’re doing god’s work. I truly appreciate all the effort you make to show your support and if you like it… please comment and reblog it! x

five.two

“Rooster,” Annie smiled before him, Ava strapped to her chest in her baby carrier sleeping peacefully.

Bradley felt his poor, old heart sink because he’d done so well to now avoiding you and your family since everything blew the fuck up in your relationship. It was a small town and the more you tried to avoid someone, the more likely they were to cross your path. “Ann,” he gave a slight smile. “How you doin'?”

“Morning coffee brings me back to life after a rough night,” she reported. “Not on base today? Look at the beard,” you said, fondly as he realised Annie didn't have a clue.

“No,” he bit back the sour taste in his mouth. Obviously you’d not told your family about his pending trial… and in a way, he guessed he was thankful. It probably brought a certain amount of embarrassment to you, if he thought about it truthfully, given Viper and the respect he still commanded at work and from the locals. You didn’t need his bullshit on your shoulders. "Few more weeks to myself. Just finished my run,” he said even though it appeared the most obvious thing in the world. Shorts, runners, Navy tank glued to him, sweating from top to toe from morning humidity.

He just wanted to get his coffee and head home to shower. He should have just forgone the fucking caffeine. He had a perfectly good coffee machine at home for Christ’s sake. He cursed the fact you introduced him to this coffee shop and he knew, eventually he’d see you here, but he’d been so smart. He knew your work schedule and now, he was always the first in line when he knew your first classes for the day were clocking over. He was no dummy - sure, he had his moments when his head was stuck up his ass, but caffeine was his drug of choice and after you’d secretly revealed to him the best in the town and he was addicted. “Lucky. You just missed her…” Annie told him softly, nodding off in the direction towards work... his villa was in the opposite direction and taunting him and his poor choices.

He hummed, unreadable. “Did I?” He was pleased with the relief that washed over him. It was such a non-committal response and he knew he owed Annie so much better. Annie wasn't the cause of his recurring cycle of problems. But shit, he was so good at making his problems... everyone’s.

“Loves her morning coffee,” Annie waved her reusable cup towards him, and gee, it was so awkward. Rooster nodded, pleased that he wasn’t the only uncomfortable one in this conversation. Even Annie, usually outgoing, funny Annie, seemed completely out of character with her current word vomit.

And though he was desperate to, he would not ask after you because he knew there was no way you could feel as awful as he did but he forced it out anyway. “How is she, Annie?” he tried to hide the sadness in his voice, but it was impossible. He was so desperate to catch even the slightest whisper about you - whether it was Annie, Phoenix or any other mutual acquaintances. The radio silence was quietly killing him.

After a beat, Annie replied warily, “A wreck. Not that she’d ever let us know. We’re not seeing hell a lot of her so that kind of speaks for itself, I guess. Or it's exactly what she wants, I don't know," she rambled because Bradley could see Annie didn't know what to do to help you, and that hurt him more. The frustration in the air was paramount. The people you were once closest to now the one furthest at arm's length and he knew that was because of him.

“Right,” he replied, forcing a lack of interest in his voice. He didn’t want to sound emotional that you were upset, but he certainly didn’t want to feel sad for you for the decision that you made. Bradley needed you to know that you were feeling the way you were feeling for what you decided to drag you both through. He wanted to work things out, he didn't want either of you to be hurting like this - “Sorry to hear that.” He shrugged, knowing how cold it sounded and the surprise on Annie's face telling the story. What the fuck else was he supposed to say?

All the texts he'd sent bounced, and he knew you'd blocked him - what was the use of calling? He considered sending flowers, champagne, fucking skywrite if it got your attention, but all his desperate ways for your attention would fall on deaf ears. And as desperate as he was to go to you, knock on your door and hold you until reason came back into that smart brain of yours, he knew for now, you simply needed your time. He just hoped it wasn't forever.

“So... how are you?” Annie asked, welcomingly changing the subject.

He shrugged, sipping his coffee. He didn't feel like admitting he was about to head home, shower and see his JAG. It just didn't feel like it could roll off his tongue properly without the rest of his life crashing around him. He’d been so good to protect his façade and damn, he lied so easily. It was his most hated personality trait and he wished he could stop it, but sometimes it was just easier. “PT,” he lied, but he knew fully well Annie didn’t care for his physical recovery - she had good intentions but he knew she wanted to pry into his convoluted, messed up brain, see if he was as tragically missing her sister, if he was as tormented as you were.

Dissect and get into the deepest, darkest crevices.

But Bradley would never tell. There were enough people trying to get in there as it was. And right now he wasn’t going to give anyone the benefit of that bullshit. That hurt stayed with him, no matter the cost. It motivated him, got him through the day to be better, stronger, harder and he wasn't letting his guard down for anyone, not Annie, not Phoenix, not Mav.

Not you. No one.

“That’s fantastic,” she said as Ava wriggled against her, waking. “I’m glad for you, Rooster,” Annie bobbed to settle the little one, whining and probably ready for her morning feed. "You need your head in the clouds."

If that ever happened again.

“She got big,” Rooster said, keenly changing the subject and turning his attention to Ava. He reached for her her little hand and Ava wrapped her chubby little palm against his pointer. Bradley knew even if kids weren't in his future, the future he had quietly hoped to share with you, this was a cute kid and it only reminded him of you when you were playing World’s Greatest Aunty and putting the idea in his head that maybe… yeah, he could get the family he always wanted with you. It was going to take more to desensitise himself, he realised.

“They do that,” Annie said, with a gentle smile. “Way too quickly. I feel like she's minutes away from rolling, crawling, and then up and walking out to college."

And Rooster laughed, because there was Annie, the Annie he grew up with. They both needed that little break in the terse. "I hope not that fast," he gently pressed a kiss on Ava's knuckles and loosened his finger, free again.

"Well, I’d better get her home for some food and start our day. Good to see you, Rooster,” she gave him a small smile. “If you need anything, call me, okay? Don’t be a stranger.”

Bradley did the cordial thing and nodded. “Will do. See ya around, Annie," he said, not waiting for a dragged out goodbye and heading in the other direction. He had a house to start bringing back to life even if he had fallen apart in every other way.

It had been about month since you and Bradley… yeah. Since then. Things had been fairly busy for you, you’d stayed to yourself, regardless of nagging from your family, some other friends who wanted to claim your time now you were single again and, of course, Natasha. She was shipping out in a few days and wanted to have a drink but the last place you’d be caught dead at was The fucking Hard Deck. Reassuring everyone you were good, or okay, was next to useless. No one believed you anyway.

You'd kept yourself busy. The apartment needed to be unpacked again, with no time like the present, a perfect time to purge and it felt so much better in your small part of the world that you’d rid yourself of those little things you simply didn’t need anymore. Clothes, kitchenwares, changed up the orientation of the bedroom, indulging and confusing yourself with feng shui and vastu shastra on household karma/good vibes among other things.

But you really did feel lighter. You built a cute study nook for your business stuff. You and Bradley had planned to use one of the rooms in the Bradshaw place, giving you more time to work from home, instead of staying later after classes to do your never-ending small business accounting.

But that wasn’t the case now and you had all the time in the world.

“Fuck, Nat. Stop,” you muttered to yourself, scarfing down some leftovers for dinner. It was late and frankly, you had little to no interest in heading out, even if it was to a venue of your choice. You had to give Natasha credit: she was trying so hard to release you from your self-imposed imprisonment. You know what you were up for - 20 questions about how you were coping. You'd be lying to say you weren't worried about his impending trial and were curious to reach out. But it probably would just distract him and he didn’t need that. You were sure it was this week or next.

Maybe you would get Grandpa to contact Bradley?

But as far as you were concerned, Bradley seemed to be doing just fine. Like you’d agreed, you didn’t need each other anyway. Besides, he hadn't contacted you - and you hadn't let him after yep, taking the high road and blocking him. Maybe he needed this more than you did, you tried to reason with yourself. A guy like him didn't deserve to be tied down with someone who had the baggage you did. He deserved better.

You tossed your fork on the plate, suddenly not hungry for the stir fry you were desperate for only minutes earlier although the need to get tiddly didn't sound terrible at all.

Enjoying his quiet drink, Rooster knew his time was running out as Phoenix sidled her way to him, a fair smile on her face. Unreadable, and God, he hated that. “Didn’t know you were coming out tonight,” she commented, as she put two beers on Payback’s tab, placing one before Bradley.

She followed his gaze to the pretty woman across the bar, making pathetic doe eyes and suggestive overtones with her beer bottle and tongue. Natasha would never get used to it. And sadly, Rooster seemed pretty into it, for what she could gather. “Know her?” Phoenix asked as Rooster’s lip quirked and he stumbled to find an undefined answer.

Truth be told, yeah. Rooster did know her. Not super well, but well enough to remember how into him she seemed as she led him back to her place last week, the first person he’d fucked since… and, he supposed, it was fine. It was good, she was eager to please and she had zeroed in on him the minute he walked in last week and again tonight. Rooster didn’t generally put his boots under the same bed twice, but he lately wasn’t feeling particularly fussy. He did ask himself if there was a supposed grieving period for how long he should probably wait before getting into the game again but his brain (and Hangman) told him what he needed to hear.

Fuck her.

“Oh, Rooster, no. You slept with her?” Natasha asked, the disappointment dripped from her voice and Bradley felt about three feet tall.

“Oh, fuck this,” he bemoaned. “She broke up with me, I have to be celibate too?” he asked. It seemed so rehearsed and he didn't lie but he knew the shit he was going to cop for spending time with any woman that wasn’t you.

Natasha sighed. “No, I guess not.”

“Believe it or not, I can fuck who and when I want, Phoenix,” he gruffly reminded her. "You don't get to dictate."

“No, you’re right,” she agreed. Who was she to argue? She was desperate for her friends to get over this little ‘blip’, but seeing you separately and the hurt you’d both caused each other, she began to wonder if this blip as she'd hopefully referred to is as was really the end of what could have been the best thing that happened to both of you.

You were no longer a couple. Rooster had moved into his parents' old place alone and seemed to be enjoying taking to it with a sledgehammer. You were doing your usual MO when things went sour – you didn’t answer calls, and rarely responded to texts before anyway. You were working and looking at growing the business, so it was the best excuse in the books not to come to the bar, a surefire way of making sure she didn’t pump into Bradley.

“I can’t see him, Nat. He was the love of my life. And not being able to touch him, kiss him, laugh with him? It would just kill me,” you had told her sadly, week’s earlier when Natasha came over unannounced and sporting Thai food and rosé.

“What is so fucking funny is that I keep hearing how badly she is doing, yet no one gives a flying fuck that maybe, just maybe, I’m going through it too," Bradley muttered, Natasha surprise crossing her face as he continued, "Nat, we were moving in together. But it’s over now,” he poured what was left of his beer down his throat, knowing that coming out tonight was not his wisest idea. Bad Choice Bradley was bubbling in his bloodstream and frankly, he didn't mind if he escaped. He was so sick of doing everything by the rules, but where had that gotten him? Absolutely no-fucking-where. Jobless and Loveless. “And for the record?” he hissed purposefully to Natasha. “I was in that fuckin’ relationship too. I didn't call time.”

“Okay, okay,” she said softly. “I’m sorry. You’re right. You’re wholeheartedly allowed to feel that way. We just don’t see you… as down about it,” she used her words carefully.

“It was weeks ago,” he sniped.

“It wasn’t that long - ”

“Jesus, Phoenix. She was the fucking love of my life,” he hissed. "I wanted to work this out. She blocked my number, she wants nothing to do with me."

Natasha held her palm towards his chest but didn’t dare touch him, she could feel the heat, the anger reverberating off him. “Okay, I agree. I’m sorry, I know you’re hurting, buddy. And I’ve let you down.”

He frowned and paused. “What are you talking about?”

“This isn’t just the breakup, Rooster,” Natasha said, adjusting her posture to stand with him and continuing before she could let up. “Everything has been a bit of a shitstorm. Your past is always following you around, you were part of a suicide mission that almost got you killed and now you’re waiting for trial and I should have been doing more to make sure you were okay with that."

And for the moment, Bradley was silenced and frown in reply.

"Are you still seeing the shrink?”

He huffed out a breath, replacing his beer eagerly with the one Natasha had slid towards him. He didn’t need this holier-than-thou bullshit where Natasha got to try and save him to be really honest. He just gazed back at her, now unreadable.

“Isn’t it mandatory?” she pressed lightly. “You should really be talking to someone – ”

“I’m still going, I’m hating it. If I don’t get clearance from the shrink, I never get in my jet again regardless of how the trial plays itself out. Satisfied?” he rolled his eyes. “See ya later, Phoenix,” he said, leaving his her side and heading over to his new friend, who greeted him with a tender kiss on the side of his mouth, and while he wasn’t repulsed, you used to do that to him, and he didn’t like it half as much as he used to.

“Didn’t think you were going to come over and say hi, Rooster.”

“I’m here with friends,” he admitted, whom he’s just ditched to come over here and line up an easy lay for the night.

“You wanna dance?”

He nodded, a small grin gracing his features that didn’t quite make it to his eyes. “Yeah, lemme hit the bathroom first really quick, okay?”

“Sure,” she smiled as he grasped her forearm, gave the easy smoulder and disappeared. And she, with the name he couldn’t recall (but really wanted to), devotedly followed moments later. Messy, unplanned bar head wasn’t on his bingo card for the night, but he’d surely take it. He tried to be surprised when she cornered him into the stall and undid the few top buttons on her shirt, her breasts brushing against his chest as she groped his half-hard cock and played with the zip on his jeans before letting her soft, warm palm slide beneath his boxer briefs. His breathing immediately shallow because her hand was better than his hand and she sank to her knees and licked her lips, she didn't give an ounce of hesitation to take him deep.

He guessed he never really had to work hard to get what he wanted.

And he couldn’t hate himself more for it, because he compared everything to you. The way your big, beautiful eyes would peer up at him, begging for reassurance you were pleasing him, giving everything he deserved and more, your delicate strands he’d mess his long fingers into… it wasn’t the same but he came deep in the back of her throat that she swallowed and tidied up devoutly and he kind of wanted to be sick. But as she did that thing with her tongue, he wanted to cum so badly, as she gripped his thighs to keep her balance, he regarded her, knowing this wasn’t a woman he could fall in love with. He would only ever love one woman and right now, she wanted nothing to do with him.

He shook the notion from his head, concentrating on how silky her tongue caressed the head of his cock and remembered this didn’t happen all the time and to enjoy it as he thrust into her face, closing his eyes and imagining you again, getting him over the line as he knotted his fingers in her hair and fucked her face. Seeing you and those pretty sounds you’d make gagging on his cock, deep as you possibly could and what you couldn’t, pumping in your delicate palms.

He grunted as he came in wild spurts down her throat until he was spent and watched as she tidied him up, sweetly placing his softening dick back in his boxers and pulling his jeans back into place, sweetly caressing his throbbing groin.

With a quiet laugh, he helped her to her feet, cupping her chin a little rough. "You didn't need to do that, you know?"

"No," she agreed. "But you tasted so good time, I couldn't wait for more."

Bradley blushed, mostly ashamed. He certainly had nothing to be proud about. “I’ll be right out…” he said to her and she nodded and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her lipstick was improper, her hair was well and truly a mess. Just how he liked it… if it was you. And he knew she would run out to tell her friends exactly what had happened, darting out alone.

Rooster looked at himself in the mirror, taking in his reflection and rubbed his tired face. “Who the fuck are you, Bradshaw?” he accused himself. He took a deep breath, ran his hands under the cool water, washed his palms then splashed some water on his flushed face. “Jesus,” he muttered to himself before inhaling sharply and straightening up.

“Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck,” Natasha muttered to herself as Bob caught wind of her strife and looked up from his peanuts, concerned for his friend. "Fuckkk."

“What’s up, partner?” he asked, perplexed. She lifted her phone and the text you’d just sent. “Oh,” Bob said, adjusting his glasses, a trait he did constantly as he grew nervous. “That is… that is not good.”

“No…” Natasha agreed, casting her gaze to find Rooster, but he was nowhere to be found. “Shit.”

Rooster had spotted his new friend with her group and gave a slight nudge towards the exit when she caught his eye. Excitedly, she gave a wink back as her friends gave her teasing words of encouragement but Rooster didn’t care. He just needed to get out of there.

The bar was stifling and he didn’t feel like Phoenix’s third degree on his life choices anymore. He wasn’t a dickhead – he was well aware he was making poor decisions. Bad Choice Bradley. But this wasn’t his first one lately, and it certainly wouldn’t be his last.

Darting through the throng of officers and civilians, he made a beeline for the door, thrusting it open, and he’d be lying to say in his frustration, there was some heat and malice behind it.

“Jesus, goddammit,” the voice hissed on the other side, the heavy door hitting a patron on the other side trying to enter. Rooster tried to catch them, almost knocking them to the ground in the process and he couldn't believe his dumb luck that it was you who were on the other side as he tried to phantom his escape. You skipped backwards quickly as Rooster yanked the door back, trying to stop its force. His face paled when he realised just who it was he’d almost knocked off their feet.

He whispered your name, and you’d swear you had seen a ghost. “Shit, I’m so fuckin' sorry," he said, the recognition all over his face as he took you in, scared and studying you.

"Shit," you muttered. Bradley could hear the pain in your voice, whether it was through injury or just disgruntled, he couldn't be sure. “Hey,” you said nervously. This was not how you wanted to see him for the first time since you’d broken up.

“I was just leaving,” he explained, reminding you the door had walloped you in the elbow and you rubbed it in recollection, a gentle thrum from its impact. He looked back over his shoulder. “Shit, I’m so sorry,” he said again. He so badly wanted to reach out and kiss your injury better. The injury he caused, and he loathed himself for it. “How bad I get you?” he asked softly, taking a step closer.

Before he got closer, you closed in on yourself and covered the sting in your elbow with a step or two. “It’s fine, Brad – Rooster. It’s no worries,” you reassured him, flippantly. Your body language told him everything he needed to know. He was flatlining.

He nodded slowly, saddened at how you recoiled from him. "You sure?"

"Yeah. I'm sure."

“Okay. Sorry, huh?”

“It’s fine really,” you said as a pretty young thing wandered out. She joined Bradley on his hip and you didn’t miss how her hand curved into his elbow and how his face changed, the guilt masking his handsome features. She looked back at you both expectedly.

“Ready to go, Rooster?” she asked as he paused, gauging your response. He knew his timing was about as bad as it could be.

And yep, it looked exactly as it looked.

“Yeah. I’ll be just a minute,” he said, the embarrassment etched all over his skin as he ripped out your heart and toyed with it in his beautiful hands before you. His ears reddened and he licked his lips as she wandered away, calling back over her shoulder when she’d reached his Bronco. Well, she knew his car, maybe this wasn’t as new as it looked.

Yep, it looked exactly as it looked.

You’d thank Natasha personally for the warning in a moment - she probably wouldn't like it though. “Friend of yours?” you figured trying to balance your tone. Who were you to get upset at him? To Bradley Bradshaw, you were no one and that was what hurt the most.

“Something like that,” he admitted quietly.

Maybe you didn’t need that drink Nat promised. You needed Penny to drown you in the top shelf. “Nat’s waiting for me,” you explained to him. “Have a good night, Rooster,” you told him as he reluctantly pulled the door open for you to scurry under his strong, golden arm and get lost in the Friday night throng. He watched after you until he lost you.

Rooster ran his clammy palm over his face, he felt ill as he stepped away from the door. He wanted to be sick, he knew exactly how pathetic he looked. Why the fuck didn’t Natasha tell him you were coming? He would have hauled ass ages ago and without incident. He pulled his phone out and threw a brutal one-liner at her about giving him a head’s up next time and made his way to his car, where his friend/date/hook up/whoever was waiting with a bright grin.

“Thought you were gonna ditch me,” she laughed lightly, he could hear the uncertainty in her voice.

“Look, I’m really sorry, but I’m not feeling too well right now, and I have a real early start tomorrow morning. Think we could take a rain check?” he asked, keeping a safe distance from her. She raised an eyebrow.

“You sure? Five minutes ago, you seemed really fucking into that blowjob in the bathroom,” she hissed at hime. And it was fine head, her lipstick was still smudged on his cock, he would always be appreciative of anyone giving him their best. But again, it wasn’t your pretty lips, nose desperately trying to nuzzle the soft hair at his happy trail, staring up at him like he possessed all the stars in the sky. God, he was truly beginning to hate himself and he missed your mouth, however smart it was, wrapped around his cock, giving him an earful... kissing him.

He shook his head dismally. “Look, I can’t do this, okay? M’sorry,” he unlocked the car, hopped into the driver’s seat and keyed the ignition, peeling out of the carpark to the allotment of insults and birds being hurled his way. It would be some time before he decided to venture back to The Hard Deck, which was probably best.

And deservingly so, he reminded himself. He'd take a few weeks off from the bar, he’d been through this before. Never go back to the scene of the crime, especially after one-night stands. He knew better, but it all seemed so easy tonight until you were before him and ruined everything.

He pulled into a car park, the ocean bustling before him and he sat for a moment, his palms latched onto the steering wheel, his knuckles white as the adrenaline of the night coursed through his veins. Taught and teetering, he stared out to the ocean, needing answers to all the questions in his messed up brain.

God, you looked so beautiful. You had done something different to your hair, not a lot, just subtle, but he noticed it, the scent of his favourite perfume, it was so ridiculously expensive but it was the only real fancy thing you afforded yourself even if you used it sparingly, that drifted off you and enveloped him. He remembered it on his pillows, it lasted for the week until the sheets were changed.

But your eyes… They told the story. Seeing each other was a shock to the system, but you just looked so upset when… fuck, whatever her name was made her presence known. Getting his phone from his pocket, he sighed and found your last texts to each other.

It was all so sweet.

You: I love you, big boy. Hurry home to me xxx

Bradley: Love you too. Lemme finish up and I’ll be right there x

He ignored the subsequent texts he tried to send that all bounced back. Now it all seemed like another world and another time.

“So, yeah, that was fun,” you told Natasha as she gave Penny the signal to keep lining the shots up.

“You okay, darlin’ heart?” Penny asked sadly. Not that she wanted to pry, but Live had asked her to keep an eye on you if and when she could and she didn’t know if your mother was really wanting to see how brokenhearted you were.

“I’m awful,” you confided, voice strong but powerful because if you didn’t talk about this, you’d sink into another one of those solitary states where you wallowed in the misery of your broken heart, you were going to explode. “I have ruined the best thing that has happened to me then I get to see him take a one-night stand home.”

In no world would Natasha tell you this wasn’t their first hook-up and tossed back one of the lined up shots to avoid putting her foot in her mouth. “He’s slipped back into old habits,” Natasha shuddered as the tequila burned. She wasn’t defending him, but it was what it was as Penny made some polite excuses to continue working. “He a fucking moron, all dudes are the same. Easy pussy, get their dicks wet. They should all be lobotomised," she raised her shot and you, Natasha and Penny whipped the shots back.

But Rooster Bradshaw owed you absolutely nothing. And he proved he knew it too.

“He talked to me like a stranger. He’s never spoken to me like that in thirty years.”

“What do you mean?”

“Has he said he’s missed me or anything?” you asked, sadly and as Natasha prepared to answer, you dismally added, “I’ve ruined everything because I was scared about all the wrong things. Nat, I’ve messed this up and I don’t know what to do to fix it.”

She nodded but she heard what she heard. “…do you want to fix it?”

“I can’t function without him. I am just bumbling along, missing him while he is recovering alone. He's about to stand trial... he needs support,” and you know fully well that Natasha, Penny, Mav and others had Bradley's back but you also knew there were only a few people he'd truly let help him. “Will you still be here for the trial?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be here… I’m a witness. It’s the day after tomorrow.”

“Can you tell me how it goes?”

She nodded. “Of course.”

“I can’t believe I gave all this up.”

She nodded. “I hate seeing you hurting like this.” Both of you, she wanted to add.

“Does he talk about me?” you asked quietly.

Phoenix sighed, she didn’t want to get into this. Anything he’d ever told her was done so in confidentiality. And while you were her great friend, he was too. Rooster didn't have many confidants. "I - "

“Natasha. Does Bradley want to fix us?” you raised your eyes, and Natasha saw the tears that threatened to spill.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. Only hours before he was talking about his latest conquest. She saw that woman follow him into the bathrooms but she had no idea where her friend stood, even if she knew you two were so much better together. She could tell you how angry about it he was. But there was no way that was going to help the situation even if she was desperate to say or do anything that could possibly help.

You shrugged and took another shot. “Whatever, he’s clearly moved on and I will just have to accept that. Another round?" you asked, a casual frown gracing your features and Natasha nodded.

"One more," she loaded the bar up and couldn’t imagine being in her plane tomorrow if this was how the night was going to go.

masterlist.

Big thanks as always to @gretagerwigsmuse for helping me get this fic over this line x

A/N: the tag list no longer exists. To keep up to date, give @notroosterbradshaw-library a follow x

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