#I got strips and made a sandwich at home | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

madelynraemunson · 1 year ago

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CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(Book 1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club)

(strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove! reader)

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ MINORS DNI

006: The Eddie Special

Rent is paid, food is on the table, and Max finally has a YMCA membership! All because of you. But just when you think you've got your two lives under control, Robin and Vicky show up to Hellfire for date night — and see you dancing center stage.

* = somewhat smut

** = smut

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014**, 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020*

word count: 5.2k words

warnings — eddie being an asshole again but also very sweet, mutual pining, angst, yearning, profanities, power imbalance, double standards, smoking, alcohol, sexual harassment, health issues/disparities, trauma, pedophilia, incest, name-calling

“A compromise would surely help the situation.”

��

“Hey, stranger.”

Robin flashes you a “good morning” smile as you’re washing the dishes. Scooting to the side, you continue to scrub as she leans against the sink with her back, munching away at her breakfast sandwich that Vicky had prepped for her the night before.

“Morning,” you grin in return.

“Funny,” she says. “We live under the same roof now but our friendship still feels long distance.”

“Sorry… ” you frown. “Work’s just been a lot.”

So is living a double life. To shake off the guilt that constantly gnawed at you, you dry your hands and proceed to make yourself some coffee. When you scan the fridge, the only creamer you can get your hands on is...

Hazelnut. Just your luck.

There’s a tinge in your chest as you dunk it into your mug. You stir aggressively. Robin notices how tense you are and walks over to you.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, my guy,” she says as she pats you on the back. “Healthcare is tough. I dated a travel nurse once and that poor woman had back problems for days.”

“Such a physically and emotionally taxing job,” Vicky adds as she emerges from their room. “I don’t know how you do it, Hargrove.”

“Good morning, baby.”

“Good morning, sweetheart.”

Smooch.

You chuckle to yourself as you sip your Eddie-coded coffee.

“Yeah. I don't know how I do it either…”

The wooden stairs creek and crack as a pair of Vans stomp against them. Max is awake. This morning is an exciting one. After many, many overtime shifts at Hellfire, you've accumulated enough tip money to pay for Max's membership for 12 months. On top of that, rent had already been paid so you had a hefty cushion leftover for leisurely expenses.

You can hardly contain yourself. Seeing the surprised look on your sister's face is sure to be the highlight of your morning.

Max stares at you in shock when she sees you in the kitchen.

“Whoa,” she says. “She’s awake.”

You only ever see Max in passing when she comes home from the skate park. And that's right when you leave for work. From what she tells you she hasn't made many friends, but her main priorities right now are her hobbies and preparing herself for college classes in the Fall. Sometimes Max will tag along with Robin and Vicky to run errands, but you can tell she misses spending time with, and seeing, her sister.

“Shocker, right?” you sigh. “Thought I'd catch you before you head out.”

With your hands behind your back, you stride over to Max to give her her well-earned gift.

“What’s this?” she wonders.

“Your ticket to the Y,” you explain. “A band and a quarter, should last you a year.”

"Whoa!" Vicky exclaims.

"Holy shit! Look at that!" Robin cheers.

Max's eyes widen as she takes the money from you. “ $1200?! What bank did you have to rob to get $1200?”

“No bank,” you shake your head as Max counts all of the Benjamins. “Just the pockets of old, retired folk.”

You grin from ear to ear as you watch Max get bombarded with hugs that she is reluctant to accept, but does regardless. Vicky and Robin hoot and holler and squeal and cheer, reaffirming to Max that she deserves it the most.

“You’re really giving the elderly a run for their money,” Max says as the celebration comes to an end.

You watch in amusement as Vicky and Robin take turns counting Max's money.

“Yeah well it’s the least they can do for me,” you sigh. “My body feels like it’s aged 10 years.”

Max excuses herself from your roommates and throws herself onto you this time. You do your best not to cry. You've really missed her hugs.

“Thank you,” she says. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

Seeing how happy your sister is makes all your struggles worth it. Anything for Maxine.

———— 🔥 ————

“I don’t know who you think I am, but I don’t really give a damn right now.”

The past couple of weeks at Hellfire have been nothing short of awkward.

Eddie only really comes to you when he needs something, which — now that you've taken off those rose-tinted glasses — pretty much fits the bill of who he is as a person.

But he still lingers. For example, when you and Chrissy go on breaks together, there is always something for Eddie to do in close proximity. Table needs wiping? Eddie is there. Aisle needs sweeping? Mike, go help in the back. When you're dancing on customers, Eddie comes out from doing paperwork in his den to greet the regulars. And whenever you would turn to look at what Eddie’s doing, his gaze is already fixed on you and what you’re doing.

Like cat and mouse. But of course, he does it with all his dancers. Right?

A part of you wants to confront Eddie and his behavior, but before you even can he's out the back door to go on a "smoke break" with Argyle after closing, which usually is a short jump to him leaving. So you try to act unbothered by it by staying just a while longer with Henry… just in case he does come back.

But Henry puts you to work when you stay. He typically has you make sure all doors are locked, all chairs are stacked, and that any stray garbage is thrown away. You two play music while you work alongside one another, talking shit about customers and about how every day is starting to look the same.

You’re aware of how you openly contradict yourself, saying the days all bleed into one another and how you miss your bed. Yet you’re still at Hellfire. Way past closing time. Henry for sure has caught on to your odd behavior, but he doesn’t seem to mind because he enjoys your company.

It’s like clockwork now, this ritual-slash-routine.

Today is different for some reason.

"Hey!" Eddie calls out. “Shy Girl!”

You’re alone eating in an isolated part of VECNA’S LAIR when Boss Man makes his way over to you.

You’re frozen in your spot as he approaches you…willingly. Although you could care a lot less about his presence, the gesture still causes you to sit up a little straighter and blot-dry any remnants of your food with your napkin.

Eddie sets down new laminated prints of his menu in front of you. Plop.

"New item on the menu,” he gloats, very amused with himself. “Waffle fries. What do you think?"

Annoyed, you huff.

"Sure."

Two weeks of barely uttering a sentence to one another. Two weeks of avoiding eye contact and possibly one ‘excuse me’. Two weeks of being a background character in Eddie’s life and his icy shoulder making sure you knew it.

Now you’re more than an extra today. Because today Eddie decides you’re something of value, and that just for today your input actually matters. It's pathetic. It all makes Steve and Nancy look like best friends.

Your eyes travel to his firm hands. His silver rings. You hate to admit that you miss how they felt against your skin, especially since your skin seemingly isn't the only one he grazes. I do this with all my dancers. Your hands ball into fists. How can someone be so okay with using someone the way Eddie did with you?

"So we'll do regular waffle fries and the crinkle cuts will be our sweet potato fries from now on,” he explains.

“Mhm.”

“And eventually,” Eddie booms dramatically. “We’ll introduce the concept of different types of fries. Cajun fries, cheese fries, chili cheese fries. Then we'll introduce new cuts like curly fries... wedges..."

Not a word from you.

"Then we’ll do animal style fries like how you Californians do it at In-N-Out. I’ll call it ‘The Eddie Special’. It’ll be amazing!”

"You call the shots, Eddie."

Like he always does.

Eddie finally gets the message. You watch as his shoulders droop as he surrenders.

"Are you okay?" he dares to ask perplexedly.

"Never better!" you exclaim.

You grab your finished meal and dart past him, not even bothering to pardon yourself when your shoulders brush his slightly. You hear Eddie exhale, super displeased as the taps he makes on the table with his fingers render themselves fast and impatient.

“You don’t wanna stay and chat?” your superior demands sharply.

“I have to clock back in,” you answer coldly. “Sorry.”

“K then,” Eddie quietly mutters, returning the energy.

You try to look busy, so you pull out your phone and pretend to check something. Luckily, a text message from Robin pops up for you to reply to.

ROBIN BUCKLEY ☀️🤍

Date night with Vicky tonight. Breakfast/lunch/dinner waiting for you in the fridge when you get home 😁

You smile.

You da bestest 🩷 thank u

Buzz.

ROBIN BUCKLEY ☀️🤍 loved “You da bestest 🩷 thank u”

“Hey, Hargrove?” Eddie calls out to you.

His voice sounds a lot softer and apologetic. With the optimism that your tactic worked, you spin around to face Eddie with eager eyes. Maybe today is the day things go back to normal again.

“Hm?”

“No going on your phone when you’re clocked in, k?”

A blow to the chest. Bitter and agitated, you shove your phone into the back pocket of your booty shorts. Yes sir, you mutter to yourself mentally.

After thanking you, Eddie struts to the kitchen, using his own phone to pull up Dio on Spotify. He and Argyle like to head-bang and fuck around in the kitchen when they’re together. Messing around is only okay if Eddie does it, you assume.

To make matters worse, Eddie then proceeds to use his stupid phone to send someone a text. You scoff at the irony. Fucking prick.

Another trigger of yours? Power imbalance and double standards.

Attempting to be drama-free, you ironically make your way over to Steve and Jonathan, who are posted up at POTIONS.

“Hey Shy Girl,” Jonathan nods.

"Hey Johnny," you greet him.

You turn to the literal love of your life.

“Sup, Steve.”

"Hey, Hargrove," Steve nods. "How'd you do on tips last night?"

"Stellar," you answer. "Fucking love Fridays."

You and Steve are still casually hooking up. But just as you predicted, things aren’t quite the same. The problem this week is that Steve is struggling to finish, and you start to feel discouraged and insecure when he softens up inside of you.

Steve always used to finish. Now when you look up at him his gaze is fixed on something else, his strokes are less enthusiastic, and he mistaked one of your kinks for someone else’s once. But you pretend not to notice. A part of you even feels like you deserve it.

Steve is struggling with the eye contact today. You kick at the floor, trying to find a way to make your presence relevant in this corner of Hellfire. Knowing very well what you’re doing, Steve holds up a French fry from his red picnic tray as a supportive gesture.

"Would you like some?"

You beam at him and open your mouth so he can feed you. Steve obliges.

“Thanks boo,” you say to him as you chew.

He blushes. “Welcome.”

“You guys are cute,” Jonathan smiles as he wipes his hands with a hand towel. “I gotta run to the restroom, you mind watching the bar for a bit, Hargrove?”

“Not at all,” you oblige. “I’ll be here. Eating Steve’s fries.”

“Great,” Jonathan says, excusing himself. Then he halts. “Oh! If you open the register, Eddie has something for you underneath. Code is 0-1-1.”

Eddie has something…for you?

You turn to Steve and he just shrugs. As if it weren’t already obvious, you and Eddie weren’t exactly on friendly terms. What could that man possibly have for you?

It’s a termination notice, you can feel it. Bracing yourself for the absolute worst, you punch the code in.

0 - 1 - 1.

CHA-CHING! The register pops open. You lift the till that housed the cash and coins to unveil a pile of cash joined together by a small paper clip. There is a tiny note that was written onto a ripped piece of paper.

You pick it up. This couldn’t be for you, you think. But the sloppy handwriting with a partially bleeding pen says otherwise.

‘Hargrove: $600 — YMCA MONEY’

----- ❤️‍🩹 -----

“She the devil, she a bad lil bitch, she a rebel.”

Tonight you’re doing private dances with customers and also doing tip rail. But you wish you were just doing tip rail 'cause tonight’s clients were ballsy.

One patron said you look like his daughter. But it’s okay because ‘she’s married and out of the house’. Another said you look like one of his students. But it's totally okay because he teaches at the community college, therefore almost every pupil there is ‘at least 18’. It still doesn’t make it any better. All you could think about is your 18 year old baby sister — someone’s daughter and someone’s someone — someone who will also be walking the halls of Hawkins Community College later this month.

This customer, however, takes the cake. After guiding his hand away multiple times during the lap dance, he always manages to find the straps of your bra again. Upon strike three, you lose all patience.

“Yo, can you not do that?” you hiss, your inner Cali dude coming out to play. “I moved your hand away many times.”

The man is almost appalled. “It’s a strip club, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but I strip on my terms.”

"I paid for your services," he spat. "So I'm sure I get to do what I want, hoe."

“Don’t call me that!”

“I'll call you what I want,” the customer insists. “It’s what you are anyways if you’re in this job right?”

He takes out another dollar and tucks it into one of your cups. You could only stare in shock. The audacity of this guy.

“Here,” he says degradingly. “Looks like you really need it. Now let me see those tits. Please.”

Anger consumes you. Whatever amount of the Neutral Wolf you had left in you has now melted away. The Big Bad Wolf is taking over now. You give the man a shove, hoisting yourself off his disgusting body.

"What the FUCK is your deal, bruh?" you bark, a piece of Billy coming out of you more than you intended. "You want a piece of me that badly, don't you?"

Your words cause a scene in the surrounding area. Not even phased by it, the patron decides to push you further.

“Easy, easy,” he rolls his eyes. “If it’s that much of an issue I’ll just take my money back.”

He yanks the dollar back from out of your bra. His knuckles just grazed your tits.

“What kinda strip club is this anyways? Theme is janky as fuck. The STRIPPERS don’t even strip. They’re RUDE, and they’re butt ugly. The owner should be ashamed. Oh and by the looks of it, you don’t have much tits to work with after all.”

“Pull up your shirt,” you quip. “I think I found ‘em.”

This poor man. He didn't know you're a Hargrove.

And soon you’re throwing shit. His money. Your shoes. Every curse word in the dictionary, both traditional and urban with the exception of a few. You’re seeing all red now, and you’re pretty sure if no one stopped you, you’d have ripped the guy’s head off.

“If I don’t have tits, why you trying to get at me?” you roar. “You like little boys or something, bitch?!”

“HENRY!” Eddie shouts.

You turn in the direction of Eddie’s voice. He had been watching. Through your furious, free-falling tears, you can see in his dark eyes, closed fists, and flared nostrils that he is angry as well.

“On it, boss!” Henry shouts as he scampers on over. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, asshole?”

The friendly bouncer swoops you off to the side and asserts himself between you both. Lucky for the guy, no dislocated limbs were in the cards today. All it took was another person with a penis to get this fool to back down. He tries to reason with Henry but it’s far too late. Henry’s already pushing him towards the door.

“I’ll be coming BACK to have my way with you,” the beast growls and spits. “Fucking SKANK!”

“I HOPE THE FUCK YOU DO, MOTHERFUCKER!” you challenge him. "I'll be right here waiting!”

A calloused hand lands on your lower back. Thinking it’s another customer, you turn aggressively, fist winded up. As quickly as you lunge, a large palm catches it mid-air.

It’s Eddie.

Worry washes over your boss’s face when you two lock eyes for the first time. After what seemed like an eternity. He looks at you with the utmost concern. You almost see a tear glistening in his eye. A portion of his hair falls over his face in attempts to conceal it.

"Are you okay?" Eddie asks again, genuinely.

You nod, gulping.

You aren't okay, that's the thing. Not when Eddie looks like that. And not when he's looking at you, like that. Suddenly, Hellfire melts away and you're back in his van, fighting back every urge to fall into him and his musky, pine aroma infused with nicotine, weed, and beer. Just like home. Eddie feels like home.

Papers beat rock. Slowly, Eddie lowers your fist with the palm he had draped over you. The pulsing music and blinding strobe lights trickle back into your system.

"It's okay if you aren't..." Eddie starts. “You know... alright.”

"Eddie," you stop him. "Please. I'm alright."

“That was a lot.”

“But it's nothing new to me.”

He studies you. Doesn’t speak for a while.

“It's true!” you insist, attempting to diffuse Eddie's concern. “It kinda reminded me of the frat parties in San Diego I used to go to. You know what I’m saying?”

You try to laugh. But Eddie doesn’t. Henry and some dancers come to check up on you, especially Chrissy, to ask if you're okay. They even try to start a petition to jump the guy. You repeat the very thing you've been saying since it happened — yes, you are okay — and thank them for their concern. Then it's back to you and Eddie the moment they all disperse.

"Want a break?" he offers.

You shake your head. Dancing it off would help more, actually. And besides, if his offer is just another attempt to get you alone in his car and fire you up only to extinguish it all again in one sitting, you'll pass.

"Wanna go on stage now then? Get a break from individual dances?"

You smile and nod. "I'd love that."

The night can only get better from here. Eddie offers you his hand and helps to hoist you onto the stage. The DJ announces your name, and you’re back in business, putting on your million dollar smile and batting your seductive, little lashes.

Your song comes on and you start to shake your ass. Lost in the trance of the song, you become one with the pole, climbing it and gliding along it, twirling from it, and hovering with it, twerking and spreading your legs whenever you saw fit. The audience revels in it.

It all feels so good. Yes you are being provocative, everybody and your brother's worst nightmare -- but you're the one in control. No one can ever take your body autonomy away from you. Never again. Not anymore.

You do a death drop to the floor and quickly ease into your splits. The crowd goes wild as you roll your hips to the song, allowing yourself to get showered by the dollar bills that were raining down on you like a storm.

To thank everyone for their overwhelming support, you spin yourself around to face the crowd. But your heart nearly stops.

“Oh my god,” you gasp aloud.

Nothing could ever prepare you for what... or who rather... you see in front of you.

“Oh…my god,” Robin repeats, face sheet-white like a ghost.

Vicky is right beside her with the same shock on her face. Of course, your roommates have acknowledged this place before, so it wouldn't be a surprise that they eventually made this place their date night.

Your mind short-fuses and all you can do is crawl away backwards. Luckily, no one in the crowd seems to suspect how thrown off you just became. Your body quickly calls on another dancer as your mind races. And soon Emmy is taking your spot at the tip rail.

You look over at Eddie, who was in the corner leaning against the wall, but now he is standing upright and confused. Throwing on your cloak, you thank everyone for coming out and run out to the back alley.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit," you mutter to yourself, as your heels click against the cold floor. Your cover is blown. What do you do now? "That's what you get for working local, Hargrove."

You find an area in the alley to rest and hit your dab pen ferociously. As you pace back and forth, you start to develop your exit plan. Nothing new, you develop these plans all the time.

Eventually Robin and Vicky find you. Clumsily spilling out the back door comes Thing 1 and Thing 2, assessing your body language and emotional well-being before finding the right words to say. It’s uncomfortable for everybody.

“Well this is quite the nursing home,” Robin remarks.

“Babe!”

“What?!” Robin exclaims. “I’m trying to lighten the mood.”

“Yeah but that can kinda come off as witty and sarcastic.”

“Well I don’t mean for it to.”

“Just because you don’t mean for it to, doesn’t mean it won’t come across that way.”

“Well knowing Hargrove I would hope she knows it’s not meant to come across that way.”

“GUYS!” your overstimulated self shouts.

All is quiet on midwestern front. Vicky and Robin switch between looking at you and back down at the ground while you resume your stress-filled nic break.

Finally, you speak after exhaling.

“So how’s everyone’s niiight?”

Robin gets straight to the point. “Why didn’t you tell us you work here?”

“I was protecting Max.”

“From what?” Robin wonders. “Ass and boobies? Extensions and falsies and freakishly high, high heels?”

“Doesn’t sound like nightmare fuel to us,” Vicky shrugs.

“It is when you consider the women Billy’s brought home.”

“What does Billy have to do with any of this?” asks Vicky.

“A lot, actually,” you answer.

You shove your pen back into your cloak pocket.

“Look,” you say. “I really needed the money. And I needed it fast. With my server and dancing background, I figured being a stripper was the best way to make it. And I was right. It’s quick money, but it’s sure as hell not easy. It’s draining for the most part, but—”

You stomp at the ground in frustration.

“My sister is fed and she can go to the Y and go to school and she’s away from Billy anditsallthatI’veeverwantedokay? That’s why I did it.”

“Okay, but I don’t see the point in coming up with this elaborate story that you work nights at a nursing home,” Vicky squints in thought. “Come on Hargrove, we are the least judgmental house in the boonies. I mean look at us.”

“Art Hoe Lesbians in a red state,” Robin points out. “I’m sure exotic dancer is a very mild offense.”

They did have a point. And it's not like Max is the type to slut-shame either. But you wanted Max to live as normal of a life as possible. Having a stripper sister also didn’t seem like the best conversation starter in Hawkins.

"I guess I'm just used to living a lie," you admit exhaustedly. "And running away... I also know Max would be worried sick for me."

"You only live lies if you tell 'em," Robin points out. "But as long as you're here with us, you're free to be your true and authentic self."

"Your job right now is to provide," Vicky adds. "And you're doing a wonderful job."

You beam. "Yeah?"

They both nod, yes. Sometimes you forgot what a support system is like. It always used to be everyone for themselves.

"Thanks guys."

"You're welcome," Vicky grins. "For now we'll keep our lips locked. We did not see anything."

"But you are going to have to tell Max eventually," Robin scorns.

"I know," you sigh. "I appreciate the stall."

The three of you hug. That's another thing you've been needing these past few weeks. A warm, authentic hug.

"Nice ass by the way," Robin compliments you.

"And tits," Vicky adds.

"Thanks."

———- ❤️ ———-

“I’ll kindly take you up on that Eddie Special, please,” you mumble.

Eddie had last-called everyone 15 minutes ago, but deep down you hope he had enough room in his heart for you. It’s been a dumpster fire of a shift.

Sure enough Eddie caves, judging by the way he starts up the fryer again after having shut it down right before you got to him.

He grins warmly. “Coming right up.”

As the fryer starts to bubble, Eddie loads in the last of the crinkle cuts. He waits close by with crossed arms.

Eddie’s first to break the silence.

“You seemed to know those customers,” he comments, referring to Vicky and Robin. “Judging by how fast you ran from them. In pumps too.”

“They’re my roommates,” you reply. “My best friend and her partner. They didn’t know I work here.”

He raises the eyebrow at ‘best friend’. “Even they didn’t know you work here?”

“I don’t know what they’d do with this information,” you utter defensively. “I guess it’s just hard for me to trust people.”

“Is it really, Miss Flight Risk?”

He’s referring to moving in with a girl you met online. You shoot him a look. The “I-didn’t-really-have-any-other-choice” look. He quickly digresses.

“I’m kidding,” he surrenders. “Okay? I understand that there are some things you gotta keep secret.” Eddie wriggles the basket full of fries around in the fryer. “…Even from your loved ones.”

Something tells you he speaks from experience. You shrug it off, ensuring he’d elaborate if he wanted to eventually.

Meanwhile you just decide to hit him with some small talk.

"How’s Chef Lucas been doing back here?"

"Fine and dandy," Eddie breathes. "For the most part. He burnt some things a couple of days ago, but that's part of being an apprentice, right?"

"Totally,” you nod. “Mistakes are bound to happen."

"Ohhh yeah," Eddie mutters, almost to himself. "Lots and lots…of mistakes."

"Trial and error, if you will,” you pitch in.

"Yup,” he draws on. “Seeing what works and what doesn’t. Testing the waters..."

Your eyes meet again. Briefly at least.

Eddie struggles to hold his gaze and instead resorts to clumsily playing around with a cloth nearby while whistling a tune. You can feel it getting awkward again so you find a way to keep the conversation going.

“Thank you for being there,” you attempt. “And helping out with my sister’s membership. You didn’t have to.”

“But I wanted to,” Eddie insists. His back is towards you so you can't read his expression. “You’ve been working very hard.”

“That’s why you don’t have to,” you say as-a-matter-of-factly. “It’s already paid off.”

Eddie chuckles. “Okay, then use it to buy yourself something nice. You deserve it.”

A hoot sounds from the opposite end of the hall. It’s Henry making his way over with some keys.

“Alright Babyboy, I’m out,” he announces. “I can lock up if you’d like? Not like I have anything to do.”

“I can take it from here,” Eddie insists. “Sweet dreams, Mr. Creel.”

Henry makes his way over, narrowing his eyes.

“Thought you normally go see Wayne after this.”

“I do,” Eddie replies. “But he had company earlier and I’m sure he already put himself to bed by now. I’ll stop by for breakfast.”

Henry’s eyes shift between you and Eddie. There’s a small smirk but he tries to conceal it. You’re staying late again, huh?

“Your words not mine,” Henry says. “Goodnight you two.”

You both bid Henry goodbye and he sees himself out. Eddie proceeds his periodic check-ins with your taters.

"You've uh, been appointing Henry a lot," you point out.

"Hell yeah, like clockwork," Eddie shrugs. "This industry is predator central. Just hate when dickheads think they can disrespect my girls. I don’t play that way.”

My girls.

“Not his first time doing shit like that,” Eddie adds, referring to the customer. “I regret giving him another chance. I should just get Henry or Jim to print a picture of his face and plaster it all over the walls. DON'T LET THIS ASSHOLE IN.”

You laugh. Eddie laughs at your laugh and then goes to melt the cheese for your dish.

“Yeah,” you say. “You give a man another chance and all he does disappoint you.”

Eddie sighs and nods timidly. “Yeah… Men ain’t shit huh?”

It falls silent for a bit. Eddie slowly stirs the melted cheese concoction he had going on in his pot while eyeing the time. You fiddle around with your cloak out of habit. Eddie speaks first again.

“You know what Shy Girl, I’m gonna do it,” he says. “Gonna broadcast his face and I’ll have you sign off on it.”

“Really?” you say.

“Of course,” Eddie shrugs. “You know how I am. I don’t play when it comes to you.”

The rasp in his voice sounds like melted butter. For a fraction of a second, you start to wonder what you were even mad about earlier.

You really missed talking and bantering with Eddie. Aside from whatever the hell was going on between you both, his companionship was not something you felt was fake.

Eddie begins mixing some sauces, and when he's done he hands you what you assume is your tips that you forgot to collect. You know, when you bolted off the stage.

"Already tipped everyone else out," he explains. "Rest is yours to keep."

You thank him and count all your bills. Now you have $600 of reallocated YMCA money and tips from tonight to pay off your bills and splurge.

You haven't had this much money since your waitressing job. You are forever grateful.

“Is there...anything I owe you Eddie?” you question. “Like at all? You’ve done a lot for me lately.”

“Ehhh you’re in the clear, I guess,” Eddie sheepishly smirks. “Lucky for you I’m a sucker for flattery.”

The fries are now cooked to a golden crisp and Eddie adds the components needed for The Eddie Special. He spends a decent amount of time to perfect the presentation before sitting down in front of you. In true Eddie fashion, he takes a bite of his own creation.

"HOT," he comments, trying to blow on the fry that's already in his mouth. "Hot, hot, hot. Fresh out the fryer."

Judging by his face, however, he approves. You can’t help but giggle over and over again. He gestures for you to try some.

It’s love at first bite.

"Mhm," you coo. "Thank you, Eddie."

"You're welcome," Eddie says. He grabs a washcloth to clean up the area. “Now… when you’re finished, how about I treat you to a real dinner?”

-------

author’s note: school has been taking over my life but i’m so glad i got to crank out this chapter for you guys 🖤 i’m excited to see how y’all are gonna react to shy girl’s orientation dinner…. 👀

tag list: @changemunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n , @corrodedcoffincumslut , @bebe07011 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @chelebelletx , @imonhereforareasonsadly , @eddies-trailer-babe @hideoutside , @motherfckerrr , @jxpsi , @munson-magic , @lindseyj23 , @sidthedollface2 , @manda-panda-monium , @elvendria , @micheledawn1975 , @hereforshmut , @siriuslysmoking , @nymphetkoo , @m-chmcl-rmnc , @holabeans00

#Spotify #eddie munson #joseph quinn #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #joe quinn #stranger things 5 #Eddie #Eddie x reader #reader x Eddie #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #hellfire club

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writing-rat · 10 months ago

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Lorraine's Lover

Pairing: Lorraine Day x GN!AFAB! Reader

Content: 18+ Content, no pronouns used, G!P Lorraine Day, Dominant Lorraine Day, Bottom Reader, AFAB Reader, Bit of fluff

Summary: Lorraine comes home from a shoot, prepared to see her lover and is ready for a good night too...

WC: 925

Lorraine was excited as she was ready to see her partner. Today had been a good filming day and it was local! That didn’t stop Lorraine from getting in the truck for a ride home. She didn’t want to get hurt by people in the town due to her losing her faith and her being a porno as well. Wayne was driving her as RJ was in the back with Maxine, Bobby and Jackson. This time they were filming a porno about 3 girls being slutty restaurant workers. Jackson was the patron and had used all 3 of them that day. Lorraine was just excited to see her partner though, and had checked the time constantly.

After around 10 minutes she was dropped off. “There you go Mouse,” Wayne spoke. They kept the same nickname with her without the church due to her not having faith anymore.

“Thank you,” she said with a smile as she said goodbye to everyone, hugging Maxine and Bobby before running to her house practically. She had invited her lover there after her shoot and they said they would. She was soon through the door, looking for you immediately. That’s when she saw you cooking. “Baby,” she spoke happily and bounded over, hugging you tightly. You smiled immediately, kissing her gently. “Hey,” you spoke gently as you were chuckling. “Makin’ dinner. Good shoot?” you asked, kissing her forehead. “Yeah, we did a few scenes today and only had to redo one. We also had sandwiches and lemonade for lunch so I was cravin’ your cooking,” she responded and you chuckled with a nod. “At least I knew approximately when you came back,” you laughed a bit before plating up. It was just a pasta you had made up in your head, using the leftovers. She sat down eager, as you were soon handing over the food. “Thanks, baby,” she stated, waiting for you to sit down before she started. You loved that. “Want a drink?” you asked. “Yes! Coke please, I do want energy for tonight,” she smirked, causing you to blush and get 2 for the both of you. That’s when you sat down, handing hers over and you started to eat. You were also prepared for the night.

It was about 8 pm and you had just finished watching a film with Lorraine when she was kissing your neck. “My special little lover,” she murmured as she was soon rolling on top of you, kissing you deeply. You kissed back, holding her side as you knew she was ready. You could also feel her bulge on your stomach so you were even more excited about it. That’s when she suddenly laid you down and got on top, playing with your shorts. “You may,” you gasped, knowing what she wanted. She smirked, tugging them down and was surprised to see you commando. “Good,” she praised before removing your shirt, revealing you had no bra on too. Her dick twitched at that.

That’s when she stripped down needily, kissing you before she was rubbing you gently, then entered a finger in slowly. She didn’t want you to be in pain after all. After realising you were loose enough, that’s when she added 2 more fingers and stretched you out fully, getting you ready for her. You appreciated that. “I think I’m loose enough,” you spoke shyly, moaning quietly as Lorraine nodded. “Just say water if you can’t handle it,” she hummed before she was slowly entering inside. You nodded.

She was slow and gentle as she was entering, kissing you gently to help distract you from the pain. You were thankful for that, holding her as gently as possible. “There we go baby,” she muttered gently against your neck. “I’m fully inside, I’ll let you adjust for a few moments,” she added as she was marking your neck fully. You appreciated that, glad to be her lover as she was so much gentler with you than others in the films.

Eventually, after a minute, you nodded. “Thank you, my love,” Lorraine spoke before she started to thrust into you. She was gentle and slow at first, kissing you gently to distract you from the slight pain at first. She hated to see you in pain after all. You soon tilted your neck, whimpering as you wanted her to mark you. You needed it. Lorraine meanwhile was groping at your chest with one hand, kissing your cheek as she thrusted.

Soon enough she was marking your shoulders too, as she was speeding up. She was also getting rougher as well. She knew you could handle it though like all the other times. Your moans also proved it as she kept going with a smirk, soon starting to suck on your nipples. She noticed how you clenched your hands around her. From that, she knew you were close. She was close herself, but she always wanted you to come first. She loved it whenever you tightened against her after all.

Soon enough you came, tightening around her dick. That’s when Lorraine kissed you suddenly, stopping the loud moan before she came hard inside, loving how you kissed back even more needier. “You did good baby,” she panted out with a smile, before kissing you much more gently, staying inside.

“I love you,” you murmured, tired. She chuckled.

“I love you too baby, always will,” she responded and cuddled you. “After a good cuddle session then we can clean up,” she added. You nodded, happy to be held and too tired to walk.

#lorraine x reader #lorraine day x reader #lorraine day #x #x the movie #ratboy writing #ratboy writes

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greattigerssimp · 2 days ago

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Punch Out!! Wii boxers and their workout regimes.

(Got inspired from @bucketspammer4life and their buckets-worth of Punch Out headcannons, so here I am making mine! Teehee. We all saw cutscenes about how Lil Mac trains for matches, but what about the other boxers?? Find out here!)

Glass Joe: 🥐🇫🇷

- Hates waking up early, so he starts later in the afternoon/evening

- When he works out, he wears a black hoodie that says "But first, coffee" on it.

- Focuses on cardio to stay in shape, and because his natural upper body strength is abysmal

- Kaiser sometimes helps him prep for matches and tends to over-praise him... like, Joe will do 2 push-ups and Kaiser will be on his knees, screaming about how amazing Joe is doing.

- Hates dieting to build muscle (since it takes him away from his beloved breads and wine), but if he has to, his go-to meal plan consists of Greek yogurt, berries, PB on whole grain sandwiches, and salads.

- His workout playlist consists of a variety of music, but quite a lot of Daft Punk. He's a closeted fan of them.

- He used to sparr with Gabby Jay before he died. It was his only real practice and upper body exercise he got. Nowadays he sparrs with Kaiser or Bear Hugger for practice

Von Kaiser: 🔩🇩🇪

- Opposite of Joe, focusing on his upper body strength only.

- Wears his classic slutty white tank top and army pants... and iconic boots while working out.

- He also wakes up stupidly early for a run, and almost got mugged one morning one time.

- A rare pull-up lover! Dude is shockingly good at pulling his own weight.

- He's also scarily good at climbing stuff... don't blink, or you'll see him on your roof all of a sudden

- Uses techniques from his own regime to help train his students

- Workout playlist is boring

- Very meat heavy diet, both on rest and training days. Very bleak breakfast, mainly consisting of eggs, toast, and black coffee.

Disco Kid: 🕺🇺🇲

- One word: Boxercise.

- Takes lessons with Heike as his teacher

- Ofc wears the leotard. He's had that leotard for a while, actually... he says it fits fine, buuuut let's just say that there are certain signs that show the outfit getting small on him...

- Exercises whenever he wants; his classes are indoors, so time isn't an issue for him.

- Has over +20 playlists, one for every day, of ever hour, of every "vibe."

- If he's training for a fight, he'll usually rely on greens and vegetables to help him keep him focused. Also plenty of protein shakes (his fave flavor is cookies and cream)

- Aside from boxer-cising, he enjoys going on afternoon or morning walks with his mom (and sometimes April tags along)

King Hippo: 🦛🏝

- His only idea of "working out" is to swim butt naked at the nearest beach

- The only music he listens to is the ocean ✨️

- He always eats a punching bag before hits fights... no one knows why. That should tell you enough about his pre-fight diet.

Piston Hondo: 🥊🇯🇵

- Like Kaiser, works out early in the morning, but also late at night too

- If he's in public, he's wearing a white t-shirt and sweat pants. If he's working out in private, he's wearing this pink Sailor Moon tank top he's owned since he left Japan.

- He and Tiger practice meditation together. Mental health is just as important as physical health!

- Cardio lover

- Disgustingly quick reflexes

- One time, he used a treadmill at the gym, and he accidentally broke it after running in the highest setting for over an hour.

- Playlist consists of J-Pop and a little bit of vocaloid. Like Joe, he's insecure about the music he likes.

- Absolute W workout diet. Rice + home made chicken or white fish, crunchy sea weed strips, and lightly seasoned edamame?? All inside a cute bento box that looks adorable AND portions out the food??? Sign me and the WVBA up! He changes it up a lot, too, for the sake of trying new things.

Bear Hugger: 🐻🇨🇦

- Trains anytime of the day, wearing anything. Sometimes he'll train butt naked in the woods to really "capture the bear spirit."

- Bears, squirrels, you name it! He's trained, at least with every North American animal, at least once.

- Loves hockey! Not only does he watch it a lot, but he's good at playing! He and Lomasi play for fun or for training.

- Doesn't really listen to music while working out (he prefers the sounds of nature) buuut he does have a playlist all about country rock.

- His diet? Raw fish. Either caught by him, Lomasi or the bear he trains with.

Great Tiger: 🐅🇮🇳

- Doesn't actually work out... his clones do, and he resuscitates the energy from their efforts.

- Does meditation with Hondo... will float unconsciously during meditation.

- His playlist consists of authentically Indian music, mainly ones with a calming aura. He listens to them while meditating

- Will sometimes go on jogs with Hondo and get hilariously left behind because Hondo is naturally speedy

- Works out/meditates shirtless

- Would have a W diet if he knew how to cook. He mainly gets Hondo to make him bento boxes for lunch and dinner. Had a prime phase for a good 2 months

Don Flamenco: 🥀🇪🇸

- Works out shirtless in the summer, low-cut tank top in the autumn and spring seasons, and doesn't work outside during the winter.

- Also loves swimming! His swimming exercises are pretty rigorous. Also, he posts thrist traps of him swimming for attention lmao

- Carmen decides when he can and can't work out. Someday's he can work out at night or in the morning, and somedays he can't

- His workout playlist is all sorts of disorganized. He's got authentic Spanish music in there, but he also likes his fair share of girly pop (thanks to Carmen), and because of his one emo phase, there's a bunch of metal and punk pop in there. One minute he's listening to "Firework," the next, it's "Misery Business."

- He would absolutely LOVE to have his own Spanish based diet, but nah... Carmen's rich parents usually cook for him every night. He's stuck eating unseasoned chicken and cold collared green until his fights. And no, he isn't allowed to cook for himself, even though he can do so pretty well.

Aran Ryan: 😈🇮🇪

- Upper strength dude, straight up. If he's not punching something into oblivion, he's not working out.

- Works out all night and sleeps all day.

- Will trash talk whatever inanimate object he's beating into oblivion.

- Got arrested once for fighting random strangers on the street... police were called after he bit someone's finger off. Claims he was just working out

- Wears a "punch me, I'm Irish" tank while he's working out

- Playlist consists of Irish and British punk rock bands

- Gets hot way too easily; the place he works out in has to be breezy/cool or he's getting distracted

- No diet whatsoever. No one's taking his fish and chips or his shepards pies away from him, no sir

Soda Popinski: 🍾🇷🇺

- Booty shorts and crop top tank top. Doesn't matter what the weather is... he's wearing this. He gets a lot of stares...

- Hates cardio, makes him anxious bc he's so tall. Focuses on upper body strength

- He isn't into basketball, but if we was, he'd be really good at it; would be a nice way to train.

- During his withdrawal phase, he found it horrible to work out. He felt so tired and weak for days on end, and lacked the motivation needed to workout.

- Broke lots of training equipment back in his spiked liquor era.

- Playlist mainly consists of Russian hits that he grew up with + the occasional folk song

- Sparrs with Macho Man for totally straight reasons (liesss)

- Very safe, very bland diet... but it does the trick, and it doesn't make him throw up. He's very conscious about what he puts into his body, since he's afraid of how the liquor would react to it.

Bald Bull: 🐂🇹🇷

- Wears a boxing outfit + tank top

- Also meditates, but privately.

- His entire work out regime is as closeted as possible.

- Very calm when working out... he's almost a completely different person than how he is in the ring

- Listens to calming white noise instead of music

- Diet isn't that rigorous, but it isn't particularly unhealthy either. Baklava for breakfast, lean kebabs for lunch, and Manti for dinner.

Super Macho Man: 🌊🇺🇸

- Wears the same speedo he does in the ring when he works out. If it's cold outside, he'll wear a Hollywood Blvrd hoodie and no pants, aside from that speedo.

- ONLY works out on the beach he lives by, and only does it in the afternoons.

- Blasts his music on the beach... he listens to a DISGUSTING amount of pit bull. It's either him, or any other rave song that's been played dozens of times

- Either swims, surfs, or punches a bag. He'll record himself doing this too

- Likes to sparr with Soda on the beach... and surf, ofc, this is my AU and Soda x Macho Man is built upon romantic surfing moments !!!

- Also hates dieting, like Joe, but if he has too, he'll stick to steaks and energy drinks. Also enjoys morning Mimosa's

Mr. Sandman: 💤🇺🇲

- Very private work out routine

- Spends entire days in his apartment, just punching a bag and listening to a playlist designed by Mr. Dream that TOTALLY doesn't have subliminal messages... ha-

- Puts bulking powders into every piece of lean meat and energy drink he consumes; its borderline unhealthy

- Ofc the bulking powder he uses is created by the WVBA...

- He's lowkey miserable, but pretends he's not.

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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 4 months ago

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Emerald Hallow Chapter 7

Summary: Steve Rogers wants to move on. He wants to forget Peggy, and dive into the 21st century. But this man of the past doesn’t know how to navigate being an Alpha in a modern world of skittish Omegas. He prides himself on his self control, never wanting to harm or scare them, until something just smells too damn good…and he’s not the only one who notices.

**plus size reader

Warnings: abo!dynamics, smutty smut smut, name calling, eventual threesome, voyeurism, rough sex

Previous chapter Next chapter

Two days later Bucky came home, nearly breaking the door down. “The fuck was that?” he yelled at Steve when he opened the door. He pushed him against the wall next to the door, bringing himself toe to toe with him. His dark stare would have scared anyone else shitless, but Steve could see the hunger beneath. “Sending me a video like that while I’m on a mission. What were you trying to do, get me killed? What is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong, Buck? Jealous I could make her do things you can’t?” Steve asked teasingly, his eyes flickering from Bucky’s eyes to his lips and back.

Bucky’s huffed breaths spread across Steve’s face, his nose flaring. “You’re still in your rut.”

“Almost over,” Steve grunted.

“Bucky?” Y/N’s strained voice called from the bedroom. His head snapped toward it, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Why does she sound like that?” Bucky asked.

“Like what?” Steve said, looking confused.

“Small,” Bucky said simply, pushing away from him. “What did you do? Fuck the fire out of her?”

Steve blinked. He thought back over the last few days of his rut. She had pushed him so far he’d gone feral and had barely let her leave the bed. His eyes widened. “Fuck.”

Bucky was already walking down the hallway, stopping at the doorway and inhaling sharply. “Oh my god, Y/N,” he gasped before swiftly approaching the bed. She looked exhausted, dark circles under her eyes, her hair a matted mess, her eyes shining with unshed tears and small bruises from fingerprints, bite marks and hickeys littering her skin. “Oh honey, Jesus…”

“I’m okay Buck. It’s my fault,” Y/N said shakily. “I teased him too much. I made him feral.”

“Feral?” Bucky scoffed. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” He reached over and pulled her out of the bed and headed towards the shower. As her body scrunched a sputtering sound came from her legs. Bucky looked down and saw a puddle of cum dripping from her. “For fuck’s sake,” he growled then got her into the bathroom.

Steve watched on in worry. He’d taken it too far. He’d lost control. His rut-riddled brain had just urged him to take, take and take again. He couldn’t remember how many times he’d cum, knotted her, made her cum until she was begging him to stop, but he just kept going until he felt fulfilled. How selfish.

Bucky got the water running and helped her sit on the bench in the shower then went back out. He marched past Steve to the kitchen, grabbing some of the fruit in the fridge and making a quick sandwich and filling a water bottle. He came back into the bedroom and glared at Steve before shutting the bathroom door with a resounding thud. Steve broke down, sitting on the cum encrusted sheets of his bed and hanging his head in his hands. What had he done?

After an hour Bucky carried Y/N out of the bathroom. She was wrapped in the robe she left at Steve’s apartment. She looked a lot better, cleaned up and the food had done wonders in making her look more alive. “Y/N, I’m so sorry,” Steve said sadly, trying to touch her. Bucky moved her away from him, a warning rumble in his chest. Steve stopped himself from growling at Bucky in retaliation and shook his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I’d lost control. That’s never happened to me before. I’m just…I’m so sorry,” he cried. He sniffled pathetically as Y/N watched him. She gestured for Bucky to put her down, which he did on the now clean bed after Steve had stripped the sheets while they were in the bathroom, but not moving far away from her. She reached a hand out and Steve closed the space between them, taking her hand and kneeling in front of her by her knees.

“I’m sorry Steve. I was hurt, and I took it too far,” Y/N sighed. She reached her other hand out and cupped his cheek, which he quickly nuzzled. “I didn’t mean to make you feral.”

“I know,” Steve whispered and kissed her palm. “Please forgive me, Omega. My love,” he kissed both her palms and sniffed her wrists, which he grimaced at because she smelled almost completely of him. A few more tears fell from his eyes and she scratched his beard with her fingers.

“I forgive you,” she hummed. She pulled his hands up and kissed his knuckles. She then turned to look at Bucky. “Right?”

Bucky inhaled deeply and exhaled heavily, his eyes still boring into Steve. Steve looked at him, hoping he was conveying just how awful he felt. “You hurt our mate,” Bucky accused sharply.

“I know, I did,” Steve sniffed again, his lips trembling. “I’ll never forgive myself, please…”

Bucky’s eyes shut tight. “I forgive you, I’m just still angry.”

“I’m angry with myself. I got carried away. I didn’t even realize it was so…so bad,” he sputtered, kissing Y/N’s hands again. He wound his arms around her middle and squeezed her, burying his face into her stomach.

“It’s okay, I’m okay Steve,” she reassured him, her hands running through his hair and scratching his scalp. “We’ll be okay.”

***

The next few months were a work in progress. They all had to iron out the specifics of the relationship, define their boundaries and communicate openly with each other. The war was over, and Y/N healed quickly. Steve was still extremely upset and even more guarded than before, being very careful to not let himself lose control. Bucky had eventually been able to get past the fact that Steve had inadvertently hurt Y/N, but was still very protective of her. Learning to share in a dynamic like theirs was new for all of them, and it would take time and practice to perfect.

On a warm spring night Y/N came home from the club. Bucky would be home from a mission any day and Steve would be accompanying him since he’d consulted on the mission at the Avengers compound. She had been feeling the stirrings of her heat coming on for the last week, her hormones raging and her body aching as it prepared itself. She had been nesting like a madwoman. After she and Bucky had officially moved into Steve’s apartment so they could all be together she had been rearranging the furniture, creating little nests in every cozy spot and corner she could find. Since the others had been gone she had free reign and used it to her advantage.

Her body was overheating, sweat forming along her hairline as she stripped out of her clothes and tunneled into the nest of blankets, pillows, and Bucky’s and Steve’s clothes she’d created on the bed. She had turned the air conditioner up, chugging two bottles of water before burrowing. She texted them both to let them know it was starting, so if she didn’t answer them it was because she was otherwise preoccupied. Y/N laid down and grabbed the nearest shirt to her and inhaled sharply, recognizing Bucky’s scent at the neckline and moaning as she bit the collar, her hand trailing down in between her legs.

#marvel #smut #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #series fanfic #chapter 7 #alpha!steve rogers x omega!reader x alpha!bucky barnes #alpha!steve rogers #alpha!bucky barnes #omega!reader #omegaverse #abo #stucky #emerald #halloween

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elliebyrrdwrites · 1 month ago

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Marriage Law Trope part 6

I don’t know why it matters. I don’t even like to eat.

I get up every day and I put my body into clothes that are growing increasingly baggy on me. I put these clothes on my body and I attempt to waste time.

Every day, while Granger is away, I pick at the white paint on the wall. I pick at the paint with a brush and colors I tore out of the studio in my personal quarters inside of the manor. I pick at my colors and I carry them all into the empty room across the hall from where all of Granger’s boxes are. the boxes are full of bits and pieces of her and I spend my time going between the two rooms.

I open her boxes and look through her life. It’s a stripped down, rudimentary version of who she is, but I take it.

I find pictures of her from when she was a child. Muggle photos, where nothing moves. It’s a still shot of a moment and you know it’s not an accurate representation of life because its just this micromomentary snippet of a moment within a moment within a world that you’ve never been in.

All day, I do this until I get too wound up.

When the ants have taken over my body and my brain can’t quiet down, I floo over to Theo’s.

Mother shoved Theo into my life shortly after I got engaged with Astoria. She took him and shoved him to fit into my life and I’ve taken to him. He seems to understand me without me having to say a word.

When I floo into his home, usually around dinner time, he pours me a drink and then we find our way into the muggle littered streets of London.

Together, Theo and I watch the automobiles amble by. Muggles like engines that combust with little explosions and they’re loud and they make the road shake and my skin to vibrate and I like it.

Theo and I pick fights with whatever smarmy asshole who hits on anything with tits and two legs. I don’t want the women they flirt with. I just want to have a wife who will sit at he table with me and have a cup of tea. I want a wife who will come home at supper time and tells me what is going on in her head.

I want a wife who doesn’t fuck a Weasley.

By the time Granger finally gets home, the alcohol has turned my body into mush, my mind is aching and it’s all wearing off. It’s the reprimand for altering your mind again. My mind is nearly always altered, but with alcohol, it hurts my head and with the potions, it hurts my chest.

And so when Granger finally gets home, I am still bored and I grow frustrated with the room that is now where I paint, because it’s too white, but I’m afraid to put any color into it. Because that would be distracting.

And so I just pick at the paint and I wait.

“So you paint.” Granger says, her eyebrows knitting together.

We’re sitting at the dining table inside of our little home and there’s a plate of food in front of me and there’s a plate in front of her.

She’s made us lunch.

Something simple. Sandwiches with cucumbers and cheese and dill. There’s a salad with cranberries and spinach and something else, I don’t know. I don’t care.

Because, Granger asked me what I do all day.

So I tell her all of that.

I shrug and poke a fork at the green leaf on the plate. “I can’t work at the ministry and I like using my hands,” I shrug and avoid the way her eyes pierce into the walls of my mind. She’s not a Legilimen’s. I know this. But she might as well be something like it. Something worse.

She’s breaking down the walls just by staring at me.

Because, it’s oddly comforting and its unnatural and somehow, Granger’s eyes can peel back the layers of brick I’ve stacked and solidified.

I hate how much she sees with those big, dumb eyes and I hate that I can read her face, too.

She’s let some the cracks in her wall deepen and spread and soon, her bricks will fall because I think if I can touch her, then I can break her.

So, I tell her that I like to paint and that I look through her things.

I tell her about Theo and about breakfast with my parents. I tell her that I do laps around the property. I run and I run until my legs feel like they’re going to detach from my body.

What I don’t tell her is that I spend most of my day thinking about her. What I don't tell is her that I am tired of eating alone. What I don’t tell her, is that I sometimes play with her hair products just so that her scent can linger in my nose.

And I hate it. She’s like this parasite that’s dug itself into my life and it’s feeding off of me. But the weird thing is that I need this parasite, because it makes me something more than before. With this little parasite surviving off of my blood, I am more than nothing. I am something that’s giving a piece of myself and it’s taking and taking but it never gives me anything in return. It’s terrible and I wish she’d disappear. I wish I could wrap my hands around her neck and force her to fade away, as if we never existed.

What I don’t tell her, is that when she is gone, I spend most of my time wishing she was around.

...

The following Saturday, I wake up before Granger. I might not have even fallen asleep. Because, the potions aren’t working anymore. I’m always on edge. I’m always twitching. My mind wont shut up. It’s always chattering and I can never sit still anymore.

So, I paint. I paint this vision in my head that has been slowly building since Granger re-entered my life.

There’s the sun rising over a crowded city, but the buildings are mere specks on the horizon. Because there’s so much smog, so much bullshit in the air that they are barely visible. And the sun is setting over this dirty city and the rays of sun are blending with all of the crap and all of the impurities and all of me as it casts its warm glow over the world.

The blend of gold and brown creates this beautiful shade of topaz.

It reminds me of Granger and her eyes.

She finds me early that morning in the empty white room as I fill one of the walls with color.

“You’re up early.” She says it like I’m some kind of animal who is liable to bite her at any moment.

And I am.

All I do is think about biting her. All I do is think about how terrible it would be if I was to want her. How horrible it could be if I could just bite and suck at her throat and at her perfect tits.

She’s dressed in her stupid baggy sweater and her little blue shorts and as I look over at her, my hand holding a paintbrush at my side, I want to punish her. Because she's never around but she still manages to be everywhere.

With a sigh, I run a hand over my hair, shoving it out of my face before I turn to face her fully.

Her eyes are doing that thing again. As she leans against the doorjamb, her eyes are sweeping over my body. She’s looking at my naked chest, streaked in paint, and the way my pants hang loosely on my hips.

Her walls are weak right now.

“I couldn’t sleep.” I tell her. My eyelids feel heavy as I run my own eyes over her body, up her bare legs, over the way the sweater hangs over her breasts. she isn’t wearing a bra and despite how baggy the thing is, it doesn’t hid the peeked tips of her breasts.

We’re eating each other up with our eyes and the words we’ve exchanged mean nothing at all. And maybe if we just get this consummation out of the way, out of our system, we can go back to hating each other.

But, I’m not sure Granger even hates me. Because she hates my father, and I know, I know, that to be true because the hatred is palpable. When she sees my father meandering around the property, or they cross paths, her buoyant curls seem to come to life with all of the agitated magic that suddenly enteres her system. She turns into some sort of mass generator of energy and it’s all angry and it’s all bad. And it’s all aimed at father.

I need her to tell me what the fuck she is thinking. And I need all of her attention on me.

“What are you doing today?” I ask, tossing my paintbrush onto the floor before I move closer to her. I move, slowly, careful not to scare her off.

She takes a step into the room. She shrugs and pushes a lock of hair behind her ear. “I am going to go to brunch with Harry and Ron.”

That ancient thing inside of me stirs. It feels like an old friend and it’s slowly spreading from the center of my belly, into my chest and out to my limbs.

Granger’s eyes narrow in on me, because I’ve stopped moving. My feet are stuck to the floorboards, my eyes are dead, vacant as the beast takes over.

My teeth clench together as I finally lift my chin and sniff.

“You’re not going anywhere with Weasley.”

“Draco,” She sighs but I cut her off. with the flick of my wrist, the door slams shut and locks.

Granger jumps, startled, and looks to the door before she looks to me, her wide eyes full of fear. She turns to open the door, but it wont budge. She tries some wandless magic, but my hold on the door is firm. And I don’t really know what the fuck I am doing. All I know is that I’m breaking.

I am crumbling into something I don’t recognize and it’s unstoppable. I couldn’t stop this disaster from happening, even if I tried.

Trust me, I know.

“Let me out.” She demands as she turns to glower at me. “Draco, let me out.”

“Shut up.” I hiss, running a hand over my face. “You’re always saying my name. Stop saying my name.”

“Why?” She lifts her chin, defiantly, and it’s too much. Her stubborn chin is taunting me. Her defiance is irritating and it is addicting.

I close the gap between us and I wrap my hands around her throat. But I don’t choke her out, like I dream about. Instead, my fingers are gentle as I cradle her head.

“It does things to me. Why do you do it?”

Granger is trembling and all of her walls are crumbling as her eyes stare up at me with fear and...relief. Tears are quickly gathering and welling up in her eyes and her golden-brown topaz eyes sparkle.

But she says nothing. She just stares up at me, waiting for me to hurt her.

“You’re my wife.” I remind her. “Not Weasley’s.”

Her jaw tightens and she looks guilty and all the more defiant.

“You want him?” I ask her, tilting my head to track my eyes up her face, over her forehead and across her nose. This close up, I can make out all of the little faint freckles that line the bridge of her nose, the curves of her cheeks. There’s some on her forehead, near her hairline that are even fainter. Like those are the newest batch of freckles gifted to her by the sun.

Her voice is rough and quiet. “I don’t know, anymore.”

She’s telling me the truth. So I ask her something else.

“Do you want me?”

Something incredible happens. Grangers shoulders slump as her entire body gives in. Her eyes pinch shut and her lips press together because she is unable to keep her walls up around me. She’s just as helpless as I am.

“Granger,” I bend my knees and peer down into her face. “Do you want me?” If I sound incredulous, it’s because I am.

Because my wife wants me as much as I want her. And the point is, I’ve wanted her for ages. Lifetimes have spanned and in my mind, it's always been her. All I think about is her big, dumb eyes and her rose pink lips and gods, I want her.

I’ve kept this little nugget of gold in my mind, protected. It’s been so heavily guarded that I sometimes forget it’s even there. It’s this tiny little truth that has been so sinful, and such a betrayal to my father, that I've locked it away. It’s just been hiding there, collecting dust and now it’s been exposed and it’s been cleaned off and it’s so bright and shiny, I can on longer ignore it.

“Things are too complicated, Draco.”

There she goes, again.

“Granger,” I’m pushing her back, guiding her body with my hands on her throat and she lets me. She lets me walk my fingers up to her jaw. she lets me force her head back against the door with a thud. “Tell me the truth. Tell me you want me.”

She’s so fragile in my hands, I’m afraid I might break her. I hope that I do.

And I’m all wound up. All of that energy that begs to be let out of my body is slowly releasing itself into her and I can barely breathe. I’m panting and panting, gobbling up bits of oxygen and forcing it out through my mouth before it can even turn into carbon dioxide.

“Draco.” Her lips are trembling, and my hands are shaking and she needs to shut the fuck up, already. She has to stop saying my name like I’m hers.

I can’t wait for her confirmation, anymore. Because she keeps whimpering out my name, like its some sort of an explanation for some sort of terrible deed she has committed. She says it like its exposing the depths of her soul, unwillingly. Like I’m pulling it out of her, slowly and painfully, like bits of stubborn string.

She opens her mouth to say it again and I stop her.

She opens her mouth and I close my own over it. I taste the syllables of my name that are muffled by my lips and my tongue as I kiss her.

My name turns into a whimper and all of my anger turns into a groan and together, our sounds mix together as our mouths mold together.

There is so much heat between our bodies that it feels like a fire. This entire room could be on fire and I couldn’t stop myself from continuing to gobble her up.

Her hands are on my chest, the tips of her little fingers pressing into my skin. She’s desperately trying to hold on as we fall into whatever this is.

This is chaos and bliss all wrapped up into a kiss. Because I’m unstoppable. This is the classic paradox out in the open, exposed for the entire world to witness. What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object? And just like the fox and the hound, the gods turn us into static constellations. Which in itself is a paradox because stars are never static. We're great forces of energy that are always shifting.

And we're creating all of this energy that is finally colliding.

And now, I am kissing her like it's the only thing I’ve been needing and I didn’t know. I have just stumbled upon it, and now I’m saved and doomed all at once.

My hands are firm on her jaw, the tips of my fingers digging into her cheeks as I press harder against her body.

I’m going to squeeze her between my body and the door and I’m going to force her into some kind of liquid that my body can absorb and then she will be all mine.

Only mine.

I pull my mouth away, gasping for air. “You’re my wife.” I growl and she responds by pressing her fingernails into the flesh on my chest. “You’re mine.”

“Draco.” She says it again, like a warning.

But I just take it as permission to proceed.

I kiss her again and again and again.

I kiss her until her body grows weak and my arms have to wrap around her waist. they have to hold her up and she’s wrapping her arms around my neck while the tips of her toes drag across the floor as I move her to the center of the room.

Because I need to kiss her forever. I need to pin her to the floor and never let her out of my sight. Because she belongs to me. She was forced to be my wife, forced to take me and I don’t understand how I got so lucky.

Laying her on the floor, I crawl over her and pin her down with my body. My knee is wedged between her thighs and my hands are on her hips as I kiss her again and again.

Again and again, I kiss her while my hands move under that stupidly baggy sweater of hers and I feel the warmth of bare skin at her stomach.

She shudders under my touch and I can tell she’s conflicted. Because she thinks we’re making a huge mistake but how can it be a mistake? She’s mine.

I am hers.

Fuck.

I am hers.

My hands are slowly, greedily, palming her flesh as they make their way up to her breasts.

When my fingers finally graze the swell of them and she arches her back and my eyes are practically rolling into the back of my head as I feel the soft texture, like velvet and they feel like something I’d like to snack on.

“Draco.” She whimpers into my mouth as my thumbs move over her nipples. I want to tease her, torture her. I want to make her pay.

Because no witch should feel this good. Especially not the mudblood I was programmed to hate.

But she owns me, now.

Her lips, her breasts, the warm space between her thighs own me. And I will be forced to obey them and their needs and wants.

And so I rip the sweater off of her, exposing her upper body and I can feel my face crumble. Because it isn’t fair.

It isn’t fair, how lovely she is. It isn’t fair for me to want her as badly as I do.

And the way she looks up at me, needy and desperate and full of confliction? That isn’t fair, either.

But she’s asking me, with her eyes, to take her. She’s asking me to put my mouth to her breast, to run my tongue over her nipples, to pinch them between my teeth as my hand slides up the leg of her shorts. As my fingers sweep taunting strokes against her wet cunt. They’re asking me to pull those stupid little shorts off and to strip off my stupid pants. They’re asking me to pin her down with my hands as my cock slides into her. So that we can sigh and groan with the fucking release and the pressure that are happening and building all at once. Because that is all we need.

Our bodies are crying out to touch and to take all of the tension between us and stuff it into our bodies until we’re wound up tighter and tighter.

Until we finally explode into the sky like stars that grow too hot, that accumulate too much pressure from all of the gases and chemicals that make up the entirety of our universe.

And when we finally explode, we break up into little debris of rock and matter so that a new world can form from all of our broken pieces. And isn’t that all we are? Just bits of energy that also makes up the rest of everything?

And so I do. I take all of my energy and I pour it into her as we fuck like two ancients gods that only know the power of pleasure and pain.

And when we finally fuck until we burn into a supernova that births a new beginning, Granger stares up at the ceiling like she couldn’t believe the inevitable finally happened.

And I stare at her like I might die if I don't somehow find a way to do it again and again. Like it's the thing I've been waiting for, in order to cure this terrible disease that has long ago been afflicted upon me.

Granger is the cure to the illness that has been my life.

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prettyyoungandbored · 1 year ago

Text

Drunk - Johnny Knoxville

Pairing: Johnny Knoxville x Fem!Reader (“Babydoll”)

Author’s Note: Takes place while the two are dating. Also, you guys get to meet Y/N’s best friend who will become an important character in later stories!

NOT MY GIF

“Babydoooooooll.”

Y/N looked up from her laptop to see Johnny peeking at her from the door frame of her office.

“Hello, handsome” she chuckled.

A lovesick grin was stuck on his face as he made his way to her couch. He laid out like a centerfold for her to enjoy.

She shook her head. “You got my email about the final edits, right?”

“Sure did. But I’m not here to talk work with you.”

She snorted. “I should’ve known better. What’s up?”

“The boys and I are going out tonight,” he said.

“I’ll have my cell phone on me incase you need me to bail you out of jail,” she responded.

He pouted. “You don’t wanna come?”

“I can’t. Remember Whitney and I are having a girl’s night at my place?”

“Ah, that’s right.”

Whitney was Y/N’s best friend who Johnny had yet to meet. They two women had been thick as thieves since high school. She was the first to know about Y/N and Johnny’s relationship, other than Holly and Steve-O.

He also knew that if Whitney didn’t like him, he was done for.

“But I know you’re gonna have so much fun and you can tell me all about it Saturday,” Y/N said. She looked up from her laptop. “Maybe Saturday morning if you bring me breakfast in bed.”

He sat up. “What do you want me to make?”

“Who said anything about cooking breakfast?” she smirked.

His lips curved into a knowing grin. “Oh, Babydoll, I’ll-.”

“You can just grab me a breakfast sandwich from McDonalds and present it to me in bed.”

His grin fell as Y/N cackled. He shook his head. “Not funny.”

Y/N walked over and kissed his cheek. “You’ll get over it Saturday morning.”

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

Hours later, Johnny sat in a private room of the strip club, the world spinning around him. He felt out of his own body. He could barely move from the couch.

That’s when Jeff walked into the private room.

“PJ, time to get out of the room,” he nudged Johnny.

“I wanna…I wan…”

“C’mon man. Let’s-.”

“I wanna go home.”

“I’ll get a cab to your apartment.”

“No, I want Y/N.”

Jeff sighed. “Ok, I’ll send you in a cab to her place.”

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

“I love these women so much.”

Whitney nodded as she sipped her wine. The two sat on Y/N’s couch as The Golden Girls played on the TV.

Girl’s night was a sacred tradition between the two since high school that continued when they both moved to Los Angeles. It required four essentials - comfy clothes, wine, food, and a show or a movie.

Tonight, Whitney opted for a navy blue tracksuit that made her auburn colored hair pop. Y/N wore oversized sweatpants and one of Johnny’s graphic tees that she swiped from him.

As both women took a bite of their slices of pizza, Whitney asked, “How’d you find this place again?”

“PJ ordered it last week. It’s good, right?”

“It’s amazing! I can’t tell you the last time I’ve had pizza this good.” She looked over at Y/N. “How are you and PJ doing?”

Y/N’s lips curved into an embarrassed smile that she tried to pull back. Whitney nodded, accept that as answer.

“Oh you’re in deep,” she chuckled.

Y/N set her slice back down on the plate and turned toward her best friend. “I just…whenever I’m with him, everything makes sense.”

“In what way?”

“Like, it just feels right. I don’t feel anxious or on edge. It’s like that feeling you get under the covers after being outside in the freezing cold, you know? It’s that level of comfort.”

Whitney grinned cheekily. “You love him,” she teased in a sing-song voice.

“I-ok, look-.”

Before Y/N could continue, she heard a knock at her door.

“Must be the neighbors or something,” she said, getting up from the couch and going toward the front door.

Y/N opened it to see Jeff holding up an inebriated Johnny.

“PJ?” Y/N asked, concerned about his current state.

“Your boy got shitfaced and wanted to come here so, here he is,” Jeff explained.

He pushed Johnny onto Y/N, as she grabbed onto him. Jeff then walked away, leaving Y/N with her stupidly drunk boyfriend.

Johnny shot her a lazy smile. “Hi Babydoll.”

She could smell the liquor from his breath. “Oh, you definitely need some water.”

“I’m fi-I’m good.”

“No, you’re not. C’mon now.”

She led him to the living room where Whitney watched in confusion.

He pointed at Whitney. “Holy shit, it’s you.”

“Holy shit it’s me,” she laughed. She turned to Y/N. “How the did he get here?”

“He got dropped off by one of his friends,” Y/N sighed. “Whit, I’m so sorry. I didn’t plan for this.”

“Don’t apologize,” Whitney reassured. “Besides, I’ve been wanting to meet the infamous PJ Clapp.”

Y/N helped Johnny get settled on the couch. “Do not move,” she told him. “I’m getting you water. Whit, make sure he doesn’t touch the wine.”

“You got it!” Whitney said as she grabbed the bottle and Y/N’s glass and moved it to the nightstand on her side of the couch.

She then turned to see Johnny looking at her.

“I...uh…hi,” he said, giving her a lazy wave.

“Hi Johnny or PJ or whatever you want me to call you.”

“You can call me wha-whatever. I can call you…can I call you Whitney?”

“It’s my name so yeah, you can.”

He nodded. “Good, good.”

Y/N came back with a glass of water. She sat by Johnny and handed it to him.

“Can you drink this for me, please?” she asked.

He took a sip as Y/N rubbed his back. “Looks, like you had fun at the strip club,” she said.

“I got a lap dance,” he admitted, nodding his head.

“How was it?” Whitney asked.

“I don’t know.”

Y/N and Whitney exchanged looks, the women fighting smiles on her face.

“Did you at least tip her well?” Y/N asked.

“I kept my tip in my pants! I swear!”

The two roared in laughter, much to Johnny’s confusion.

“Honey, I meant did you give her a nice tip?” Y/N asked.

His eyes widened. “OHHHH! I think one of the guys did, so yeah.” He paused for a moment. “Oh yeah, yeah, yeah.”

“Well, I’m glad you had fun,” Y/N said patting his leg. “I’m gonna get the bed ready for you. I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”

Johnny nodded. Y/N left the room as Whitney turned to Johnny.

“You’re gonna have a killer headache tomorrow,” she remarked, sipping her wine. “Luckily, Y/N knows a fantastic breakfast burrito place that will cure that.”

Johnny motioned for Whitney to lean in closer. She moved an inch, still keeping a distance. “Dont tell Y/N,” he began, using a stage whisper, “but I’m in love with her.”

Whitney nodded, fighting every ounce in her body to not laugh. “I won’t as long as you tell her when you’re sober.”

Johnny gave her a thumbs up. “Also, don’t tell her you terrify me.”

Whitney’s eyes widened in delight. “You’re scared of me? That’s so sweet!”

“You’re her best friend, man, and like, if I fuck up, you’ll beat my ass. I’m still waiting for you to beat my ass for going to a strip club.”

“Johnny, PJ - whatever your name is - you make Y/N the happiest she’s been in a long, long time. As long as you treat her with the respect she deserves, that’s all that matters to me. If you don’t, then yeah I’ll beat your ass.”

He nodded. “You got it.”

He held out his hand, baffling Whitney who shook it to just keep the peace. She made a note, however, to never let him live it down.

“Which strip club did you go to?” she asked, leaning back on the arm of the sofa

“I don’t know. Dave picked it out.”

Y/N returned to the room. “Ok, let’s get you in the bed,” she said.

Johnny’s face lit up, causing Y/N to roll her eyes. “Absolutely not like that, Clapp. Now, c’mon.”

She grabbed his hand and helped him off the couch, leading him into the bedroom. Whitney followed, not wanting to miss a single moment of this.

“Are you gonna join me?” Johnny asked.

“In a little bit,” Y/N answered.

She led him to the bed. “Ok, now lay down for me and I’ll get your shoes off.”

He fell back onto the bed, lifting his foot for Y/N. Whitney watched from the door frame, sipping her wine.

“You have this man whipped,” she remarked. “Incredible.”

Johnny groaned. “ ‘M not whipped!”

Y/N pulled off the second shoe and grabbed his legs, moving them on to the bed. “Don’t move.”

“Yes m’am.”

“Night PJ,” Whitney teased as Y/N walked out of the bedroom.

He grumbled something as the auburn-haired woman turned off the light.

Back in the living room, Y/N sighed. “Whit, I am so, so sorry.”

“For what?” Whitney asked with a laugh. “There’s nothing to be sorry for!”

“It’s girl’s night though.”

“Hun, it’s fine. Besides, we’re grabbing dinner on Sunday. Speaking of, if you wanna invite PJ, you should.”

“Really?” Y/N asked.

“Of course. I need to get to know my best friend’s man when he’s not wasted,” she laughed. “But, I will say, so far I like him for you.”

Y/N smiled. “Yeah, I like him for me too.”

Whitney pulled her best friend in for hug. “I’m really happy for you, but if he hurts you, you know I have to kick his ass.”

“I know.”

“Good, because I told him that while you were out of the room.”

She grabbed her purse and swung it over her shoulder. “I’ll call you when I get home.”

Before Y/N could say anything, the sounds of Johnny hurling into the trash can distracted them. Whitney pointed to the bedroom.

“Good luck.”

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

Johnny woke up to what felt like a hammer hitting his head continuously. He groaned, keeping his eyes closed. The only thing worse than the headache were the waves is nausea that overwhelmed him.

“Good morning, handsome.”

He opened one eye to see Y/N walk into the bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed his forearm.

“How bad was I last night?” he asked.

“The good news is you didn’t piss yourself.”

“Good.”

“You did, however, redecorate my trash can. And my floor. I took care of it though.”

He groaned more. “Oh, Babydoll, I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok,” she reassured, softly chuckling. “I am glad I slept on the couch.”

He pouted. “You didn’t.”

“Oh yeah! After the piss incident, I wasn’t taking any chances,” she chuckled.

He sighed. “I’m sorry I was a mess and ruined your night.”

“You didn’t ruin my night. You, did leave quite the impression on Whitney.”

He felt his stomach drop to his ass. He leaned up immediately. “What I did do? What did I say?”

“You did nothing wrong!” she said. “She thinks you’re hysterical. You won her over, which I told you you would.”

He exhaled, relieved. He fell back onto the bed, his hand on his forehead. “Thank God.”

“She actually wants you to come to dinner with us and a couple other people on tomorrow night.”

He smiled. “I’ll be there and on my best behavior.”

Y/N pat his arm. “Good. Now, I’m gonna get you some aspirin and water. If you take it for me, I’ll give you the best breakfast burrito of your life.”

“How about I take the medicine and you come into bed with me? I’m not ready to eat yet.”

“Works for me.” She pecked his cheek and left the room.

Johnny fell back on the bed and sighed. His nausea and headache subsided as guilt overcame him. He didn’t deserve to get away like this. He didn’t deserve a woman like Y/N.

Then he remembered something from last night.

“Dont tell Y/N , but I’m in love with her.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t mean it, he did. There was no question about it. But now he felt compelled to do something about it, considering he told her best friend he would tell her when he was sober.

Before he could do anything, Y/N returned with a glass of water and two aspirin. He took them from her hands, shoving the pills in his mouth and then chugging the water.

He watched as Y/N crawled under the covers beside him. He threw an arm around her as she snuggled into his chest.

Here it went…

“Hey Babydoll?”

She looked up at him with those eyes he loved. “Yeah?”

He opened his mouth to say those three words, but realized the moment wasn’t as right as he thought. He didn’t want to tell her like this, not when she deserved to hear it in a better setting than this.

So he smiled, pecked her lips and forehead and pulled her close to him as he began plotting.

#johnny knoxville x reader #johnny knoxville #jackass #jackass fanfic

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sleepywinchesters · 3 months ago

Note

for the smutty prompts— buddie somno? 🥺💕

Teeheehee (Also send me smutty prompts here so I can have enough dopamine to study)

Buck was exhausted. Bone deep, ready to collapse the second he found a non-floor horizontal surface. But it was date night. Working with your partner was great, except it meant that when work got busy there was no one there to pick up the relationship slack. So he was going to drag Eddie to dinner if it killed both of them, but he conceded the movie was probably a bad idea. No one needed to pay $40 to take a nap when they could do that at home for free.

Still, despite the exhaustion, Buck was glad to have time with Eddie that didn't involve work. They could talk about the weird fish sandwich this place had; wonder who would choose salmon and brussel sprouts when there was other options. Eddie fed him a bite of his pasta, chunks of crab and shrimp in a white sauce, and Buck sliced off a piece of his sandwich for Eddie to try. They had held hands over the table, waiting for the check, and kissed in the car for a while before heading home.

As Eddie pushed him up against the front door, mouthing at his neck, Buck pressed his hips forward and- yawned. Eddie pulled back, looking at him incredulously.

"Really?" he asked.

"Sorry. Sorry. Just well- you were there."

Eddie kissed him softly, backing off. Which is not what Buck wanted. They had talked about it before, playing with sex while one of them was asleep. The opportunity had never presented itself until now.

"I know. We can just go to bed. Have slow morning sex."

Buck groaned, pulling Eddie back so their bodies were flush.

"Or," he said, kissing Eddie's neck. "We can do what we were talking about a couple weeks ago?"

"Hmm?" Eddie was distracted, as Buck sucked on the spot behind his ear that made his brain go offline.

"We can get in bed, and you can finger me open and fuck me until I'm snoring then keep going."

"Really?"

"I've missed you. Want you in me, even if I can't stay awake for it."

Eddie pulled back, looking at him, seeming to assess his sincerity. He tugged Buck back into a searing kiss by the belt loops.

"Yeah. Yeah. We can do that."

"C'mon then."

Buck pushed him back, leading him to the bedroom, working his shirt open as he went. He knew Eddie would follow him. He got there first and had stripped down to his boxers when he looked up and saw Eddie leaning against the door frame watching him strip.

"See something you like?" Buck asked, teasing.

"Mmmhmm. Finish getting naked, Buck. and get on the bed."

Eddie pulled his own shirt over his head, and shoved his pants off, barely taking the time to undo his belt. Buck flopped back on the bed, digging around for the lube in the nightstand. Eddie tackled him, pressing him against the bed as soon as he had it. He bit down on Buck's pec, just to make him arch up into his mouth and moan.

"How do you want me?" Buck asked, stifling another yawn.

Eddie pressed their hips together, their cocks catching. Buck pulled him into a kiss that was more tongue than lip, tasting him, while Eddie ground against him. Eddie moaned as they lined up, velvet skin creating friction, smoothed only by pre-come. Now that he was horizontal, Buck could feel himself relaxing into the bed, eyes getting heavy.

The kiss got lazier as Buck settled. Eddie pet over his sides, soothing him, even as his cock twitched against Eddie's, and his hips moved of their own volition, seeking out more stimulus.

"On your side, sweetheart. Let me see that ass."

"Okay," Buck agreed easily, rolling over.

Eddie was pressed up against him immediately, cock sliding into the crease of his ass. Buck moaned. He needed more. Eddie was on the same page, reaching for the lube and popping it open, smearing some on his finger.

"Relax for me. Get comfy and let me take care of you. If you drift off, you drift off yeah?"

"Yeah."

Buck could feel Eddie's fingers at his rim, rubbing gently. The pillow was cool under his cheek, a delightful contrast to the hot line of Eddie's body against him. He closed his eyes and pressed back, wanting to at least feel his fingers before he fell asleep. Eddie obliged, pressing one in, the stretch enough to perk Buck up just a little. Enough to press back into the sensation. Eddie's hand wrapped around his hip, keeping him still. He pressed a kiss to Buck's shoulder.

He crooked the finger inside him, just a little, before adding a second and rubbing against Buck's prostate. Buck felt himself leak more pre-come, smearing on his stomach. He was comfortable though, thoughts wandering to how good Eddie felt inside him, how he was going to wake up in the morning to the feel of his come still inside him. No one else would take care of him like this while he dozed; no one else he would trust to.

Eddie was muttering against his skin, sweet nothings that drifted over Buck's consciousness, as Eddie stretched his hole. His whole body felt warm. He must have dozed off for a few minutes, because he roused when cold air rushed against his bak, and he groaned in displeasure.

"Hey, baby. Just getting some lube. Go back to sleep."

Buck was inclined to agree. He shifted a little, vaguely aware of Eddie coming back, pressing against him, lips against the back of his neck. He could feel Eddie press into him, splitting him open. Normally, he'd be pressing back into it, trying to get Eddie to go faster. Instead, he relished in the stretch, brain going to all the times they'd done this before.

Before he knew it, the slow roll of Eddie's hips had soothed him, his body going slack. Eddie watched his sleeping boyfriend, face peaceful, and almost stopped. He pulled out, only to have Buck, even in sleep move his hand clumsily towards him, trying to get him back in.

"Ok, ok. I got you. I'm so close, honey," he said.

Buck couldn't hear him, of course, but it kept him focused. A hot ball was forming in his groin.

"You're so good for me. I love the way you trust me, let me have this. Let me have your body. Gonna make you come without even waking you up. Bet I can do it."

Eddie moved his hips as fast as he dared. He could feel Buck start to come, walls clenching around him before his cock spurted. Buck groaned, enjoying the orgasm, even in sleep. Eddie wondered if he was dreaming. He paused, waiting for Buck's breath to even back out before thrusting a few more times, coming deep inside him.

Buck shifted closer, not letting him pull out. He stirred enough to mutter something Eddie didn't fully understand, but got the gist of.

"I got you. I'm not going anywhere."

Buck sighed, fully relaxing into the bed. Eddie got comfortable, sleep overtaking him too. If he woke up to Buck thrusting against him in a few hours. Well, they could both take what they needed.

#911 abc #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #yes this is so fun #and exactly my Thing #jess tag

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bullet-prooflove · 1 year ago

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The Halfway Point Part 3: A Safe Space - Angel Reyes x Reader (feat: Felipe Reyes)

Tagging: @witches-unruly-heart @keyweegirlie @annetje @infinity-mars @danzer8705 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @appreciatelove @the-wandering-lunatic @weiwei0210 @anime-weeb-4-life @multifandomloversworld @harperdoodle @est1887 @briefpersonenemy @creativitybeware @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @spaghettificationandpretzels @nu1freakshow @thebaileybugle @legally-a-bastard @oureternalbond @bonsaijoons @sclitvdes

The next day when you find Felipe in the rose garden you're surprised. You didn't expect him to follow through on his promise with the bench but it's seven in the morning and he's sitting on the damp grass alongside his toolbox and a small stack of wood, reinforcing the thing.

“Rotted through.” He tells you, showing you one of the slats. “It's a wonder you didn't fall straight through it.”

You think back to you and Angel last week. How he had made love to you on the grass instead of the bench because he was adamant it wouldn't hold despite the fact you were adamant it would. Felipe catches sight of your smile and shakes his head.

“I don't want to know.”

When you come by at again at noon with some water and some sandwiches for the older man, he's still sitting in the same place. This time though he has a paint tin perched next to him and a brush in his hand.

“Protects it from the weather.” He tells you in that gruff tone of his.

You sit and set down the collection of snacks and water bottles alongside him. He puts down the paint brush and covers the tin with the lid before stripping off his gloves. He doesn’t say anything when he picks up his sandwich and takes a bite, not even a thank you. You find it a little bit infuriating but you are determined not to let it get to you.

“Why do you keep it walled off?” he asks you thoughtfully, gesturing at the area around you.

You consider the question because there are multiple reasons, you’re just not sure which one to give him.

“Rose kush.” You say, tilting your head pointedly at the roses. “I use them to create the strain that grows in that field, they’re my secret weapon.”

“The real reason?” he prompts because Felipe knows when someone isn't giving him the whole story.

You pause for a moment because it’s not easy to discuss that sometimes the world gets a little too much and you buckle under the weight of your responsibilities. That sometimes you need a break from everything and everyone.

“Sometimes I just need space.” You confess to him. “A place that I can come to when everything gets a little too much. Being here around the roses, it just soothes me, it reminds me...”

You trail off, picking at the crust of your sandwich.

“Of what?” Felipe askes as he dusts the crumbs from his hands.

You swallow hard against the ache in your chest, because despite the fact it’s been a couple of years you still feel the loss acutely.

“Of when my Nana was alive. She was always this safe space for me, and I didn’t have that for a while after she was gone.”

There’s silence for a moment before Felipe breaks it.

“I still talk to Marisol.” He admits with a sigh. “Everyday I have my morning coffee and I tell her about the boys, things they've done, interactions we've had. I’ve not always been the best father but I'm trying because I’m all they've got right now.”

“I think you’re a pretty good one.” You tell him. Despite his gruffness you believe it, you think about the nights where Angel didn’t want to be alone after his mother’s passing, Felipe had still stepped up despite the fact he was grieving. They never talked about anything but baseball but it had helped Angel not feel so adrift. “You’re still present, there when they need you.”

“What about your father?” Felipe questions as he bundles up his rubbish. “Why isn't he here making sure that gate gets oiled?”

You shrug your shoulders.

“I don't know who he is.” You tell him truthfully. “I don’t even think my mom did. She was pretty wild. Left home at fifteen, followed a couple of bands around the country, came back one night and dropped a baby in my Nana's arms and took off again. She died when I was fourteen, she got drunk and took a header off a bridge in in Wisconsin, apparently someone dared her to walk along the handrail... the rest is history.”

“I'm sorry to hear that.”

He means it, he really does. No child deserves to be abandoned by their parent, no child needs to hear that drugs, drink and a good time are worth more than they are. Despite that you’re still seemingly well adjusted. He knows you’ve attended counselling; you’ve talked about it openly in your interviews.

“It is what it is.” You tell him, collecting the trash from him and putting it inside a compostable carrier bag. “It didn’t stop me from living my life, from going to college and becoming a botanist.”

“What about the farm?” he asks, his elbows coming to rest upon his knees.

“My Nana,” You explain, tying a knot in the top of the career bag. “She started off small in the sixties and then I helped legitimise it. I loved tinkering with plants, combining different things to see what the result was and that’s how we ended up with rose kush. It's helped a lot of people so far.”

“You believe in what you do.” Felipe states.

He respects that. It’s not often that you find people so firm in their ideals, that will stick to their guns when challenged but you do. You sincerely believe in what you’re harvesting and selling and he wants to understand that.

“I do.” You tell him. “I know you probably think I’m no better than the Galindos but this means something to me. The health care system is broken, and people can’t pay for their medicine and if Rose Kush brings them any kind of relief, then I’m glad for that. Until you have seen someone you love in agony, suffering because they can’t escape their pain, I don’t think you get an opinion.”

There’s a conviction in your words, he knows your Nana died of cancer, he can't imagine what it was like to watch someone you love waste away like that. In a way he’s glad that Marisol’s death was quick, even if he never got to say goodbye.

“Come to dinner tomorrow night.” He says both surprising himself and you. “Bring Angel. You can check on that rose bush, make sure it's taken to the soil.”

“Just to check on that rose bush.” You agree, raising to your feet. “Make sure you haven’t been neglecting it.”

“Give me a little credit." He mutters as he tugs on his gloves once again and removes the lid from the paint can. “It's only been a couple of days.”

“Uh huh.” You tease, lingering by the gate for a moment before you smile. “I'll see you tomorrow Felipe"

Love Angel? Get added to his tag list!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#angel reyes x reader #angel reyes x you #angel reyes fanfiction #angel mayans #angel reyes #felipe reyes mayans #felipe reyes

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neonponders · 2 years ago

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Part 33 for @wrecked-fuse ‘s pocketverse 🥬

Part 30 (main plot)

Part 32 (werewolf!Billy chapter haha)

( pt. 7′s art 🎩 ) ( pt. 9′s art 👀 ) ( pt. 14′s art 💨 ) ( pt. 19′s art 🦇 ) ( pt. 20′s art 🍳) ( pt. 27’s art 🦦 )

~ on ao3 ~

• • •

Billy parked in front of the Harrington house and tested the door. It opened for him and, given the noise of music and water drifting around the house, he knew where everyone would be.

He didn’t expect Chrissy to be here, but she smiled at him as she poured herself a lemonade. “Hey, Billy. Do you want a glass?”

“I’d love a glass,” he crooned, taking a seat at the breakfast bar and peeking outside. He could see Steve popping his head out of the pool, whipping hair and water off his face. Robin and Max sat at the table eating, the centerpiece being the littles’ pool.

Chrissy handed him the lemonade and said, “Mine and Eddie’s are here too.”

“I don’t see the big guy.”

“He’s got a D&D campaign.”

Billy hummed a disinterested sound as he sipped. “Right. I’m surprised his miniature let him go. Mine and Steve’s love board games.”

Chrissy smiled on her way outside. “I’ve got an edge to making the little bat behave.”

Billy slide off his stool to follow her outside. “I’m sure you do.”

The music wasn’t loud enough to cover the littles’ voices, allowing him to smile at little Steve and Chrissy waving up at him from where they stood next to the deli meats and cheeses. The former heralded, “Biwwy! Yourw home! No morwe work?”

“I’m done for the day,” he confirmed, taking a seat and feeling the warmth of little Steve’s hands on his fingers.

“Good, I’m gwad.”

“You know what? Me too, chipmunk. Hey, little Chris.”

Small Chrissy patted his knuckles. “Hi, Biwwy. We have a sharcoochie board, if you want some.”

That pinged off his brain like a pebble on a bell. “A what?”

Robin chuckled. “A charcuterie board. It’s like a disassembled sandwich.”

Billy absorbed that and obliged, “Don’t mind if I do. Thanks, Chris.”

She smiled and went to climb the ladder and join small Eddie at the top of the slide. Meanwhile, little Steve ran over the towel acting as a non-slip surface around the pool and called, “Biwwy? Gwapes?”

Small Billy sat in his donut float, relaxing over the water with sunglasses and not a care in the world. His head sagged to one side as if he just now noticed big Billy’s arrival. “Hey, Biwwy.”

“Share a grape with Steve. Lifeguard’s orders.”

“Why?” he groaned.

“Because you’re sluggish. You need the water and sugar boost.”

“I’m welaxing - ugh! ”

“CANON BAWLL!” Eddie cried as he held onto Chrissy down the slide. They made water splash out of the pool. Max’s chewing paused, annoyance fuming out of her nostrils at the now soggy bread of her sandwich. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world, since the littles swam in tap water, but it wasn’t great.

Big Steve emerged from the pool and cupped his hand underneath Billy’s innertube to lift him out of the water. “Lifeguard’s orders, little man. The temperature’s dropping soon anyways.”

Steve set him down, still lounging in his float, on the towel. Little Steve sat on the donut like a cushion with a half of a grape between them. Little Billy couldn’t complain as the grape did its job in rejuvenating him.

Steve toweled off his hair, raked it back off his face, and sat at the table while Max worked on rebuilding her sandwich. Around a mouthful of salami, Steve asked, “Anyone wanna play a game?”

Chrissy perked up. “I have cards in my bag.”

Little Chrissy seconded, “Poker?”

Billy’s eyebrows flew up. “You know poker?”

Her tiny shoulders shrugged. “It’s what they pway in the movies.”

But Steve offered a finger to help her out of the pool as he said, “Don’t worry. Your other Chris knows how to hustle in poker.”

Eddie lit up, flapping water off his wings as he jogged over the table to her. “Weally? Are you wich from winning?”

Chrissy laughed and shook her head. “No, but the basketball team lost to the cheerleaders in strip poker during an away-tournament.”

The littles didn’t really know what that meant, but Billy, Robin, and even Max guffawed at the news. Then Robin added, “I can’t believe I forgot about that. That poker tournament was better than the games.”

Steve coughed, “Uh, excuse you. It’s not our fault our games lined up with that one rival senior who’s contracted professionally now. We didn’t stand a chance.”

Billy smirked at him. “You might’ve if I’d gotten here sooner. Hell, you almost make me wish I had.”

Max posed a slack-jawed glare at him like she couldn’t believe a word of it, but had the sense not to say anything. Instead she finished eating, and instead of being dealt into the game, asked, “Can I use your shower?”

“Yeah, ‘course,” Steve disregarded, more so focused on little Billy walking over to him. Steve lowered his cards for him to see, and big Billy found small Steve with his eyes. Like he knew, the little guy looked up at him and smiled. Billy crooked a finger at him and fenced him behind his own cards.

Steve sat close enough to have his knee leaning against Billy’s, so the latter heard him ask his smaller self, “Wha’cha thinkin?”

Little Billy held his chin as he thought about it, and then silently tapped a queen of diamonds.

Steve nodded, “Good thinkin’.”

“Biwwy?”

He looked down to little Steve, eyes huge with telltale worry. “What’s up?”

“I don’t know pokerw much, but this hand kinda sucks.”

Big Steve kept his laughter in check, as did Billy while he leaned down to explain his strategy. He couldn’t be sure how much of it sank in, but small Steve could feel his confidence in his voice and his proximity. It made him feel safe and interested, so he hugged Billy’s cheek, “You’wre so smawrt, Biwwy,” and kissed him.

Then he gasped, “It’s not sweepy time!”

Billy chuckled and began to sit up. “You can kiss me anytime, sugar,” and pecked a smooch on top of his head.

He took a hand off his cards so Steve could wander freely, but he gazed up at Billy, galazy-eyed and rosy-cheeked as he waddled -

“Ooph! Sowwy, Chwissy,” he gushed after bumping into her.

“It’s okay, Stevie. Sit with me and Eddie?”

“Sure!”

Billy’s eyes lingered on them for a moment longer, until his littler self shouted, “We’wre gonna kick your ass!”

Billy sputtered but recoverd, “Oh, you think so?”

Steve intervened, “Poker face, honey bee. Poker face.”

“Oh. Right. We’wre totawwy kicking yourw ass but whateverw about it!”

Chrissy started laughing hard enough that she had to look at the sky to dry her mirthful tears. Eddie flew up to her face, doing his best to fan her with a piece of lettuce.

#*army crawls out of my covid cave*#please take this as offering orz #harringrove #wrecked-fuse #neonponders #like magnets #pocket!au #pocketverse #fic rec #chrissy totally wins

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saywhatjessie · 11 months ago

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coarse and rough and irritating

Day three of the Advent calendar! Using this list. Day 3: Beach Trip Fandom: Supernatural - Pairing: Destiel .6k[Ao3]

“Does this suck?” Dean asked, carefully holding his arms away from his body. “I feel like this sucks.”

Cas hummed, doing his best to wipe the sand off of Dean with a towel.

“Couple of beers, toes in the sand. Sounded great! And the toes in the sand is good but then it gets everywhere.”

“We could always get back in the water,”Cas suggested.

Deans snorted. “Easy for you to say, sun spot. My shoulders are already blistering. How was I supposed to knowI’d burn?”

“I would guess your freckles should have been some clue as to how your fair skin is susceptible to pigmentation.”

Dean grumbled again.

Cas stood up, draping the sandy towel around his neck, and pulled Dean into a kiss. Dean melted immediately, his hands coming up to grip at Cas’s hips, his fingers meeting the tacky sunscreen against Cas’s bare skin.

He whined, pulling away. “Why didn’t anyone tell me the beach was gross?”

“I’m not sure what about the beach is grosser than the normal human experience,” Cas offers, fairly, his thumbs brushing over Dean’s ribs. “But I imagine that everyone else was just happy to see you excited about something.”

Dean pouted, dropping his head against Cas’s shoulder. Cas hummed, bringing one of his hands up to cradle the back of Dean’s head.

It was the first time they’d made it to the beach after everything. First there was Cas being dead and then making Cas not dead, and figuring their shit out – both trauma shit and relationship shit – and then deciding what came next.

Was Dean going to leave hunting? Yes. (Mostly.)

Was Cas human now? Yes. (Mostly.)

Were they moving out? Was Dean going to live somewhere full time without Sam for the first time in his life? Yes. Definitely.

So they bought a house. They got married in the most official way they could in front of all of their family and friends. They started a life.

And they went on vacation to the beach: something Dean had been dreaming about his whole life.

And it sucked.

“I’ve sat in Baby covered in monster guts for a full fourteen hours and been more comfortable than this.” Dean complained, mouth brushing Cas’s coconut smelling skin.

Cas hummed again, kissing his hair. “We could always go home, Dean. Or we could see about renting a boat. Get the sea without the sand.”

“Still have the stupid sunscreen, though.” Dean sighed. “I’m hot. And it’s sticky. And my skin fucking hurts. And my beer tastes like salt.”

Cas rubbed his stubbly chin against Dean’s temple, squeezing him a bit more around the middle. “Dean, I think it might be time to accept that you are a creature of comfort habits who does not like the outside.”

“You calling me a bitch?”

“If you’re asking if I think you’re tough enough to deal with things that are unpleasant, I would say of course you are, you’ve been dealing with unpleasantness your entire life. But this is supposed to be a vacation. We’re supposed to be enjoying ourselves. Are you happy, Dean?”

“Here with you? Always, babe.”

Cas huffed his quiet laugh, rubbing his broad hand over Dean’s back. “Yes, you’re very sweet. But would you be happier with me on a couch watching a movie?”

Dean made a sound in his throat. “Can we order sandwiches?”

“We can order whatever you want.”

Dean sighed, pulling away.

“Yeah, okay. We can stay at the B&B, though. I don’t want to drive back until I’ve tried every all you can eat crab place on the strip.”

“Deal.” Cas smiled. “And when Sam and Jody ask about our trip at Christmas, I’ll tell them you were very tough and slept in the sand for days.”

Dean grinned, pulling Cas in for one more kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too. But you’re carrying the cooler: you said it would be lighter when we carried it back but you’ve only drunk two beers so it is not.”

#Destiel #spn #oops I wrote a thing #destiel fic #this is stupid

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michelleelizabethtanner · 1 year ago

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Okay but I'm rewatching good girls and in 4.9 they meet in the bar in the day, and Beth says the kids are coming home tonight. Rio and her get busy and then she's like....the kids will be home soon....how long did that love marathon go for bbbaaaaaahahahahahhaha. In my head they banged it out all afternoon until just before dinner lol. Okay I'll show myself out byyyeee. 😅

Ok, well if we’re gonna be scientific here, Anon…

We really need to study this scene in depth…

Just REALLY get in there and analyze it…

😭😭😭

I can’t quite decide what my headcanon is on this. Because what time do bars open? Whatever time it is, it’s either well before noon, or well after noon. Simply because the sun would be straight above them, not streaming in all romantically like that if they were anywhere near lunchtime. This is like a 10am sun or a 2pm sun.

Then in this scene here, see how his shadow is cast pretty significantly to his right? The sun has set further. So if I had to place money on a bet, I’d say she met him at the bar around lunch, brought him home and offered him a sandwich (for the lunch), got him into her bedroom around 1 or 2pm, and they went at it until the sun started to tip down. A couple hours maybe? Maybe three? They for sure did a lot. That bed was evidence. And Beth thought it was her LAST TIME. She would have wanted to do everything. Every-THING! That man would have had his mind blown. She would have gone completely feral.

Then, when Beth went and stripped the bed, cleaning away all traces of Rio, the sun looked to have set. Her bedside lamps were on and there was almost no light behind her bedroom curtains as she glanced at her absolutely destroyed bed. So maybe she was in the shower for 30 minutes, scrubbing her skin with the hottest water she could stand. Then went and got dinner started, made all the beds and did laundry while it cooked. And then she set the table, put on her Beth mask, and pretended all that detergent could scrub away the person she knew she was becoming.

#gg 2.09 #science #Beth was his lunch #good girls nbc #asks #headcanon #brio

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landosgirl97 · 2 years ago

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Take Care of You- Chase Stokes

Chase walked in to your apartment overjoyed to have time off for the holidays from filming and spending it with you and your daughter. “Babe?” Chase yelled. “Babe!” Still no answer. He made his way to your shared bedroom and found you under multiple blankets and shivering. He also noticed the many Kleenex’s littering the bed and floor, and the medication bottle and box of tissues on the nightstand. The baby was asleep in the crib in the room next to yours so he came to check on you first. “Baby?” He asked, shaking you awake. You groan in response. “Baby.” Chase said. “Yeah. I’m up. Is she crying?” He could tell your nose was red and your voice was scratchy. “No. Have you taken your temperature? You’re sweating.” “ How? It’s freezing in here!” You reply. Chase grabbed the thermometer out of the bedside table drawer and put it in your mouth. He went to go get a warm wash cloth to wash your face when he heard it beep. “Holy shit babe. You really are sick.” He said, knowing that you haven’t had a fever in years. “What is it?” You mumble. “101.4. I’m going to call your mom to take the baby so I can take care of you.” You just nodded and fell back asleep.

Chase woke you up later with hot tea and massage oil. “Roll onto your stomach and let me give you a massage. Then you can drink your tea.” Without a word, you rolled out of the fetal position onto your stomach. Chase warmed the oil between his hands and massaged you sore muscles in your back and shoulders. When you started to have a coughing fit he sat you up so you could breathe again. “Thank you.” You mumbled. He handed you the mug of tea. “Can you make me a sandwich?” You asked him meekly. “Of course baby. I’ll be back.”

You curled back up in bed and groaned. You whole body ached and you felt absolutely horrible. Chase returned with your sandwich and medicine for you. “ Eat and take this. I’ll get our movie started.” You took the medicine with the tea he had brought you before. But not before having another coughing fit. Chase was immediately at your side. Rubbing your back and placing kisses on your face once you had calmed down. He had started your favorite movie and crawled into bed with you. You curled yourself into his side and her ran his fingers through your hair and occasionally handed you tissues. He laid in bed with you all day and took care of you.

You woke up a few hours later really hurting and feeling even worse than you did. When Chase felt you move and heard you groan, he woke from his light sleep. “You ok?” he asked. “I hurt. Everywhere. I just hate feeling like this.” You let a tear slip out of your eye and down your face. “How about we check your temperature again and then run you a bath.” He went to run your bath water and you followed him into the bathroom with the thermometer in your mouth. The thermometer beeped and Chase checked it. “Okay, not as bad as before. But let’s take a bath.” He stripped both of you down and got in the bathtub. You got in after him and sat between his spread legs. Chase rubbed your shoulders and ran his hands through your hair. “It’s gonna be okay baby. We’ll just spend Thanksgiving break at home instead of going out. I’ll call everyone and tell them and we can always join via Facetime.” “But we’ll miss friendsgiving with the cast! And I won’t get to see your parents!” you said. “They will all understand. And maybe tomorrow you’ll be feeling better. Let’s just go day to day. Okay?” he said. You sigh. “Okay. I love you.” “I love you too babe.”

——

Tag List: @pankhoeforlife @maybankslover @bethoconnor @samxslaughter @tishanas-darlings @jjmaybank63 @outerbankspov @pankowperfection @hoebx @adventuresinobx @penny4yourthoughts

Masterlist

#chase stokes #chase stokes fanfiction #chase stokes x reader #outer banks #obx #outer banks imagine #outer banks fic #obx fic #john b routledge

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secret-cyborg · 4 months ago

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This one is from an anonymous gifter for Saffron_Eve!

The setting is a post adventure domestic fic, with everyone getting together to enjoy a campfire and all that it entails.

“And now I can tell you about the green ribbon, she said in a low groan. The last of her aching breath blowing towards him. Untie it, and you will see why I never could tell you. He felt sweat beginning to collect at the base of his neck, as he reached out and carefully- “

“Oh god, Albert stop, you don’t need to tell this one every time!” Francoise swatted at the air in front of her as he grinned at her disgust.

“Fran it’s not even scary, it’s sort of romantic in a way.” Joe chimed in, as thoughtfully as he could muster given her near squeal of detest.

“To who?”

She was so quick to answer in exasperated disbelief, that the trio found it hard to contain themselves. Chang and Pyunma sat just off to the side trying their damnedest to stay out of it, but it was getting harder by the minute. Pyunma twist and split oreos in half while Chang worked on artisanally scorching the outside of a handful of soft, fat marshmallows. Then they’d work in tandem to seal the cookies back up with the hot fluff just barely sandwiched between it all.

Joe smacked at the mosquitos circling the backs of his legs, and Francoise huffs between glances at the pock marks tracing his ankles. Jet follows her line of vision and his face sours. “Jesus Christ, did you put on any bug spray?”

“It’s doesn’t look that bad” he said sitting just a little straighter than before.

“Yeah, well it looks like you’re trying to smuggle marbles man.”

Pyunma blew air out his nose trying to stifle a laugh that knew too well when to leave, and tried to face the other end of their makeshift campsite. He bit down on his lips trying to stop it from going and further but even Albert had begun to laugh and it made it that much harder to stop. Joe fished around in a tote bag piled behind their folding chairs until he found the small can of spray.

“You are not doing that here, go over there and spray it” Chang practically spat at him between flaming exhales. “You do that here and guess what? All of this, tastes like DEET and we are not doing that again.” He motioned in wide circles in Pyunmas general direction, the memory of last years smores tasting more like propane than anything else after GB insisted on cooking over a grill. “Uh, right.”

Albert was practically grinning ear to ear as he pulled his phone up to his face and began reading the remainder of the story off his screen. The farther away Joe got, the more Francoise high pitched squeals and the guy’s laughter seemed to echo out into the early evening. He stopped somewhere between the campfire and the house they were all currently calling home, hoping the wind wouldn’t carry the spray too far one way or another and nearly drenched himself in it. Between the can rattling and the fizz of the nozzle he could just make out the slam of the screen porch side door.

Junior flagged him down with one arm, the other cradled Ivan who in turn simply stuck one of his arms directly in the air. “You guys ready yet?” his voice boomed over across the lot. “Yeah, they’re finishing up right now. How are things going with Great?”

“Gilmore is still working on him…” Ivan reaches out for one of the fingers Joe is wiggling in his face. “He fried up pretty well that one.”

“What is Gilmore doing to him?”

Junior smirked “Oh, you gotta come see” The pair walked back into the house following the sound of a wet slap, then a grunt. GB sat half naked and arched over a chair at the kitchen table, toes curling and heels pressing into the hardwood floors. Gilmore hovered over him; sleeves rolled up to his elbows fishing out long strips of paper towel from a bowl of milk. “Here’s the next one” he said before slapping the strip over Great’s hot, red, and by tomorrow leathery skin. He looked like a dumpling with a near transparent wrapper, or like what Joe imagined the early stages of a silk worm making a cocoon would be like. Little beads of milk trailed off his shoulder blades and pooled onto the floorboards.

Great turned his head slightly if not painfully over his shoulder when he heard giggling. “Knock it off already, will you? I learned my lesson, no need to rub salt in the wound.”

“And another” Gilmore called out before laying down the next section of soggy paper towel. Great winced and as sorry a sight it was Junior and Joe couldn’t help but watch the thick white goo spread across his face and ears jiggle with every movement. “You know the sun block only works if you wear it before you get burned.”

“Oh, har har, that’s right get them in while you can. While a fellow is down, quickly now get them in. What will you do next eh? Call the tabloids? Alert the media if you find it so funny, I’ll wait, really.”

“That’s yogurt” Junior tried to answer between rolling laughs “Anything will work so long as it’s got fat and it’s dairy.”

“Last one” GB’s head shot back around with the soft smack against the patch in the middle of his back. “All done.” Gilmore said matter of fact as he carried the bowl back into the kitchen and began pouring the leftover down the drain.

“What’s next?” GB called out to him; a bit too aware of how tight he was holding his shoulders.

“It needs to sit for a while.”

“Pray tell how long is a while?”

“About an hour or two” he said while wiping the milk off his arms and hands.

“An hour? What the hell am I supposed to do for an hour? You lot are trying to eat without me!”

“I said a bath would have been faster-”

“So did I”

Gilmore nodded, “Junior and I both said a milk bath would be faster and what did you say? Something about feeling like a biscuit? Well, we’ve done it your way and now you’ll have to wait and join us.”

“Well will you all at least promise to save me some?”

Gilmore thought for a moment “Now you know that isn’t up to me, we will see how Chang feels.”

Great felt the weight of the day heavy on his shoulders, as he recalled every instance of Chang’s nagging to apply sun block throughout the day. He even remembered Francoise offering and even heckling Jet over the large swatch of thick cream he slathered on his nose. Egg on his face now it all seemed. He mulled over which was better in this case, sitting it out empty stomached or trying to withstand a critical blow from Chang’s repertoire of well-meant talking-tos.

He wilted in his seat and it sucked the joy out of Gilmore’s teasing. Junior handed off Ivan to Joe and began rummaging through the kitchen drawers. To Greats shock and the others humor, Junior came back out with several boxes of cling film in his hands and began pulling out long sheets.

“Oh no” GB started to wonder if sitting inside was really so horrible after all as the film was wound around his wrist and slowly up his forearms. “Oh, you can’t be serious”

“I told you; a bath would have been the easiest” Junior told him as the roll wrapped around another time.

It was incredible, simply incredible GB thought, just how persuasive this man could be with a roll of plastic wrap.

“That night Ruth took a hot bath, and as she soaked the spot burst! Then out poured a swarm of- “

Francoise pushed the wadded-up blanket she had draped over her lap into Jet’s face in an effort to smother the end of the story out of him. She pushed it half-heartedly into a face that had begun laughing once she lunged towards him. “I told you! I told you! One more of these bullshit stories and I was going to do it! You just had to try me!”

The group laughed over the crackle of the fire and the thump of the pair falling out of their chairs and onto the dirt. Francoise yelped and started pounding her fists into his chest while Jet nearly wheezed from how mad she was getting.

Gilmore passed a large aluminum baking tray to Pyunma, picking up one of the culinary abominations he’d only seen on late night home shopping network programs. Slotted somewhere between all the other needless kitchen knick-knacks and overly branded gadgets. They would call it whatever they wanted but filleted oreos with a burnt marshmallow a smore did not make. But it would take him one…or five before he could probably explain why.

Pyunma in turn, passed the tray to Junior who was chipping off bits of cookie to hand feed to Ivan whose cheeks were already powdered in what looked like soot. The pair gave up an hour or so ago at keeping his hands clean, the damn things kept getting sticky the moment they looked away.

Chang was next, and he similar to Junior was breaking the cookie into chunks and tried to feed Great out of the palm of his hand like a horse. Whatever embarrassment would come from that was already far outweighed by the sheen of his cling wrap coat and his slowly caking yogurt mask. He was thankful at least that in the night they couldn’t get a good enough gander at all the details.

Albert leaned across GB’s lap to take the tray from Chang and quickly nudged it onto a laughing Joe’s lap. They watched as the pair stopped wrestling long enough to get back into their chairs. Jet covered in dirt practically all over his back and Francoise with it all over her shins and somehow even a few twigs tangled in a large knot on the side of her fringe. Her chest heaved with the ridiculousness of it all, catching her breath and feeling so frustrated at these back-to-back gross stories. If they were genuinely scary that was one thing, but high jacking the evening to talk about the most deranged and disgusting stories were beyond her.

As she calmed down it became apparent no one else had started a new story, and she felt a bit worried that she killed the mood. Though when Francoise glanced around the fire everyone was looking at her and trying very obviously, or maybe very badly more like it- to hold in a laugh.

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