#I am in my feelings and I am feeling so many feelings like my heart being torn from my chest and pounded into the floor

[grumpydragontea]

Let's also address the bullshit excuses I've seen trotted out to defend this.

"It's a roman salute!" - The roman salute, also known as the facist salute was first attributed to known fascist Benito Musolini, who took a lot of inspiration from the Roman empire. It was then used liberally by Hitler and the Third Reich. Said gesture was inspired by PAINTINGS and has no ancient historical basis. I checked. Go ask a historian.

"That's not what a nazi salute looks like" - Actually it is. There's side beside comparisons and it's exactly the same. Chest thump, stiff downturned hand and all.

"It's out of context!" - The context is the world's richest man, whom many suspect directly interfered with the recent US election, who has familial ties to known nazi sympathisers, who's wealth comes from an Apartheid emerald mine, who has bought every position and bit of renown, spent years on twitter interacting and re-tweeting white supremacist bullshit AND has backed the neo-nazi party in Germany threw a Nazi Salute TWICE at the US Presidential inauguration. Also added context, this shit was blurred OUT in Germany, Austria and Australia. Cops that shits illegal here. Cos it's nazi shit.

FYI he also told said German neo-nazis that it's time to "let go of their guilt" on the anniversary of Auschwitz's liberation. I hope I don't need to spoon feed you what guilt he's talking about.

"He said he throws his heart out to the crowd!" - And Adolf said his heart beats for Germany while doing the same thing. Your willingness to take bullshit like candy doesn't change the fact that it's bullshit.

"He's autistic" - Bitch, so am I and I've never felt the urge to seig heil in my fucking life. And my family came to Aus from Germany. If I can't use the tism to excuse flat tone and resting bitchface, he sure as fuck can't use it to justify nazi shit.

"It was a mistake." - He did it twice. On stage. Will full feeling. You apologise for mistakes. He hasn't.

"He's jewish" - No he's not. The closest I could find is him saying he's "jewish by association" after visiting Auschwitz.

"But Waltz/Kama/insert democrat here did it!" - I heard this and checked and every example is a screenshot of said democrat gesturing, waving or doing something else. Funny how context only matters when it's in the defence of a man doing nazi shit huh?

This is nazi shit. If you defend it, you are defending nazi shit. If you do it, you are doing nazi shit. And people will likely assume you are a nazi. Also if you do it, film it and join the growing number of morons that have gotten fired for doing nazi shit.

Thankfully there's a lot of people who can see this for what it is and know the historical precedent for dealing with nazis.

Take it away Hellboy.

what do you mean elon musk did a nazi salute on live tv at the united states presidential inauguration twice and is now erasing the evidence off the internet by replacing the footage with the crowd cheering instead?

would be a shame if people reblogged this, wouldn’t it?

[sugarwarachan]

currently having heart palpitation over hawks being soft just for you. subby!hawks

you’re the one person where he feels comfortable shedding his many personas, the only one who actually makes him feel safe. it’s why he’s here now, arms wrapped tightly around your waist, face pressed into your neck, huffing down your scent like a man seeking reason in a mad world

he’s a performer, a do-gooder, a hero intent on flashing bells and whistles so no one will know that the pain originates inside of him, so the minute he hears your soft little voice say, “bad day, baby?” he’s practically doubled over in gratitude, in relief—finally, finally, he can put the performance away

he just nods against your neck, body tense, and lets you take the lead. closes his eyes tight to keep himself from falling apart when you whisper in his ear, “let me do all the thinking, then, okay?”

when you care for him like this, he’s hesitant to call it sex. it’s something more sacred, divine, your body transcending the words he knows you long to use. you make him feel something he’s never felt in his entire life

you gently push him onto the couch and unbuckle his pants, knowing smile curling your lips when you see how hard he is, straining along the length of his thigh

“poor baby,” you coo and lean in, licking him through his briefs. he nearly cums then and there, fists his hand in the back of your hair to stop you—

“sorry gorgeous,” he says, chest heaving. you love taking care of him because it produces this effect, golden eyes blown out in arousal, wings rippling out and preening behind him. “need you too much for that.”

both of you undress economically and without fuss—skin-to-skin contact is the goal, and hawks already thinks of your beauty as sacrosanct. it doesn’t matter if you sashay your hips at him or not; the want is there 24/7 regardless

you cup his face in your hands and kiss him, gently working your clit along the head of his cock, rubbing back and forth until his hands clamp down on your hips in a silent plea

hawks’ arms wrap around your waist once you roll down onto him, holding you close, forehead pressed to yours as you ride him, mouth hung open in pleasure

he begs you to go harder, faster, “please dove, feel how fucking close I am” as his cock pulses inside you

as he gets closer, he mumbles a litany of moans and whimpers into your neck, punctuating each roll of his hips with a claim, “my darling, my little bird, my fucking girl”—drinks in the sight of you falling apart on his lap like a man finding salvation

later, when you're carding your fingers through his hair in the shower, he says what he's been meaning to for months, "I love you, too"

[starmocha]

ok so I know we're all taken in by colonel caleb and his complexity and i'm enjoying all the smut (🙏🏻💕) but i'm looking at him and thinking about how he'd react if mc got pregnant 'cause in ny head he'd react like I think sylus would as in he'd shower her in kisses while crying but imagine him being scared of holding the baby because of his arm, terrified of hurting that tiny being but the second he holds them the fear goes away and he's planting kisses on the top of the baby's head 🥹😭

CRYING. SOBBING. YEARNING. Anon, if you've been around my blog long enough, I have mentioned numerous times how my 3-part Caleb breeding kink (and pregnancy) series will happen. With the recent revelation about his arm, I was reflecting on how to tackle this series with regards to Caleb's character. I hope his future memories will also deal with this more, so we can get a better understanding of the changes and his own mental state regarding it.

omg ok we all probably know by now I am weak to the Caleb thoughts, so...so...just a little snippet. Just a tiny short snippet...

Sweet Little You

She was safe. They were safe.

Caleb watched with relief as you slept peacefully, exhausted after the grueling 34 hours of labor. He had dedicated his whole life to keeping you safe, protect you from dangers and prevent you from ever feeling pain, but in those long, slow hours, he had felt so utterly helpless as he watched you braved through the tribulations of motherhood.

He knew you were strong, knew that you were more than capable, but it did not deter his innate desire to shelter you.

It had only been a few hours since the baby was born, he realized, as his large hand rested on your head, gently smoothing your hair. He could still see your tears, heard you crying as you poured all of your strength into delivering his baby. You had gripped his hand so tightly, and though that right hand of his could no longer feel anything, his heart still did, torn apart at every scream, every sob that passed your lips. He did his best to encourage you, reassured you that everything was going well, that soon you both would meet your little one.

He wasn’t sure if what he had said helped or not, but you had still held his hand, holding tight to him just like long ago when you two were little. Maybe you still needed him, still wanting to lean on him like you used to.

He bent down and placed a soft kiss on your temple. “Thank you, my darling.”

Caleb’s ears perked up, hearing the sudden quiet fussing of his newborn. He looked to the hospital bassinet placed close to your bed. The baby was starting to stir, waking up from a peaceful slumber.

He quickly moved closer, his paternal instinct kicking in. He bent down lower, his voice softer than normal. “Hey, hey there, little one,” he said, about to reach down for the baby, but he paused, worried.

The baby’s face scrunched up, its cries still soft, but steadily growing just a bit louder. Panic briefly passed Caleb’s features, suddenly unsure of his own ability as a father. He could hear you stirring behind him, but he didn’t want you to wake yet, knowing you still needed more rest. He pushed down his own feeling of anxiety, and he bent down again, gently scooping the baby up.

The baby was so small, he couldn’t help but think, being able to hold the baby within his two hands. He readjusted his hold, cradling the baby within his arms, and his heart felt like it was slowing in time, his breathing almost stilling entirely as it finally seemed to clicked in his mind that he was holding his baby. This little baby, conceived from the love between you and him, was now here, in his arms, and he could barely stifle the sob that almost wanted to escape, his heart suddenly overwhelmed with so many different emotions ranging from disbelief to amazement and finally profound, unconditional love.

The baby’s cries ceased, replaced by soft cooing, and Caleb let out a breathless laughter, his earlier anxiety slowly receding. He still wondered about his capability, but more than that, he wondered how it was possible to love someone you had just met. When his eyes drifted up, settling over your sleeping form, he almost laughed again, realizing he had never found the answer to that question, having always been a willing victim of “love at first sight.”

He shifted his gaze back down to the tiny baby in his arms, his lips resting over the infant’s forehead, the sweet scent of the newborn filling his nostrils, and a warmth unlike anything he had ever felt before filled his chest.

“Welcome to the world, my little one,” he whispered, “We’ve been waiting for you.”

[moonstruckme]

fae!Sirius asks for your name and you give it to him immediately because he's just so pretty wtf and he feels too bad to steal it from you because you're looking at him like he's a god and sure, it's not uncommon for his 'victims' to think he's beautiful but something about *you* just makes his little fae heart race-

I'm so normal about him I promise <3

Babe you have no idea how this has sat in my brain since you sent it all those months ago. I am not normal about him. Thank you! <3

fae!Sirius x whimsical!reader ♡ 804 words

Sometimes, when you leave your gifts in the forest, you’ll think you hear movement behind you. A soft crunch of the leafbed, or a rustling in the trees overhead. You’ll catch the rich scent of soil after a storm, though it hasn’t rained for days and the sky is blue and cloudless. Sirius will watch as your head lifts, noticing these things, but then you’ll simply carry on with what you’re doing, stand up, and go home. 

One day, you stand up to go home and find him waiting for you. 

“Hello, lovely,” he says, watching in amusement as your human face stills with awe. Your lips part. 

You know instantly what he is. No human carries themselves like the fae do, like Sirius could melt into the foliage at whim and you’d never find a trace of him. None of your kind have features quite so fine, or hair so dark it eats the sun. Or eyes like his, ever changing, shifting colors like a fish’s scales. No, you recognize him with one look. 

To your credit, you recover quickly. “Hello,” you say back. 

Sirius smiles with his too-white teeth. “What have you brought me this time?” 

You look behind you, to the tree hollow where you leave your gifts, as though you’ve already forgotten. “Oh. It’s a new cheese I found. Sea salt and honey.” 

Sirius cocks his head, intrigued. “I’ve not had that before.” 

“I thought you might not have.” Your initial surprise is wearing off, giving way to a sweet airiness. Your smile is soft as fresh snow. “I try to bring new things for you to try. I didn’t realize how small the portions would be, though; you’re bigger than I thought.” 

Sirius looks at you, making his eyes flash. He expects you to flinch, but you gasp softly, leaning in as if to see better. Strange. 

“You think that because I’m this size now, I must always be,” he says. 

“Aren’t you?” 

He tsks, teasing. “Best not to make presumptions.” 

Once again, curiosity rules your expression. Your eyes squint and your brows twitch towards each other, but before you can ask more questions Sirius goes on. 

“You’re beautiful,” he says, a simple truth. He wonders if you know he can’t lie. “If you’d let me repay your generosity, I’d like to give you a gift in return.” 

Again, your lips part, but you hesitate. Such pretty lips, Sirius thinks. So expressive. 

“That’s alright,” you say after a moment. “I don’t need anything. They were for you.” 

Sirius hides a smile. Clever thing, not to accept gifts from the fae. 

“If that’s what you want.” He asks, in a voice like spidersilk, “But what should I call the beautiful girl who’s left me so many gifts?” 

You smile and give him your name without reservation. Perhaps not so clever after all. 

Sirius says it back to you, rolling it around in his mouth. It leaves a sweet aftertaste on his tongue. You nod in clueless confirmation. 

“Can I ask yours?” 

“No,” says Sirius, “you may not.” 

You don’t appear offended. Your eyes are placid and trusting. Maybe it’s that look that makes him hesitate. Sirius knows what he’s meant to do now, what he’s done to others before you, but he finds himself tempted to wait. To see what you do next. 

“Well,” you say after a long silence, “I hope you like the cheese. If you want more, I can bring you some next time, but I should probably be getting home now.” 

“So soon?” Sirius asks. Though the breeze is cooling, and the sun’s dying rays tangle in your hair. 

You smile, almost apologetic. “Yeah, but—oh. Here, I forgot.” You reach into your bag, drawing out a long feather. It’s onyx black and shines like oil in the fading sunlight. “I found this at a friend’s house a few days ago, I meant to leave it with the cheese.” You look at him, shameless in your appraisal. “It sort of looks like your hair.” 

Sirius smiles, feeling the stretch of his lips with an odd sort of amusement. “It does,” he agrees. He lets you place the feather in his hand and feels the warmth of your fingertips on his skin with something like awe. A human has never been so bold as to touch him before. 

“I’ll visit soon,” you say, granting him one last, serene smile as you turn to go. “I hope you come out and say hello.” 

He thinks that he might. As you walk away, feet padding softly on grass and the shadows of trees falling over you like loving touches, he considers stealing the name you gave him so freely. 

But you’re lovely, and Sirius is a hedonist. He wants a taste of those lips given of your own free will. 

[oneforthemunny]

living in a material world |dom!eddie munson x sub!reader|

prompt: you have a new year's resolution to save money, and eddie is more than willing to help you. based off this no spend prompt idea

contains: minors dni. smut, smut, smut!!! dom/sub themes. everything is consensual. it's kinda soft!dom in a way?? not super bratty or super hard dom. dom!eddie / sub/brat!reader. spanking. alcohol. oral male and fem receiving. aftercare duh. language. shopaholic reader lol. they love each other and they're really kinky and horny.

word count: 8k+

New Years Eve, 1989 

“What’re you doin’ out here?” 

Arms folded over your chest, you stepped out onto the back patio of Steve Harrington’s home, the bitter chill of the night sending your body into a near shock. It was cold, so cold you were surprised it wasn’t snowing; too cold for Eddie to be sitting out in. 

“Hi, baby,” Eddie mumbled, lips wrapped around the cigarette that hung loosely from his lips. A cloud of smoke exhaled with his words, the familiar burning of nicotine filling the air, luring you to him. “Just came out for a smoke.”

“Hm,” You hummed, slinking with careful dragging steps towards the metal lawn chair he was sitting in, hands sliding down his leather jacket, squeezing his shoulder affectionately. The effects of too many plastic flutes of champagne were starting to take their toll on you, leaving your head a little cloudy. 

“Wondered where you went.” You sighed, carefully moving to stand between his legs. 

Eddie’s free hand found your waist, sliding over the velvet of your little party dress- he’d told you that you didn’t have to dress up, that his friends wouldn’t care, but you insisted. It’s New Years Eve, Ed, you told him with an eye roll that had him swooning. He was glad you dressed up anyways, always a little treat for him to see you in pretty things like that. 

“C’mere,” Eddie muttered, cigarette hanging loosely around his fingers, pulling you into his lap, grinning at how you squealed gently. “I know you gotta be freezing, sweetheart.” 

You leaned into the warmth of his chest, head pressed into the crook of his neck, letting his arms wrap around you, holding you close. “How are you not cold?” You muttered, words starting to slur gently, eyelashes fluttering with sleep. 

Eddie snickered around the smoke that rolled out of his nose. Such a lightweight, he’d tease, always poking fun at you for falling asleep the second a drop of alcohol hit your system. 

“No, I’m fine- hey,” Eddie’s leg bounced, shaking you on his lap. “Gotta stay awake, baby, it’s not even midnight yet.” 

“I am awake.” You scowled at him, tossing a glare and a pout his way, brows pinched in frustration. “I was just resting for a second.” 

Eddie snorted, bumming his cigarette in the ashtray. “Right.” He scoffed, hands sliding down your tight clad legs, squeezing your thigh gently with affection. “C’mon, sleepy girl, still got an hour until midnight.” 

Head tipping back to lay on his shoulder, your glazed eyes met Eddie’s, lashes batting up at him sweetly, a lazy smile on your face. Eddie’s heart swelled at the sight, your smile infectious, making his lips curl with you. 

“What?” Eddie said around a smile he tried to swallow. 

“You gonna kiss me at midnight, Munson?” He could smell the champagne on your breath, feel the warmth of it close to his skin.

“No, I think I’ll go for Jeff this year.” Eddie chided sarcastically, eyes rolling big and dramatic for show while his dimples creased in his cheeks. “Was that a real question?” He looked at you playfully. 

“Jeff?” You giggled, sitting up straight. “Jeff’s my replacement?” 

“Yeah, sorry, sweetheart.” Eddie shrugged playfully. “He just knows more about D&D, just knows the way to my heart.” 

You shoved his shoulder, rolling your eyes with a grin that matched Eddie’s. “Of course I’m gonna kiss you at midnight.” Eddie shook his head lightly, hands finding your waist, pulling you back into his chest, nose pressing into your shoulder, leaving a tiny kiss that had you squealing with silly giggles. 

“Might even take you up to one of Harrington’s guest rooms. Kiss all over you at midnight.”  Eddie’s voice dropped to a low gravel, leaving you shivering with anticipation, his teeth grazing playfully, nipping at your shoulder. 

“Stop,” Your cheeks burned, tingly with heat from the alcohol, from the way Eddie made your body rush with excitement. Eddie’s lips pressed against your shoulder again, hand on your tummy, pushing you back into him so he could kiss his way up your neck, leaving hot, wet kisses in his wake. 

“Eddie,” Your groan was anything but convincing, teetering on a moan. “Stoooop.” Nasally and whiny, just how Eddie liked it. 

“I’m not doing this out here.” You muttered, willing yourself to pull away, head tilting from his lips. 

“Why not?” Eddie muttered, lips vibrating on your soft skin. “We’ve done it plenty of times outside before.” 

“Yeah, but not when it’s twenty degrees outside.” You scoffed, his warm hand smoothing over your cold, tight clad legs. “Let’s go back inside. I’m freezin’.” 

Eddie groaned when you stood, body absent of your touch, but your hand still in his, tugging him lazily out of the chair. “Fine,” Eddie’s chains jingled from his jeans, standing with a soft grunt. “But, hey, you gotta stay with me, alright?” His hand found yours, fingers intertwined, the metal of his rings cold against your skin. 

“I wanna kiss you right at midnight. Gotta stay by me.” Eddie’s grasp pulled you into his side, squeezing your hip with affection as the two of you stepped back into the warmth of the party. 

“Hey, hey, look, there he is,” Gareth greeted Eddie loudly, a hand thrown at him in emphasis. “See, ask him now- Robin! Ask him now!” 

“Ask me what, Buckley?” Eddie rolled his eyes, reaching for the plastic cup of beer he’d set by the door. 

“We’re talking about our resolutions.” Robin smirked, proudly, a little darkly. “And we wanna know what your resolution will be for this brand new decade? Hopefully a better taste in music?” 

“That should be yours,” Eddie snided with a scoff over Steve’s bark of laughter. “And yours,” A finger jabbed into your shoulder. “Both of you have the worst fuckin’ taste in music I’ve ever heard.” 

“Oh, says you-” 

“-Yeah, Ed, that’s really bold coming from you. All your music is just loud.” You huffed, rolling your eyes big, for show. You didn’t miss the way Eddie’s brow quipped in warning. It made your spine tingle. 

“Loud, yes.” Robin nodded. “That’s the best word to describe it. Just loud.”  

“Well, yours is just bad.” Eddie scoffed. “Madonna?” 

“Oh, please,” You laughed. “You love Madonna.”  

Eddie’s lips tightened, pinks burning gently at the chorus of laughter his friends gave. The statement was a stretch, you knew it. Eddie liked that you liked it, and he especially liked when you’d sing for him in the van, silly and sweet. 

“Alright, alright, that’s enough kids.” Steve rolled his eyes, voice raising over Robin’s and Eddie’s. “Let Munson speak.” 

“I don’t have any resolutions.” Eddie shrugged. “I’m already perfect.” 

“Boo!” Robin cupped her hands around her mouth, sound echoing over the music. “Come on!” 

“I’m not participating in one of the stupidest societal pressures that have ever been created just because-” 

“-Here we go,” Jeff muttered, eyes rolling dramatically next to you. 

“-Fuck off, I’m right, alright? And you all know it’s stupid too. Over 90% of New Years resolutions fail, because they’re fucking unrealistic and stupid to begin with! I mean, you pick the middle of winter, after all these holidays to choose to get your life together? Fuck that.” 

“You got him all riled up now, Rob.” You passed her a grin, shoulder bumping hers playfully as you went towards the coffee table for another drink. 

“Hey, what about you?” Robin turned, leaning over the couch. “What’s your resolution?” 

“Hm, I dunno.” Your lips twisted in thought, legs a little wobbly from the liquor, yet you still poured yourself more. “I think I’d like to stop buying so much stuff. Save my money for big purchases.” 

“That was mine too.” Nancy nodded. “Stop buying things just because they’re cute. I have just piles of useless junk in my house because I thought it was cute. Now it just sits there.” 

“Exactly.” You smiled. “I’m the same way with shoes. If I see a pair of shoes, I have to have them. It’s like all my senses leave me, and then I get home and I have an identical pair already there.” 

“See? That’s a good one.” Robin looked over at Eddie pointedly. “Not all resolutions are stupid, Munson, your girl has a great one.” 

“Yeah, can’t argue with that.” Eddie’s tongue ran down the side of his cheek, shrugging lightly, though his eyes stayed dark, rolling over your frame the same way he did when he was thinking of a punishment or a new something to try in the bedroom. You didn’t bring it up and neither did he. 

New Years Day, 1990

The New Year rang in quickly, filled with liquor soaked cheers and a rather sloppy kiss on Steve’s couch from Eddie. His ringed hands cupped around your cheeks, pulling you in, uncaring of the ones around you. It left you giggling, nose brushing his, chest spilling over with heat like a froth of champagne bubbles. 

The night was uneventful after that. You’d said your goodbyes to your friends with silly, well wishes for the New Year. Eddie got you in the van, hand on your thigh as he drove carefully through the backwoods towards the trailer, eyes peeled for any cops. You’d nodded off twice, a gentle shake to your thigh waking you with a frown, giving Eddie a sleepy, drunken growl of, “‘M awake.”   

The next morning, when you woke with a slight headache and an incredibly dry mouth, Eddie had two aspirins already beside your bed with a glass of water. Your makeup had been washed off, your party dress swapped for an old, worn t-shirt, and Eddie next to you, his arm lazily thrown over your waist. 

You thanked him by palming him through his boxers, straddling him and pressing warm, gentle kisses down his neck until he woke up, grinning with sleep lines still creased into his cheeks, eyes half lidded with sleep, but his hands on your waist, bunching up your t-shirt. You started your first day of the New Year in your favorite fashion- pressed to the mattress, nails digging and scratching down Eddie’s shoulders and spine while his hips snapped furiously into yours.  

“Hey,” Eddie muttered, chest still covered in a soft sheen of sweat, propped against the pillows piled on the head board. 

“Hey,” Your giggled floated back towards him, the sun shining through the slotted blinds, illuminating over your features. 

“I’ve been thinkin’ about what you said last night.” Eddie hummed. 

Your face fell, blinking blankly at him. Fuck, what had you said last night? The night was a little hazy, liquor soaked, and blurry.

“Nothin’ bad, baby.” Eddie could read you easily, too easily sometimes. “I meant about your resolution.” 

“Oh,” Your shoulders fell gently, relaxing at his words. “Yeah, what about it?” 

“I was just thinking,” Eddie groaned lightly, sitting up. “If you were serious about that, maybe, I dunno, maybe I could help you out with it.” 

“Help me?” You grinned, pulling the crew neck over your head. 

“Yeah, help you.” Eddie’s lips twitched in a grin, eyes trailing your ass as you bent over, shimmying your panties on. “Help you keep it.” 

“How would you do that, hm? Lock my bank card up? Take away my piggy bank?” You teased lightly, rummaging through your drawers for your pants. 

“Somethin’ like that.” Eddie hummed, head lolling to the side lazily. “I was thinkin’ more like, you break your resolution, I get to punish you how I like.” 

Your spine straightened at his words, that familiar icy rigidness flooding your system. “What?” A squeak of a response that left Eddie grinning. 

“Y’know, just as an incentive, or- well, maybe more as a deterrent to keep you from breaking your resolution.” Eddie’s hands twitched under the covers, excitement coursing through his system. “Make it a little fun, don’t you think?” 

“Doesn’t seem all that fun.” You muttered, brows creasing. “Sounds like you get to have all the fun, just waiting for me to mess up.” 

“No, no, hey- c’mon, baby.” Eddie sat up, shaking his head gently. “‘S not like that. I just- I thought it would be fun. Thought you might like that.” 

Your fingers tugged and pulled at the sweatpant strings in your hand. It did sound fun, exciting, at least, but you didn’t want him to know exactly how eager you were. 

“What do I get as a reward?” You countered, eyes narrowing gently, lips twisting and pursing. “I mean, if I break it, I get punished. But what if I don’t break it? What’s in it for me?” 

Eddie snorted lightly, chest rising sharply with a laugh. “Well, I mean, you don’t break your resolution for one.” He said pointedly. “But, fine, for every week you don’t break your resolution, you can decide what you want your reward to be.” 

“Hm, that’s a pretty good deal.” You hummed, lips twisted in exaggerated thought. 

“Yeah? You wanna do it?” Eddie’s eyes lit up, wide with excitement. 

“Before I agree,” You lifted your finger. “I want to clarify a few things.” 

“Go for it.” Eddie nodded. 

“This is only for silly purchases, like the shoes and the trinket things, ok? The impulse buys. If it’s a planned purchase, that doesn’t count.” You crossed your arms gently. 

“Ok, I’ll agree to that, but you have to tell me if it’s a planned purchase ahead of time, alright? Can’t just buy something and go, oh, it’s a planned purchase! That’s not fair.” Eddie mocked your voice, face scrunching in exaggeration. 

“One, I don’t sound like that.” You frowned, leaving Eddie snickering. “Two, fine. I’ll agree to that.” 

“Sound like a deal?” Eddie’s brow lifted. You nodded. “Gotta shake my hand, baby, seal the deal.” 

You rolled your eyes at his dramatics, walking towards the bed, your hand slipping in his extended one, giving it a firm shake, before Eddie’s grasp held on tighter, pulling you towards him and onto the bed. He wrapped his arms tight around you, grinning at your squeals and shrills of giggles, pressing his nose into your cheek, peppering your face with kisses. 

January 16th, 1990

The first week had been a breeze. 

The first two days of the brand new year were spent mostly in bed with Eddie, cleaning around the trailer, revitalized for what opportunities the new year would bring. An exhausting return to work came quicker than both of you would have wanted, mixing with the sun setting at six o’clock, you’d blame your deterrent of spending on the frigid weather and your own exhaustion. 

However, that didn’t stop you from claiming your reward that Sunday. An hour and a half spent sitting on Eddie’s face until you nearly cried from pleasure, collapsing in a boneless pile next to him. Your favorite reward, and one he was more than happy to give you. 

The next week, it was more difficult. Especially when the boutiques around the downtown square, that you’d pass on your way to work, started to put up their winter clearance. When the pair of boots you’d been eyeing forever were finally marked half off. And they were so cute. You told yourself you’d just go by and look when you got off, just a peek. 

Luckily, your size was sold by the time you got there after your shift. Divine intervention, maybe. The universe telling you to stick to your resolution, that you don't need more shoes. 

Your Sunday reward wasn’t as sweet as it was the time before. 

The itch began after that, growing and gnawing at you. The shop windows you used to adore looking in now taunted you, reminded you of what you couldn’t have with every handbag, sweater, scarf, shoe, anything. 

“Hey, you wanna go to the mall when I get off?” Eddie hummed, pulling you away from your magazine. 

You thought flipping through a Vogue might settle some of your desire to buy something, seeing the obnoxiously outrageous prices- so far, it was only making it worse. All you could think about was how Shonda’s Shoes had an identical looking pair of knock off Jimmy Choos that were going to be the rage this spring. 

“Yes,” Your eyes lit up, snapping the glossy pages shut. 

Eddie’s brows lifted playfully, disappearing under his curly bangs. “Wow, that’s pretty eager. You don’t even know what it’s for. What if it’s something terrible?” 

“At the mall?” You snorted lightly. “What’s terrible at the mall?” 

Eddie shrugged lightly, slurping down the last of his coffee, putting the mug in the sink. “I dunno, I’m sure there’s somethin’ shitty in there, but I need to go to the music store. Get a couple more guitar picks. I keep losin’ them.” 

“You keep throwing them after your shows.” You gave him a pointed look. It was true, the more popular Eddie’s shows had become at the small town dive bars, the more daring and eager he got on stage, really putting on a performance, and always tossing his guitar picks towards the drunken, middle aged women who danced by the stage his entire set. 

“Aw, don’t be jealous, baby.” Eddie cooed mockingly, arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you back into his chest. “I’ll throw one to you next time.” His lips buzzed against your cheek, stubble tickling your skin as you squealed with giggles. 

Four o’clock couldn’t come quick enough. Eddie had only worked a half shift, much to your pleasure. 

“You’re already ready?” Eddie grinned, dropping his keys on the entryway table when he walked in. 

“Yeah, you said four.” You twisted your watch band around, looking at the face. “It’s four-fifteen.” 

“I know, baby, I’m just messin’ with ya.” Eddie’s brows furrowed, quipped with questioning, eyes flickering back over to yours. “‘M just gonna shower real quick. Change my clothes and we can go.” 

Your shoulders tightened, annoyance rolling over your frame that you tried to contain. “Alright.” You muttered, trudging behind Eddie towards the living room, plopping on the couch while he started down the hallway. 

A ringed hand caught on the doorframe, Eddie leaning back to look at you fully. Your lips pressed out in a pout, arms crossed over your sweater, staring boredly at the television that wasn’t turned on. 

“Hey,” Your head snapped, turning towards Eddie. “You alright?” He frowned, head tilting the side gently. 

“I’m good.” You replied, too monotone for Eddie to get a real read, though it felt off. You felt off.

Did he forget something? Say something? It wasn’t an anniversary, and it was just a Tuesday- not typical for a date night. Why were you being weird? 

Eddie decided against asking you that, when he emerged from the shower with clean, non-work clothes on, ready to go. Your mood had changed, entirely, bright eyed and bubbly from the moment he grabbed his keys. 

It was such a one-eighty that it left Eddie’s head spinning a little. Maybe he’d looked too much into it, maybe he was off. It had to be him, strolling through the mall with you, hand in hand, while you chatted aimlessly about your day, and meaningless gossip you’d heard from your friends. 

“Oh, look,” You gawked, hand tugging Eddie’s, pulling him off his path and jolting him to where you’d stopped. “Bakers are having a sale.” 

“Baby,” Eddie laughed lightly, lips curling gently. “C’mon.” 

“What?” You frowned, looking over at him. 

Eddie blinked, a scoff of a laugh leaving his lips. “Sweetheart, c’mon,” His hand tugged at yours, stepping away. “You know our agreement.” 

“What agreement?” You snapped much louder than he would have liked, pulling the attention of a couple passing by when you yanked your hand out of his grasp. “I can’t go to the store I want to go to?” 

“Stop it,” Eddie hissed, cheeks burning at your sudden change of mood. “You know what I’m talkin’ about, alright? It’s your resolution, and you know our deal.” His voice dropped, crowding in close to you. 

“So I-I can’t even look?” Your lips were beginning to tighten, to fall in a straight line that Eddie knew far too well. 

“If you want to look and torture yourself, fine,” Eddie huffed. “But I know you’re going to want to buy something.” 

“No, I’m not.” You grumbled, stubbornly, glaring at him. “I just want to look.” 

“Fine,” Eddie shrugged, his shoulders loosening but his jaw still clenched tight. “Let’s go look. Just look.” 

“I know, Ed,” You snapped, shrugging the hand he placed on your shoulder off with a huff. “You don’t have to be such an ass about it.” 

Eddie didn’t respond, tongue rolling down the side of his cheek instead. You looked back, eyes rounded gently in question, the same look you always gave him when you were testing his limits, pushing him to see if you’d accidentally pushed too far this time. 

After the third look back, Eddie relented, his hand finding the small of your back, hesitantly at first, closing in the space. “Hey, look at me for a second,” Eddie muttered, his hand sliding over your cheek, your eyes rolling up to meet his gaze. 

“I’m not trying to be an ass. I’m just tryna help you out.” 

“I know,” You muttered, your own shoulders flailing in defeat. “I just- I just wanted to look.” 

“Alright,” Eddie nodded, thumb swiping over your cheek bone gently. “Look as much as you want. Just- Let’s not fight. I don’t wanna fight with you tonight. I’ve been looking forward to this all day.” 

“Me too.” You admitted, though you felt you both had slightly different reasonings for the excitement. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s alright. I’m sorry, too. I wasn’t trying to be a controlling dick.” 

“I know.” You hummed, chin ducking forward, stealing a quick kiss that had Eddie’s cheeks pinkening. 

Your hand found his again, squeezing it gently. “Let me just look one more place, and we can go. I just want to see if they got in anything new.” 

Eddie followed you wordlessly, contently letting you drag him down the next aisle. He didn’t say anything, no protests when you picked up the newest arrival, a red leather, pointed toe heel that was sure to be the next big thing, or so the sales associate told you. 

He didn’t say a word even when you tried it on, modeling it in the mirror for yourself, lip tucking between your teeth, twisting your foot around to look at it through every angle. Even when the sales associate was schmoozing you, telling you how they were made just for you, and Eddie could see you swaying. 

He sat wordlessly, watching you through the mirror. 

Eddie didn’t say a word, not even when you gave him your best, sweetest, pleading eyes. 

When the two of you left the store, empty handed, it was your turn to sit wordlessly, a little sulky and petulantly while you followed Eddie to the music store. 

January 19th, 1990

“So you’ll meet me there?” Eddie’s voice rang through the other end of the line, the phone cradled to your ear. 

“Yes, baby,” You hummed sweetly. “I just gotta change when I get off, and Robin’s gonna pick me up. I’ll be there before you go on. Promise.” 

“Alright, sorry, I just- I’m excited.” Eddie admitted over the phone, and you could practically see his knee bouncing. “We’re playing Friday and Saturday night? It’s fuckin’ amazing.” 

“Yeah, it is.” You giggled gently. “I’m proud of you, Ed, you’ve worked hard for it.”

“Thanks.” Eddie muttered, nearly boyishly. “I can’t wait to see you.” 

“I can’t wait to see you either.” You whispered, hand cupping the receiver close to you. “I have to go, but I’ll see you tonight.” 

“See you tonight, sweetheart. Love you.” 

“Love you, Ed.” You muttered, a familiar tingly rush of heat swelling in your chest, phone clicking on the connection point, your nails drumming over the hard shell of the phone in thought. 

The guilt settled in your stomach, heavier than it was this morning when you’d left. Kissing Eddie goodbye, muttering something about having to be at work an hour early, the lie smoothly falling from your lips and he was none the wiser. 

Since Tuesday, you’d developed something worse than buyer’s remorse- not buying remorse, maybe? Regret? Complete and utter irritation and infatuation with the shoes that you couldn’t buy. And why couldn’t you buy them? Because of some stupid resolution? Eddie was right, New Year's resolutions were stupid. 

You’d thought about it, at least, waited and really thought about it. You had even looked through your closet and you didn’t have any like those shoes- sure, you had leather, and red shoes, but not leather, red heels. These were different, you didn’t buy them on an impulse, so in a way, you’d followed through a little on your resolution. Right? 

That’s what you told yourself anyways, swiping your card with an adrenaline rush far too heavy for just buying shoes. Your eyes lighting with excitement, clutching the bag with a white knuckled grip and giving the cashier a wild and wide smile. 

You’d gotten what you wanted, held it tight on the walk back to work, but the feeling in your stomach didn’t settle. There was no instant satisfaction, no momentary happiness like what usually came with your small meaningless purchases. This time, you still felt… unsettled. Even more guilty when you slipped them on later that night, the finishing touch to your planned outfit. 

“Hey,” Robin greeted, waving through the open window of the passenger’s seat in her date’s car. “Look who’s actually on time.”

You rolled your eyes, pulling at the door handle. “You and Ed act like I’m always late.” You snorted, sliding into the leather seats. 

“You are always late.” Robin laughed. 

“Now you really sound like Ed.” You muttered, setting your small clutch beside you while Robin laughed. 

The Hideout was already beginning to crowd when you arrived, filling with familiar and new faces, all gathered around the bar and tables, drinks in hand, waiting for the band to start up. You were shocked to see your table at the front was still available, heart swelling when you saw a small sign placed there that read, ‘Reserved for the Band’ in Eddie’s handwriting. 

“Here you go,” Robin passed you a plastic cup, sliding into the high top chair next to you. “Vodka cran for the number one groupie.” 

You scoffed, muttering a thank you, lips wrapping around the small black straw. “I love your shoes.” Samantha, Robin’s date, smiled, passing by you to sit by Robin. 

Your heart skipped, dropping in slight fear, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. “Thank you.” You nodded. 

Robin looked under the table, examining your shoes for herself. “Those are cute. Are they new?” 

“No,” You lied easily, a little too rigid for your own liking, but they seemed to buy it. “I got them last summer.” You waved lightly. 

“They’re so cute.” Samantha smiled. “They look just like some I saw at Baker’s, and I almost got them but they didn’t have my size-” 

“-Hey,” You jumped at the ringed hand on your shoulder, a flash of curls in your peripheral before Eddie was in front of you. 

“Hey.” You swallowed, grinning up at him. “What are you doing-” 

“- We’re about to go on, but I saw you and just wanted to say hi.” Eddie admitted, a little boyishness in his tone, in his smile, that made you swoon. 

“Hi,” You giggled, leaning towards him. “Good luck.” 

“Thanks, baby.” Eddie’s lips found yours, capturing you in a kiss, his fingertips pressed lightly under your jaw. 

“Ed!” 

Gareth’s annoyed bark pulled both of you apart, Eddie rolling his eyes. “I gotta go. I’ll see you after the show.” His eyes rolled over your frame as you stilled, bracing yourself for that furious look of shock in his eyes when he looked at your feet. It never came. 

“You look good, baby.” Eddie winked playfully, nodding at Robin and her date before he ran back onto the small wooden stage. 

You could feel your shoulders relax, ducking your feet back under the bar table with satisfaction. He hadn’t noticed, you knew he wouldn’t, but you couldn’t believe he actually didn’t. You felt smug, sipping on your drink, downing the liquor with the guilt finally being replaced with satisfaction. 

***

“You sounded sooo good.” Arms wrapped around Eddie’s neck, the two of you swayed next to the bar chairs while Eddie waited for his beer. 

“Thank you, baby.” Eddie laughed through a dimpled grin, his hand on your waist, holding you against him in case you fell- again. 

“Everyone loved it.” You hummed, running a manicured finger down the side of his face, over his damp hair line. “They fucking loved you.” 

“Yeah?” Eddie grinned, brows lifting in humor. He liked when you’d get drunk and silly like this, overly and smothering with affection. “How’d you like it though, hm? I only care about what you think. You’re the most important one, you know that.” 

Your giggly smile made his heart swell, leaning back to look at him, lips twisting dramatically in thought. “Hmm, what did I think?” You tapped a finger playfully to your chin. 

“I think-” 

“-Watch out.” Eddie grabbed at your wrist, trying to still you as you took a wobbly, wide step backwards into the path of the bus boy, stumbling into them, the empty drink he was trying to return falling from between his stacked fingers and right onto your shoes. 

“Shit!” 

“Oh no.” You frowned gently, chin dropping to your chest, looking at the melted ice and liquor that darkened the leather of your shoes. 

 “Sorry, man, she didn’t see you. I got it.” Eddie apologized quickly, picking the plastic cup up, shooting the teenager a look of apology. “I’ll clean it up. Sorry.” 

Eddie snatched the stack of napkins off the bar, dropping to mop up the small puddle by your feet. “‘M sorry. I didn’t even see him, Ed.” You mumbled, voice starting to shake with emotions, a warning of tears, drunk and emotional. 

“It’s alright. Don’t cry, sweetheart. Shit gets dropped here all the time.” Eddie’s hand rubbed over your calf gently, squeezing it to soothe you. “Did it get in your shoe? Or just the outside?” 

“No, they’re gonna be ruined.” Your slurred whine made him cringe, ducking back just in time to miss your swinging foot raise up, snatching the shoe off. 

“Baby,” Eddie hissed, pulling at your dress to keep it down. “Hey, c’mon, don’t cry. Just let me close out-” 

“-No, they’re ruined.” You sniffled, eyes shining with tears, scrubbing and dabbing with the cheap paper napkins at the soaked leather. “I just bought these and they’re already stained, and it's not gonna come out.” 

Eddie stilled, eyes flickering from you to the shoe in your hand, narrowing when he realized what exactly was in your hand. It was the same heels from earlier this week, red and leather and with a pointed toe, and now in your possession. He knew he recognized them, knew something about them looked familiar when he saw you in them- when he saw how good your legs looked in them. 

“Ed-Eddie,” You sniffled wetly around a hiccup, lip jutted in a far pout, looking up at him with glazed eyes. 

“C’mon,” Eddie nodded, grabbing your coat off the back of the bar stool. “I’ll fix them back at home.” His heavy arms were around your frame, guiding you carefully through the broken pavement back to the van while you babbled and sniffled, teary eyed and turned into his chest. 

Back at the trailer, he’d managed to get you into the bed before you’d collapsed, drunk and exhausted. The routine was nearly identical to the one just a few days before on New Years Eve; taking off your makeup, swapping out your little party dress for one of his tee shirts, two Advils and a large glass of water on the bedside table. 

Only this time, he didn’t toss your shoes in the closet, onto the piles under your clothes with the others. No, this time, he sat them right on the dining room table. He had managed to find the receipt in the trash, skillfully placed under a wad of paper towels that you’d tried to use to mask it. Eddie placed it next to the shoes, leaving them both for you to find in the morning. 

January 20th, 1990

“Ed,” Your groggy voice made its way into the kitchen before you did, hoarse from the liquor and singing from the night before. “Did you make any coffee? Please tell me you made some.” 

“It’s in the kitchen, baby.” Eddie replied smoothly, eyes still on the screen of the TV. “I kept the pot on for you. Should still be warm.” 

Your feet shuffled over the carpet, knuckling at your eyes. The muffled screech of guitars left you wincing, even at the low volume Eddie had the TV on while he watched his Saturday morning MTV show.

“Did you eat, Ed?” Your heart swelled, seeing the mug he’d left out for you next to the pot- your favorite mug. 

“Hm?” Eddie grunted back. 

“Did you eat?” Your head strained with an ache at the rise in your tone, thumb pressing between your brows to alleviate the pressure. “Or do you want me to make you something? Or we could-” 

Words strangled in your throat, you nearly dropped the mug onto the tiled floor of the kitchen when you turned. There on the kitchen table, your new shoes next to a neatly laid out receipt. 

“Could what?” Eddie said lightly, standing from the couch and turning to see you, wide eyed when your gaze met his. 

“Oh, yeah, forgot about those.” Eddie reached for the remote, muting the volume. “You know, when you told me they were new shoes, I thought maybe you were just a little confused and drunk.” 

His footsteps seemed heavier, louder and more menacing, sending a shockwave of adrenaline and ache right to your core the closer he got. “Then when I got you home, I realized those were the shoes from the mall.” Eddie stopped in front of you, hands resting on the back of the kitchen chair, looking down at you from the slope of his nose. 

“I thought there was no way, no possible way, you went back and bought those, but then, I looked in the trash and you know what I found?” Eddie tilted his head to the side, mockingly. You could only blink, tongue too thick in your own mouth to reply. 

Eddie’s pointer and middle finger fell onto the receipt, pushing it towards you, sliding it across the wood table. “Read the date on there for me, baby.” 

“Ed-”

“-Read it for me.” Eddie’s voice boomed, oozing with authority that had you pulsing between the legs, heart skipping at the same beat. 

Eyes cutting down, your teeth pulled at your bottom lip, eyeing the date printed boldly under the store’s name. “January nineteenth.” It was mumbled, nearly inaudible, and you refused to meet his gaze. You couldn’t, but you knew how he was looking at you. Eyes narrowed with a hard glare that felt nearly challenging. 

“January nineteenth,” Eddie repeated slowly. “Yesterday. You- hey, look at me- You went back to the store and got them?” 

The intensity of his gaze left you feeling vulnerable, like you were see through, squirming and shifting from foot to foot. “I-I just- I just wanted them.” 

“You wanted them?” Eddie lifted a brow. “Baby, you agreed to the resolution thing-” 

“-I know I did, Ed.” You snapped with a huff that teetered on bratty, throwing in an eye roll that had Eddie’s grip tightening on the back of the chair. 

“But, I didn’t, I didn’t buy them right then! I went home and made sure I didn’t have any like them, and I didn’t, so that’s not really breaking it entirely.” You countered, lip jutted lightly in a pout, eyes rounding up at him sweetly- hopefully sweet enough that you’d melt his heart, get him to agree with you. 

“We had an agreement,” Eddie’s fingers tapped on the wood of the chair. “If you wanted them, you could’ve told me, baby. Not snuck around and bought them. You knew what you were doing.” 

Your shoulders fell with a sharp sigh of defeat. “It’s stupid.” You muttered. “You were right. Resolutions are so pointless.”

“I know,�� Eddie snorted with a laugh. “But we still had a deal, baby, and you broke your deal.” 

“Ed, come on-” 

“-No, no, no, you were more than happy to accept your rewards. Now you gotta face the music, baby. Gotta take your punishment.” Eddie shrugged lightly, giving you a big sigh for show, like there was nothing he could do about it. It made you furious, even more so when you could feel your tummy erupting in thrilling butterflied. 

The wood chair screeched across the linoleum floors when Eddie tugged it back, wide enough for him to slip in it, legs spread wide. “Come on over,” His hand patted his right thigh. “I won’t go too hard on you, I promise.” 

Your cheeks burned, hot with embarrassed heat- embarrassed at the punishment or the fact that you were so excited to be punished, you weren’t sure. Hesitantly, you folded over his thigh, hands bracing yourself on his thigh, grabbing at the wooden leg of the chair while Eddie guided you over his knee. 

Eddie’s hand smoothed over your ass, bunching the cotton of your panties between his fingers, grinning when you whined, tensing at the anticipation of the first spank. “Relax, baby,” Eddie hummed, squeezing your left cheek, teasing. “You knew this was coming.” 

“Stooop,” A nasally whine left your throat before you could stop yourself, already beginning to squirm. “Don’t be mean to me.” 

“Mean?” Eddie scoffed playfully, brows lifting. “I’m not being mean. Not yet, anyways.” 

You huffed at his words, the air barely leaving your lips before it was sucked back in, a shocked gasp when Eddie’s hand fell without warning, hard against your left ass cheek. 

“I could have been mean last night,” Eddie’s tone cut, his hand slamming down in sharp, thundering smacks that left you gasping, clawing at the wood of the chair. “Could have let your shoes get ruined.” 

Your face twisted in distortion, the night before hazy. You barely remembered seeing Eddie after his set, the memory of the spilled drink flooding to you in liquor soaked waves. It was difficult to really recall with the assault Eddie’s hand was dishing out on your ass, your core aching with need, throbbing as you tried to wiggle your way to his knee. 

“I cleaned your shoes off,” Three hard smacks that had you raising, pushing off the chair to lift off, Eddie’s hand shoving you back into place, holding you there by the small of your back. 

“I made sure they didn’t stain, even after I found out you’d gone behind my back and bought them.” 

“‘M sorry! Eddie, I-I’m sorry!” A panting cry tore from your chest, nose and throat burning with tears, wiggling to try and escape his assaults that rained down unrelenting. You had managed to wiggle your way onto his kneecap, aching clit pressed down and hips rolling to alleviate the needy throb. You hoped he wouldn’t notice. Or maybe that he would. Maybe then he’d get bored of punishing you and might fuck you instead. 

“If I was really mean,” Eddie gritted, delivering a rather hard smack to the center of your bottom, mouth watering and cock straining with need, tented in his boxers. He knew you had to feel it, the same way he could feel your wetness on his bare thigh, seeping through your panties more and more with every roll of your hips. 

“I’d make you return the shoes.” Eddie’s hand fell hard again to the same space, the pain and vibrations of his hit leaving you dizzy, mind numbing with pleasure, mouth lolling open and choking on cries- of pleasure or pain, you weren’t quite sure. 

“Make you really learn your lesson then, hm?” Eddie growled, his voice gravelly with need, sending shivers of excitement trickling up your spine. 

“Please,” You panted between a moan. “I’ve learned my lesson. I learned it. I’ll be good. I promise, Ed, I swear.” 

Wet sniffles and clenched moans filled the kitchen, your hips still writing, desperate to dull the ache between your legs. Eddie’s finger traced over your puffy, pantie clothed lips, featherlight and teasing down your slit, pressing over the patch of wetness he felt at the front. 

“Eddie, please,” Your whine came, nasally and pathetic. 

“You ready to be good?” Eddie muttered, pad of his index finger pressing into your clit so you squealed. “Ready to be good for me? Do what I say?” 

“Yes,” You nodded, blood rushing to your head, still tipped over his knee. “I’ll be good. I’m gonna be good.” 

“Good.” Eddie clipped, pulling you up. You sat on his lap, just for a moment, blood rushing, head spinning from the mix of that sensation and your overwhelming desire. You barely had a moment to steady yourself before you were being stood up, shoved back to your knees on the kitchen floor.

“You wanna show me you’re sorry?” Eddie looked down at you from the chair, hips lifting to shove his boxers down, revealing his angry cock, leaking at the tip. You swallowed at the sight, thighs pressing together and squirming. 

“Show me how sorry you are.” Eddie stroked himself, nodding at you. 

Tongue running over your lips, your spine straightened, shuffling forward to take his length in your hand. Tongue flattening, your eyes were on Eddie’s, licking a long, wet stripe up the underside of his cock, tongue swirling around the head as you sucked it gently. 

Eddie’s head fell back, hands finding your head, pushing you gently onto his length. It was something he normally didn’t do, he knew you didn’t like it, but when you were being punished, he’d do it. Just to hear you gag, toes curling and hips clenching to keep from bucking at the vibrations from the back of your throat. 

“Thaaaat’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.” Eddie groaned, eyes half lidded with ecstasy, watching your head bob up and down, eyes glistening with tears with every deep thrusting gag he’d give. 

“Fuck, just- hold on.” Eddie gritted, abs clenching, pleasure beginning to coil tight, threatening to snap in the pit of his tummy. His hand found the back of your head, tugging at your hair, pulling you off his length. 

“What?” You frowned, the back of your hand wiping at your mouth. “It didn’t- Was it not good?” 

“No, fuck no.” Eddie shook his head. “Felt great, baby, always does. You know you’re so good at that.” He grinned, leaving you beaming under his praise. 

“So good I was about to cum. Don’t wanna do that.” Eddie’s hand cradled around your cheek, pinching the skin lightly. “Wanna cum in you. Stand up f’me.” 

You scrambled to your feet, legs prickly nearly asleep from being on your knees, wobbly with excitement. You ached between your legs, painful with need, bending over the kitchen table, pushing the shoes out of the way. 

Eddie paused, tongue running over his bottom lip. “Wait,” You turned, blinking up at him. “Gimme those.” He nodded towards the shoes. 

You frowned, hesitating when you grabbed them, handing them over to Eddie. His hand caught your wrist, tugging you upwards to stand. “Put them on.” 

“What?” You frowned, looking at the shoes- he really had cleaned them, even the bottoms looked brand new, the sweetheart. Your heart swelled. 

“Put them on,” Eddie nodded, standing, cock slapping against his tummy. His eyes were dark, pulling at your t shirt; his shirt. 

“I want you to wear those, just those.” Eddie growled, stroking his length, eyeing you hungrily while you pulled your shirt off, baring yourself to him. “Want you just in those shoes while I fuck you, you hear me?” 

Your head bobbed, nodding dumbly at his words, slipping the heels on with shaky hands. Eddie’s gaze on you the entire time, hungrily eyeing over your frame as you stood there, naked in your new shoes. 

“Mm, maybe you were onto somethin’, baby.” Eddie hummed, tongue rolling down the side of his cheek. “Maybe you did need ‘em. You look fuckin’ amazing in them.” 

Your chin ducked to your chest, shy under his praise, rushes of electric excitement trilling through your body. “Thank you,” You whispered, gaze still on the floor, looking at the red leather heels. 

“Come here,” Eddie motioned you over, his hands finding your hips, pulling you in for a sloppy, hot kiss that left you spinning. 

“Turn around,” Eddie growled, hands still anchored onto your hips, fingertips bruising the skin there. “Lean forward.” 

Your hands found the edge of the counter, nails digging into the tile, crying out in pleasure when Eddie’s fingers slipped between your legs, circling around your clit. 

He fucked you hard, barbarically against the counter. Hips snapping with a fury, deep and fast, sloppily circling your clit. He seemed to go faster, deeper, with every squeak of your heels sliding on the floors, snapping down to find your footing that was slipping away on shaky legs. 

Your cheek pressed to the counter, you felt him fill you, pulling out with his heaving chest laid over your back, both of you starry eyed and spacy with bliss. 

“I like the shoes.” Eddie rasped between heaving breaths. “Think you should wear ‘em again tonight.” 

Your breathy giggles were music to his ears, his own shoulders dropping with relief at the sound. The familiar guilt and uncertainty that always came after you played slowly slipping away, his hands pulling at your sweat soaked skin, pulling you closer to him, lips on your shoulder. 

“I will,” You sighed, cheek pressed to the cool tile of the counter. There was a pause, the two of you skin to skin, feeling each other in the silence of the kitchen. 

“I think I’m ready to call the resolution thing.” You admitted, eyes rounding when you turned to look at Eddie. “I don’t want to do it anymore. It was fun but… I don’t want to do it anymore.” 

Eddie grinned sweetly down at you. “Yeah? Don’t blame you, baby. Told you resolutions are dumb.” He teased gently, hand smoothing down your hip gently. “I did like given’ you your reward every week, though. Can’t lie. That part was pretty great.” 

“Yeah?” Your eyes lit up, turning in his arms to face him. “We can still do that part. I thought that was pretty fun too.” 

“Ooh, you did, huh?” Eddie cooed sillily, arms wrapping around your frame, pulling you into him with a shrill of giggles. 

“I tell you what, you keep those heels on, and you can sit on my face right now, for as long as you want. How’s that sound?” Eddie tilted his head to the side playfully. 

You found yourself in the bedroom not ten minutes later, the stem of the heels digging into your ass as you rocked, hands braced on the headboard, legs parts on either side of Eddie’s head as he devoured into you. 

The heels were his favorite, Eddie decided. A failed resolution, sure, but one of the best purchases you’d ever made in his eyes. 

[aventurineswife]

Dear amazing author (you really are! I and my friend have always feast 💜)

If I may request something - may I please request the hugs and assurance, that everything would be alright? For Aventurine, Argenti, general Jing Yuan, Boothill, DHIL / Dan Heng (you may add more, if you want, I'd gladly read it all!)

Not only I, but also my friend has bad period of time... These last two months mainly... :') college in the last year is not funny, ngl...

Thank you sincerely 💜

(also Toki, surprise ;D no matter what would happen, we are strong introverts forever 💜🤭)

We Mend as We Go

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Argenti x Reader, Jing Yuan x Reader, Boothill x Reader, Dan Heng IL x Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Vulnerability, Reassurance, Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Introspection, Found Family, Slow Burn (implied), Mutual Support.

Warnings: Mentions of Trauma, Burdens of Leadership, Existential Doubt, References to Vengeance and Loss, Themes of Loneliness and Emotional Isolation, Mentions of Past Violence (in Boothill and Dan Heng's parts).

A/N: 😭😭STAWWPPP!! Y'ALL ARE TOO NICE 🧍‍♀️😔, ALSO I can relate with college... It's never fun but neither was school (for me at least) :') enjoy this! ;)

The moon hung high over the city, casting a soft, silvery glow across the balcony where Aventurine stood, his sharp eyes fixed on the distant horizon. Despite his outwardly confident demeanor, there was a deep unease within him tonight, a rare crack in his carefully crafted facade.

You approached him quietly, your footsteps soft on the stone. He didn't turn to look at you, but the subtle shift in his posture told you that he knew you were there. You stopped beside him, taking in the view, before gently reaching out and placing your hand on his shoulder.

Aventurine’s smile was as enigmatic as always, but his eyes—held a flicker of something else: vulnerability. It was fleeting, hidden just beneath the surface, but you had learned to read him, to see past the games and the charming mask.

"Everything’s a gamble, isn't it?" he mused, his voice light, but with an underlying tension. "No matter how many victories I've had, there's always that nagging feeling... What if it all crumbles?"

You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around him in a tender embrace. He froze at first, caught off guard by the warmth of your presence, before he slowly relaxed, a soft breath escaping his lips.

"Then we'll rebuild it together," you whispered, your voice calm, filled with assurance. "You’re not alone in this. Whatever happens, we’ll face it."

Aventurine stood still for a moment, his heart pounding with an unfamiliar comfort, before he allowed himself to lean into the hug. His arms hesitantly wrapped around you, the gesture more vulnerable than anything he had ever shown.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice softer than usual. "You make the gamble seem worth it."

The night was quiet, the stars shining brightly above the peaceful valley where Argenti had paused in his travels. The weight of his armor felt heavier than usual tonight, as if the burden of his sacred duty pressed down upon him more than ever. He had been wandering for so long, always alone, always with the call of duty at his side. Yet, tonight, there was a crack in the armor of his conviction—a moment of doubt.

You found him sitting on a rock, staring at the night sky with a distant expression, as though lost in thought. Without a word, you sat beside him, the silence between you both comfortable in its familiarity. You didn’t need to ask what was troubling him; you could feel it emanating from him like an unseen weight.

After a few moments, Argenti spoke, his voice quieter than usual, filled with the kind of uncertainty he rarely allowed himself.

"Do you ever wonder if I’m doing the right thing?" he asked, his eyes reflecting the stars above. "I’ve faced so much... I’ve fought countless battles, restored cities, but... is it enough? Am I truly bringing beauty to the world?"

You reached out, gently resting your hand on his, offering him the comfort he often denied himself. Argenti looked at you, his sharp gaze softening as he met your eyes.

"You’re bringing beauty with every step you take," you replied, your voice unwavering. "It’s not about the battles or the victories. It’s about the light you share, the way you inspire others. You don’t have to carry the world alone."

Argenti’s shoulders relaxed, the tension that had built up slowly dissipating as he leaned into your embrace. His armor was cold against your skin, but the warmth between you was enough to melt the doubt away, if only for a moment.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice thick with gratitude. "It’s a lonely path, but with you, it feels less so."

The evening was calm on the Xianzhou Luofu, a rare stillness settling over the grand halls and corridors. Jing Yuan had long since finished his duties for the day, but the weight of centuries seemed to linger in the quiet moments, especially as he found himself gazing at the stars from his study. His eyes, sharp and calculating, softened as he thought about the future, the past, and the delicate balance he maintained as the General.

You entered the room quietly, approaching him from behind. Jing Yuan didn’t turn, but the slight shift of his posture told you he was aware of your presence. You stepped closer, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder, the touch grounding him in the present.

"Jing Yuan," you said softly, "everything will be alright."

He chuckled, a deep, warm sound that seemed to carry the weight of both amusement and something more. "You say that, but you know how fragile peace can be," he remarked, his voice soft with the wisdom of ages. "How long can it last?"

You knelt beside him, your presence a reminder that he was not alone in his struggles. You placed a hand over his, your fingers intertwined with his, and offered him a comforting smile.

"You’ve kept the peace for so long," you said. "You’ve already proven that you can handle whatever comes. But it’s alright to lean on others too. You don’t have to carry everything by yourself."

Jing Yuan’s gaze softened as he looked at you, a rare vulnerability in his eyes. "And will you be here... when the burden feels too much?"

Without a word, you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close, offering the kind of reassurance only love and time could bring. Jing Yuan, for all his wisdom and strength, leaned into your embrace, a sigh escaping his lips. He had known countless battles and victories, but in this moment, it was the peace of your presence that soothed him.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice quiet but filled with warmth. "With you, I know everything will be alright."

The cold winds of the galaxy howled through the dim-lit room, the hum of the ship's engine the only sound breaking the silence. Boothill sat by the window, his mechanical hand tracing the outlines of the distant stars. His white hair framed his face, the black streaks almost seeming to shimmer in the faint light. His sharp teeth were barely visible, lips tight, eyes focused on something far beyond the stars—something far beyond the pain he’d been through.

You entered the room quietly, your footsteps soft against the metal floor. You had always known when Boothill needed space, but tonight, something about him seemed different—more distant, like the weight of his past was pulling him under. The bounty on his head grew heavier by the day, and Oswaldo Schneider was still a shadow, always out of reach. His quest for vengeance was endless, and it was slowly consuming him.

Sitting beside him, you placed a gentle hand on his. His cold, metallic fingers trembled slightly under your touch, a sign of just how much his humanity was still alive beneath the hard surface.

"Boothill," you whispered, your voice steady but full of warmth, "it's okay. You’ve fought so long, but you don’t have to fight alone anymore. Whatever happens, we’ll get through it together. You’re not alone. Everything... everything will be alright."

He didn’t respond immediately, but you saw the slight shift in his posture—the way he leaned just a little closer, his hair brushing against your arm. His eyes, those sharp, calculating eyes, softened, just for a moment. The aim symbols within them flickered slightly, as though they, too, were taking a break from their endless mission.

His voice was low, rough, as though it had been unused for far too long. "I... I don’t know how much longer I can keep fighting like this." The words came out almost as a confession, a crack in his usually impenetrable armor. "Everywhere I go, it feels like I’m chasing ghosts. My family... my home... it all just keeps slipping away, no matter how hard I try."

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close. He stiffened at first, his mechanical body too rigid, but then, slowly, he let go of the tension, allowing himself to be enveloped by your warmth. His chin rested on your shoulder, the weight of his past pressing against you, but you held him tighter.

"It’s okay, Boothill," you murmured, your voice a gentle whisper. "You don’t have to carry everything alone. I’m right here, always. And I’ll help you find your peace, even if we have to fight for it together. We’re a team, and I’ll never leave your side."

For the first time in a long while, Boothill let himself relax, his grip on you steady but soft. The storm inside him had not yet passed, but in this moment, there was comfort—a fleeting sense of safety.

"You’re right," he whispered, his voice low, almost hesitant. "I’ve been carrying too much... Maybe it’s time to let someone else carry a little of the weight."

And for a moment, the stars outside seemed to shine a little brighter. As if even the universe itself was reminding him that he was not alone.

The stars stretched infinitely before you, the ship gliding smoothly through the cosmos. Dan Heng stood near the observation window, his eyes distant, gazing into the void. His posture was tense, as it often was, his sharp features betraying none of the turmoil within. The weight of his past, the memories of his previous incarnation, lingered like a storm cloud hanging over him.

You had known him long enough to recognize the signs—the way his shoulders would stiffen, how he would withdraw into himself when the shadows of the past grew too overwhelming. He had always been like this: detached, burdened by things he could not control, unable to fully reconcile with the legacy of his past life as the Imbibitor Lunae.

Without saying a word, you approached him. He didn’t turn to face you, but you didn’t need him to. You knew what he needed, even when he didn’t.

You reached out, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. His skin was warm beneath your fingers, but the tension in his body was like a barrier—one that you knew he had built over countless years. Still, you could feel the way his body subtly relaxed at your touch, just a fraction, but it was enough.

"Dan Heng," you said softly, your voice the only thing breaking the silence. "I know you carry a heavy burden, and I know it’s not easy to shake the past. But you don’t have to do it alone. Whatever comes, I’ll be here. You don’t have to keep everything locked inside. Everything will be alright, I promise."

For a long moment, he didn’t speak. He simply stood there, his gaze fixed on the stars, his expression unreadable. But you didn’t pull away. You stayed close, your presence offering the quiet reassurance he needed.

Finally, his voice came, almost like a whisper. "It’s hard," he admitted, his tone low, vulnerable in a way you rarely heard. "To live with all these memories. To know what I’ve done... what I was capable of... and still wonder if I can ever make up for it."

You stepped closer, placing your other hand on his back, your warmth reaching through the cold walls he had built around himself. "You’ve already done so much, Dan Heng. You’ve made a choice. And that choice is yours, not anyone else's. The past doesn’t define who you are now. You are not your past life. You’re you—and you are enough."

He exhaled slowly, as if your words had finally reached him, breaking through the fog of his thoughts. His hand, which had been resting at his side, slowly reached up, fingers brushing against yours. The touch was small, fleeting, but it was enough—a silent acknowledgment of your words.

For the first time in a long while, Dan Heng allowed himself to believe that maybe—just maybe—everything would be alright. And as he turned his head slightly to meet your gaze, the faintest of smiles tugged at the corner of his lips. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice soft. "I... I needed to hear that."

And in that quiet moment, amidst the vast expanse of the stars, you both knew that, no matter how far you had to go or how many trials awaited, you would face them together.

[driftingthruspace]

ok so dialtown!!!! very coolio groovy radical gnarly indie object-head dating sim visual novel that costs 8 dollars when not on sale :3 so yes very cheap and worth the price!! (OoOOooOOooOo you should totally buy dialtown and play it this totally isn't a hypnotization OOOooOoooOoo)

anygay. get your seatbelts ready and buckle up for the basic plot...

welcome to the lovely dialtown, some random-ass place in northern wisconsin, where every living thing (well, not exactly. plants and the such aren't beholden to this rule, but you get the idea) has some sort of object as a head! typically, women have typewriters, men have phones, enbies do whatever the fuck they want because they're cool like that, the usual... and yes, this even applies to animals. insects. local cryptids. god himself. you name it.

and YOU (yes, you!), the absolutely WRETCHED player character... is a green, hexa-nippled, gender-and-species-ambiguous cryptid Menace™ (key word: menace) who lives in a tent at the park because they refuse to be domesticated in any way, shape, or form! truly, the most contributive member to society, amirite or am i right???

then suddenly, you realize valentine's day had creeped up on you.. no, wait—

you realize your heavily pregnant self needs to lay eggs, and fast. and the osha-violating funfair is the perfect place for your future offspring! but naturally, playing as this delightful local threat, your ass is BROKE AS HELL!!!! (womp womp) and thus cannot get into the funfair without the precious moolah that you lack. alas, financial aid is needed for this imperative task...

and that's when your wonderful mind concocts a plan worthy of a pulitzer prize: you remember, "oh shit, it's valentine's day!!" (whaaat? no way!) and that the funfair is doing a special offer: 2 tickets for the price of 1 if you bring a date with you!! yup. you know where this is going. you better have the best rizz out there, because now your goal is to find a functioning member of society to latch onto like a damned parasite so you can finally lay your deplorable, unhatched children upon this dark, dank earth!

...also known as attempting to find Lové in this cruel year of 202X. i know, i know.. but romance (and sex, unfortunately?) ain't dead yet in the world of dialtown!!!! go pursue your romantic dreams to your heart's content by attempting to get with the park's pathetic swan wrangler, or maybe the chipper movie theatre cashier, or perchance the oh-my-god-why-is-there-so-many-ways-to-fuck-up-her-route bored bank teller, and more!!!! wanna find out who else? just play the game ;)

..and find out that perhaps your kooky shenanigans may have more weight than you realize....

but who's to say?

dialtown: phone dating sim, always available on steam 👍

on a more serious note, this game is pretty goofy and doesn't take itself seriously most of the time, but it will hit you in the feels with an actually really damn good story and the way too relatable and lovable cast if you get far enough /pos

also just to add on a bit, the visuals are pretty good (they prioritize color schemes. just stare at the backgrounds!!) and fitting considering the tone of the story. also the soundtrack is an absolute banger. the characters' themes fit them perfectly and the music is fully capable of setting up the right emotions for whichever scene

i recommend playing it for a good laugh or two for casual sake, though i understand its humor definitely isn't for everyone. and as you can probably already tell, it can get pretty raunchy at times, so be warned. do whatever floats your boat! you can watch a playthrough instead! i do have to say you can only really get the full experience by actually playing it blind though (and what i've already said aren't really spoilers so have fun if you choose to >:3)

and, of course, there's always the option of not engaging with this piece of media at all. mayhaps my description of the game is far too out there for your tastes. oopsie daisy! (but to be fair, dialtown really is out there)

anyway imma go eep soon. if you need me i'll be in my coffin. or something. i hope this is a satisfactory introduction to dialtown, gory 🫡

may this t-shirt post torture you no longer 😌

@ragsandrascals

happy thanksgiving

[peachyparkerr]

to be so lonely | patrick zweig x female reader

or marrying patrick zweig out of convenience <3

tags: fluff, marriage, kissing, talks of having kids, best friends to more, no use of y/n, not proofread so sorry but not, soft patrick because ik that man just needs some love and josh o'connor is softie and i said so

˳༄꠶ a little self indulgent fic because challengers nation will never die.

you'd like to tell yourself that you'd find someone to marry when there was a right person to marry. you'd also like to tell yourself that you weren't in a rush and you were perfectly fine being single or dating casually til that came. but of course, that wasn't good enough for your parents who were just itching to get you married off. they just wanted you to be taken care of, and they were so insistent on introducing you to some of their friends' sons, "just a few" they said. you didn't have the heart to tell them no.

that's how you find yourself here. hiding out in your childhood bedroom after talking to the umpteenth "eligible" bachelor from yet another, you'd lost count, party thrown by your parents just for this reason. these "eligible" bachelors weren't exactly the type of husband you were looking for. they were all full of themselves, too caught up in their jobs or alcohol, or just looking for a wife for the sake of being able to say they had one. you were getting fed up, and didn't know how many more men you could stomach talking to before your parents ended up arranging a marriage for you. that's why you were hiding up here, sitting on your bed, trying to wait out the party. anything to get a moment to breathe.

your solitude didn't last long until your door was opening. you hadn't expected to be found, but before you could stumble out whatever excuse came first as to why you were up there, you were met by the sight of a familiar tall, dark haired man appearing in your room. your childhood best friend and next door neighbor flashes his signature grin at you, and suddenly you can't help but feel so relieved.

"if it isn't the guest of honor. shouldn't you be entertaining another private equity investor?" patrick says, sporting his familiar smirk back at you, closing the door behind him.

"that or drowning out the sound of their voice by downing champagne." you laugh.

"oh you mean to tell me you're not fawning over these idiots? i'm shocked." he laughs sarcastically before sitting next to you on your bed. you make room for him and he settles him arm around you. "at least your parents are trying to give you options, i'll be lucky if i meet my future wife before they walk down the aisle."

"as if you're not meeting tons of women when you're playing tennis." you point out, poking his side.

"none that i like, none that i want to marry, and none that my parents would approve of anyway." he huffs. "call me crazy, but ideally i don't want to be married off to someone who just wants my money or my parents money."

"i get it. i have no interest in being a trophy wife yet that seems like all these guys my parents are trying to marry me off to. something just for show. is true love really that dead?" you sigh.

"maybe we just haven't found the right people yet." he says as he leans his head back against the headboard looking at you, waiting to see what you're going to say next.

"at least that's what i'm telling myself. i'm practically an old maid already. it's not long before i'm going to die alone, with no one to love me."

he scoffs at that. "now you're just being dramatic. you're not going to die alone, you're a catch."

"sure i am. that's why i'm only being offered up to assholes." you roll your eyes at his statement. you're being a little self deprecating, but you've had a long night. many nights, just like this one, in fact.

"anyone would be lucky to have you." he says, his expression serious looking down at you.

"in theory, sure, but...and I'm only saying this to you because you're my best friend... i'm genuinely afraid that no one's going to want to ever be with me and that i'll never find someone that values me enough to treat me like i'm actually deserving of love." you admit sadly, looking away from him and at your hands in your lap.

he moves from next to you to in front of you and forces your chin up to look at him.

"you are the smartest, kindest, and most beautiful person i know. you are deserving of the best love there is to offer. whoever marries you is the luckiest person in the world, hell i'd even marry you." he laughs but something in patrick's eyes almost has you convinced that he means every thing he says.

"you're just saying you'd marry me to make me feel better." you contradict but you can't help but feel your face flush at the way he spoke about you.

"i'm not because everything i said is true, and I know if I called my mom right now and told her I was marrying you she would cry tears of joy if it meant she gets to have you as a daughter in law. and now that i think about it..." his expression turns serious as he considers his next words but then he smiles big and genuine, "we should get married. for real."

"patrick, your mom has been pushing for us to get married since we were twelve, don't go joking around like that." you think he's being crazy and messing around like he always does.

"it's not a joke." his tone is serious but he's smiling. "why shouldn't we get married? we know each other better than anyone else, our parents would stop trying to set us up with horrible people, you get a husband and i get a wife. we won't die alone because we'd have each other."

"you're ridiculous. you're asking me to marry you, you realize that right?" you're completely taken aback by this. he's your best friend, has been since you guys were five years old, and suddenly he's propositioning you to marry him.

"i know i'm ridiculous, but you would be too if you turn me down. come on," he pulls your legs over his lap and scoots closer to you on the bed, grabbing your hands, "marry me. it's the best option."

you search his eyes for any sign of a lie. there is none.

"you're serious? you want to get married just because it's convenient? what are people gonna say about our fake marriage?" you question but your heart is just about beating out of your chest.

"not just because it's convenient. you're everything to me, and if marrying you means that i get to spend telling my best friend that every single day and making her feel like she's the universe's greatest gift to earth for the rest of my life, because she is, then why not? who cares if it's fake? nobody has to know anything other than that reason as an explanation of why we're getting married." he makes air quotations around fake but he's speaking tenderly.

"you don't even have a ring." you point out matter of factly, but you're smiling, and he is too because he knows that he's got you right where he wants you.

"i can get you a ring by tomorrow afternoon. but i'm assuming that's a yes? you gonna let me make you my wife?" he teases leaning in close.

"okay. i'll marry you patrick zweig." you smile and he throws his head back in celebration before kissing the top of your head.

you guys laugh in disbelief in what you guys just agreed to, but spend the rest of the party hiding up in your room talking about how you're gonna tell your parents and what your guys' wedding is gonna look like.

˳༄꠶

patrick keeps his word and shows up to your apartment with a ring the next day. you don't know how he managed to get the most beautiful ring you've ever seen in one day. you're in even more shock that it's exactly what you've always wanted. he slides it onto your finger with ease, and he's not surprised that it's a perfect fit. he thinks to himself that this ring he got for you looks right on your finger, like it's always belonged there. he intertwines your hands after, pressing a kiss to your knuckles wordlessly, before leading you to his car to take you to tell your guys' parents the news.

he doesn't leave your side the whole time, keeping a hand or an arm on you as if he can't be without touching you. your guys' parents cry tears of joy, like he said they would, and you play your part as the perfect fiancé with ease as they invite more and more people over to celebrate.

the parents don't hesitate to throw themselves into wedding planning and throw more parties in preparation. it's a lot really quick, but you don't seem to mind. he sees the way you light up looking through dumb magazines with your mom or how you smile when his dad breaks out pictures of patrick you'd never seen before. it makes patrick forget this is all technically fake.

patrick convinces you to move in with him shortly after. you try to protest, but he's already made the space for you.

"i can take over the guest room you know."

"no way. what kind of husband would i be if i made you take over that room? there's plenty of space here. besides, what will our parents think? we're supposed to be madly in love." he rolls his eyes as he insists, gesturing to the huge bed he has and the empty spots in his closet, but is trying to push down the thoughts of what it'll be like to have you close every night for what's supposed to be the rest of your lives.

"i'm just saying that as far as fake marriages go i wouldn't mind if you wanted me to sleep in the other room." you say with your hands on your hips, but sometimes saying out loud that it is a fake marriage, reminding you that it's not technically real, makes your stomach twist.

"but i want you here. i don't want you to sleep in the other room." he says with a pout, as if it's the most normal thing in the world. how could you say no now?

you don't put up a fight anymore, and he helps you put your stuff where it now belongs. when you go to sleep at night you both stick to your own sides. it stays that way for the first couple of months of living together, til one night you sleepily curl into him because you're cold and you can't sleep and he doesn't have thick enough blankets. he pulls you close because he runs warm, you fall asleep right away, with him falling asleep soon after. he's never slept better.

when you guys pick your wedding venue with both your moms there, he knows its the one from the way your eyes follow every detail and you hang onto every word of the tour. how you start to walk ahead of him and get excited. you finally turn to ask him what he thinks, but he's just about finished writing out the check for the deposit and handing it over to the person in charge. when he catches you looking at him, you smile and practically jump into his arms and kiss his cheek. he's never seen you so happy, and he's failing at fighting the way he's turning red.

˳༄꠶

after that the wedding starts to get closer and theres barely any time alone with all the celebrations and meetings and planning. sure, you guys get a moment to breathe back at your now shared place but usually fall asleep as soon as you get home these days. luckily, there is one fleeting moment where you guys escape to your childhood room once again.

your sat in his lap facing him as he sits up against the headboard, just trying to enjoy peace and quiet. he likes having you close like this, even if its supposed to be fake. you don't question it because part of you wants to believe he's always been touchy and you're still best friends. best friends that happen to be getting married.

after some time you remember something and sit up straighter.

"i almost forgot, i have something for you." you say breaking the silence and reaching over to your bedside table.

"you have something for me?" he asks curiously, his hands finding your waist to steady you. he watches as you pull a small box out and hold it out to him.

"open it." you instruct with a smile.

he raises an eyebrow at you, but you usher him to open it, and he can't resist you so he reluctantly pulls his hands away from your hips to take the box and open it. when he does, inside are cufflinks. but instead of ordinary ones, they're engraved, with his initials and yours. he feels his heart clench in his chest.

"wow...these are really nice." he manages to breathe out. it's the most thoughtful gift he's ever gotten from anyone.

"i thought you could wear them on the day you know and whenever you have special tennis events? i know we have wedding bands and you got me an engagement ring but i wanted to get you something special. something just for you." you say a little shy. he's done so much for you, and you guys aren't really ones to talk about feelings, but this can say more than words can.

"i love them." he says. i love you. he thinks.

you smile and he smiles back and you think that you could just kiss him right then and there. but before you can even finish the thought and convince yourself that you're making the right choice by not acting on it, suddenly your mom is calling you from downstairs to come help her with something. you both groan, but he tells you to go anyways. when you're gone, his heart is still beating out of his chest.

that night at your shared place when you're getting into bed he's quiet. he's beating himself up inside about how much he's in love with you and he can't say because this whole thing about fake marriage was his idea but he's going to marry you anyway and pretend everything's fine and have to be okay with that. how he should be bothered by questions like when are you guys gonna get a bigger place or have kids because it's way too soon, but he wants those things with you. he wants someone thats the best parts of both of you and looks like the perfect little mini version.

but of course you notice he's quiet. he's usually more outspoken, cocky and cracking jokes.

"are you okay?" you ask tentatively from your side, turning to him.

"oh... fine. just tired. " he faces you and the way you look at him so concerned, so caring, has him burning up, especially with the way he's lying through his teeth.

you reach out to him when you see how flushed he is, and you put the back of your hand on him to feel him and he's burning up. he burns up more, and you can't tell if you are too.

"you're burning up...maybe you're getting sick?" you're so concerned and you don't know if he's actually sick or if its something you did.

"maybe...i'm fine, though, really." he lies again.

"do you want me to sleep in the other room?" you suggest, not because you want to though, because not sleeping next to him almost is worse than him possibly being sick, but because you don't want to make anything worse.

"no!" he says a little too quickly and sharp. but he tries to cover it up. "stay."

you just nod and pull him close. he lets you, and immediately buries his head in your neck and breathes in the scent of your freshly washed hair. he's supposed to be strong and not so clingy like this, but the way he holds you tightly and instead of pulling away you rub his back makes him feel so weak.

you don't know what's wrong, and you don't want to make it worse or ask, so you just stay like that.

"you're okay. i got you, pat." you speak soft and sweet in his ear. and he believes you because he'd believe anything you'd say.

˳༄꠶

for the sake of tradition, you guys don't sleep in the same room the night of the rehearsal dinner/night before the wedding. and knowing this, you can't seem to keep hands off of each other the whole night. holding hands, his arm around your waist, your head resting on his shoulder. how are you guys are gonna kiss for the first time at the end of the aisle in front of all these people tomorrow and not lose your damn minds?

when parting ways for the night he hugs you tight, as if he's afraid he'll never see you again. he's also so nervous, not because he doesn't want to get married to you, but because how is he going to spend the rest of his life loving you and not tell you?

you hug him back just as tight, not wanting to admit you won't get any sleep without him next to you tonight.

"see you at our first look tomorrow." you say as you're about to part ways for the night.

"i can't wait to see your dress. do i get any hints on what it looks like?" he tries to joke to ease his aching heart.

"it's white." you joke back and laugh. he laughs too and you think it's the best sound in the whole world.

you guys reluctantly part ways, and as predicted, neither of you sleep a wink the whole night without each other.

tomorrow comes, and after he's all ready, he's shaking and fiddling with his cufflinks waiting for you to come out for the first look. and when he finally sees you walking towards him, he actually thinks his heart is going to explode.

you keep getting closer and your holding your breath but looking at nothing but him. and when you get closer his jaw actually goes slack.

"hi." you say softly and smile when his jaw is still dropped. you gently close it for him, and he melts a little

"hi. you look... wow... you're perfect." he manages to croak out, his voice suddenly stuck in his throat. you're always beautiful to him, but today, he swears he's seen an angel.

"i like your suit." you compliment and fix his bowtie for him hoping he can't see how your own hands are shaking. but he takes his hands and yours and looks at you for what feels like a long time until you realize he hasn't said anything. "what?"

"i love you." he blurts out. he barely realizes he's said it, but when he does his eyes widen and so do yours. he doesn't take it back tho. he just stares into your eyes and hopes you understand how much he really means it.

"you love me?" you whisper in disbelief. is this really happening?

"i love you. i'm in love with you." he confirms, trying to read your expression to see if you feel the same, if you're still going to go through with this wedding or if he's screwed it all up.

"i love you too. i'm in love with you too. " you admit quietly, feeling your mouth curve up into a smile.

he lets out a breath finally, and feels tears prick at his eyes and fall down his cheeks. you wipe them away.

"god, you have no idea how long i've wanted to say that." he rests his forehead against yours and pulls you close.

"great timing." you joke, putting your hands on his face. he laughs and you can feel his breath on your lips.

it feels like a weight has been lifted off both of your chests now that this is out in the open. suddenly you're both leaning in and your lips are inches away. he's cupping your jaw now, your eyes are locked on his. and when your guys' lips meet in a kiss for the first time in your entire lives, its soft and full of months of desire and unspoken feelings. it's reverent and its yours. he momentarily deepens the kiss, pulling you even closer if that's even possible, and you lose yourself in the passion before finally coming up for air. you're both grinning and out of breath but couldn't have asked for anything more.

and when you reach the end of the aisle a few short moments later, and he kisses you again, you both get to relish in the fact that this is real. that true love isn't dead and that the right person for them was right in front of them this entire time and will be for the rest of their lives.

i haven't written a fic in YEARS but i had a bad day today so #yea

[shieldedreams]

in the silence, my heart beats the loudest (m.m.)

summary ⇾ minho thinks he's pretty good at keeping his feelings at bay, but sometimes, the silence tends to challenge him details ⇾ 1,273 words / minho moon (xo, kitty) x gn!reader / 🌸 a bunch of soft feels / a sprinkle of curse words / the au where minho's absolutely (silently) whipped for someone (and kitty and q are somehow big shippers) notes ⇾ not me coming back just to write this but hey, i gave xo, kitty a shot and not surprisingly adoring minho ; w ;

a regular occurrence that no one no longer bats their eyes at is the way at any given point, minho could be found by your side despite the claim of i don't have any issues studying alone, as a matter of fact? sit on the other side, you're blocking the light. yet, somehow, minho's willing to give up the window seat he eyes when it's your bag and belongings that claims the seat.

today was no different.

minho finds himself well-acquainted with the seat next to you; almost too comfortably nudging your things aside to make room for himself. it makes you scoff–not out of annoyance–in amusement as you turn the cheek to raise your brow at him.

"well, hello to you too, then," minho jabs, quietly (because this is a library) but the sass in his tone is ever-present.

"there are plenty of seats available, mr. moon," you huff, placing a hand on one of your books to prevent him from putting his things down next to you just yet. he grabs the chair and leans down, squinting his eyes at you, "i don't believe i'm asking if i can sit here," he juts his chin towards the book you have captive, "i am sitting here."

minho hates–hates–how you lean closer towards him that it almost makes him lean back despite appreciating how close you are to him. it was your turn to narrow your eyes at him with the slight purse of your lips and how fucking adorable.

if there's anything that you can attribute minho to, it would be he doesn't back down without a fight. he challenges you by blowing the baby hairs on your forehead due to the close proximity, earning himself a chuckle from you.

"it'll be my treat when we get a snack break later, so please for the love of god, just move your shit."

and if there's anything–more than the many things–minho adores about you (but won't ever tell you just yet), it's the way you mirror his passion in a way that makes his heart swell.

"i get to choose the convenience store?" you're smiling so hard, it spills over in your words as you blink up to him.

minho sighs, "to your heart's desire, my love."

that earns him a gummy grin from you as your arm quite literally shoves everything aside to create the vast amount of space for him to settle in. "welcome in, mr. handsome."

even though minho rolls his eyes, he's trying to mask the smile that threatens to form on his lips when you giddily put your things away properly, scooting to the side a little to accommodate more space for him. he dislikes that you seem to be further away but when he actually sits down and feels you bumping shoulders with him, he's thankful that you give him space or it'll definitely feel like it's too hot in here.

he swallows thickly and settles in, shaking his nerves as he leans back in the seat, eyes carefully drifting over to you to see that you're taking the assignment pretty seriously. he begins to unload his bag, fishing out his laptop and a notebook. it's like you've read his mind (or memorised his patterns) when you mindlessly nudge your pencil case towards his direction despite having your eyes glued onto your book with a highlighter. a smile quirks onto his face as he murmurs a soft thanks, then grabbing a pen to fiddle with as he attempts to take a crack at the work he's assigned with.

the hands of time ticks away, the students begin to file out of the library as it nears the time for the next round of classes (except it doesn't concern either you or minho), which is why he hasn't bothered you from your little "break". quite the contrary, he lets you use his folded blazer as a place for you to rest your head to pillow between the table.

he normally doesn't condone this, but when he knows you've had a late night the night before, it was almost too easy for him to make the decision to pull his folded blazer out for you to–well, goodnight, y/n. he smiles to himself when he sees how accustomed you are to closing your eyes and drifting away in slumber... with one of his hands held captive.

he has this fear... that some way, through the pulse of his fingertips you have in yours, that you can feel how hard his heart is pounding in his chest. how you can render him to feel the whole damn zoo bubbling from within without saying anything at all. he bites down on his tongue to offer himself a sort of relief, even when he knows it's useless. all he does is sigh as he rests his chin in his palm, pretending like it's no big deal as he continues to stare at his laptop... when in fact, everything turns into a blur as his eyes trail down to the keyboard, occasionally glancing over to you with the smile he continuously tries to hide.

he fears that one day, his fear would surface as a weakness instead. that it'll take you away from him. break from this little reverie of happiness he has.

but for now... with the soft glow of the sunlight casted over your features as you peacefully take intakes of air, cheek pressed to his blazer, hand gently holding onto his (because now he had duties as your human alarm clock)... minho allowed himself to have this little piece of heaven.

((minho regrets looking up when he hears his name being whispered in the quiet of the library. he meets with two familiar pair of eyes that makes him scowl. did y/n come here to nap? q mouths, followed by kitty's half-whisper, half-squeal as she whips out her phone, trying to hide the biggest grin on her face as she captures the moment. and are you here to accompany them? q mouths again, only to get nothing in response from minho apart from his glare. "woah, tough crowd," kitty grabs q by the arm, dragging the both of them out of the situation. it's only a couple of beats before kitty half-yells, "check your phone later, minho!" before minho can respond, he's more worried about you waking up that he turns to look at you. he sighs as you remain resting peacefully, keeping one of his hands captive with a small smile to your face. (unknowingly, it makes the boy smile, too) // the vibration against minho's thigh makes him pull out his phone with his free hand. he gulps before he taps on the unread message from kitty. upon clicking on [download] to view the image, minho has to suck the insides of his cheek to stop himself from smiling when he sees it's the view from q and kitty a couple of steps away from where he's sat with you. his hand in yours, your head resting on his blazer, the sunlight glow casting the outline on both of your silhouette and... the softness in his own eyes as they're locked onto you. he tries not to indulge too much, tapping out of the photo to text: you better keep this to yourself, covey [3:32pm] (read) my lips (and hands) are sealed 🤐 [3:33pm] minho is about to text a thank you, but finds himself cursing under his breath when the next text from kitty makes him– for now, at least ;) [3:33pm] but when you're squeezing his hand, unconscious and sitting next to him... he'll ignore it and pretend like everything is okay. for now, everything is at ease and peaceful and sometimes, he'd rather keep things this way if it meant security in having you beside him.))

[vaaaaaiolet]

Your writing is so superb , but I would appreciate it if you could recommend other Leon Kennedy fan fiction blogs you think are as superb as your work.💛

AWWW GOSH 😭 you're too sweet :)

what i CAN do for you is recommend some very fantastic authors (in no particular order) who i look up to immensely 🫶 and rest assured they're far more skilled than i am so you'll def find a new fic to love in their masterlists!!

please be respectful when perusing their work and don't bother them with asks to write leon fic bc many of them have moved to other fandoms :) and mind their dnis!!

@miss-oranje-disco-dancer (masterlist):

never penelope, always calypso haunts me enough that i've written shitty poetry to cope about it in my SPARE TIME, liz's angst is that good. her writing packs a sucker punch every time without mincing words and her attention to detail never misses!!!

@uhlunaro (resi masterlist):

a tale of grief in ten parts is literally what made me start writing. leon's (hell, every resi character's) characterization is FLAWLESS in ro's fics. using my full chest to say i've cried to their writing multiple times yeah what about it🧍‍♀️

@crsssie (leon masterlist):

nobody does a delicious back-and-forth dialogue like cressie :3 you'll either be crying of laughter or punching your screen wishing it was leon (in the best way). that racer leon au you've been seeing? she pretty much invented it. and in 20k words no less.

@sweeterthanficstion (masterlist):

if you've ever wanted to taste sunshine in writing form, YOU'VE FOUND YOUR GIRL!! with her soothing flow and fairytale prose, amber's writing always has me blushing and crushing like the first time i laid eyes on leon <3

@inkonparchment (masterlist):

ink is leonblr's classics author and we are spoiled BADDD with her writing!! her leon is just as - if not more - charming as a jane austen male lead. give class of '95 (or any of her fics) a read and invest in a fainting couch for when you swoon ;)

@byexbyez (masterlist in pinned):

ronnie writes like a freaking renaissance painter. you WILL feel everything with all 5 senses in her prose. i found her through love me more in '23 and it STUCK WITH ME until '24 when she finished it like a NOVEL in both length and quality. she's that good.

@mandalhoerian (resi masterlist):

HOOOOO BOY. you know the "hide them from mappa" meme. apply that to shai but with publishers bc her prose deserves to be BOUND IN GOLD AND LEATHER and WE OUGHT TO PAY TO READ IT. come prepared with kleenex. trust me.

@comatosebunny09 (masterlist):

some of the DREAMIEST writing i’ve ever read. i highly rec lighting candles and going over her leon musings as self care bc YOU DESERVE IT. more often than not i read bunny’s work only to end up taking notes 😭

@uncouth-the-fifth (resi masterlist):

she is MAGIC!! user uncouth's prose reads like MOVIE SCENES i'm not kidding. please give her leon works a go bc they far surpass mine in their worldbuilding, narrative voice, and just in general. her leon is so very real and dear to my heart <3

[8ysharkstar]

Hey, can I requested the Beasts x yanderer!reader? All the five Beasts in one fic, how greedy I am~ My ideal is that reader is also a fallen hero with the Beasts and of course they are corrupted and join theirs lovers to wreaking havoc over earthbread, when the witch steal the Beasts. Reader is the only one who espaced and many years like what happens in the orginal story, when everyone think the seal is recover, reader slash the tree and help Shadow Milk get out in front of everyone and reveal that they're the six virtues who espaced many years ago... I let you continue here -_- because stuck for ideas you know:))))Hope you receive it and have fun writing it:))) I don't know if it too hard for you but hope you won't mind my greedy:'))) Sorry for bad english:))))

[ This is gonna take a while but sure!! ]

( 5 Beast Cookies x Yandere!Reader )

" if I were a beast, I'd never eat your brain! I just want your heart "

TW! Yandere theme, Obsession, plus spoilers of beast yeast 1-2,

! Yandere

> not that accurate lore?

Rcm Song; The Zombie Song | Stephanie

☆;

Passion, what could that be. Love? Strong love, Love is always in the air, I myself find my colleagues somewhat, my type... Something about them just makes me go CRAZY! My passion for them is on top of my limit! His knowledge to give, her happiness to spread, they're change and solitary to show, her dreams to fulfill theirs. I just want to.. keep them to myself, but I must keep educating my students on how to grow love to others, keep myself sane... But I felt like a need to protect them... Keep them away from other people... I just want them FOR MYSELF.

...

Leverage; ...

Those were the last words before I got myself corrupted. It was difficult to keep myself sane on most of the time, this time I broke myself. How sad? Well atleast my colleagues are the same as my kind.

I've caused havoc many eons ago, I gave them misinformation, causing them into believing and yet it shows that they're just some foolish cookies that could easily be manipulated. Cute isn't it? yet I was sealed in a silver tree. A TREE? BY THE WITCHES, But I was able to get myself out, those pests tried to seal it back, but I was able to trick those little pests, what a foolish one, to think that I was sealed away. I was not able to save my colleagues in time, I found a way but...

I found someone that shadow milk has been talking about the past time we've been trapped in the silver tree. Someone named pure vanilla cookie? Say, I might've found him in beast yeast, roaming around with his little friends, how cute? Maybe I can join in the fun to get them lured, especially HIM.

"I'll take this taken care of silverbell, well hello there the friends of white lily cookie! Welcome to the faerie kingdom, I'm margarine faerie cookie! How may I assist?"

The other seems happy to see other "faeries* talking to them, they seemed... Delighted.

"it is an honor for you to help! May you please show the way on where white lily could be"

Hearing they're voice itself feels like like a fork piercing through me. But all seriousness, really.. white lily cookie? Well, anything to get them on their tails.

As we got to white lily, it's a matter of time silver bell sent them to elder faerie, so I could think of a plan on how to lure them. Maybe if I cut the seal, which caused it to open the tree. Maybe they'll try to seal it back, my predictions to lure them, genius, I know I am!

...

Slashing it open causes everyone to get alerted by the open wounded tree. How convenient? It wasn't me, I could never! Someone else did it.

...

They are all there, it's time!

[ ! ]

The wound gotten bigger from an unrecognizable entity, could it be?

SHADOW MILK COOKIE!

He used to be know as Knowledge but now to change to Deceit, I myself, Passion to leverage? How cruel I could be to trick them into believing!

May these little foolish crumble to BITS.

We toyed with our puppets, let one die, I say it's pretty intertaning for both of us!

But both of us caught up to the fact that she was able to seal both of us back to our place. Unfair? Pretty unfair, should've been US. But atleast, I'm with my lovers again!

"say, we tried our best, but we'll get them back. And maybe we could be more than colleagues? Would do you say, my spouse's. Could we try Again, new body, physical form. Someone by the name dark enchantress could help."

Oh how much I just want them for myself, I wish we can't never seperate EVER.

THIS ONE GOT ME THINKING SO MUCH SNIXNQBZ, Anyways

[daenysx]

can I humbly make another request for the starry girl sleepover? 🥺🌷 3AM with Tangerine and some hurt/comfort — him coming wounded from a mission and his gf helping to patch him up.❤️

you can make as many requests as you want, my angel, i love writing them all!! thank you for being here with me <333333

3.00 AM | TANGERINE

"Hey, love," Tangerine stands by the door. "How are you?"

"What-" your lips open up in shock. "You're asking me how i am when you look like this?"

He puts a fake dramatic hand on his chest. "You don't think I look handsome anymore?"

He's all covered in blood, a cut on his eyebrow and a scarred lip. He looks handsome, but you're not gonna tell him that. It always goes on like this, he's trying to undermine his pain to stop you from worrying.

"Come in," you extend a hand to him, inviting him into your apartment. "To the bathroom."

He listens to you. Slow steps, as if he's afraid of ruining the comfort of this place. He sits on his usual stool, bathroom lights are low, but clear enough for you to see his scars.

"You need to take your shirt off," you say softly. His eyes are cold blue, blood dripping from his eyebrow. You know your eyes are wide as you take in his scars. He reaches to hold your hand.

"It doesn't hurt," he says. "You know I'm made for worse things than this, don't you?"

You shrug, you don't like it, but you feel helpless. He's supposed to be yours, that's what he tells you every time he kisses you, so why does everyone hurt him? His fingers squeeze yours. You try to smile.

"You can always kiss them better, huh?" he murmurs. Teasing, but he knows how you feel about this. He knows everything.

"Take your shirt off," you tell him again, softer this time. "Your pants, too."

He doesn't say anything as he does what you say. Bloody clothes find their places on your bathroom floor. Tangerine sits again with a quiet groan. He can take it. He can take worse.

"I'm gonna clean your face," you say. "I don't think you need stitches."

He nods. You start cleaning his cheek. He follows you with his eyes, your gentle fingers take their time as you turn him into his usual self.

"Tell me if it hurts."

"It doesn't, love," he whispers. "You never hurt me."

He holds your waist with big hands, pulling you closer. You settle down on his thigh as you keep cleaning his face, his fingers draw shaky circles on your back. This is very nice, being this close to him. You can still smell his favorite cologne, faint but familiar even with all the blood.

"Close your eyes, handsome."

"Handsome, huh?"

"Yes," you smile. "You're getting very clean and very handsome."

His gaze lingers on your face. He tries to keep his lovesick smile to himself, but he's just a man. A poor man with bloody hands and a tainted heart. You do a good job with his face, he knows. It must be clean enough to brush a kiss on your lips.

"You're distracting me," you whisper before kissing him again. He can count your eyelashes this close, you're so pretty under this light, so sweet on him. He cups your cheeks gently to deepen the kiss, you follow his lead. Tangerine finally finds some peace in the middle of the night, sitting with you in your tiny bathroom. He'd never give up on these moments even if it means he'll have scars on his body.

starry girl sleepover ☆

[katareyoudrilling]

The Sweepstakes: Javi Gutierrez Epilogue (Porn Star AU)

Series:  The Sweepstakes

Pairing: Porn star Javi Gutierrez x Female Reader

Summary: You are getting dressed up a year after your night with Javi

Word count: 637

Rating: Explicit (18+ only. NO MINORS)

Content Warnings: Healing from negative body image, mentions of past sexual encounter, reader is a full figured gal, but has no other physical descriptions

A/N: If you haven’t read The Sweepstakes: Javi Gutierrez yet, go read it first! I always knew this would be their epilogue, I don’t know why it took me so long to write it! I hope you enjoy!  Spanish translations are at the end, but everything should be able to be understood in line. Big thanks to @burntheedges for the beta!

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

Series Masterlist

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“Are you getting dressed?”

Javi’s deep voice rumbles in your ear.

“Yeah.”

“What are you wearing?”

“The black one.”

Javi groans.  “Your tits look amazing in that one.  Muéstrame. Let me see.”

You add video to the call as you check yourself out in your full-length mirror.  You have to agree with Javi, the woman looking back at you looks pretty amazing. 

What a change from this time last year.  Your mirror is much less of an enemy these days.

Your negative body image isn’t something you could change overnight.  Even if the night in question was the most amazing one you’ve ever had.  You think back on that night with Javi often.  The way Javi looked at you with lust and desire in his eyes and the confidence it gave you to let go.

You’ve even watched it a few times.  You didn’t want to be filmed initially, but Javi convinced you to try.  He bent you into positions you didn’t know you were capable of and found realms of pleasure you hadn’t discovered on your own, and most definitely not with a partner.  You lost count of how many times he made you come.

The video was difficult to watch at first.  You squinted through your fingers and could only let it play for a minute or two.  But gradually, it got easier.

You practiced looking at yourself in the mirror.  Javi would whisper in your ear while you looked at your naked body.  He helped you see the beauty in your roundness and rolls until you started to see it yourself.

Now you run your hands over your curves with affection and don’t need a gorgeous man to tell you what to appreciate… but you still like it sometimes.

Javi fills your phone screen with his golden skin, warm brown eyes, and sunshine smile.

“Hola, bonita. Show me this dress.”

You angle the camera down to show the deep V at the front of your dress, your cleavage on full display, and the high slit up your thigh.

“Deliciosa,” he murmurs.  “Do you think it is tonight?”

You nod and bite your lip as your cheeks heat.  You’ve been dating Joel for a little while now.  Your connection was immediate.  There was just something about his soulful brown eyes that drew you in.

“Is he good enough for you?”

“You know he is, Javi.”

Javi’s protectiveness of you warms your heart.  You’ve told Javi about all your dates over the last year.  He has become your best friend and confidant.

You haven’t had sex with anyone since him, focusing instead on how you feel about yourself, so you’d be ready when the right man came along.  You wanted to be able to fully embrace that side of yourself when the time came.

Then you met Joel.

Charming, gentlemanly, competent Joel… you shiver with anticipation.

You know he is the right man.  Tonight may just be the right night.

“You’re glowing, bonita.” Javi interrupts your reverie. “I am so happy for you!”

Javi’s smile lights up the screen and you smile back.  “Thank you, Javi.  For everything.”

“De nada, but it was you all along.  I just get to enjoy.  I hope that this will not end, but I will understand if it does.”

Javi’s puppy dog eyes fill the screen.  Thankfully, you can console him.  “Joel knows about you.  I think you’ll be great friends.”

“Bueno! I am so glad! I know this is maybe unusual.”

“Maybe, but I don’t care.”

Just then, your doorbell chimes. “Oh! He’s here!”

“Ve! Go!”

“Bye, Javi! I love you!”

“Te quiero tambien! Call me tomorrow.” Javi smooches the camera and hangs up.

You check your dress and make-up one last time in the mirror, grab your bag, and open the door to the man of your dreams.

- - - - - - - - - - - - 

A/N: Did Joel surprise you???? He surprised me!!! Am I even capable of writing something without a cameo? Lololol

Spanish translations: Muéstrame - show me Hola, bonita - hello, beautiful Deliciosa - delicious De nada - you're welcome Ve! - Go! Te quiero también - I love you too

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Javi Gutierrez Masterlist

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[libraford]

Ok. It's day 2 of recovery from my hysterectomy so I thought I'd tell yall about it.

It sucks. Ooooh lord am I in a lot of pain. But the pain is predictable, unlike menstrual clots the size of my fist.

A bunch of yall are interested in getting a hysterectomy for yourselves. I think every experience is somewhat unique, but here's what happened to me.

You will get phone calls from billing. You do not have to pay over the phone. But they will ask your demographic information and contact info for anyone that's going to be in the waiting room.

You are not allowed to eat or drink after midnight prior to your surgery. This includes water. Plan to wear loose clothing- I wore a tank dress and drawstring pants.

You will not be able to drive. Someone needs to drive you to and from the hospital. If your surgery is at 7:30, they want you there at 5:30. They will ask you your demographic information again. They will give you a big sheet of stickers with your name on it. The staff will trade these around and put them on everything related to you. You get a bracelet with your sticker on it.

Once you're at intake, expect the usual medical stuff. They will take weight, height, urine sample, blood sample, blood pressure, check you're heart and lungs. You will put all your clothes and shoes in a bag with your name on it. I left my phone and wallet with my girlfriend. You will get into an uncomfortable hospital gown. They will hook you up to an IV.

And then you will wait. For a fuckin long ass time. In this time, you will be visited by three doctors- your RN, your anesthesiologist, and your surgeon. You may also be visited by various interns, which makes you wonder just how many people are here to gawk at your fibroid. You are allowed to have a visitor.

You will eavesdrop on conversations happening outside your prep room. You have no choice in this.

Your surgeon will arrive and hand you a waiver basically saying 'I give you permission to cut into me with lasers.' You've signed this before, but now they are making sure. My operation was supposed to be laparoscopic (removed through the vagina) but I was informed that if the fibroid is bigger than they expected, they may make incisions near the bikini line or near the bellybutton. I gave them permission to do what they needed to do this safely.

Then your anesthesiologist comes back, puts something in your IV, it feels cold, and pulls up the bars on you bed to wheel you into the operation room. You are greeted by every person that came by your prep room.

I konked out when they put the oxygen mask on.

And then I woke up.

It was supposed to be only 2 hours, but I woke up 4 hours later in a separate room. Brand new nurse, checks your vitals, gives you some reassuring words, and then instructs you to, at your own pace, get up and move to a wheelchair. It's fucking freezing in this room.

You have zero core strength right now. Getting up is the hardest shit ever. She instructed me to take a half breath in, sit up on the slow outbreath, and then do it again while standing, then again to sit back down again.

They wheel you into a waiting room and call your family in. I had a burning desire to tell my girlfriend she's intensely beautiful.

My skin had a reaction to the hair net they had on me, so I have a rash on my face. They put a catheter in your throat to help with breathing, which gave me a sore throat, but I think they also gave me a cut in the back of my throat, which is annoying because it's affecting things like swallowing and drainage.

It was supposed to be three incisions. It's actually five. My girlfriend tells me that my surgeon indicated that the fibroid was the size of a cantaloupe, rather than the original suspected size of a grapefruit and now I want a fruit salad.

Once you are settled, the nurse will try to get you to stand again and she will try to get you to use the bathroom to check your stool.

Once that's cleared, she'll hand you your clothes and you can slowly get dressed. Do not rush this, pants are hard.

I sent my parents to get my meds and my girlfriend to get the car.

Nurse wheels me out to the curb, one two three half-breath, breathe out, stand, get in the car and go.

They gave me ibuprofen, Tylenol, and oxycontin. I'm told to take the oxy at night so it knocks me out, and switch pills every six hours. Oxy will make you constipated, they gave me miralax. You can eat whatever you want, but oxy does reduce your appetite.

When it comes to recovery, oh God does it hurt. You will have vaginal bleeding but it's not very much, at least compared to my typical period and there was no blood the next day.

You are encouraged to rest, but not to be in bed the whole time, so find some things to do while sitting upright. When you're in bed, make sure your head and back are supported. It's hard as fuck to go from laying down to sitting up if you need to go to the bathroom.

In preparation for having zero core strength for awhile, I bought a walking cane and a walker. The walker is for helping me lower down to the toilet.

But I'm on day 2 of recovery and I'm feeling better than I was yesterday. I can already feel a difference in my bladder control now that I don't have the fibroid pressing down on it.

Looking forward to feeling normal again.

[mcytegg]

I LOVE THIS SMMMMM IM EATING ALL OF UR IDEAS DERWW.......TYSM FOR SHARING THIS IM VERY HAPPY TO LISTEN TO UR YAPS ^-^ i know this is a bit . of a late response and i am so sorry LOL i was typing a lil reply and i forgot for. 2 weeks. but ive been Rotating ur ideas in my head lots :D ill be njce and put my yaps under the cut bc as expected i say The Absolute Most always

oh my GODDDD i didnt even THINK abt how fucked it is for zam for jumper of all people to be soulbound to His Poafa. like one of the few people zam holds a deeprooted resentment for and one of the people zam genuinely Cannot handle ever losing. and to rub salt in the wound, his own soulmate is someone he does care abt. but who he cannot trust w how much 4c hides from him. i actually feel like 4c's secrets would frustrate him even more when they become soulmates bc he is in a position where hes reminded of his own attachment to 4c, and the resentment that comes w it bc of 4cs refusal to be upfront w him bc he would be More fine w 4cs inability to be by his side if he knew WHY. but 4c cant tell him. wont tell him so its like.....itll def be the same even as soulmates so i feel like they def have that underlying tension LOL

MAPICC AND SUBZ.....yeah omg i agree bc i feel like in Theory they could be arguably one of if not the strongest soulmate pair w how skilled in pvp they both are but subz's apathy and lack of care would definitely demotivate mapicc so theyd both just kinda. not do much together? like they dont officially ever split but the extent of their relationship is respecting each others self sufficiency and strength enough to expect the other to Not Die. like they do very much just do their own thing and hang out w other people for the most part in my mind yk? id imagine mapicc does just spend more time w other people for the duration of the event and sometimes subz is there. itd be Fun if they fought but idt anyone would be dumb enough to fight a mape and a subz @_@

derap and flame.....they fucking cooked oh my god LMFAO like im sorry but i cant imagine them having a good relationship at any point. even w flame trying to stick close to derap so he doesnt qd as fast, i feel like theyll fight a lot. i can def see derap being the type to taking like 15 hearts of dmg at once just to scare flame just bc he knows flame cant kill him ToT. its funny bc flame & derap and mane & wemmbu being paired is basically recreating bfb minus pentar, so derap and wemmbu would theoretically be safe if wemmbu didnt decide to kill himself to troll/spite mane bc u are right like i can Absolutely see him doing that and itd cause just. so many issues. but like it is incredibly funny LMFAO

MINUTE AND PLANET....as long as they stay Away from dangerous places like spawn i can see them surviving pretty well too ^-^ i can actually see mapicc kinda being their protector bc like. well. planet and minute are there but assuming bacon will stick closer to them as well since planet is Playing The Server and at more risk than usual— thats three people mapicc likes a lot for him to play the server w!! tho i do think he does just hover around like minute, zam, or ro whenever bc as i mentioned before subz's apathy would probably make him feel like....not rly wanted or needed. esp bc subz is already fully capable and fine doing everything on his own

okay but lowk e and clown nd like rek and spoke would probably actually be the strongest/healthiest soulmates based on team chemistry And bc they dont have any past Issues that get in their way. i mean sure, e and clown did duel for immortality but im p sure they still have a good relationship from what ive heard from others? so i can Absolutely see either of them winning LOL. like it might even be a case of clown and e being in the lead w kab and pentar heavily supporting nd helping them at every turn only for spoke and rek to swipe the victory at the last moment LOL. bc ur Absolutely right like w how tricky both lf them can be, theyd Find A Way to sneak the win w some elaborate plan. stickler-empire alliance saying strong frfr.......

im also kinda obsessed w how woogie & jaron nd pangi & jepexx are both pairs on the Opposite sides of the "its so over" spectrum. like woogie nd jaron recognize they arent winning and get silly w it while pangi starts planning his own funeral immediately 😭😭😭 i can actually Hear in pangis voice how agonized he would be upon finding out his soulmate is jepexx LOL

ro and ash being the ones who start some fuckass sideplot Absolutely tracks tbh, and obviously i support them ^-^ tho i absolutely think theyd get their asses handed to them bc ro is a lil 6 heart chungus and theyre both washed at pvp /lh /aff 🫶🫶 tho i do Fully believe theyd get at least like.....some kills :D

lifesteal double life au ^-^ !! basically what it says on the tin:

i put all of the lsers into a randomizer wheel and paired them off. in my mind its kind of just a one off event that takes place during s6, its like its own little arc that goes for at least two weeks, possibly a bit longer tho!!! and i have removed certain players simply bc i cannot realistically imagine them logging in even for day 1 of the event LMFAO.

ls mechanics are the same— you kill you (and ur soulmate) gain a heart, you die and you (and ur soulmate) lose a heart. ADDITIONALLY, i heavily fw the idea that if ur soulmate is banned, you Also get banned ^-^ even if ur on 20, your hearts simply drop on the ground after u die if ur banned bc it makes things ✨️interesting✨️ tho thats all i have so if anyone has any other ideas or disagrees w me then pls feel free to tell me all abt it bc im just saying shit LOL

anyways! soulmates will be under the cut :D

[the people who have been excluded are leo, mrcube, redd, spep, terry, and vortex @_@ im sorry to fans of them i just can nawt imagine them participating for even a day]

and. dear fucking LORD do we have some crazy match ups oh my god?? 😭😭 the balancing is fucking insane bc to me hearts are NOT given or taken away for any sort of balancing purposes, they have what they had before the event started yk? so soulmates taking care of each other and communicating is even MORE important than anything

and like theoretically people are still in the teams they had before the event, theres technically no rules saying u Need to dedicate urself to your soulmate but considering the type of server ls is, keeping ur soulmate close to u is very likely life or death. like esp for a pair like say...planet and minute bc anyone who has a bone to pick w minute could so easily farm a planetlord over it nd ban them both from the server so being able to protect ur soulmate is just as important as staying safe yourself yk?

its crazy bc u have teams that are definitely just fucking cooked like planet & minute (current 7 heart chungus) or like pangi & jepexx, but u also have teams that are hella fucking cracked in Theory like mapicc & subz bc theyre both cracked at pvp but i actually just dont know how well theyd work as a pair or if theyd EVEN work together or if theyd just do their own thing and expect the other to not die LMFAO.

like, its just so interesting to think abt soulmate dynamics and how this event would affect each preexisting teams. how loyal people would feel towards their soulmates & whether this would change things after the event in regards to Team loyalty and who would grow attached to their soulmates after the fact......or who would hate their soulmates, and who would become enemies bc of this event LOL

[hannahssimblr]

It is by coincidence, not intention, I join the meditators. The sign, soul healing meditation, only happened to invite me down a pathway, shaded, winding through the banyans. I followed it to escape sun that beat so intensely into my head I thought I’d faint at the beach, and has me missing the downpour of Bangkok. It is not out of curiosity I followed the sign, for I’m not, and never have been, curious about spirituality or any vaguely mystical practices. It was a need to cool down. And now I have, actually.

The meditation studio is cool and shaded, the trickle of water from a fountain outside on the lawn, birdsong in the trees. The others shuffle around, get seated on the floor. They’re Buddhists, aren’t they? People who meditate? Well, I’m a protestant, and not even an acceptable one; unable to recite even one complete verse of The Holly and the Ivy at the Church of Ireland Christmas service by heart. I stay at the back of the room by the door, close enough to my shoes, beaten up white runners among a pile of leather sandals, in case someone will be able to tell by looking at me I shouldn’t be doing this. An imposter amongst them.

God, they move glacially, these people. Dyed silk scarves thrown across their chests, serene looks on their faces like they’re floating in the clouds. Nine others, a combined age of one thousand. These are the kinds of people I get trapped behind on the street when I’m running for the train, ambling along in groups, aimlessly gazing at the architecture. Or in the supermarket, not getting out of the way of the fridge, too busy contemplating different salamis to let me grab what I’ve already decided I want. Is it places like this, meditation retreats, where they learn to be so slow?

Ah, there he is, speaking now. The bald man with the interesting face. The guru, or whatever. Nobody has explained to me what I should call him, and I say guru, because of this rumour I heard about a lad from school. Did too many magic mushrooms and got obsessed with some spiritual bigwig in Costa Rica. Made him the lock screen on his phone. His guru, he says. Wears wooden beads around his neck and let his hair get all long allegedly. My hair’s all long now, too, actually. Maybe it’s fitting I’m here, finding my guru, too. This could be the beginning of a life changing, enriching kind of relationship. 

“Just breathe,” he’s saying. “Feel the breath as it enters. Let it soften you. Focus only on it, and let other thoughts go.”

Breathing is extremely easy for me. I just do it, like, there it is in my nose and all. Going into my lungs. I can feel that like I’m supposed to.

“Imagine you are a tree with roots deep in the earth, grounding you where you sit.”

Right, yeah. I can imagine I am a tree too if I want to. This is like drama in primary school, when the teacher put us into groups and had us pretend to be the four elements. “Jude, into the wind group,” she said, and I pretended to be a tornado until I accidentally knocked the drying art projects off the rack, getting wet paint on the side of my uniform. Insisting I did it on purpose, she sent me to the principal for a telling off. Years later, I’d feel bad for ruining the fun. I was like that; always getting too carried away with myself, taking the fun too far. Probably still am. 

“Watch the thoughts come and go like clouds. Try not to follow them.”

So what am I supposed to do, then? Just sit? Sit and breathe? I do sit, but soon the floor is uncomfortable. I shift, and the boards creak under my weight. There I am, making noises again, shifting around too much, my clothing the only clothing making any noise in a room of people, and by the way, there’s an itch on my eyebrow. What do I do about an itch? Scratch it, or mindfully observe it until it goes away? 

 A mosquito. My senses are fine-tuned to the presence of them now, three weeks in Southeast Asia having primed me for hypervigilance. Surely another person is bothered by the presence of a mosquito. It buzzes. If it bites me, can I open my eyes or move, or do I need to mindfully observe the biting?

Guru is still on the tree thing, I think, though I lost track of what he was saying. “...like the roots. In stillness, you are both grounded and free.”

I am meant to be thinking of the present moment, and I am thinking about mosquitoes. This wasn’t supposed to be hard. I shift again, in frustration this time, the discomfort secondary. I peel one eye open and peer at the others. All of them serene, hands in their laps, backs perfectly straight, their breath slow and even. Are they having some sort of experience I am exempt from? I think, annoyed, actually, at their engrossment in the process. This is it? All that meditation is, is breathing and sitting and thinking about how I’m doing just that? I expected something more, as much as I expected this to be simpler. I can’t sit for three seconds without my mind wandering. There it goes again. Wandering, thinking about itself wandering. Fuck sake.

I take a deep breath, shuddering with emotion, closed eyes twitching. Of all the skills to be bad at, I am bad at doing nothing. My life is a joke. I was good at school without wanting to be. Maths, even, a subject everyone automatically assumed I'd be shit at. Tutoring Jen back then, Pythagoras theorem and so on, all of it falling into place in my head without effort while she struggled to the point of tears. Art, brilliant. The way the tutors at college fawned over my pieces, saying things about how wonderful I am, what vision, what creativity, what skill. Extraordinary talent. And people. I excel. I wish I was confident like you are, they say, up in my face at the pub Fridays after school. You just know what to say to people, you know how to make them laugh. Funny boy, clever boy, lucky boy, so bloody gorgeous. You know I fancied you for ages, Jude, was too shy to say something. I shouldn’t be saying it, so drunk, but you’re beautiful. I’d say people tell you that all the time, don’t they? Dangerous beauty. When you look at me like that, I forget my own name. A natural leader, you are, man. You just say what you want and everyone runs to give it to you. You’d do serious damage with that personality if you wanted to. Could lead people astray. Cult leader, Turner, that’s you! Ha!

“...Continue following the breath. Now, let it flow through your arms. From your shoulders to the tips of your fingers.”

No. Sorry, no. I can't. I untangle my legs from underneath me and get up. Loud, obnoxious creaks on the floorboards which no one reacts to. The guru’s eyes remain closed and his lined face tranquil, likely treating the disruption like a passing cloud, as my stockinged feet pound across the floor to retrieve my shoes. The pile of leather Jesus sandals topples, while I smash my feet into my old runners and yank the laces into submission. I am noisy, not just now, but intrinsically, shamefully. Even the way I open the door, which squeaks on metal hinges, swishes and bangs shut behind me, reverberating through the hallway.

I pass the sign, the arrow in the opposite direction. Face hot, teeth clenched. Meditation hour, it says. It has been seven minutes. 

“Did you ever go to the mindfulness session?” Jonas says later, lying in the bunk above me, triumphant since eating a banana and not vomiting it back up. 

“Yeah, actually,” I say. “It was shit, though. Not going again.”

“Thought so.”

“What do you mean?”

“Hm.” Outside, the night is alive with crickets and insects that hit against the mosquito nets in pursuit of our light. “I guess you would struggle with meditation.”

“Well, no, because I struggle with nothing.”

A sleepy chuckle. “Okay.”

Too hot. I kick the covers to the end of the bed. “I can do anything I want.”

“Whatever your ego needs to believe, but nobody is good at everything.”

I grunt. 

“Does it bother you to hear this? Or do you not believe it?”

“Actually, I’m too tired to talk, Jonas. Go to sleep.”

And he does. The bed jitters as he rolls onto his side and drifts off, soon snoring contentedly while I stare at the slats above me. Think of the present moment, Jude, go on. Think of your breath. The way the bed feels. The lumps inside the mattress, and the existence of your little toe.

But fifteen seconds of trying, and I am a thousand miles away again, thinking of everything and everyone instead. Sleeping, eventually, only to escape the racket in my head. A horrible meditator. Useless. Good at everything, it seems, but the simplest thing in the world.

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