iwnlu4droml

[strawberryblondebutch]

before the season starts, do you have predictions based on the current rosters/draftees? who do you think will be standout players? who might have the best season? etc etc

Making me flex my creds after a couple bourbons, I see you!

The Good: Boston is the team to beat this year. They didn't lose any of their stars this year (to retirement or free agency), they got my No. 1 pick of the draft in Hannah Bilka, and Frankel/Soderberg still make the best one-two goalie tandem in the league. The only question mark on the roster is if the new-look D corps can take some of the pressure off the goalie.

Montreal didn't tweak much of their roster, nor did they have to. ARD is aging out of her prime, but you've got a window there with her, MPP, and Stacey that you need to maximize. Hope that you can get a draft seed that doesn't rematch you against Boston and maximize what you can get from your role players. O'Neill was sneaky good last year and is only 26.

The Bad: Toronto is going to regress. You can bookmark this and come back to clown on me if they get the top seed again, but I don't see the pieces lining up for a second year in a row. Campbell isn't a strong enough goalie to stand on her head every game, and they were carried by an offense that will take a hit as Spooner works her way back from major surgery. I don't expect her to hit the wall as hard as, say, Tyler Seguin did after his season from hell a couple years ago, but you never want to be in a spot where your sparkplug is a step behind. (At the time of this post, Toronto also only has five goalies under contract, which... remember what I just said about Soupy standing on her head? Yeah.)

Ottawa has one big regression candidate as well, and that's Maschmeyer. Masch not only has the most mileage on her body from last season (not her fault, Abstreiter was working through injury) but she has a newborn at home, and I anticipate the Cole Hamels problem coming into play. Hamels, for those who didn't follow the Phillies in the late aughts, had a newborn at home right before the 2009 playoffs and suddenly forgot how to pitch, because he was sleeping maybe two hours a night. I think the Charge knew Masch was primed to take a step back, and that's why they swung for Gwyneth Philips in the draft. Philips was lights out in college - not sure how she'll adjust to senior-level play.

The Ugly: Let's talk about the elephant in the room that is Minnesota. A title hangover is real, and it's made worse by the behind-the-scenes drama. When I say that I expect Britta Curl to be a liability for the Frost, I'm not just talking about her Twitter personality. I had the misfortune of watching her on the Badgers for five years, and she may have decent counting stats, but I noticed a selfish, whiny player, which carried over her to her national team play. On D, you're expecting Clare Thompson to be a major contributor after an extended break from competitive play. The one good thing you can say about Minnesota is that Heise is finally healthy. You can't tell me that AC injury wasn't bugging her the back half of last season. I do think Taylor needs to add one step to her game, and it's physicality. A lot of that was being snakebitten by injury, but she has the frame of a power forward, and she needs to be throwing her weight around like Knight does.

And, last but unfortunately least... New York. For what it's worth, they will get a Fillier deal done now that they've indicated they're open to a shorter contract. I really like the Schroeder/Levy tandem. The coaching change will do them well. Now that I've given them their flowers, I need to be mean for a second. The Sirens do not have a player who can quarterback their offense. I love Alex Carpenter deeply, but she thrives as a second choice. She buries the greasy goals that snipers and true playmakers leave out for her. Abby Roque is the same way. That was my worry about taking Fillier 1OA - Princeton fucked her up. They took a dynamic, play-driving forward and made her a passive floater. Now she's on a team of people who hang around the zone, waiting for something to happen.

Players to Watch: I'm excited to see what Izzy Daniel can do with competent players around her. Her counting stats in her Patty Kaz year weren't great, but that'll happen when you're dragging along a husk of a team. Minnesota must have seen something in Hymlarova that I didn't. I've watched a lot of St. Cloud State hockey, and they're. Well. Not terribly great. Brooke McQuigge was sneaky good for Clarkson, perennial thorn in the rest of the NCAA's side. Elle Hartje has a good hockey IQ and 200-foot vision (though she doesn't solve New York's dynamo problem). Anna Wilgren adapted very well to Mark Johnson's system last year, which shows an adaptability that will come in handy in the pros.

[blametheeditor]

In lieu of a new year, do you think we can have the FNAF Bois and the BATIM Bois celebrate? They deserve a happy break from the tortures of their lives. (Also g/t if you could)

You know what Anon? That's a fantastic idea.

Content Warnings: cursing, mentions of death, mentions of murder, mentions of violence, fireworks, being scared of loud sounds, mentions of illegal activities, smoke-bombs

_______________

David wasn’t thinking much of the New Year holiday. 

For him, it simply meant ensuring all of his paperwork was filed properly. Dot his i's and cross his t’s type of deal. 

Now don’t get him wrong! He celebrated in his own way once that was done. No parties, or watching the countdown until midnight, and absolutely no lighting fireworks like certain dumbasses. But he does relax, stays home for a few days, opts to wear the one set of comfortable clothes he owns, prideful of everything he’s accomplished to get to where he is. 

Of course, he’s David Harrison. That’s his way of celebrating. And a year before, he couldn’t care less about how those considered his coworkers acknowledge the fact they’ve survived another year. 

Now, becoming fond of those who make his life hell after joining the ‘Fazbear family’ wouldn’t be the right word, but he’s certainly become tolerant. A little curious when he notices the topic of a New Year party or fireworks never came up despite December 31st being right around the corner. 

So he goes to Fritz for information. 

“I need to make sure you’re not going to blow yourself up after setting off illegal fireworks.”

Out of everything he expected, a full on flinch wasn’t something that crossed his mind. 

Neither would feeling hurt from such a reaction a year ago. Not when he called humans like his redheaded employee pests, or pets when he was feeling gracious that day, never watching where he stepped despite the fact someone only two inches tall could easily be hurt by such carelessness. 

After a year of growing close to Fritz, admiring his work ethic, respecting him for not quitting despite all of David’s words and actions, he’s afraid the feeling creeping through him is devastation. 

“I hate fireworks.” 

Thank fuck.

“You hate fireworks?” David repeats, needing to make sure he heard the softly spoken sentence correctly. Though one glance over at the figure standing on his desk staring up with eyes wide with fear at the second mention says he did. “Aren’t teenagers like you supposed to love them?” 

Fritz’s voice goes even softer. “I live right next to a giant neighborhood.” 

David stares for a moment in the attempt to figure out what exactly that means considering how broad the statement is. Anywhere to being worried about the potential fire hazard to- 

“The noise.” 

“It’s an...experience,” is Fritz’s extremely generous comment to the fact his eardrums could burst simply because someone didn’t heed the strict rule of not lightly something as deafening as fireworks near a human neighborhood. “But hey! I’ve survived this long! Extremely good earplugs, ten blankets wrapped around me, and boom, the explosions are dampened!” 

The smile not quite reaching his eyes state it’s hell. 

David shouldn’t care. Yes, he appreciates one of his best employees, but it’s not the business man’s problem. Shouldn’t live right next to a giant neighborhood, should’ve found better ways to prepare, etc. 

“We’re meeting up at Mike’s.” 

Fritz stares at him as if he spoke another language. “Tonight?” 

“No, dumbass,” David smirks as he nudges the teenager is the silent demand he gets back to work. “New Year's.” 

. . .

Surprisingly, every giant was on board with the idea. Yet somehow, the humans were against it. 

“I don’t need help with fireworks,” was Scott’s response, glaring to make it clear he was offended at the idea of people caring about his well being. 

“How bad can they possibly be?” was Eggs’ idiotic statement because this would be his first year after having lived deep inside a human only district his entire life before. 

“I-I-I've got M-Mike,” was Jeremy’s answer, and by far the only acceptable one. Not to mention he’d be the safest considering he lives in an apartment complex for both humans and giants. Residents who are respectful and considerate of the smaller counterparts they live with. 

“I-I’d like to light fireworks!” 

David face-palms as Mike grins at Caleb’s innocent response. Not that they can blame the eight year old, but the look being given by Scott says he’s chancing surviving the night at his house if even human sized fireworks are lit at the restaurant. 

“It’s settled. We’re staying here tomorrow night.” 

“It’s not settled,” Scott all but snarls. “I’m going home and staying home without any meddling giants.” 

Eggs taps his chin. “I’ll come if he take Caleb’s suggestion of lighting at least one firework.” 

“I-I-I-I-I don’t w-w-want fireworks,” Jeremy states. Looking adamant about his requirement. 

And Caleb beams up at them as Fredbear is nearly strangled. “I’d settle for a smoke-bomb.” 

That’s when Vincent bursts out laughing. “This is absolutely precious. The best part is David came up with this idea.” 

The business man bristles. “What’s that supposed to mean.” 

“Well, a year ago, you wouldn’t have even realized just how terrible fireworks are for humans, nor would you have cared,” James begins, not even blinking at the seething glare aimed toward him. “Now, you’re trying to protect even the most stubborn.” 

“So?” 

“It’s called character growth.” 

“It’s not. It’s called me not wanting any dumbasses bitching about how they lost their hearing the night before and can’t work.” 

David hates the smug yet not-smug expression on their horror guard's face. “Why isn’t Fritz a part of this conversation?” 

“He’s staying with me at my house where there’s a strict rule of no fireworks if we weren’t meeting here.” 

David absolutely despises the multiple looks of surprise at the statement. 

“I said I didn’t want any dumbasses bitching about not being able to work!” 

“I vote smoke-bomb!” Eggs exclaims. 

“Smoke-bomb’s o-o-o-o-okay,” Jeremy murmurs. 

Scott shakes his head. “Enjoy your night, I’m going to be home.” 

Everyone looks toward Vincent at that, the purple man’s hands raising to state he’s not forcing his best friend even if it’s for his own well being. “You heard the Scotty.” 

It’s better than nothing. 

. . .

“Come p-pick me up.” 

David’s foot freezes mid-step at the voice coming through the phone. He takes a moment to take the device away from his ear to confirm it is Scott currently talking to him. 

“Are you sick or something?” 

“I’m s-serious,” the eldest guard stutters, and once his mind finally catches the fact there’s desperation in the tone, he’s quick to make a small adjustment in his path toward the restaurant. “Someone lit a God damn firework right before I got inside, and it’s still l-light outside, so I thought I’d be safe-.” 

All David can think about is how quiet Fritz got when they were just discussing it. Hearing Scott sound so shaken... 

Look, he doesn’t care about the human, but he’s not denying he’s sending Mike to the neighborhood to kick whoever’s ass did it. 

“Why me? Couldn’t you have bothered Vincent?” 

Scott snorts and he can hear the smile in the man’s voice. “Did you forget your own plan? He’s kidnapping Caleb while James grabs Henry’s group.” 

Right. He did actually forget about the soldier and everyone who’s had a similar experience to them when it comes to a madman with a syringe being their employer. Again, not fond, but it would’ve been cruel not to invite them considering they’re all human. Were trapped in literal hell for 30 years and therefore don’t really remember the outside world. Specifically dumbasses with fireworks. 

“I’m on my way,” David mutters, sighing once he reaches the part where the human residence start, leaving him to gingerly step on streets barely big enough for him. He’s only done this once, and this time he’s promising to never do this again. Make the human come to him- 

BOOM!

The business man jumps at the loud explosion, gasping in terror when it feels like he might lose his balance. 

“Fuck!” 

He heard it from two ears. His left one, facing the direction of the firework that went off in a giant’s neighborhood only a hundred feet away. And his right one, currently listening to his phone call with Scott. And it was Scott’s side that caused him to scream in pain. 

As everything dies down, and his heart isn’t racing nearly as much, and he didn’t fall while standing in the middle of a human neighborhood, he can practically hear Scott shaking. 

“Scott?” 

“Hurry.” 

He was only two steps away. And the moment he knelt down someone comes racing out of a familiar house. 

David didn’t know what to expect. He shouldn’t have thought their embodiment of ‘look don’t touch’ wouldn’t just fling himself into a hand. But the idea of a blanket being tossed across his palm never popped into his head. Nor did Scott bundling in another one before very slowly crawling over his fingers. 

“C-Cup your hands.” 

He does as he’s told. Ensures the miniscule figure is a version of comfortable before placing one hand over before cupping them tightly in the hopes it helps in blocking out anymore of those fucking fireworks. 

He’s honestly a bit terrified as he finally spots Freddy Fazbear’s. There weren’t anymore explosions, but he’s currently holding Scott with Vincent guaranteed being back by now. 

He doesn’t know what’s worse. Having the mutated grape hold the door open so he knows exactly when the knife in the back will come, or their resident nerd opening it so he has no idea when the knife in the back will come. 

Actually, no. James full on blocking the door is worse. 

“Sorry sir,” the horror guard begins. “We’re closed except for employees.” 

“Dumbass, it’s me.” 

The closest they’ll get to emotion ever appearing on the man’s face flashes in the form of confusion before David’s eyed up and down. “You don’t look like yourself without your suit.” 

“Let me in,” the business man growls, carefully nudging the shorter without jostling Scott to strut inside. “Don’t bring it up again. This is my one night off.” 

Eggs actually spits out his water once the giant reaches the table. “Are you wearing a fucking hoodie!” 

A glare is given toward the blond as he opens his hands. Yet instead of Scott springing out of his grasp, the human stares up at him. “How did I not notice you wearing a hoodie?” 

“Off.” 

The blankets are snatched up. Not even a second later, a blur of red dives into his hands instead as Fritz shivers uncontrollably. He doesn’t say a word as the teenager is held against his chest protectively. 

“That’s every fucker,” Mike announces. Doesn’t comment about Wally currently yelling from Vincent’s chest pocket. Nor Henry expertly pinning Eggs to the table after the blond attempted to tackle him. “To the office, assholes.” 

David’s allowed to be unimpressed with the set up on bean-bag chairs and blankets all having been collecting dust in the restaurant's basement for who knows how long. But he doesn’t say a word as he pulls one away from the pile to claim. Raises his eyebrows as Vincent sprawls on one with Scott looking happy bundled in his palm. Smirks as James ‘dumps’ everyone not claimed on a chair of their own. 

“Ross help!” 

“There’s no helping you, Franks.” 

“Lahrence you asshole!” 

David rubs Fritz’s back as the redhead jumps as the doors suddenly slide shut to seal them off completely from any booming fireworks, the power set so it won’t be running out until the night is over. 

It’s no relaxing in his expensive house was he enjoys what the year brought, but he can’t say he hates it. 

“So, what about that smoke-bomb?” 

“No."

[bunnys-kisses]

daughter dearest

simon 'ghost' riley

cw: smut/pwp, implied age gap, price's daughter!reader, daddy kink & daddy issues, simon still works under price, doggy style, hair pulling, a tiny bit of choking, manhandling

bunny says: good girls end up in heaven, bad girls end up with simon

he was so handsome in that sleek black car of his. with the tinted windows, you could see that he was in the driver's side as there was a bit of cigarette smoke coming out from the open window.

you were quick to get out of the house that you lived with your father. you had a night bag over your shoulder. in a cute little skirt and an even cuter top. you were the beloved daughter of captain john price.

but tonight, you were simon's good girl.

you and simon started up a "relationship" around the christmas party last year. it was harmless flirting. he was stubborn and you got right under his skin. of course this ended with him tossing you into the back of a jeep on base and fucking you until you couldn't even form your own name.

since then you've been simon's pretty little thing with an age gap to raise an eyebrow out.

the drive to his flat wasn't long, but the entire time under the cover of night, he had his large hand on your thigh. he palmed at the skin and muscle. his fingers dug into them, which made you whimper from his strength.

scary.

but simon would never hurt you. even as he kept a protective hand on your lower back. his lips were on your neck with you pinned against the wall of the elevator. only to pull away when the doors opened to let in more people.

there was little formalities when you both got through the front door of the flat. even as you tried to undo the laces of your shoes, simon was over you with his large hands on your hips and his cock up against your ass.

"you dog." you whined as you managed to get them off.

when you were standing back upright, you felt the strength of your boyfriend's chest against your back. then soon his strong hand was loosely around your throat.

you whimpered.

"whatcha call me, princess?"

you whimpered, 'sorry, daddy." you didn't want to hear about the long stretched of absences your father did when you were going up made you seek out older men to pleasure you. you didn't care to know!

he held your throat for a moment then leaned in to kiss your jaw, "good girl. i'd hate to take you through training again."

your daddy issues to culminate into a bratty attitude, especially around base. simon had to 'train' you, which meant everything from spanking to time outs. it meant having cum covered panties and giving his head in public bathrooms. you'd behave, simon hated brats.

he always felt the need to break 'em.

you were a good girl for him, most of the time. so when he picked you up like you weighed as much as a bag of potatoes and tossed you on the bed in the bedroom.

you bounced on the bed before simon was on you, he pulled at the clothes on your body. you managed to get your phone out of your pocket before he started to almost rip your clothes off your body! you felt your cheeks heat up from the feeling. you were stripped bear and grabbed by the hair.

he gave it a good yank and you felt wetness between your legs. you felt like such a whore, but part of you loved when being strong men used you to their pleasing.

"your daddy isn't going to like when i bring you home and ya got cum runnin' down your leg. when ya walk a lil weird and can't sit down. make sure your old man knows what i've been fuckin' his sweet little princess."

you whimpered as you ended up on your hands and knees with your ass in the air. your core throbbed as he got his cock out his thick black jeans. it was a hefty cock. thick all over with breeding balls.

his cock was shoved without much prep into your slick hole. you jumped but his larger body kept you pinned to the bed. his cock felt like a heavy weight between your legs.

your buried your head in the pillows and arched your back. you entire body felt amazing from the feeling of his thrusts. your cunt ached with want for your boyfriend.

"that's my good girl. see, maybe m captain is right. maybe he does have the most perfect daughter in the world." simon's words were harsh but they made you warm all over.

"daddy please." you moaned as you felt him slap you across the ass. your body felt hot all over as he continued to fuck you. this wasn't sex, this was fucking. he was pushing all of his length, stuffing you full of him.

so you'd know when you gave your old man a hug, that a piece of simon was still in you.

you'd be a riley soon enough.

"please, ah! please!" you whined.

"i got ya, princess." his pace was brutal, it almost brought tears to your eyes. it made your stomach twist and your cunt soaked.

you soon could hear your phone ringing on the nightstand, but simon's cock had made it impossible for you to find the strength to grab it.

"who's that, love?" simon asked in a gruff voice, "is that your old man callin'? better pick up." he held you by the waist and leaned over you to grab it. it was still ringing.

you took it with weak hands and answered it, "hi, daddy." you tried to keep your voice steady but the way your core was throbbing from simon's heavy thrusts.

"where are ya?" your old man asked.

"oh! remember, i told you i was staying with a friend tonight." you tried not to moan or seem like something was off. your father was painfully smart, it was hard to get anything past him.

"right, right. that girl you go to school with? tiffany? rachel?"

your voice was a little tight when you replied, "andrea." you felt simon pull at your hair which almost made you cry out, but you just had to keep it together for a little while longer.

"right, right. well, ya got a ride home to come home?"

you swallowed and bent to simon's will, "yes, daddy. i'll be home around 2!" you squeezed your eyes shut

there was a pause, "are you alright, sweetheart? sound a little sick."

you grit your teeth for a moment, could the old man just stop yapping? you replied, "no, daddy. i think i'm just really tired. we- we went for a hike earlier, just worn out!"

simon gave a silent chuckle as he continued to thrust, worn out was right. he wanted to slap your ass, but you were squirming enough as it was.

"alright, i'll see ya tomorrow. remember to come home early enough so we can have dinner together. love ya."

'love you too, daddy." you voice cracked a little as you felt yourself on the edge of your orgasm. you hung up the phone and you looked over your shoulder, but simon pushed your head back into the pillows to fuck you into the mattress.

"that's a good girl." simon growled, "i know he's your father, but i'm your daddy." he bruised your hips with his feverish pace.

you arched your back and clutched onto the covers tightly. your head was pounding as you felt the pulse of warmth through your body. your mind was a mantra of his name. "fuck, daddy!"

simon chuckled and slammed his hand down on your ass, "that's what i like to see, princess. i love how you feel against me. tight cunt, thick thighs, chubby hips, my fuckin' dream."

you whimpered as you tensed up. you climaxed and as you reached your peak. everything else went dark in your head before you ended up face first in his soft bed. the smell of your lover was polluting your head as he had you bouncing on his cock.

"now that's a good girl." simon purred, "now let's give this cunt what she be needin'." with a few more jolts of his hips, he finished inside of you. his cum spat into the back of your womb with purpose.

he wanted to see it leak out all over your pretty pink panties come morning. but that might take a few more rounds.

"look alive, princess." he said as he tapped your face a little harder than you liked, "not done with ya, yet."

but you had all night.

-

the next morning, you came home and greeted your father with a kiss on the cheek and a cheery smile. when you went upstairs, price though he caught the glimpse of a bruise on the back of your thigh, right where your skirt ended.

but he looked away rather quickly and crossed his arms. he said, "glad ya had fun, sweetheart!" he was a supportive father, he loved you! you were his beautiful daughter.

little did he know that under your skirt was two large purple hand prints from his trusted lieutenant. <3

[imprfctlyok]

good things

logan howlett x reader

Summary: You and Logan hadn't had sex in weeks, and now that you had a bit of alone time celebrating your anniversary, you figured it was time to make it up to each other.

Warnings: afab!reader, MDNI, smut w/ plot, pet names (bub, princess, doll)

Aromatic herbs and garlic wafted throughout the house as you sat on the counter watching Logan cook.

If someone had told you in the past that you'd be living with this gruff, angry man, settled down and watching him make you dinner, you would have laughed in their faces. The man in front of you was definitely not the same one you met a year ago, but keeping him company as he prepared your anniversary dinner was definitely something you could get used to.

You swirled the red wine in your glass around, studying the strain of Logan's muscles under his white wife-beater. It had been so long since you had touched him, felt the lines and ridges of his arms and chest. Work had made it difficult for you two to find...alone time. By the time either of you made it home and into bed, one of you (usually Logan) would be too tired to start anything. You didn't say anything, because you were also tired, but also because you knew how much he needed the rest. Being in such a close proximity to him now, with nothing but time on your hands...it was too tempting.

Logan turned around, a slight smile growing on his face as he leaned on the counter and picked up his glass of wine. By no means was he a wine drinker, but today was a special occasion, and so he swallowed it down if for nothing else but your own sake. "Almost done doll. Ten minutes and then we can eat."

You clicked your glass against his and downed the rest of your wine. "Cheers to that. I'm starving. Wanna..." you trailed off, sliding your empty wineglass towards him, "...fill me up?"

A mischievous glint flickered in Logan's eye, but he didn't rise to your bait. His gaze never leaving yours, he slid the bottle of wine over and poured more in your glass, leaning just far enough over the counter to give you a kiss on the forehead with a dark chuckle. "Thirsty bub?"

You took his intense staring as a challenge, leaning back in your chair and lifting your glass to your lips, sensually tipping the liquid into your mouth. "Parched."

A smile formed on his lips. Shaking his head, he turned his back towards you again, gathering the dirty cooking utensils to dump into the sink. You were 100% certain that the wine must have been making you overzealous, because your before your brain could catch up with your movements, you had slipped out of your chair and padded to the other side of the counter. Logan stiffened as your set down your glass and snaked your arms around his midsection, pressing your face into his back.

"What's this?" he asked jokingly, spinning around to face you. His strong hands immediately found your waist, gripping them firmly as he pulled you closer.

"Lo," you said, so quiet it was almost a whisper. "We've both been working, and we haven't...it been a long time since we...you know."

Hesitation crept over his face. "Bub, I—"

"Logan, please." You reached up on tippy toes, pressing small kisses into his jaw. "I've missed you."

With a show of strength that made heat pool into your stomach, Logan lifted you up and set you on the counter, nudging himself between your thighs. The breath was stolen from your lungs, and that familiar ache in your core that you had pushed down for weeks returned.

"Princess," he whispered, his breath fanning against your ear. "There is nothing more I wanna do right now than fuck you right here on this counter. It's all I've been thinking about. But you've been working hard, and I'm sure you're tired. You need rest."

He's about to pull away from you again, but before he can, you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him in, the buckle of his belt catching on the crotch of your jeans. He sucks in a breath and you arch into him.

Your lips ghost over his jawline, and you can't help the whimper that slips from your lips. "Please."

One, two, three seconds of hesitation before his hands are under your ass and hauling you into your shared bedroom. He drops you onto the bed, hands gripping your thighs, your hips, your tits. A gasp escapes you as he grinds into you, his hard cock hitting your clit so deliciously.

"Fuck," he groans, dropping his head against your shoulder as he rolls his hips against you. "Haven't had you in so long princess...haven't even taken your clothes off yet and you feel so damn good."

Your hands trail up his chest, down his back, as you arch yours looking for any sort of contact. Logan's fingers found the button of your jeans, making slow work of undoing them and pulling down the zipper.

"Do you know how badly I've been needing to taste you?" He slowly strips your jeans off of your silky legs, making quick work of your shirt next. "My baby, spread out all pretty like this—fuck—"

He trails a finger down your stomach, dipping the digit beneath your panties. A wanton moan slips out, your voice catching as his middle finger dipped into your folds, collecting the wetness pooled there. "Fuck, Logan—"

He pushes his finger into your mouth, effectively shutting you up as you lick and suck the taste of yourself off of him. His eyes never left yours, his gaze so dark and intense that it had your mind reeling with inappropriate thoughts. For weeks, this was all you had been wanting—him.

Pulling his finger out of your mouth with a pop, Logan slide down your body until his face was directly in front of your cunt. You gasped as the tip of his nose brushed your clit, your hips jolting forward to grind on his face, searching for any sort of contact. He laid his strong arm across your hips, caging you in and holding you down.

"Ah ah, patience doll. You've waited three weeks, what's a little longer?" He inhaled your arousal, hands gripping your thighs and prying your legs apart. You couldn't help but moan, him being so goddamn close to touching you where you need it.

"Besides," he added, pulling your panties to the side and looking up at you. "Good things come to those who wait."

a/n: AHHH MY FIRST FIC ON HERE FINALLY DONE! this is seriously a moment for me bc i haven’t written fanfiction that flowed so easy and genuinely enjoyed in a looooong time. i hope you like it!! lmk if you want a part 2?? lol

[wyvernest]

open arms | fantasy AU

pairing: witcher*!miguel x f!reader

> In Sapkowski's works, "witchers*" are beast hunters who are given supernatural abilities at a young age to battle wild beasts and monsters.

warnings: smut, fluff, dryhumping, unprotected piv, cowgirl & a bit of missionary, mentions of possible infidelity, slight angst at the end? very slight

summary: miguel returns to the reader after months of wandering the Continent, and she welcomes him with open arms

Every time you hear a horse trotting on the stone-streets of the village, your heart flutters wildly in your chest. Maybe it's him.

Only most of the time, it isn't. It's always just a soldier or a tradesman. 

No. His arrival is incomparable . When it's him, the whole village echoes with the deep, steady sounds of his horse's galloping. He never slows down, until he reaches the very wooden gates of the settlement. Comes by with a storm, a strong gust that then leaves as swiftly as it arrived.

And sometimes, you almost wish another monster would start terrorizing the village. Nothing too perilous, of course, but grave enough so that the guards wouldn't try to take care of it. So that they'd wait for a Witcher.

But alas, it stays a dream. He has for sure found some other fairer maiden in the south. Yet you're still here, unwed and long-time devoted to such a cold hearted man.

But how can a cold heart hold you so? How can it make you feel so warm, so adored? Must be some kind of sorcery.

And despite your unfruitful attempts to forget the hunter, on one gloomy evening, you couldn't help but jolt to your window at yet another horse clanking its hoofs on the pavement. 

Your heart races. A cloaked man. You can't see his face, but his stature is very telling. It can't be him. He gets off his horse. He enters the tavern across the road.

You release a breath you hadn't realized you were holding in your chest, mentally slapping yourself for running to see who it is so hastily. You'd almost want to smack him for all the cold months he's made you endure without him, without a single word from him.

But you can't. Whatever’s holding your hand back is stronger than any pale vengeance, it's what made you rush to your window, what now made you run to your bedchamber to pick and choose your prettiest outfit.

It's nearing midnight when you hear a confident knock on your door. Formalities. He knows he could kick the whole frame down in all courtesy and you'd still jump in his arms. 

You try to act surprised.

“Miguel!” You tear yourself away from your working table, just for a second before stopping in your tracks. 

What if he doesn't want you anymore? And he's come to grace you with the very news of it?

He rushes to you instead; one, two strides and he's across the room with his arms around you. Not with a teary, hearty expression, but with the desperate, deep sigh of a man who had finally filled his lungs with fresh air after being buried in ice cold waters for years.

“I've missed you, I-” 

You wanted to go on about how you were first afraid he'd found someone else, then how that fear turned into an image of him falling in battle, but he stopped you.

With his face in his big, warm hands, his lips meet yours in an almost barbaric kiss. If you hadn't had him in other ways before, you'd swear he was a man starved. But you're aware of how patient he can be. Sometimes.

He tries not to break it, but it's slightly difficult with his left hand now down your back and his right clutching your prettiest skirts to the back of your thighs as he lifts you up with nearly frightening ease. 

His steps almost shake wooden floorboards of the house as he enters the bedroom, with you glued to his chest.

Your hands are running through his hair, a feeling you've missed so ardently. Your palms, with nothing but the memory of his soft, raven strands in them, used to feel as if whipped with burning lashes, where loving his touch had been.

“I need to have you. Let me have you,” He speaks in your face, his voice dripping with a roughness you've only ever heard from him after a hard won fight, tired yet still potent. 

In response, you start twisting your delicate fingers into his collar, as if you could simply drag the garments down from him. Not before a scorching heat blazes in his eyes at your acceptance, he places you on the soft mattress and starts ridding himself of his armor. Pretty light one, you mentally note. Bastard, he knew he'd be coming to see me. Came half ready.

As his tanned body starts coming to the warm light of candles, you study his form. He had changed. His shoulders are bigger, his arms are thicker. As a whole, he looks stronger. Your panties soak at the sight.

He sits on the bed and places you on his lap, pleased with himself, and you suddenly feel as meek and shy as you were the first time he had you.

You feel him heat up beneath you as your lips explore each other in the most tender yet passionate dance you never thought you would need the same way you need air.

The softest of moans echoes in your throat, encouraging him to push your thighs apart over his groin. Hot palms run over your middle to the swell of your ass and back to your shoulders.

The hardening bulge in his pants brushes onto your bare, glistening pussy, and he feels your slickness through the thin material.

You try to take the reins with kisses on his cheeks and neck while slowly grinding on his crotch. He can't help but send a rough smack on your ass, smirking at your surprised yelp.

“I like having you all over me like this.” he admits as you drop your weight on him, no longer supported by your elbows, relying on gravity itself to mould you together the best it can, two desperate lovers mangled into each other’s limbs like roses sprouting upon the same rod.

A faint smile blooms its way onto his lips, his heavy-lidded, crimson eyes inescapably drunk on you. He’s looking at you like you’re his very heart and soul, the last slither of hope for life in a place filled with nothing but death. A reminder for him that his hands were not only meant to break necks and bathe in blood, but to love and hold you, so dearly, so perfectly.

Heart swelling with joy and sincere infatuation, you seal your lips with his, urged by an uncontrollable impulse to taste him as if he’s the oxygen you need to breathe. His lips feel soft and tender as they move against yours, hands naturally snaking to cup his face and hold him in the dearest way you can.

The moment you break away you feel utterly intoxicated. His now rock-hard dick nudges at your pulsing cunt, begging for your attention.

Lifting yourself from him and untangling his sturdy arms from around your waist, you lower your dripping cunt onto his still clothed erection, anchored with a knee on each side of his ample thighs. He watches closely, hypnotised by the way you begin rubbing yourself onto him, the outline of his cock grazing back and forth between your folds without entering you.

He fails to restrain a grunt which you can only mirror with a whine of your own as his dick twitches against your clit, your legs nearly abandoning you at the memory of the orgasms he fucked out of you on the other nights, when he came banging on your door less tired.

Something downright filthy about the picture stirs you further, driving you to submit yourself to his pleasure completely.

He grabs at your hips, guiding their sway, making little to no effort to claim you, having you simply dry hump him for sport while he’s comfortably laying back on the soft cushion.

That only until he finally deems your performance enough to satisfy him, and twists you around, fucking you into his mattress until you're soaked in his come, you imagine.

You grind against him at an idle pace, rising and falling onto his raging boner, beads of precome already staining his pants where his tip presses against its confinement. Placing your hands on his navel, you feel his feverish skin and the trail of coarse hair that disappears below the waistband.

The featherlight touch of your fingers slipping underneath his shirt makes him dizzy and unbearably needy. You start rocking your hips back and forth over the length of his hard cock, using his firm abdomen for support.

His eyes follow your movements, the languid strokes of your hips and the soft bounce of your tits underneath your night dress.

Warm, large hands creep up your sides, skating beyond the dip of your middle and up beneath the cotton of your one and only piece of clothing.

His palms tense just below your heaving breasts, their touch unbelievably addictive. You automatically arch your back to lean closer to him, wordlessly imploring him to put an end to his teasing.

“Take it off, 'wanna see your tits.” his eyes motioning for you to undress and throw the garments anywhere across the room. You feel your face heat up and cunt clench at his bold request.

Without any protest you comply, managing not to halt your grinding while your arms cross over head, disposing of the top while missing the way his pupils expand at the sight.

His hands latch onto your breasts accompanied by a hitched breath of yours, fondling and squeezing them together, veins bulging in his massive arms.

Right when you try applying a tad more pressure onto his leaking cock he grunts, signaling you to carry on just like that. You abuse the newfound weakness, glancing down only to be met with the broad head inching out of his pants with every drive of your hips. It twitches into the snug warmth of your damp folds, a telltale warning that he's close.

You speed up, confident that you may finally witness his climax without the drowning haze of your own. The dream swiftly dissolves into euphoria as he grabs your waist, swiftly switching positions and getting on top of you.

He enters you harshly, and his thrusts are furious. He doesn't need much more to reach his end, as he guides you into raw, carnal bliss, the girth of his dick spasming along your damp pussy adding to the tightening knot in your womb.

The frail bed creaks and trembles under his force, as his head comes down to nestle in the crook of your neck, his whole body nearly veiling you completely.

He comes with a thunderous groan, kissing your neck with tender, wet lips before slipping out and letting himself fall back lazily on the bed.

You're quick to nestle yourself beside him, head on his heaving chest.

“I've missed you.” he rasps, ever so slightly gasping for air.

“Where have you been?” you speak softly, yet you accentuate the question by running your hand over his toned chest, then up by his jaw, hoping it'll break him.

“Everywhere I was needed.” he takes in a deep breath, “Everywhere but here.”

You chuckle, tightening your embrace, as much as you can. Even though you're well aware the whole town will probably throw you dirty looks for months after seeing him yet again enter your house at the hour of the wolf, you didn't care.

You even found it in yourself to feel lucky with his visits. With him. You hadn't given yourself to any other man in town, other than him. But he wasn't from here. And that made him burst with pride.

“You sure you haven't been messing around while I was gone? Am I gonna have to fight a godless bastard for your hand?”

“Have you been messing around?” you ask, with pleading eyes, glistening in the low light. He looks down at you.

“I might have gotten a bit lonely at times.” He jokes, and although something stings you harshly at the thought, you decide to trust him. Miguel was many things, but a dishonorable man wasn't one of them.

You playfully push him away, just an excuse to feel the meaty muscles of his arm and stomach in the process. As if you needed an excuse.

"I'd fight any witless whoreson if it meant having you for myself properly."

You fall into slumber soundly, lulled by the soft yet raspy sound of his voice, whispering sweet nothings to you about all the things he would do, if only he wasn't bound by his lifelong duty.

I WANNA WRITE MORE WITH THIS CROSSOVER ‼️‼️

[genshinwomenontop]

"Even after Centuries later"

☆Prompt: Cloud Retainer and your love story. You're an Adeptus as well.

☆Warnings: Fluff, just fluff.

For as long as you can remember, you've been by Xianyun's side, even when Ganyu was a baby. While she wasn't an expressive person, she did always made sure to show her love to you in ways that only you understood. You're love story with Xianyun was a tale to tell among the people of Liyue. The story of the two Adeptus that loved each other since Liyue was created.

You were the only Adeptus that dwelled among the humans, not only that, you wanted to keep an eye out for Shenhe and Ganyu. When the girls were babies, both of them being babies at separate time, you were the one who always pampered and loved them, and the only Adeptus to understand humans. Though Shenhe was not used to that kind of treatment, she had a different level of respect and love for you.

Since the war, the Adeptus decided to live in the nature, not wanting to dwell the humans but you choose to stay, and live alongside Rex Lapis. Xinayun didn't like that, she couldn't bare the thought of being separated from her beloved partner but she never told you, nor did she express it in anyway, but loving her so long made you understand her even when she wasn't doing anything.

Xianyun was also quite the jealous and overprotective type so when she heard that you've been having lots and lots of attention lately, she had to go down there.

When rumors went around that a beautiful lady came into Liyue, during the Lantern Rite, you had no clue who it was, but Rex Lapis, or Zhongli did, he did not tell you,he waited for that every scene to unfold. You and Ganyu were walking around Liyue, with Shenhe trailing along. The city was peaceful and harmonious, something that the Adeptus fought so hard to achieve and because of you, it was kept that way. They don't call you the 'sustainer of peace' for nothing.

You and Shenhe was accompanying Ganyu to pick up a perfume from Yinger and she had a very strong attraction towards you. "Ah Ms. Y/n, you are looking lovely as the morning sun~" she approached you and held your face.

You smiled and gently removed her hand,"Thank you Ms. Yinger, I'm actually accompanying my dau-I mean friend to pick up something that Lady Ningguang had ordered?"

"Ah yes the perfume. I'm sure that something is going on since she's been ordering so many perfumes lately, but let me get that for you lovelies~"

When she ran off to bag the perfume, Shenhe chuckled, "Well that's five for the morning."

"Master Y/n has been getting alot of attention lately. I wonder what cloud retainer would think if she saw this," Ganyu giggled along with Shenhe, both of them imagining what Xianyun would do.

"Girls,you do have a wild imagination don't you?"

Yinger came back and handed you the perfume. "Well, here you go. It was lovely giving it to you. I do hope you can return the favour," she winked as you walked away.

"That woman..." you sighed.

Ganyu and Shenhe left for the Jade Chamber and you sat down with Zhongli, a sigh escaping your lips. "A rough day friend?"

"Oh dear, don't get me started. Has anything changed about me Zhongli?" He sipped his tea as he hummed.

"You have gotten alot attractive these last few days. I can see why you've been getting this much attention. Don't you like it?"

"I mean... I... I don't know. Its nice and all but every time I smile or say something nice back to someone, I can only see Cloud Retainer. It's like she's watching me from the mountains."

"How long have you seen each other?"

"For almost two years. I've been busy!"

Zhongli's eyes drifted behind you before returning back to you. "Don't you miss her?"

"I do. But I can't go now, she'll sense something is wrong and begin questioning me. You know how inquisitive she can." You sipped your cup of tea.

"One certainly is not inquisitive!" You spat out your tea and let out a scream. Zhongli laughed as you saw a very angry cloud Retainer behind you. She was in her human form.

"C-cl-baby! Hello!"

"Don't baby me. Do you like these attentions that are given to you?" Her arms were folded, and she glared at you.

"I-no! I don't..." As an Adeptus, you weren't afraid of anything. Anything except your wife.

She sighed before relaxing and taking a seat. "Re-Ehem, Zhongli. It's a pleasure to see you again. One was concerned with your well being."

"Xianyun. Its good to see you as well. Y/n here has been missing you quite alot these days."

Xianyun opened one eye and she stared at you. "I doubt she has. With all the attention she's been receiving and accepting, I don't think she misses me one bit."

"My love don't say that."

Zhongli smiled as he watched the two of you bicker back and forth. "Hmmm, just like old times."

The three of you sat down and caught up. Zhongli told Xianyun how the human world is like and to say she wasn't pleased was an understatement but having you by her side will help her to cope. Zhongli bid goodbye to you both as you took Xianyun on a walk and since it was night, Liyue looked even beautiful but nothing could beat the beauty of your wife. "One can feel your intense gaze." She said as she smiled slightly.

You held her hand as the two of you went to Mt. Laixin, using your adeptal powers to get there. "You're beautiful. Keep staying in this form will ya?"

"Ha! So you are implying that my animal form is not beautiful?"

"N-no that's not what I meant! I meant to say that you're beautiful and that this form suits you well. I can even get to kiss you and hold you properly." Xianyun blushed and adjusted her glasses.

"Hmmph! If you insist, I shall remain in this form. I want to settle down in Liyue Harbor for a couple of years. I would like to engage in the human world and their daily activities."

The two of you took a seat on the grass, admiring the big moon. "Well the human life isn't hard once you get to adapt to it. I'll even help you." She nodded as she kept admiring the moon.

"Do you remember our wedding night? That night certainly hasn't left my mind," she chuckled. That night, the two of you showed each other how much you really loved each other. You even used your adeptal powers to give you a male genital to please Xianyun.

"I do. It's one of those nights I'll never forget."

"Since one will be staying here... can we do it again? And this time, let's try for a child." You stared at her with wide eyes.

"H-huh?"

"I know you are not incapable of hearing. I request a child from you."

"Really? I-I... that's-that's great news! I'd be more than happy to have you bear my child!"

You lifted her up and twirled her around as she let out a small squeal. "This is amazing! We can finally have a child! I can't wait! Let's start tonight!"

Before she could protest, you were already on your way home, using your powers you got wings and you held her bridal style as you flew home. Xianyun gently grabbed your face as she admired your features. "I love you y/n," she pressed a kiss to your cheek with a small smile.

"Well I love you even more. Even after centuries, my love for you never faded and it never will."

[floras-imagination]

guitar hands 🎸✌️- matty healy x reader

summary: You can no longer hide the longing obsession for your best friend matty's hands... word count: 3.8k warnings: 18+ smut, fingering authors note: It's been ages since I've written a fanfiction, so this one might be a bit rusty. I hope you enjoy it, though.❤️ Part 2

"I can't do this anymore!", you gasped as your best friend Matty opened the door.

You walked in quickly as he opened his mouth, to greet you, but you cut him off before he could say anything, leaving him standing in the doorway, staring at you in surprise.

"I will never date anyone ever again!", you turned around, looking at a very confused Matty who was still holding the doorknob in his hands.

You pointed your index finger in the air to emphasize your words, "And this time I really mean it, so don't you dare laughing!", you frowned furiously in his direction, in a way that Matty finds terribly cute. It's a facial expression you often make when you're mad and Matty can't ever hide his little smirk when he sees you like that. But this usually makes you even angrier, which Matty doesn't mind because, obviously, he loves it.

Sometimes he even teases you a little bit to see that fuming, adorable glance of yours. But he always chooses his words carefully to make sure he doesn't hurt you with anything he says.

You threw your black bag in the corner before plopping down on the couch in his living room, crossing your arms in front of your chest. Still frowning, you focused your eyes on the floor in front of you.

He closed the door and slowly made his way over to the couch. His hair was messy and a few strands of his curls hung over his forehead. He looked a bit drowsy, like he'd just woken up from a nap.

"Well... hello, love.", it was finally his turn to speak. His voice sounded low and sleepy.

He rubbed his left eye, before placing the palm of his hand on his cheek, "It's nice to see you...", he continued.

You didn't say anything.

He sat down beside you, admiring you with a big smirk on his face. Suddenly, he seemed less and less tired. You could literally see the sleepiness leaving his body as his smirk grew wider and wider. In his head, he counted down the seconds, well aware that his silly smile was going to drive you nuts in less than five seconds. One, two, three, four...

"What?" you spat at him, turning your head to your right to face him. "Can you please stop doing that?" you asked, finally relaxing the muscles of your forehead.

"Doing what?" he giggled back at you. The "what" sounded more like a "wha". You've always had a weakness for his strong British accent. Hearing Matty talk gave you a weird feeling inside your lower belly, a feeling you've been trying to ignore ever since you first noticed it.

Matty and you had been best friends since year 9. You met him on your first day of school, just a few days after you and your family had moved from New York to Manchester. After the teacher introduced you to the class, Matty offered to give you a tour of the school. You were extremely grateful to have such a friendly classmate as Matty, and the fear of spending every break alone promptly vanished as he never left your side during breaks, welcoming you into his circle of friends.

You must admit you found him attractive, and he became even more appealing over the years. But he never made any moves that could suggest he wanted more than friendship, so you kept convincing yourself that this wasn't what you wanted either. You somewhat accustomed yourself to the idea of never getting closer to him, which made it easier to live with your hidden feelings. It has been ten years now, and sometimes you were so adept at denying your feelings that you even started to believe the lies you told yourself. In the meantime, you also had a few boyfriends and situationships where you completely forgot about your feelings for Matty due to being preoccupied.

Sadly, each of your relationships turned out to be exceedingly toxic, which made it difficult for you to focus on anything else. You constantly worried about not being enough or being too much. Days without arguments and tears were extremely rare, but Matty was always there for you.

"Oh come on, you know what I mean"

He was about to say something again, but you didn't let him.

"Looking at me like that when I'm mad. It's not funny, Matty! This is a serious situation!"

"A serious situation? Oh, okay. Well, you already said that a few weeks ago, when you came home from your date with that other bloke... Wait, what was his name again?", he paused for a moment as he touched his chin, looking up at the ceiling, pretending to think. After two seconds he gave up, because he really didn't remember the boy's name.

About 10 months ago, your boyfriend of two years broke up with you. It was a tough time for you, but Matty had been incredibly supportive. He let you sleep at his place on nights when you didn't want to be alone, which was almost every night for about a month and a half after the breakup. You cried a lot, and your best friend held you throughout the entire night, calming you down and making sure you had someone to talk to. The two of you shared a few restless nights during which neither of you got much sleep. However, cuddling was nothing new or special since you've been doing this ever since you became close friends. Matty has always craved cuddles from you, especially during movie nights or casual hangouts. You didn't read too much into it, presuming it's a normal thing best mates tend to do, but little did you know that he's been hiding his feelings as well...

When you eventually started to feel a bit better, Matty encouraged you to download some dating apps because he said something like 'the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.' That's also how the singer tried to get over his crush on you. He hooked up with numerous girls over the past years, desperately trying to feel something similar to the affection he feels in your presence, yet each trial remained unsuccessful.

You decided to give his advice a shot, and it was actually an excellent way to distract yourself from your aching heart. Though you didn't have much luck with your dates, you were at least able to get over your ridiculous ex.

"Anyway," he shrugged, "It doesn't matter."

"I don't remember his name either," you said dryly, still not averting your gaze from his face. Matty immediately turned his head to the left, now looking into your eyes as both of you burst into heavy, heartfelt laughter.

"Come here, darling..." he laughed, raising his left arm to pull you into a lovingly sweet hug.

He loved having you around and spending intimate and funny moments like this one with you. Seeing you heartbroken and sad broke his heart into a million little pieces. Lately, he's been struggling a lot with his self-control, not knowing how much longer he'll be able to keep his longing feelings for you a secret.

As you lay in his embrace, head resting on his soft, comfy chest, he snuggled his nose into your freshly washed hair, which smelled like a huge field of spring flowers.

"You wanna tell me what happened?" he mumbled against your head.

You were now completely relaxed, feeling happy in the lovely arms of your friend. "The date was horrible," you laughed, starting to tell your story. "We met up for dinner, and he was talking about himself the whole time! How he goes to the gym every single day... and it was just gym, gym, gym... and then he asked me if I did any sports, and I said no, and then he was talking some kind of bullshit again... but I wasn't even listening anymore at this point," you tittered before continuing, "Then I wanted to order some ice cream for dessert, and then he told me how unhealthy sugar was..." you couldn't stop yourself from laughing.

"No, really?" Matty laughed, still holding you tight. "What did you say then?"

"Nothing. I just grabbed my bag and left."

Matty threw his head back, roaring in laughter. "This is my girl. I'm proud of you," he breathed heavily. "I have ice cream in the freezer. You want some?"

You immediately jumped up at his words. "Yes! Please!"

He got up from the couch, preparing you a bowl of ice cream in the kitchen.

He strolled back to the living room, carrying the cold bowl in his hands. You found yourself lost in your thoughts, admiring his large, delicate fingers. You called them guitar hands, since you've seen plenty of other guitarists having these kinds of hands, but Matty's have been your favourite. The mere thought of his agile fingers touching your neck or thighs caused shivers, leaving your whole body covered with goosebumps. In your dreams, you imagined them slowly unbuttoning your jeans, gently sliding into your panties to...

You briefly shook your head, forcing the end of this forbidden daydream, after staring at Matty like you've just seen a ghost.

"Are you alright?" he questioned, throwing a rather puzzled glance at you.

"Hm...what?" you uttered, shaking your head once again. "Yeah, yes, I'm fine. I was just... nevermind," a slight chuckle left your lips, masking the huge amount of shame you felt.

"Honestly, why was I even mad?" you snickered, trying to change the topic as he handed you your much-needed dessert. "This is just so hilarious. But anyway, I meant what I said earlier. I won't go on any more dates," you licked the spoon delightfully, "I'm done. From now on, I'm going to enjoy my single era alone."

For a very brief moment, a smutty thought crossed Matty's mind as he saw your tongue gliding over the back of the spoon you held in your small, soft hand. He pushed the thought away quickly.

"Whatever makes you happy, love. I'm just glad you're finally over your ex. You were too good for him. You deserve so much more than that," he declared, fantasizing about being the man by your side, knowing you well enough to meet all your unique needs.

"Yes, I know. I don't know what I saw in him," you agreed. "But let's just forget about it, please."

He smiled, pulling you into his arms to place a peck on the side of your head. The Netflix logo popped up on the big flat screen in front of you as Matty turned on the TV. "You wanna stay with me tonight?" he asked his best friend needily, in a romantic, cuddly mood. It had been a long time since your last sleepover, and he was desperate to have you near.

Your right cheek was already pressed against Matty's chest as you were sleepily nestled in his hug, mumbling your answer "Guess you already took that decision for me, didn't you?"

"Yep," he stated, resting his head on yours. Though he couldn't imagine anything better than lying there with the one person he loved, his gracious smile was tinged with melancholy, as he couldn't shake the doubt that you would never reciprocate the depth of his feelings.

--------------------------

You found yourself waking up alone in the soft embrace of Matty's bed, the night still cloaking the world outside. With a sleepy sigh, you shifted beneath the covers to get up. The door stood slightly ajar and the enchanting sound of a guitar drifted into the moonlit room.

You opened the door, following the echoing noise of music that came from the living room. Matty was sat on the couch with a guitar on his lap, wearing his blue nike sweater. His messy curls tangled all over his forehead, making him look so effortlessly handsome in the gloomy warm light of the fairy lights hanging from the bookshelf.

He was so deeply focused in playing, he didn't even notice you already stood in the living room. Seizing the moment, you took the opportunity to observe him, particularly captivated by the way his hands deftly fingered the chords on the guitar, moving with such grace as if they were dancing in silent harmony with the music.

He looked up to see you standing in front of him, adoring your dozy appearence as he stopped strumming the strings of the guitar.

"Morning, sleepyhead", he greeted you in the usual flirtatious way. "I couldn't sleep. Wanted to work a bit on that new song. Was it too loud?"

"No, it's fine. It sounds good. Can I listen?"

"Course you can. Sit down", he demanded with a grin on his face as he continued playing.

You loved the sound of Matty's new song and even though you tried your best to concentrate on the rythm of the music, you couldn't help yourself from staring at his hands again. The way his fingers nimbly glided over the fretboard, made you think about all the other things these supple hands could do to you. A sinking feeling of guiltful embarassement was spreading inside your stomach. You hated having these lustrous thoughts while sitting in front your best friend.

While you were still submerged in your shameful thoughts, Matty slowly emerged from the trance he typically falls into when he plays the guitar. His gaze drifted over to you, curious about what you were thinking about the new piece. He observed you for a moment until he realized you were absentmindedly fixated on his left hand.

Recalling a similar situation from earlier that day, he recognized the same expression on your face as when he had brought you the bowl of ice cream.

He stopped playing, causing you to look at his eyes as your consciousness returned. "Is anything wrong with my hands?"

"What? No, why?", you raised an eyebrow, snickering nervously. "What could be wrong with your hands?"

"You've been staring at my hands again!"

"I don't know what you're talking about. When did I stare at your hands?"

"Well, just now? And earlier when I gave you the ice-cream?"

"I haven't!"

"You have! And it's not the first time I caught you doing that..."

"I was just wondering which chords you used", you declared, visibly annoyed.

"You're such a bad liar."

"No, it's true!", you tried to defend yourself.

"Ah, so you were staring? "

"I wasn't!", your voice grew louder and louder. You weren't angry at him but at yourself for not being careful enough. What if he finds out about the feelings you'd been trying so hard to hide all these years? What if your friendship ended right now, right here, in this night? The enormous weight of fear and sadness settled like a lump in your throat, making it hard to swallow. You had to swallow though, since you already felt tears coming up that needed to be hidden at all cost. It was impossible for you to gulp without making a noise as the lump of woe was already way too big to be swallowed in secret.

"Gaslighting...", Matty teased in a lighthearted manner instead of being serious or mad. He knew he was right, especially now that you seemed so offended by his question.

"Okay, that's enough. I'll go home", without hesitation you bolted upright from the couch.

Matty immediately reacted by grabbing your wrist with his right hand, while still seated on the couch, holding the neck of the guitar with his left one. You turned around to face him as he was looking deep inside of your eyes. Contrary to your expectation he was still far from being furious. You caught a glimpse of him still holding the D chord as your eyes darted around. His thumb rested on the e string, tightly gripping the guitar's neck.

"It's quarter past midnight. You're not going anywhere", he stated with a slight chuckle, his playful demeanor both infuriating and comforting you. He endeavored to soothe your frayed nerves, but his touch and gaze left you feeling uncomfortably giddy, leaving you unable to think straight. You swallowed hard, meeting his piercing stare.

As Matty's intense gaze locked onto yours, he felt the floodgates of longing burst open within him. No longer did he bother to conceal his desire.

'Now or never', he thought to himself, 'do it, you muppet!'

With another firm grip on your wrist, he summoned up all his courage, guiding you towards him with a sudden movement as he finally crushed his lips onto yours. After years and years of dreaming about this exact moment, it now became reality. And it felt even better than both of you could have ever imagined. Setting the guitar aside, he placed it to his left on the couch, drawing you closer. Pressing you gently against the cushions, he positioned his body on top of yours, eagerly seeking your lips again.

In the next thirty minutes you were having your long awaited make out session, filled with lots of wet and fiery kisses along with tender, passionate touches.

No words required, Matty was overjoyed and now well aware of the fact that you returned what he felt for you. Even though Matty didn't mention a single word, you knew it too.

"I love you so much, baby", he confessed, right before he started to work his way down your neck, placing gentle kisses on your soft skin, "I've been meaning to do this for ages"

"I love you too, Matty", you whispered, still not knowing if you were awake or dreaming.

As he was passionately devouring you, he could feel your body trembling while lust was written all over your face.

"I didn't expect you to have such a dirty mind, though.", he smirked against your neck.

"What do you mean?", your voice was shaking.

"You haven't answered my question yet"

"Which question?"

"Why you're so obsessed with my hands...",

"Matty please...", you whined.

"What?", he asked as his lips were still clung to your neck, "Tell me what you want me to do with my hands"

You gulped as feelings of overwhelming embarrassment came flooding over you again.

He slowly moved his hand from your back over your chest, sliding it down your belly, causing you to shiver even more. He stopped at the button of your jeans, resting his hand on your waist as he peeked up to lock his gaze with yours. With fluttering eyes you glanced down at him, wondering why he stopped. The intense craving for having his fingers inside of you became unbearable.

While Matty was grinning from ear to ear, finding pleasure in torturing you with his teasing touches, he raised an eyebrow at you.

"Please, Matty... I...", you stuttered, still not being able to speak properly.

"Tell me, love"

"I...", your words came out as a faint whisper, "I need you. Matty, please..."

"Where?", he whispered back at you.

"Inside me...", you finally gave him the words he wanted to hear, not caring about another wave of shame that was crashing all over you.

Not waisting any more time, he unzipped your jeans, slowly making his way into your slip. By the time his soft fingers reached your clit, you closed your eyes, throwing your head back in deep pleasure. A heavy moan left your mouth, as you were electrified by his heavenly touch that you've been craving so desperately.

"No, no, no, no, no!", he complained, "I want you to look at me."

The inability to move made it impossible for you to follow his command.

He tightened the grip between your legs as he repeated his order, "I said look at me!"

Continuing his teasing game, Matty was about to pull his hand back out of your pants, due to your disobedience, but you immediately stopped him by grabbing his hand to keep it in place. "What are you doing?", you questioned, wanting him to continue what he started.

"Uhm.. pulling my hand out.", he answered casually with a shrug, pretending it wasn't part of his little game. His plan worked out immediately when you looked at him with that cute, furious frown on your face.

"No! Why?", you protested.

Matty leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear, sending shivers down your spine as he whispered "Because only good girls deserve to be fingered by Matty Healy."

"But..."

"And you aren't one", he gently pecked the skin of your neck again.

"I am", you moaned in response to his soft kisses.

"Don't think so. If you were, you'd do what I say"

"Please Matty stop teasing me now! I can't take it any longer"

"Hmm... seems like someone's being really needy...", he kept on playing with you, "will you be a good girl for me now?"

"Yes, Matty. Yes, I will", you answered impatiently.

"Then look at me.", he said as he carefully put his hand back between your legs and this time you were following his command, being the good girl he asked you to be, though it was definitely not easy for you to keep eye contact with him.

"Now you are being a good girl. I want you to keep looking at me, okay? Will you do that for me, darling?"

You nodded in response, "Hm... yes."

All of a sudden he pushed his middlefinger inside you, causing a loud moan from you.

"That's what you were thinking about when you watched me play guitar, isn't it?", he gently whispered in your ear.

"Maybe...", you admitted between your lusty moans.

"I knew it.", he smirked, "Couldn't quite believe it though..."

"Hmm..", you hummed as he continued his skillful work with his fingers, beaming you into another dimension of reality.

While listening to your ravishing moans he kept on talking, "My best friend is a dirty slut. Unbelievable. But I'd be lying if I said i didn't think about you every time I wanked.", he winked at you with a dirty smile, roughly jabbing another finger inside your dripping wet pussy.

"Matty, I... I think I...", you stammered, having difficulties to breathe.

"Yes baby, cum for me, please", he permitted, but you were already collapsing in heated pleasure as you eventually broke the eye contact, letting your head fall onto his chest, gasping for air.

With his free arm, he hugged you, pressing your body tightly to his own. He gave you some time to calm down while you were catching your breath, before he slowly pulled out his fingers, bringing them up to your mouth, so you could lick them clean. "If that was part of your phantasies too...then...", he shook his head with a radiant smile on his face while you seemingly enjoyed sucking your juice from his elegant guitar hands, "...like... who are you? And what have you done to my best friend?"

"Shut up, Healy!", you laughed after letting go of his fingers, "and cuddle me!"

You snuggled yourself into his loving embrace, but Matty had other plans....

"Nah... later, love.", he told you with hungry eyes, "I'm not done with you yet."

Part 2

[ghost-proofbaby]

SO SCARLETT (IT WAS MAROON) - CHAPTER TWO: DON'T YOU

"DON'T YOU SMILE AT ME AND ASK ME HOW I'VE BEEN. DON'T YOU SAY YOU'VE MISSED ME."

☆ pairings: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader

☆ warnings: no use of y/n, strong language, angst, mentions alcohol use/abuse, mentions of drug use/abuse, minors dni

☆ WC: 4K+

☆ A/N: please heed all warnings when it comes to this fic - it's gonna be a ride of dealing with heavy topics. also, if you ever see me miss a warning, please message me to let me know.

thank you to my love @hellfire--cult for the divider!

masterlist

The days had all started to blur together for Eddie at some point.

Wake up in a new city, enter unfamiliar venues that all sort of looked the same, play the same tired riffs on his guitar that had become more habit than passion, drink himself to the point of unconsciousness in his hotel room after the shows. Rinse and repeat. Occasionally, the monotonous routine of it all would break in reprieve with an unexpected party where Eddie would find endless opportunity for more trouble. Drugs freely offered to him in private rooms, others willingly waiting on him hand and foot, women clinging to his arm in hopes of a chance of ending up in the rockstar’s bed.

They never did come back to the hotels with him. He always woke up to cold and unfamiliar beds. 

He’d stopped keeping track of most menial details. If someone were to ask him what city he was in, he’d only offer pathetic shrugs in answer. If someone inquired what the date was, he’d be lucky to even get the month right. Things like that didn’t really matter anymore. He had people for that. He had a person who took care of all his travel arrangements, only making sure he was in the right car or on the right flight. He had a person who took care of all his meals, some fancy chef he never bothered to learn the name of because he rarely touched the expensive meals. Someone to do his shopping, someone to do his emails. Someone to run his social media accounts and someone to keep his name out of the tabloids to the best of their abilities. 

You name it, he had a person. 

And at some point, between all the chaos handled and responsibilities shoveled off, Eddie Munson himself had stopped feeling like a person. 

“Munson, are you even listening to me?” 

No. He hadn’t been. He had been staring at an empty space on the shelf across the room, a clean circle formed by an object that no longer sat amongst the layer of dust. The sun was hitting it just right so even with the height, he could see the contrast in the wood where dust hadn’t been able to reach for some period of time. He hadn’t been listening – he’d been wondering what object had once occupied the space, what thing had been lost. Or maybe removed. What had been taken away from the shelf. 

It was probably just a vase, or a meaningless trophy. Something shiny without meaning to his agent. 

“Something about a tour, yeah?” he guesses baselessly, “You were asking me about tour dates?” 

Matt, his agent, scowls, “Not even close.”

Eddie waits silently as he looks to the older man, leaving an empty space in the conversation for him to continue on. 

Empty space. It was funny, the way nothingness could be so suffocating. The nothingness on the shelf that had suffocated all of Eddie’s attention, the current silence batting between him and his agent that was gripping his throat in irritation. 

Matt didn’t say another word. He was going to make Eddie contribute, to beg and barter to be let back in on information he would have been privy to if he had just been listening. 

It made a sigh of annoyance leave Eddie's lips, “Then what were you saying?” 

He was just doing his job. Matt had been a good enough agent to Eddie, to the entirety of Corroded Coffin, but he’d never catch any of the guys saying so. Not even Jeff, the kindest of the boys. And especially not Eddie, the roughest of the members.  

Matt had been hired two years ago, right at the tail end of the tour that had sky-rocketed all of the newfound fame. He was older, more experienced, better equipped to handle a band on the rise as quickly as Corroded Coffin was. A salt and pepper beard that spoke business, thin wire frame glasses that he always let rest just slightly lower than necessary on the bridge of his nose so he could look up at the boys over them with that specific look of disappointment only a father could muster. Heavy sighs when the boys were lashing out, muted patience every time he’d requested in person meetings with Eddie specifically only to slide another unpleasant magazine cover across his desk. 

For a while, all that father figure potential had made something ache within Eddie. Made him think of someone back home, consider the disappointment someone back in rural Indiana was experiencing just the same in him. But Matt wasn’t a smoker, he had a head full of neat and quipped silver hair, and his voice wasn’t very gruff when he lectured Eddie on why what he did was wrong. 

And most of all – Matt, unlike someone back home, still spoke to Eddie. It was only due to a paycheck, out of obligation more than genuine caring for his well being, but an incoming phone call is still a phone call all the same. 

Eddie had hated him for every single second of those two years. He hadn’t wanted someone new involved in the band’s business, but it had been necessary. Because change, according to Jeff, was necessary. 

Eddie fucking hated change. 

“I was discussing the release, Eddie,” Matt sighs and adjusts his glasses to perch in that damn fatherly position, looking up from the paperwork on his desk before him, “We need to start planning the album launch.” 

“What about it?” Eddie sinks further into the uncomfortable office chair, trying to keep his eyes focused on the large oak desk before him rather than that shelf. He doesn’t need to keep reminiscing on things that are missing, “We release the single, we release the album, we go on tour. Same thing we did last time.” 

“We were actually thinking about a release party.” 

He says it expectantly, as if the promise of a party should entice Eddie. And Eddie supposes that he brought that expectation about himself. 

“I don’t want an album release party.” 

They don’t get it. They never really do. The drugs, the alcohol, the women that never make it off the club’s front steps with him – they think of these things as Eddie’s indulgent vices. Things he realized he had the money and the status for finally, and so he’d taken to gorging himself. They think of them as treats to dangle before him. They think of them as pleasures, as rewards, even as punishments when they threaten to take them away as if he��s a child to be controlled. 

They almost get it. They’re so close to getting it. 

Eddie’s eyes find that blank space amongst photographs of other clients and rewarded plaques for albums gone golden, “Why the fuck should we start throwing parties now? It’s just an album.” 

Younger Eddie claws at his throat and chest alike, screaming ferociously at the way he’s dragged down the significance of the music. But younger Eddie isn’t the one in this chair, the boy who had started a band out of a friend’s garage and had spent endless nights up late giddily writing songs about sticking it to the man has long since died. Eddie buried him years ago, and never bothered with a gravestone. 

“It’s your sophomore album, and it’s highly anticipated,” Matt argues, the space between his brows creasing with both stress and confusion, “We’d be idiots to not make a big deal of it.” 

“If it’s already highly anticipated, we don’t need to make a big deal out of it.” 

“We’ve already hired an agency. We have a meeting with a planner tomorrow to help with all arrangements.” 

Another change, another person. 

“I don’t want a party,” Eddie goes stoic, white knuckling the arms of the chair he sits in as his teeth begin to grind each other in a desperate attempt to reign in his temper. It’s only acceptable when he’s drunk, when there’s cameras and the image of a rowdy rockstar serves to garner the band more attention, “Cancel the meeting.” 

Matt pulls off his glasses completely, leaning forward with hunched shoulders as he pinches that now empty bridge of his nose, “This isn’t negotiable. This is happening with or without you-”

“Like Hell is it happening without me,” Eddie snaps immediately, temper now flaring and tugging on the fragile leash he had on it, “It’s my fucking music, my fucking band-” 

“The band has already agreed.”

Eddie’s anger hits a brick wall. Matt’s gaze is unstaggering as he lets the revelation settle amongst the dust. 

The band has already agreed.

This wasn’t Matt coming to Eddie first to pitch an idea. This wasn’t a meeting to seek out approval. 

Eddie was the last to know. He was simply the last in the lineup, an obstacle to take care of for a plan he didn’t have the capability to derail. 

“I don’t care,” he spits out in disguised desperation, “I don’t want a pa-”

“It’s happening,” Matt repeats himself, not backing down even as he watches Eddie’s anger rise, “I’m sorry, Eddie. It’s happening. I expect you to be in attendance at the meeting tomorrow – I’ll send a car.” 

Eddie’s eyes are no longer focused on the blank space on the shelf. They’re zeroed in on Matt’s pupils, looking him right back in the eyes as he sees an empty pocket there, too. Something missing. Something lost. 

His only option is to lose this fight. This is a battle that must be lost in order to win the war. A war that everyone else is unaware of, a war that has been raged mostly only between Eddie’s own two ears. 

Something missing, something lost. 

Eddie’s grin as he raises his white flag is salacious, aware of the bloodshed to come.

Let it happen, he thinks bitterly. Let them watch it burn. I’ve got nothing to lose. 

Eddie gets what he wants — the meeting ends suddenly upon his giving in. 

And so another routine begins; Eddie is dismissed, Eddie is rounded up into a car, Eddie is left on the front door step of his apartment building with a doorman who doesn’t even smile at the rockstar these days. He’s probably seen Eddie at his worst one too many times, stumbling in drunk and incoherent, lucky that the paps had given up swarming the building this last month.

“Morning, Fred,” Eddie still greets him regardless, grinning behind dark sunglasses, wiggling his fingers in a taunt.

The doorman’s name is most certainly not Fred. Eddie forgot his name within his first week living here, though. And greeting the familiar face with a new name every time brought a little reprieve amongst Eddie’s tedious schedule of repetition. 

“It’s three in the afternoon,” the man replies in a flat tone.

“Ah,” Eddie pauses by the standing desk, “In that case – good afternoon, Frank.” 

The driver is long gone, probably eager to end his short day. Eddie couldn’t care less, lingering just a few seconds longer in the warm sun outside before he locks himself away in his self-built prison for the night. 

The man, certainly not Frank based on the unimpressed look he wears, forces out a stiff, “Good afternoon, Mr. Munson.” 

It’s Eddie’s cue to leave him alone. To walk away and stop pestering. 

When Eddie was younger, he would have loved the game. He would have stayed planted and seen how much he could truly bother the poor man. A pest in its truest form, he would have hounded the man from the first day he’d forgotten his name until he had relearned his name. It never would have carried on this long – a whole year of being too prideful to just admit the game he was playing at. 

Unmarked grave. That spirit, that essence, would lay restlessly beneath soil for another day. Another month. Another year. Another lifetime. 

Eddie’s apartment is on the top floor of his building, making his knuckle ache when he punches the 10th button on the elevator. His stomach lurches as the mechanics carry him up, and he tells himself it’s just gravity resisting; it couldn’t possibly be loneliness catching flight within him, making its presence known with each increase of distance he puts between himself and others who dwell on the streets. He’d had the option to move into the same building as the rest of the band, each boy having taken turns in groveling when he’d announced he’d be moving out of his old apartment. He had turned every single one down.

His old apartment. That small one-bedroom apartment that still exists on the other side of town, the one he can’t pass the building of and deliberately demands all his drivers avoid the street of. It never really felt like just his. Even when he returned to it empty. It was never just his. It had already been tainted as something more, and he’d dished out quite the pretty show of money to get out of his lease early. It had only taken him paying up front with cash for the remaining months of his lease, a price that at the time had felt a bit light. There had been half an amount missing. Half a responsibility handed off to someone else. Someone his mind can’t risk to think about, not tonight.

But his new apartment doesn’t feel like his either. 

And with each echoing footstep from the sole of his heavy boots, each click of each extensive lock that had been installed into his front door, he knows who he’s going to think about. Even before he pours the whiskey. Even before he catches sight of an old framed photo, folded with care and intention inside a frame to only see three quarters of the original picture. 

Himself in the center, Gareth with crossed arms leaning into the camera’s view on his left, and a wild hand in the blurry corner that surely belonged to none other than Dustin Henderson. And if anyone viewing the old frame squinted, truly leaned down to focus, they’d catch it — the phantom hand’s nimble fingers curled around Eddie’s right shoulder, and the rubber toe of a shoe, creased from the wearer perching up on their tip-toes. The tiniest of details of someone no longer visible from the fold.

His night was always going to end up this way. Thinking about the ones he’s lost, even as they still exist within reach. The ones he had given away. The ones that were missing. 

An empty sliver of space in the frame, where the missing quarter of the photo would fit perfectly. He doesn’t have to wonder where that absent item, person, has gone.

—

In deciding that the only way forward was to raise Hell, Eddie should have considered the consequences. 

Agreeing to the meeting meant a plethora of inconveniences, one after another, hit after hit against Eddie’s already sour mood. 

It begins with an early wakeup call. 

Pounding on the front door of Eddie’s too big and too empty apartment wakes him up, head still spinning from the night before. He hadn’t drunk that much – at least, that’s what he had convinced himself after his fifth glass of whiskey straight. 

He hadn’t even poured the liquor over ice. Leaving something to be desired, something missing, but telling himself he deserved the burn all the same. 

After he had been rushed through his morning, Matt himself arrived to escort Eddie to the meeting as if he had sensed the impending trouble from the easy succession the day before, it only got worse. The headache lingered, and Matt only made it pound against Eddie’s temples more aggressively as he spent the entire drive going over details that were entirely insignificant to the frontman. Nothing more than talk of a release party Eddie was still adamantly against. 

The black and tinted SUV had never more resembled a prison on wheels. 

“I figure we have time,” Matt focuses down on his phone, thumbs flying as he no doubt replies to an email in relation to this entire plot, “We haven’t announced the album yet, or the single. Release date is set for…” he pauses, checking the calendar on his small screen, “November sixteenth. So we’ve got about six months. We outlined more of the specific timeline in the contract with the company, but I’m thinking the first single should be released in three months…”

Eddie tunes him out slowly but surely, his tone eventually muddling with the hum of the tires on asphalt. He knows when the album deadline is. He knows when the first single will be released, having been involved in every step of the mastering process. 

He knows, he knows, he knows.

That’s the problem.

He knows this album better than the back of his own hand. He’s painstakingly aware of the memory of writing every single line, formulating every single guitar riff and going as far as to override Gareth on the drums when it came to perfecting beats during recording. He’s acutely aware of the ticking countdown in the back of his mind until this album no longer belongs to just him, to just the band – the day it becomes something for others to own, to analyze, to decide to relate to their own experiences. 

The thought makes Eddie physically ill. 

Because it’s not their experiences or their emotions to reclaim. It isn’t their blood, their sweat, their tears across every track. It’s not even the rest of the band’s – it’s Eddie’s. They had all known the first day he’d stormed into the studio, beginning the process two years ago, this was going to be his journey to take. The band had become a vessel, the album a labor of his own demise. 

He’s so lost in his thoughts and swirling nausea, he doesn’t realize the car has come to a full stop until Matt’s hand comes down on his shoulder. 

“You ready?” 

No. But I never will be. 

“Let’s just get this shit over with,” Eddie mumbles, shrugging off the palm meant to be comforting but only being smothering. 

The ache only returns whenever someone touches him. Whether it be Matt, or Jeff, or Gareth, or Grant, or random women at unnamed clubs Eddie hardly remembers the insides of. The ache of something missing, something lost, something he’s tried to forget but can’t seem to erase from the back of his mind. 

The building is nice. A large skyscraper to fit in amongst the rest of the city skyline around it, no lack of large ceiling-to-floor windows or modern decor. Something about the minimalistic approach, abstract artwork and fake plants that are almost convincing if it weren’t for their plasticky shine beneath fluorescent lights, leaves Eddie feeling even more empty than when he first entered the building. He didn’t even realize that was possible until he caught sight of one of the receptionist’s blank smiles. 

Not a single word is spoken during the elevator ride up to the sixth floor. It’s fine; Eddie has already spent the last two years trying to find solstice in the silence, he can survive another minute.

He’s almost prepared to ask Matt if the rest of the band is even here, but the question is answered for him after he’s guided through a series of hallways by another soulless receptionist, only to enter a large conference room in which two security guards flank the door of and the rest of Corroded Coffin occupy.

“Finally,” Gareth says, far too dramatically, as if Eddie was late. 

Matt had made sure he arrived a full five minutes early. A personal record, Eddie’s pretty sure. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry to keep you all waiting,” Eddie sarcastically snaps, bowing for a bit of theatrics before he rounds the long table to go for the empty seat at the dead center of his friends. Right between Gareth and Grant, Eddie slips into a stiff-cushioned roller chair that creaks beneath his weight, “What is this place, anyways?” 

“An event planning agency,” Jeff answers from the other side of Gareth. 

Matt takes the seat beside Grant. 

“You do know what the meeting is about, right?” Gareth asks, genuinely quirking an eyebrow with such little faith in Eddie. 

It rubs him raw, offended despite understanding where his bandmates were coming from. He had become fairly disconnected from the business aspect of the band for a while now, “Of fucking course, I do. I’m not entirely oblivious.” 

“You sure do act like it,” Gareth mutters, barely audible, in return.

He doesn’t reply. Not with his immediate offense, and certainly not with the snarky reply that begins to materialize in his mind the longer he sits with the insinuation. Even if it hurts, Eddie won’t let it show. He numbs it, compartmentalizes it, packs the emotion tightly away and leaves behind nothing more than an empty space. 

Matt anxiously checks his watch, Craig begins to tap his knuckles against the large table before them all, Jeff begins to bounce his leg, and Gareth seems hellbent on now pretending that Eddie doesn’t exist. 

Don’t let it show. Even if it hurts. 

“They’re late-” Matt starts to mutter just as the door finally swings open. Eddie doesn’t move an inch, keeping his arms crossed and posture slack in his chair, as if he couldn’t care less. 

The person who storms in first clearly cares. “I’m so sorry, gentleman, there was just some… complications with your security measures-” 

Eddie doesn’t care who this woman is. He doesn’t care for the sudden sweep of her overwhelming perfume that follows her into the room, he doesn’t care for the bleeding edges of her mauve lipstick, he doesn’t care for the startling slickness of her pin straight blonde hair. She smooths her free hand over a pencil skirt he also feels little opinion towards, nothing more than another addition to a dreadfully boring corporate dress code. She’s nothing special – she doesn’t take his breath away. 

It’s the person that follows her into the conference room that sucks all the air out of his lungs. 

Frizzy hair, glaring eyes over a shoulder at one of the guards. Arms full of manila folders and a pen tucked behind the ear. A far more casual attire of jeans and a wrinkle-free shirt that fits well. If his eyes could tear away from the person’s face that had yet to turn cheek towards him, he’d probably glance down to find a pair of comfortable sneakers rather than heels like the first woman wore. 

A ghost. A phantom from Eddie’s past that had spent the last two years haunting every dream, every melody, every crowd, every drunken night. The one face that ruined every other set of eyes that had ever landed on him with the worst intentions.

You. 

You haven’t spotted him yet, not like he’s spotted you. You’re full of fire and spunk, so unlike the last time he’d seen you with his own two eyes. No burning cheeks like the first time he’d met you. No downturned gaze full of brimming loss or sadness, only a fierce gaze you won’t back down from. 

And then, from across a deathly still room, your head turns and your eyes find his. 

Like the first breath of wind amongst an impending hurricane, your fire exits you in a singular exhale. Eddie swears it travels across the room for him. Snaking its way over more than just physical distance, reaching out for him in a whisper of loss – no elongated conference table, no narrow room, no amount of time could deter its pathway to him. 

You, who he hadn’t seen in over two years. You, who had once been his end all and be all. You, who had chewed him up and spit him out without ever once sharpening your teeth. 

The entire room pauses for the two of you. Every single member of Corroded Coffin is staring, the corporate machine in a pencil skirt stills, and Matt glances at Eddie with blissful unawareness.

An empty space on a shelf, surrounded in dust. A glass half-empty, lacking in ice. A cold bed and an echoing hallway, a picture frame never quite filled as it should be. 

Something lost, something missing.

All Eddie is capable of is the sigh of your name.

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar

ghost's taglist: @emmaisgonnacry @figmentofquinn @bebe07011 @barbedwirebats @ayooooo0 @neverlearnedcivility @munson-enthusiast @digwhatudug @wow-cam @daddysmodifiedprincess2 @cancankiki @gothmingguk @nix-rose @thesesuggestedblognamesbegreat @chevelle724 @madaboutjoe @take-everything-you-can @josephquinnsfreckles @thebanisheddreamer @water-loos @dailyobsession @whenshelanded @happy-and-alone

join my taglist!

[gejo333]

An Unexpected Match X

Pt. 1 Pt. 11

DBF/DILF Miguel O’Hara x female reader

Summary: Disagreements about children…and…you have to read to find out.

Wc: 5.5k

————————————————————————

The gentle morning cold of the February wind combined with your warm cup of coffee was a perfect balance, as you stare out at the Nueva York skyline from the patio of the apartment.

Since leaving the night of the holiday party, you and Miguel decided to stay for a month in the apartment, in hopes some of the heat of drama has settled down, and also hopes that Sofia would give up.

The month of January with just you, Miguel and Gabi has been a dream. Going out to dinner when neither you or Miguel felt like cooking. It was a perfect routine after the holiday break was over. Majority of the time you and Miguel would drive Gabi to and from school, which was closer back to the neighborhood, but it was a nice drive. Luckily soccer season had not started yet, as you weren't sure if you or Miguel were ready for the judging stares of the neighborhood parents.

Sometimes when you had to go to classes early or the same with Miguel and work one of you would drive her.

Today was a Saturday and the day you were going back to the house. Of course you loved that house, holding already so many memories since you moved in 7 months ago, but if only you could just wipe away the rest of the neighborhood, and stay in the perfect bubble of the O'Hara family.

Another thing that has been happening this past month was Miguel trying to bring up the topic of children. And of course every time he has, you have been lucky enough to avoid it.

Yes, you do want children with Miguel. To give Gabi a little brother or sister. Maybe both. But In a few years, after your done with grad school and start your career. Of course your argument can be easily proven wrong at the strong baby fever you've been having lately. It definitely didn't help when one of Miguel's coworkers, Peter who came to drop something off and had brought his baby daughter Mayday with him. While the two were talking you watched over Mayday. Of course Miguel saw how much you loved spending time with her, and as soon as Peter and Mayday left he brought the topic up. And lucky for you, Gabriel had called him on his phone.

You sigh as you watch your breath, cold enough to see it. Two arms wrapped around your waist as you felt a familiar head rest on your shoulder before bringing you against him as he gently kissed up your neck, before turning your head and placing a gentle kiss to your lips.

"Good morning, mi amor. I didn't see you in bed this morning. You usually only come out here this early if something is on your mind."

You set your cup of coffee down on the table before turning around to face him. Still in his arms you rest your head on his chest, as he rest his head on top of yours. Something you both know calm each other down.

"A few things actually. About going back and having to face everyone. Hoping to god we never see Sofia again. Figuring out how to pay for my last semester at school. And well... the other thing, I feel like we might get into an argument over." You lift your head to look up at him. His brows furrow and a small frown forms, curious about your last sentence.

"You think so? You can tell me, cariño. I'd never get mad at you." Miguel caressed your cheek as he gave you a smile of reassurance. He was right, even the little disagreements you have gotten into in the past, neither of you have ever gotten mad at each other. Maybe a little annoyed, but a quick make out session or fuck usually made the annoyances go away.

"It's about kids. I know you've been trying to talk to me about it for a while now."

"I've noticed you've been trying to avoid that conversation. Is there a reason why?" Miguel chuckled as he put some of your hair behind your ear to see more of your beautiful face.

" When I tell you my answer I don't know if I can handle seeing the disappointment in your eyes." Tears brim the corners of your eyes, which Miguel sees right away as he gently wipes them away.

"Mi amor, please tell me. Please don't cry. It breaks my heart see you upset." Miguel puts both hands on the side of your face, caressing your cheeks and wiping any stray away tears.

"I want to have kids. But not for a while."

"For how long?" You can see the nerves build up inside him, even though you could see he was trying to hide it from you.

"When I'm 29, maybe 30." You bite your lower lip, nervous for his answer.

"So, almost a decade from now?"

"Yeah..." Your heart ached as you could see the pain in his eyes.

"Can I ask why so long from now?"

"Starting my career. If I got pregnant now it would be a lot harder for employers to hire me. It's wrong. But it happens. And I want to go to grad school and I just don't know if I could do that and have a baby. I just don't know if I can balance starting a career and have a baby at the same time. That's why I thought after a couple of years I can handle both."

"I've seen your resume, hermosa it is very impressive. so is your transcript. You have a really good chance at getting hired at Alchamex. And women are treated very well there. They receive great maternity leave. If you worked in my department your boss, Jess, my coworker currently is pregnant."

"Is she 21?" You give him a deadpanned look.

"Well, no. She's 33. But even if she was your age. There would be no difference."

"Miguel, I would be an intern. And the interns are highly competitive with each other there. Oh and by the way, how would they react if they found out that the head of Alchemex's Genetics department is the boyfriend and baby daddy to my child. They would think I slept my way into getting the position."

"Well first off, you would be my wife by the time it happened. And second off, you know you would get the job because of your qualifications not because of me."

"Is this turning into a proposal?" Your eyes widen, chuckling lightly.

"Well, not now. But I love you y/n. I do attend to marry you one day."

"And I love you too Miguel. But don't change the subject. Are you ok with my answer about kids?"

"A decade is a long time. By the time we had one I'll almost be 50 and Gabi would be 15."

"Well, when did you think we were going to have more kids?" You cross you arms as you look up at him.

"I thought maybe by next year we would have a baby." Miguel brushed his fingers through his hair, out of his face.

"So you mean me getting pregnant right after graduation? Miguel that's really soon. It's too soon."

"Well 9 years is too far away. Can we compromise at least a bit?"

"Can we wait to have this discussion after I graduate? Please." You look up at him as you wrap you arms around his neck, pushing your body against him. Miguel wraps his arms around you.

"I know what your doing, hermosa. Trying to distract me from the topic." Miguel looks at you slightly annoyed but with a hint of lust in his eyes.

"I am. But can we please talk about it later. I know this is going to go in an evil cycle at the moment. And it's Saturday. I don't want to get in to an argument today."

"Alright, cariño. We'll talk about it later. But please think about it though."

"I will. Please think about what I said too."

"I will." Miguel leaned down and kissed your lips which you happily returned. You both walked back inside the apartment getting ready to head back.

Everything was packed into the car as you carried a sleepy Gabi in your arms.

"Thank you for packing the car, Rick." Miguel handed the doorman a $100 before getting into the car, while you strap Gabi into her car seat before getting into the passenger seat.

The drive back was in silence, obviously this morning conversation weighing heavily on both of your minds.

By the time you drove down your block you saw an unfamiliar car in front of your house. When Miguel pulled into a drive way, " Maldita sea!" he swore under his breath. You look to him before looking ahead and sigh in frustration. "You have got to be kidding me." (Damn it)

Waiting in your drive way was no other than Sofia.

"Stay in the car." Miguel looked over to you with worry in his eyes, before he turned to look at Sofia with a glare. He gets out of the car and walk towards Sofia. He had closed the car door so you couldn't fully here their conversation, but you could tell that Miguel was getting more frustrated the more Sofia stood there with a care free attitude.

"Mama?" Your eyes widen and turn around as you see Gabi was awake.

"Hi baby bug. How did you sleep?"

"Good. Are we home?"

"Yes, we are sweetie."

"What's Papa doing? Why is that lady there again?" Gabi pouted as she saw her father having a yelling spat with that same strange woman. You saw her begin to tear up. "Oh baby." You quickly get out of the car and make your way to the back as you unbuckle her from her car seat. She balled as she wrapped her arms around your neck. You run her back and whisper in her ear saying, "everything is ok. It's ok baby bug."

Hearing his daughter crying Miguel turned around to see you consoling her with worry and fear in his eyes wanting to know what happened.

"She woke up to you outside the car, and got scared with what's happening. You need to leave Sofia. Your making Gabi upset." You shoot daggers her way, to which she rolled her eyes.

"She's a kid. They cry all the time. I doubt it's because of me. Her mother." Sofia said as she tried to walk up to you to get to Gabi, but you stepped away as you turned Gabi away from her. Miguel stepped in the middle protecting you and Gabi from her stepping any closer.

"Leave Sofia. You have no right to be here. And stop saying your her mother. You're not."

"I'm her biological mother. I have every right to have her in my life. And I'll take you to court to prove my point." Argued Sofia.

"Sure take me to court. I have enough money to fight you. But I have enough evidence to say you didn't want her. Even now you barely care about her. You're upsetting my daughter. Now leave."

"Ugh, whatever. But I'm not done here." Sofia rolled her eyes as she walked back to her car and got in before driving away.

Both you and Miguel's attention went back to Gabi as she still was crying in your arms.

"Come here princesa, I'm sorry you had to wake up to that. Everything's ok now." You briefly gave Gabi to Miguel so that he could console her.

"Papa has to pull the car into the drive way. I'm going to give you back to Mama, ok?" Gabi nodded, still pouting as Miguel gave her a kiss to the top of her head before handing her back to you. You kiss the top of her head as you wiped away the rest of her tears.

"Hey, while Papa parks the car in the garage, what are some things you want to do for your 6th birthday party next week." You say, as you unlock the door to the house and walk inside. A smile graces your lips as Gabi perked up slightly when you mentioned her birthday. While Gabi went on an adorable tangent of different things she wanted to do for her birthday party, you looked at your surroundings, happy to be back.

You head to the living room where you sit on the couch with Gabi still in your arms as she begins to calm down and return to her cheery self.

"Can we do a princess super hero theme?" Gabi raised her head from the crook of your neck as she looked up at you, face tear stained.

"Of course we can do that. I'll start coming up with some ideas and I'll show them to you."

"Yay!" Gabi yawned as she rested her head against your chest.

"Do you want to take a nap?" You asked her which she nodded slightly against you. You smiled as you stood up from the sofa and walked upstairs to her bedroom to tuck her into bed.

When you went back downstairs you heard Miguel in the kitchen. Entering the kitchen you hug him from behind as he drank his coffee. As you rest your head against his back you felt his muscles shift as he move his arm.

"¿Dónde está Gabi?" (Where is Gabi?)

"She got tired after crying so I laid her down in her bed to take a nap." You could tell he was still annoyed, not just at the argument with Sofia but also with you.

"Miguel. I was thinking of what you said earlier..." You felt him tense slightly as he turned around to face you. You saw hope glisten in his eyes. You glance away from him as you move to face against the island counter, contemplating your next words.

"Cariño?" Miguel moved behind you as his hands rested on your hips, encouraging you to turn around to face him, which you did as you looked up into his reddish brown eyes.

"What about 5 years? When I'm 26."

"Is there anyway I could get you down to 3 years?" Miguel added softly with a slight hesitation in his voice. Your gaze shifted from his to the fridge.

Three years? That's wasn't that far from now. But maybe you should consider it. It's not like he's not able to support you. But the thought of being financially dependent on him bothers you, brings chills up your spine. It would make you feel like you were using him, even though that wasn't the truth. You sighed. Maybe you will be doing well with a career in 3 years?

You look back up to him, a smile coming to your lips. "Sure, three years." Your answer brought a wide smile to his face as he leaned down and placed a kiss to your lips. The kiss began to get more heated as Miguel lifted you on to the counter, settling himself between your thighs as he continued to abuse your lips.

"Can we go to our room?" You huff out a breath of air, lips swollen slightly. Miguel nodded as he lifted you from the counter, large hands cupping your ass as you wrap your legs around his waist. Your lips smashed against his as you wrap your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss.

The tension and stress between the you both of you didn't get you upstairs as you pass through the living room Miguel decides to lay you on the sofa, with him over you. He pressed his lips to yours, "thank you for compromising, hermosa. You'll be an amazing mother." Miguel said as he kiss down your neck to his shirt that you borrowed this morning as he unbuttons it, throwing it to the ground when it's off of you. He loved it when you put on his clothes.

"I know you'll be an amazing father. You're already such a great one now." If eyes could physically turn into hearts that's what Miguel would look like after your words, as his heart is filled with so much love for you.

His lips moved down to your now bra less chest as he latches on to one of your nipples. A moan escapes you as you comb your fingers through his black curls.

You help pull off your leggings, knowing that if you didn't get them off sooner you knew Miguel would rip them off as he has in the past. Miguel helped you pull them off before ripping your panties off. In the past you would get annoyed by it, but now you always by them in bulk. Cause no matter how many times you tell him to just take them off, his sexual urge to be inside you always makes him forget, or not care. But seconds after they are off your forget as you feel your self get stretched by his large girth.

Your hands move on to his shoulders as they lightly claw his back. "Fuck baby, you're tight. Relax for me, cariño."

You felt your pleasure course through your limbs,  now relaxed as you slightly move your hips to gain friction, signally for Miguel to move. He removed himself until the tip before thrusting completely into you with the snap of his hips, making you gasp out a moan.

As Miguel continued his assaults to your pussy he lifted your hips, gaining a new position inside you. You clamp your hand over your mouth to quiet your moans. You felt every one of his ridges move against your gummy walls, while his tip hit your g-spot continuously. Miguel removed your hand from your mouth as he held both of your wrists above your head with one of his.

"No mi amor. I want to hear your beautiful voice." Miguel groaned as his forehead pressed against yours.

"B-but Gabi." You managed to let out.

"It's fine, she's all the way upstairs." Miguel kissed your lips as they moved down to your neck as he began to suck against the sweet spot, letting out another gasp.

Miguel's pace quickened as he continued to ram into you. He was fucking you so hard you thought you felt your insides become messed up. Miguel looked down towards your torso. He felt his cock grew harder as he saw himself physically stretch out your insides.

"Fuck, I can never get enough of this amazing pussy. I can't wait to see this belly swollen with my children. I can't wait till you bare my children, mi amor. Te quiero tanto, hermosa." Miguel said in your ear, making your heart swell with love.

"I love you too, Miggy. So much." You felt your core twist in a knot before releasing, as you moan out loud from your climax. Not long after Miguel thrusted deep inside, balls slapping against you as he spills deep inside you, making your inner walls white and filling you until it starts to spill out of you.

He pulls out as he took a deep breath, placing a loving kiss to your lips before parting as his forehead rested on yours.

After resting on the sofa after your love making Miguel lifts you from the sofa and carries you to the master bathroom, where he turned on the Roman-size bath.

When it was ready he carries you into the water, where he found a place to sit and rested against the wall of the bath resting his arms on the sides as you rested your back against him. You both stayed there in perfect silence, showing small affections of love with kisses and  small loving touches until fatigue took over your body as your eyes closed falling asleep.

—————————

Two days before Gabi’s birthday

“Yay! We’re here!” Gabi cheered as she helped the popular cartoon gift bag in her hands as she ran up to the front door of the house.

You and Miguel smiled down at her excited attitude. Today was one of her close friends birthday party, sadly it was at Ms. Johnson’s house. The woman always got on your nerves, as she tried to flirt with Miguel every second she could. And in front of you too. Of course, no one knew you two were dating. This was your first appearance as a couple, so you were curious if she soul try to do the same thing.

After Gabi rang the doorbell the door opened revealing your favorite person.

“Ah the O’Hara’s and Y/n. How nice to see you again.” Ms. Johnson said with a the most fakest smiles, it took all of your will power not to roll your eyes. She welcomed the three of you inside as Gabi wandered off the the backyard where the rest of the kids were.

With a hand on your lower back you and Miguel followed Ms. Johnson to the living room where other parents talked while sipping on cocktails and eating snacks. When you both entered many parents stared, one whispering to the other, “I can’t believe he’s with Sam and Sarah’s daughter. I’m shocked they even showed up here.”

“I know. Especially after what went down at the holiday party. He’s so attractive. He could literally have anyone and he chooses this girl?”

You tried your best to pretend you didn’t hear the conversation as you kept your smile on your face. The audacity of some of these people. They should just mind their own damn business.

“Would you care for any drinks? Y/n are you old enough to drink?” Smiled Ms. Johnson as she looked at you.

“Yes I am. Maybe you had two many glasses of wine since you can’t seem to remember my age. You should slow down.” You smile as you hear Miguel trying to stifle a chuckle along with a few other people in the room.

“I’ll get you two a glass of wine.” Ms. Johnson smiled before leaving the room.

Miguel leaned down to whisper into your ear, “We’ll have a glass of wine and then we’ll say we have to go to another event for my job.” You turn to look up at him with a smile. “Sounds like a good escape plan.” Miguel returns your smile as he leaves a kiss to your cheek.

“Hey, so like what is it that makes you interested in a guy like Miguel. He is like over a decade older than you.” Said one of Gabi’s classmates dads as he walks over to you.

“Ryan, you can’t just say stuff like that. It’s rude.” Scolded his wife next to him. “I’m sorry about him. He’s had a few too many beers.” She chuckled.

“No, but I’m serious. Cause like y/n your freaking hot. Why be with a man so much older? Yeah ok, Miguel you keep yourself in shape man. But like, I just don’t get it. Like I’m 6 years younger than you Miguel, yet I don’t have a young hot babe beside me. Ah, maybe it’s the money.”

Your eyes widen from his words.

“You listen here. You’re lucky there are kids around us or my fist would be in your face. If I ever here you disrespect my girlfriend again, you’ll deeply regret it.” Miguel got into the man’s face sending him a deathly glare as his voice turns into a serious tone. Giving the guy a slight scare he raised his arms up in surrender as he moved away from Miguel.

“Maybe it’s best if you and Ryan leave.” Said Ms. Johnson as she came back into the room with two glasses of wine for you and Miguel. How you so desperately wanted to drink this glass in one swoop.

The couple left to your relief, but you still weren’t comfortable as he wasn’t the only one thinking that same thing about you and Miguel.

After talking with these unbearable people for a hellish hour, Miguel finally decided that it’s time to go.

“We’re going to head out. We have another event to go to.”

“Aww alright, well I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” Ms. Johnson smiled flirtatiously towards Miguel wondering if he was picking Gabi up up after the sleepover.

“I am actually. So I’ll be seeing you tomorrow.” You smile as you take Miguel’s empty wine glass and hand her both of your glasses. He smile faltered before being replaced with a fake one.

“Perfect. Well…I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Until then.” You return her fake smile before you and Miguel left the living room to give Gabi a quick goodbye before you both left the house.

Walking a block from the house you say, “oh god, was that unbearable. I swear these people are just like on drugs or something, this neighborhood is just so nosy and rude!” You laugh, hysterical from the event.

“Yeah, that was pretty bad in there.” Miguel chuckled before he silently snuck up on you and lifted you up by the waist, wrapping his arms around you before placing a big kiss to your cheek. You let out a laugh as he continued kissing your face and neck. “Miggy, wait till we get home.”

“I can’t help myself mi amor. Now that our relationship is public I want the whole world to know how much I love you.” Miguel kissed your lips one more time, before setting you down. You intertwine your fingers with his as you hold his hand walking the rest of the way back home.

———————-

The day of Gabi’s birthday

“Good morning baby bug! Happy Birthday!” You smile as you sit on the bed beside her.

“Here is a first gift out of many princesa.” Miguel handed her a new stuffed kitty cat animal. After sitting up Gabi hugged the stuffed animal. “Thank you Papa! I love it! I’m going to name her snowball!”

“Such a cute name for a cute kitty.” You smile as you brush strands of hair out of her face. Miguel lifted Gabi out of bed as he hung her upside down on his shoulders.

“Oh no Gabi, the house turned upside down!” Said Miguel as he walked her out of her room and downstairs towards the kitchen.

“Papa, I’m the one that’s upside down.” Gabi giggled from her fathers words. You chuckled along with them as you followed them down to the kitchen where a stack of pancakes topped with berries and whipped cream smiley face and finally a candle.

When all three of you entered the kitchen Miguel flipped her right up and sat her on the kitchen counter chair.

“One last thing.” You say as you get the lighter to light the candle. Once lit both you and Miguel sing Happy Birthday in Spanish before she blew out the candle.

“I wished for everything to stay at it is.” Gabi smiled as she swooped a strawberry in the whip cream and ate it.

“I couldn’t agree more princesa.” Miguel smile as he kissed the top of her head.

After eating together as a family, Miguel went to go get ready for work as he needed to attend an early meeting.

“Ok my two favorite girls. I’ll see you both after work and we’ll celebrate your 6th birthday at your favorite restaurant, princesa.” Miguel walked back into the kitchen in his suite.

“Yay!” Gabi raised her hands in excitement. You chuckled as you saw her face was covered in whipped cream and syrup. You grab a wet cloth and wipe her face before kissing the top of her head.

“Goodbye princesa.” Miguel kissed the top of her head as Gabi wrapped her arms around his neck to give him a small hug.

“Bye bye papa. Love you!”

“Love you too.”

He then walked over to you as he wrapped an arm around your waist pulling you against him as he gives you a loving goodbye kiss.

“Goodbye cariño. Have a nice day with classes. I’ll see you later.”

“Goodbye. Have a good day at work. I’ll pick up Gabi from school.”

Miguel looked at you and Gabi one more time with a wide happy smile before leaving.

The entire work day was chaotic as he had no time to take a break until now.

Miguel smiled wide as he entered the luxury store. He gazed around before his eyes darted towards his main mission here.

“Welcome Sir. How may I help you?” Said the stores salesman as he greeted Miguel with a welcoming smile.

“I’m here to buy an engagement ring.”

“Wonderful! We have a great selection. What’s your price range?”

“Can I see your most valued rings?”

The store clerk eyes widen and smile grew bigger, “Of course. Follow me this way. We keep our nice items in a private room.” The salesman gestured for Miguel to follow him.

After some time and looking through a vast amount of rings, Miguel eyes landed on the one. The one you knew would be perfect. Because you were perfect. And you deserved the best.

“This is the one.”

“That’s an excellent choice Mr. O’Hara. That’s one lucky woman.”

“I’m the lucky one.” Miguel smiled as he held the ring in his hands, so small compared to

his large hands. Just like your hands when they’re intertwined in his.

“Thank you for your purchase. Please feel free to reach out if you have an questions or concerns about your purchase. Have a nice day.”

“You too. Thank you.” Miguel left the store, stopping a few feet away to open the box and look at the ring again.

His phone went off. Miguel rolled his eyes thinking it was work as he close the ring box and put it in his coat pocket before he took his phone out of his pocket. The number calling was unfamiliar, but he press the green button, deciding to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Hi. Is this Mr. O’Hara speaking?”

“Yes. Who is this?”

“This is Nueva York Medical. You were listed as Ms. Y/n L/n emergency contact?”

“Y-yes.” Miguel’s heart stopped before rapidly beating against his chest as his stomach dropped.

“She was in a car accident.”

————————————————————————

Tag List

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[umlewis]

lewis hamilton, p3, is interviewed after qualifying, singapore - september 21, 2024 (transcript under the cut)

Lewis: "I mean, firstly, I definitely wanna… 'Cause we don't get to do it a huge amount, but to acknowledge everyone back at the factory. Both factories. All year long they've just been on the grind, just continuing to push. We've had three difficult years in performance and, no matter how hard everyone's worked, we've had this erratic kind of result layout, or statistics, and so… On my side, qualifying's been a nightmare for a year or so, or at least most of this year, and it's been something I've really been working on. There's definitely been a lot of work I've had to do, mentally, to try and just hold onto it and continue to believe. And then the races have been strong. Generally, through the year they've been relatively… I race well, but it makes it so much harder when you don't qualify well. So this weekend, as every weekend, come in positive, but the car was a [laughs] nightmare to drive in P1. We were, like, a second off. We made massive changes for P2; still a second off. Great work for the guys in the simulator last night, came with all this optimism…" George, clapping him on the shoulder: "Well done, mate." Lewis: "…the simulator, and then we made these set-ups. We were all positive… P3, nightmare, 1.2 seconds off, and… Ugh, God. And the mechanics have just been working so hard, changing these bits. They don't know what's coming to them next. And start qualifying and finally the car just… It's just that switch. All of a sudden felt this energy and felt really competitive from the get-go. Unfortunate, I think, for the last lap, but I'll really take it." Interviewer: "Yeah. You've had some great qualifying laps around here, but looking ahead to the race, Lando on pole, Max there. Can you race both of them? Do you sense what kind of results are achievable tomorrow?" Lewis: "I really don't know. With all the changes we've made it's difficult to know where we'll be, balance-wise, for the race, but I think the car is in a better place. I hope that we can position better with aero tomorrow for good long run progress. If we can hold onto these guys… Anything can happen on this track, and so… Tire degradation's gonna be key. I think the McLaren's too fast, really. With their wing moving, and front wing moving, rear wing moving, they're just lightning at the moment, and think that's gonna be hard to beat. But I'll stay hopeful and give it everything and… We've seen these two at the start of the races, and in races anythign can happen, so we'll just try and make sure I'm there for capitalizing, whatever it is." Interviewer: "Best of luck to you."

[b1ackbunny]

TAKE IT ALL

A Monika Shin Oneshot

paring: gf!monika shin x fem!reader

synopsis: you and monika have been dating for years. she’s been your person since the beginning, and you’ve been hers. for the past few months, you’ve barely talked to her, much less seen her although you two live together. she’s been caught up with work and you’ve been understanding. that was until she forgot about your fourth anniversary.

word count: ≈ 2.4k

warnings: ANGST!!!, like I’m talking gut wrenching, nausea, strong language, feelings are hurt, mention of knives, monika is a d1 asshole here, angst with sad ending, if my english is bad here I'm sorry

masterlist

a/n: this is so self-indulgent bc I've been feening for some angst 🧎‍♀️ also I was listening to adele and sam smith while writing this so I hope y’all enjoy 🫶🏽 my heart physically hurted writing this I’m so proud (pun intended)

Tick-tock. Tick-tock. The obnoxious ticking of the timepiece above the door constantly sounded, finding humor in your current situation. It was a little after 10 o'clock at night, and you were still waiting for your girlfriend to return.

Sure, the past few months have been a little rocky, but you've been understanding. Her schedule has been hectic with different events to attend, choreographies to work on, and classes to teach.

But this was different. You’ve tried as hard as you could to stay supportive and compassionate, though the minimal communication was eating you alive. You’ve tried so hard to give her the benefit of the doubt.

But this was different. It was your fourth anniversary and where was the woman you were supposed to be spending it with? Nowhere to be found. Except, that’s not entirely correct.

You knew where she was. You saw it on Lip J’s Instagram story a few hours ago. She had gone out with a couple of friends to a nightclub downtown, ignoring each and every one of your calls.

At this point, you were more tired than mad, but you were still very aggravated. You and Monika had only talked to each other once today, on one of the most special days in your year.

It was that morning when you passed each other in the kitchen. You asked her to come home earlier because you had something “special” planned for her. She agreed before kissing you goodbye and walking out the door.

There were no signs that she had forgotten what today was. None at all. You went the whole day giddy and excited about that afternoon. Your co-workers teased you for your excitement, but nothing they could say was able to wipe the smile off of your face.

After work, you stopped by the grocery store to pick up ingredients for the special dinner you planned to make for the two of you. Ironically, it was Monika’s favorite dish. You had to substitute some factors for the second-best thing since the store ran out, but it still tasted the same.

You rushed home to begin cooking the meal before she got back. You were even dancing around the kitchen while cooking and looking back, you feel like an idiot at your excitement. At around 6:30ish, you sent her a text asking if she was on her way and received no reply.

You shrugged it off and started setting the table, assuming that she was finishing up her last class. After thirty minutes you decided to text her again and received no reply.

That's when you started calling, but she didn't pick up. You begin feeling worried, the worst scenarios coming to mind. You called around and found out that Monika was safe and healthy, but just not picking up your phone calls.

This is when you started feeling irritated. Your girlfriend of four years was ignoring you on your anniversary and it made your blood boil. But then, (maybe it was the delusional part of you that took control) you started to think she was just pulling a prank on you.

She would burst through the door at any moment now with a gift and your favorite flowers in tow, a bright cheesy smile adorning her features. But when you saw Lip J’s story, your fantasies came to a halt.

Now, you were sitting at the decorated table alone. The food had gone cold a while ago and the slow-melting candles were lighting your emotionless face. You were hurt. How dare she? How could she?

Every year without fail, neither of you had ever forgotten this sacred day. No matter the amount of work either of you had, you made sure to make time for each other on this day.

So this just confirmed how rocky things had recently been. You were lost in your thoughts when from the corner of your eye, you saw the door open. Your gaze slowly trailed from the wall to the front door where Monika had walked in.

You felt nauseous, the hurt and heartache getting to you. “I made you dinner.” You emotionlessly stated as Monika locked the door. She turned toward your seated figure and glanced at the table before looking back at the door.

“I'm not hungry,” Monika muttered, exchanging her shoes for her slippers by the door. You scoffed and humorlessly chuckled, pouring yourself a glass of wine.

Monika directed her gaze back toward you, finally taking notice of the tense environment. With a sigh, she dropped her duffel bag on the couch, mumbled a ‘fine’, and moved toward the table.

Before sitting down, she dipped her head to kiss your cheek. But, before she was able to reach it, you moved your head out of the way. She looked at you with furrowed brows and tried again, but you repeated your motions.

Her eyes darted across your face, observing your stone-cold expression before giving up and sitting in her seat. She took a bite of her serving and instantly started criticizing, “It's cold.” “Something tastes different.”

You mindlessly hummed at her statements, taking a sip of wine and keeping your eyes trained on the picture that hung on the wall behind her. Funny enough, it was a picture of you two on your second anniversary.

The two of you took a week-long vacation to Jeju Island in honor of that special day. How things have changed. “Interesting choice of wine…” Monika mumbled and that's when you decided you had enough.

You pushed your chair out and stood up, taking both plates and moving toward the trash bin. “What the fuck is your problem?” Monika exclaimed as she followed your figure.

You couldn't help the scoff that escaped your lips, dropping the plates onto the counter above the bin. “What's my problem? I made your favorite fucking food and all you did was critic every aspect of it.

There was no ‘thank you’ or ‘I appreciate you slaving away in the fucking kitchen for me as soon as you got home from work’.” You stressed every syllable, dropping the food in the trash as your voice grew louder.

“Is that what this is about? The food?” You were quick to respond to Monika’s words, spinning towards her after you reached the sink. “It's not about the food! Don't you see? I wanted to spend time with you today!

I asked you to come home early today and what did you do? You went to a fucking nightclub with your friends.” You're voice cracked a little, and you wanted to slap yourself for getting this vulnerable.

The look on Monika’s face only got you more heated. It was obvious she found your statement unreasonable as she let out a dry laugh. “Wow, I didn't know I couldn't spend time with my friends anymore. Why are you being so fucking clingy?”

Monika’s words felt like a bullet straight to your heart and your eyes began to water. You kept your tears at bay but the glisten in your eyes revealed the truth. “Stop it. I'm not being clingy. You agreed to come home early today and you didn't.” Your voice got dangerously low as you approached the other side of the kitchen island that Monika was behind.

“Well, sue me for wanting to have a little fun. I didn't know I had to be with you every second of the day.” Monika’s voice rose as she spewed her words covered in sarcasm. “But you're not! You're not here with me every second of the day. You're not even with me for an hour a week.” You cried out.

“So what? Just because I don't see you every day means I can't have a social life? Newsflash, I have a life outside of you, y/n.” Monika matched your volume, slightly leaning over the table.

“That’s not what I’m saying. You're not even listening to me! We're a couple, Monika! When you say you're going to be home early to spend the evening with one another, you're supposed to mean it!” No matter how loud you talked, you couldn't get through to her.

“You’re being ridiculous! Since I’m dating you, I can’t have any friends?” “That’s not what I’m saying! You’re twisting my words.” “It’s like you’re dating me to control me. Is that what it is?” You were shocked by the words that your girlfriend was saying.

Is that how she truly felt or was she just saying that from the anger? More tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you slowly shook your head. “You don’t mean that.” Monika rounded the counter to step closer to you, but it was like she was a stranger.

You couldn't recognize the woman standing in front of you. “Oh, I mean it. I've been nothing but good to you and this is how you treat me? I can't have fun with my friends and I have to be with you whenever I'm not working?” You took a couple of steps back at Monika’s words.

“Stop.” You breathed out, gripping the edge of the counter. You were starting to feel nauseous again. “Stop what? Telling the truth? It was like you came into my life to ruin it. Is that what you want?

To ruin my life? Because you are. You're making a fucking hellhole out of it.” Monika yelled and her words cut like knives. The tears started to slowly glide down your face. “Don’t be a bully. You're being a bully.” Your tone was hushed and you couldn't take your eyes off of Monika’s.

It was like they had an iron grip on you. Her walls were up, and it was clear she was in defense mode. Nothing you could say or do could bring them down.

“This isn't how tonight was supposed to go. I just wanted to spend time with you today. That's all I wanted. I didn't want to wait around like an idiot for you.” Your gaze flickered between Monika’s eyes and you saw nothing had changed.

“No, you wanted to ambush me. This was an ambush.” You let out a heavy sigh at what your girlfriend had said, wiping the tears away. “No that is not what this is. Monika, please listen to me. There's been this distance between us for the past couple of months and I've been trying so hard to be understanding-”

Monika was quick to cut you off. “What happened to make you act like this? You've never been this unbearable throughout the entirety of our relationship, so what changed?”

There was a moment of silence where you just looked down at the floor. You contemplated even bringing up today to the stranger standing in front of you. Your breaths were shallow as you looked back into Monika’s unwavering gaze.

“Do you even remember what today is?” Monika rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “What? Are you going to lie and say it's your birthday? Because we both know-” This time you were the one to cut her off, your voice low and as steady as it could be given the tears you were holding back for dear life. “It's our anniversary.”

A prolonged pause occurred and the silence was deafening. You saw Monika’s eyes soften at the revelation. “Baby, I'm so sorry. With work and everything-”

“Don’t start with the bullshit excuses, Monika. I have work too, we both do. I'm not just sitting at home twiddling my thumbs waiting for you to come home.” Your voice was steady and you scoffed at the solemn look on Monika’s features.

There was a whirlwind of emotions you were feeling, the most prominent were agitation, sadness, hurt, and exhaustion. “I carved time out of my day to make today special and all I asked was for you to come home early, to which you agreed but didn't live up to your word.” Monika was silent now and her eyes seemed to grow glossy.

She moved closer to you, reaching to grab your hand but you moved away from her before she could do so. “C'mon, can we talk about this tomorrow? We're both tired-” You shook your head, instantly shutting down Monika’s idea.

“No, we’re going to talk about this now. Do you even realize the shit you said to me? How hurt my feelings are?” Your eyes squinted in disbelief as all Monika could do in response was swallow and spew fake apologies. You shook your head and looked at Monika. Like, really looked at her.

You still couldn't recognize the person she had become. You regained your composure and took a deep breath. It was your turn to stop being vulnerable and start building your walls back up.

“I think we should take a break.” Monika looked completely bewildered at your words. “What do you mean? No, we're not doing that. Absolutely not.” Monika grabbed your hands before you could move them away, holding them to her mouth and kissing them as she spoke.

Your eyes began to gloss over again and you shook your head, slowly pulling your hands from Monika’s grasp. “We have to. It might be that we've been together for too long, but what you said today… I know you meant it. At least a little bit.” Tears started to roll down both of your faces and Monika quickly shook her head, spewing ‘no’s’ and apologies.

Although the two of you were standing face to face, you couldn't be farther apart. You wiped her tears and stared at her before moving toward the shared bedroom. You felt horrible inside, the sick feeling that never left was more prominent. You grabbed your wallet and keys before moving back toward the main section of the apartment.

Monika was still begging you to stay, saying how she would change and how she was sorry but you couldn't stay. After tonight, there was a cement wedge pushed between you two that would take a lot of work to get rid of.

You still loved her, that was a given, but you needed some time to heal before mending your relationship. You unlocked the door and looked back at the girl.

She was still crying and you almost listened to your heart that told you to stay, but your mind was too loud. You caressed her cheek and wiped the tears that spilled, leaving her with a teary smile before leaving the apartment.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

[wishmaster]

Morning Wishmaster. I've just followed thanks to my attraction to powerful reality bending entities, wishing to see how magnificent you are if you can grant me this wish. It's quite simple, I think. There is this muscular jock that doesn't have a lot of smarts in the head, so he results to bullying nerds. I wish to merge with him completely, to the point that the past never knew either of us being separate.

Muscle Head

First off, thanks for the follow and I hope you enjoy my content, but I guess you do since you've come to me with a very detailed wish.

Your target is quite amazing to look at, though he is more brean than brain. And damn he loves showing off online. Though he does have the body for it. So firrst of all I want you to get him to wear soemthing of yours, maybe your glasees.

You give him an old pair before you got too dependent on glasses. He slips them on after calling you a dumb nerd and punching you in the gut.

Once on he suddenly feels your gut pain and you begin to feel strange as well, his body now seems to be sucking you towards it, once your ass hits his leathers panst you feel his hard on straining against the fabric, but soon, you feel the powers of his hard on as your two bodies phase in and out until you are totally absorbed by your jock crush. You feel powerful as you both suddenly realize what's happened, in order to make sure you don't end up in the looney bin, the dominate personality takes over which surprisingly is you, Jake always figured being big and strong he'd be a dominate personality, but he quickly folds as your brains merge with his memories. Suddenly your pasts merge, you remember when you were younger and the kids made fun of you because you were smart, so in middle school you started to workout and by highs school you had become this amazing looking muscle god. Once you graduated high school, you spent a few years modeling before heading back to school where you are currently studying to be a compute engineer. For extra cash you show off your amazing body, which you are constantly posting all over the internet.

You've become quite popular and in demand, you've even thought about pausing your studies and embracing your amazing body as your need to be even more appreciated in your new form grows. Suddenly the past forgets you were both separate individuals and now you've completely embraced your new muscled bro form. The more you embrace that side of your new life, the faster your years of smarts start to fade away. You thought you could have it all but the jock deep inside will make sure that's not the case.

[ruewrote]

𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑓𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛 𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑦.

PAIRING: jacob custos x fem!reader WARNINGS: jacob's bear trap injury, strong language GENRE: angst / fluff SONG INSPIRATION: start a riot by BANNERS WORD COUNT: 1k

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out of all the horror movies that you'd watch about vampires, zombies and werewolves you never thought you'd ever be in one of your own.

especially not in the summer camp that you'd grown to love over the years.

now desperately trying to find your fellow work friends, hoping that they'd gotten to safety. you silently prayed that you would too as you made your way through the thick forest to the main lodge.

the emergency fire axe felt heavy in your hand, your skin covered in dried mud and blooming bruises. fuck this night, fuck everything.

every little sound terrifying you, not realizing how loud everything used to be until now. whether that be the crunch of twigs underneath your boots or the whoosh of the wind.

"ah fuck! ah shit!" someone whimpered in pain, moving closer as you readied the axe, moving through the trees to find jacob and an old guy with a sniper rifle with his back to you.

"look if you could just--" jacob begged, but soon stopped when you knocked the hunter out with the back of your axe.

"holy shit!" your breath staggered as you dropped to your knees, inspecting the bear trap that had clamped itself around jacobs ankle, surprised that he was even conscious. oh right , adrenaline.

"oh my god, am i happy to see you right now!" he shouts, but is quickly cut off with your hand tightly covering his mouth.

"you've got to be quiet. something is out here with us, i’m not quite sure what, but i've also got to try and pry this open. whatever you do, you've got to be silent. we can't attract more attention to ourselves, okay?" you whisper, earning a timid nod from him.

removing your hand you get to work, glad to have accidentally watched that documentary a while back you were able to press the two spring levers, making it fall open.

you were quick to grab him before he lost his balance, helping him stand, wrapping his arm around your shoulders for support and yours firmly wrapped around his waist. making a slight mental note to ask why he was practically naked later.

helping him back to the lodge for some sort of first aid. the two of you walking in tandem, your grip on him tightening as he wobbled trying to hold back his groans. you reached up for his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. jacob giving you a tight but appreciative smile in return.

your legs ache when you finally reach the building, carefully sitting jacob down on the bench in the kitchen, grabbing the first aid kit out of the cupboard, a fresh glass of water and the paper towels off of the rack.

"i’m not even going to sugarcoat this, this is gonna hurt like a bitch. but i promise i'm gonna try to be as careful as i can, okay?" you uttered and he nodded.

you began to unbuckle your belt, unlooping it before holding it out to him, jacob grabbed a hold of it confused, "to bite down on, worst case,"

not caring if it was dirty or not he bit down on it, letting out a sigh you picked up the glass of water, pouring it around the wound, using a piece of the tissue to swipe away the dirt. briefly looking up to see his hands squeeze the wood underneath him.

wincing for him, you opened a disinfectant wipe wasting no time to swipe it around his injury, making him let out a whine. stopping for a second to place your hand over his.

causing him to look down at you with tears in his eyes, your heart breaking for him. "i know, i'm so sorry. all i gotta do is wrap it up. it shouldn't hurt too bad,"

and so you did, your belt now back to holding up your shorts as you looked through the pantry for any sort of food. making sure that jacob stayed sat down even though he wanted to help.

"a-ha!" you announced, grabbing the unopened box of cereal bars, returning to jacob. "how long do you think they've been in there?" he joked.

"after tonight i think the last thing we have to worry about is expiration dates, but of course i checked and they're okay, actually relatively new so we're good."

handing him one then another for yourself, shoving the rest in your backpack. retrieving the oversized hoodie offering it to him.

"quick question, where are your clothes?"

"me and emma went swimming in the lake for old times sake, until we heard abi scream. well at least i did, emma kinda disappeared after that." his words coming out huffed as he pulled the clothing over his head.

you looked down and started playing with your hands, trying to hide the hurt on your face. of course he was with her! what were you expecting? the whole summer you had been crushing on him, having to stay quiet about it because of her.

"oh. well i'm sure she's okay, she's...strong ya know?" you offered him a small smile.

"thank you by the way," he started, your eyebrows furrowed. "with saving me back there and you patching me up. i swear i was about to die!"

he playfully knocked his shoulder into yours, looking at him concerned, "don't joke like that. i-i don't think i could handle that... losing you i mean." a frown now replaced your smile from just thinking about it.

"hey, hey. i'm not going anywhere, well not if i have a say in it anyways." he leans into you, making you look back up at him.

the way his eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips, made your breath hitch as he leaned closer, lips almost touching when you heard a girl's scream.

"emma?" jacob jumps up and limps out of the lodge, leaving you sitting there alone feeling your heartache and the tears sting in your eyes.

who were you kidding yourself? he'd always pick her.

comments and reblogs are appreciated ♡

© ruewrote 2024.

[fanfic-obsessed]

Responding to the Talk Shop Tuesdays post!

Leverage x Star Wars. Thoughts?

(I've had vague wonderings of leverage-style clone wars shenanigans but can't really get past "someone talks them into wrecking Palpatine's shit and they do" so I'm just throwing this into the air).

Alternatively, if you also have no thoughts there, favorite way you've written Palpatine accidentally shooting himself in the foot?

Oooh, Leverage and Start wars. I had not had that thought before…now I do. It’s legally required. 

I know you said during the clone wars but post Order 66 immediately came to mind. Let's start with our cast.

Mastermind: Cody (initially this was going to be Obi Wan with Cody being the hitter, but bear with me I think this will be even better). Cody deserts the empire, a broken man, lost everything. He thinks everyone he ever loved is dead.  A few years after his desertion, he gets his chip removed through a series of unfortunate events (though he never actually finds out what it is or what it does). He is drifting through life, doing just enough work to get the money to keep drinking. An honest man. And a smart one. 

Grifter: Obi Wan. After the Order goes out. After Anakin. After the birth of the twins, Obi Wan does spend a year or two on Tatooine. But Owen Lars makes a very specific good point, even a single slip up (and there are always slip ups), will bring the Empires attention to Tatooine (They believe Anakin is dead, so it is the Emperor’s attention that Obi Wan fears) and with that to Luke. It is better if Obi Wan is anywhere else. Owen is gracious in victory and agrees to updates up to four times a year.  So Obi Wan, Ben, loses himself. A new name every night, a new planet, a new voice.  The galaxy is a large place and Ben knows how to slip through and around the cracks.  Though no one has made the connection yet, a number Ben’s alias’s are wanted by the Empire, the Hutts, and the remaining Mandalorians (current total bounty’s, in credits, for all of his other aliases almost reaches the Empire’s bounty for Obi Wan Kenobi).

Hitter:  Boba Fett. Bounty Hunter. The only clone who wasn’t (who was a son). Often underestimated because of his youth. Alone by both circumstances and choice (even with Pond's death, Boba would be welcomed by most clones had he been willing to see them as sentient).  He is a teen when our team comes together and is still one of the most dangerous people in the galaxy. At first he barely considers any of these people sentient and is not sure why he is sticking around, but this is also the safest he has felt since his father had died. 

Hacker: Echo. After Tech’s death Echo found that he could not stay with the Bad Batch.  The ghosts of everybody he had lost draped around him, weighing him down, leaving Echo feeling he could not go back to the Rebels or Rex either.  He skimmed enough credits from various Empire accounts that he was able to buy himself a ship, which he then modified. He decided he would find, no matter the firewalls, every scrap of video or information regarding his lost brothers (all of them). That they would not be forgotten. When he found information that was pertinent to the Rebels, or the Bad Batch  he would send it along, but he now worked alone.

Thief: Reva. After the purge Reva hid for hours under the bodies of her friends. Before it was dark enough that her movement would not immediately give her away. Then weeks creeping through the lower levels of the temple before she could find a way to escape (All the while the giggles of her friend echoed in her head- This part of the temple had always been off limits and they had all talked about being big and strong and facing what was waiting in the dark-Reva did not feel big and strong now, but there was nothing more in the dark she feared). She taught herself to step soundlessly, barely touching the ground. She taught herself how to make herself small, or just big enough (just enough to wedge herself into a small, high, space).  It is amazing what one can learn if survival is on the line. Those hours coveted in the blood of her friends, the Force echoing with the horror her family was experiencing, then the weeks in the dark tunnels changed Reva irrevocably. Before she can be found by the Empire, she is found by a Master thief who sees in her his chance to pass on his legacy (Reva is just the right kind of broken).

Now that we have our cast, let’s look at how they come together. 

I love the Leverage Pilot, so let’s use that as a Framework.

Cody is drinking on Ord Mantell, approximately 14 BBY or 985 AAR,  when he is approached a Falleen Noble, who wants to hire him to run a job (though I do not know what the Falleen noble would say, I do imagine Cody saying Nate’s line “You know that part of the conversation where I punch you in the neck nine or ten times? We’re coming up on that pretty quick”). The Noble has hired Boba, Echo, and Reva as the rest of the crew.  The job is to steal back some plans (let's be honest this job does not matter much).  

The Job goes well, but when Echo mentions how well it went, he gets the brush off. Due to the fact that Cody still does not know about the chips, every other member of the crew has issues with clones. We speed run through the Falleen noble gathering them together for one last betrayal and an explosion. 

They wake up in a med ward. All of their DNA is being run. This is bad news. Standard panel would show that Reva is Force Sensitive (though no one else in the room knows that). It would also mark the other three as clones (Even Boba). Though the Empire does not particularly care about employing Clones, they would still pay handsomely for escaped clones.

This is where we veer slightly.  

Reva’s panic in the Force draws the attention of Obi Wan, calling himself Ben right now.  Enough time has passed (and enough has happened that all of their Force signatures had changed) that Ben only just recognizes Echo, and no one else.   For a single moment Ben hesitates, they are not his business (Ben also does not know why he was shot at) and are possibly his enemies.  But there was Echo, familiar if only just, and with him someone who was Force sensitive. A young force sensitive (in Ben’s mind anyone who is the right age that they could have been in the council room that day was someone to protect, because he failed those initiates). 

Ben is very good at grifting, so is easily able to get the four out of there (They also do not recognize him) and get them to a safe house.  There are several moments of uncomfortable silence before Ben greets Echo with a teasing, “Hello There Echo” in his real accent and voice. 

Cody is the one who frowns and peers at Ben (clean shaven), because it couldn’t be…

Echo asks who Ben is, Ben smiles sadly and says “I suppose it has been many years since Skako”

This told Echo next to nothing (he’s been back to Skako Minor a couple of times since the war) but Cody just straight up sits on the floor in shock (Trying to say general and Obi Wan and you’re alive all at once-it is a little unintelligible). When Ben looks directly at Cody for the first time (Ben can’t quite let himself focus on any of the clones, for fear of what he would see)  he realizes exactly who it is.

Ben, by sheer happenstance, manages to sit in a chair. This is followed by Echo needing to explain about the chips and order 66 (“There was what in my head!?!”/”You all had what in your heads?!?”).

I picture them absentmindedly destroying Falleen Noble, in a similar way to the show. They do it because he tried to kill them/did not pay them (Ben took that personally for all of them- Cody: He tried to kill us, that is a bit more important than not paying up Ben<waving a hand>:Trying to kill you is nothing, but not paying you is just rude.) 

I picture that they decide they might as well stay together, and grow into a found family (with Codywan being the exhausted parents) traveling around to help people ala leverage. They cannot and do not start going after the empire immediately. None of them want to draw the attention of the Empire, but if some of their jobs do include liberating people and occasionally planets, well they just have to be careful to not bite off more than they can chew and not to leave any tracks. They also do stop at Tatooine every so often (It turns out Owen likes Ben an awful lot more when he is not camped out in their backyard) so Luke knows them.  

I imagine that when Leia is kidnapped, a few years later, Bail is still able to reach Ben. The Leverage crew immediately go to save her. It is during this that it becomes known that Reva had been in the Temple, had been in the council room. This is very swiftly followed by the realization that Anakin Skywalker was Darth Vader (which none of the crew had known).

This…This is what circles them back around to take on the Empire (a cross between Leverage Season 3 and Leverage Season 4). They still work to help people, but it becomes more pointed. Throughout their new self appointed mission, Ben starts to train Reva, to help her overcome the trauma of the Purge.  

As they are now acting more deliberately against the Empire they begin to come across more familiar faces. Rebels (including Rex, Wolffe, and Gregor). Bail reintroduces them to Fulcrum (Ahsoka has mixed feelings about Obi Wan in particular. He challenges the way she remembers Anakin with rosy glasses). 

It certainly ends with Palpatine staring in abject shock as his empire burns around him.  Vader is being escorted to get correctly fitting prosthetics, from which he will go to prison. Bail ends up taking the Emperor position to start working on turning the Empire back to a Republic. 

Our team keeps going on finding people who need…Leverage

My favorite way that Palpatine shot himself in the foot is in Read the Fine Print  where Palptines first domino was his last, because he did not pay attention to a sub clause in the treaty. 

That was fun. Thank you @somestorythoughts

[acciofictionalmen]

lust life - SIRIUS BLACK

(sirius black x female!reader)

summary : you've been hooking up with james potter over the summer, but when you return to hogwarts you find yourself drawn to his best friend. you've adamantly hated sirius black throughout your school years, and you're sure the feeling's mutual... or you were

a/n : hopefully if things turn out well this will be a story with at least 5 parts (probably more)? so feel free to stick around :))

warnings: sexual references, strong & suggestive language, 14+

other parts:

PART 1 (current)

PART 2

PART ONE

Hands buried in his jet black hair, you kissed him heatedly as he pushed you against the wall. Void of any thoughts, your mind was focused solely on the rush of adrenaline that the feel of his hands on you was causing. After a few minutes you pulled away, and looked into his dazed green eyes with a small sigh.

"I should get going, the girls will start wondering where I've gone." You said, your voice dazed and distant.

He nodded almost reluctantly, looking you over once more before leaving, giving you the chance to quickly fix your smudged lipstick in the mirror before also exiting the cramped toilet. You poked your head out of the door and checked the corridor of the train for anyone who might be watching, but thankfully it was empty. Flattening down your skirt, you made your way back to your friends' compartment.

You and James Potter had been hooking up for... 3 months now, was it? You weren't entirely sure and you hadn't exactly been keeping track. It had started off just before the fifth year of school had ended, and it had continued over the summer. It was simply founded on - like most things - sexual attraction, with both parties strictly agreed to no strings attached. It had stayed that way since. Potter needed an output for his energy (of which from personal experience he had an abundance of) and you were scared to commit emotionally in a relationship but still wanted certain benefits, therefore your arrangement just worked.

⚜

Sirius smirked as James entered the rickety train compartment, his hair even messier than usual and his glasses spread jauntily across his face.

"So, how was she?" Sirius asked, humour evident in his voice as James rolled his eyes whilst sitting down.

Remus and Peter looked up from the chocolate frog cards they'd been comparing (who had gotten the rarer card: "wanna swap?" "i will for your dumbledore"), finally taking notice of James' disheveled appearance.

"Who?" Peter asked, looking between the two boys nervously.

"His sneaky link of course- the one he won't tell us about." In that moment James felt extremely vulnerable as Sirius' eyes raked up and down him, looking for any sort of clue.

Remus quirked a brow, and Peter's faced promptly turned red as he busied himself by stuffing a struggling chocolate frog into his mouth.

James shrugged, "Good. Nothing much to say really." He paused, taking notice of Sirius' suggestive expression, "And it's definitely not like what you're thinking." He emphasised the last part, picking up the latest daily prophet that was strewn across the floor. James began to rifle through the pages, clearly not reading a thing.

"Who is she?" Sirius exclaimed, ignoring James' previous comment, curiosity biting at his voice. "This has been going on for months now, Prongs, and you haven't even introduced her to us!"

Sirius paused, taking a quick glance at the blond with the remnants of chocolate frog spread around his mouth. "I mean Peter I understand.." He lowered his voice, "but Remus and I... I'm your best friend. Plus I always tell you about the girls I'm with." He said pointedly.

"Only because you have so much to say; there's a new one every bloody week." James gave up pretending to read the newspaper and gave Sirius a look. "Sorry mate but it's just the truth. I'll tell you at some point she's- just not ready."

Sirius stood up with a dramatic sigh, a sign that the interrogation was over. At least for the time being. "I'm going to go grab some pumpkin pasties, anyone want one?"

Peter raised his hand, and Sirius began to leave when James stopped him.

"Here." The boy with the round-rimmed glasses gestured to the money in his right hand.

"James." Remus muttered warningly. He knew that Sirius could never accept money from his friends. Especially not from the Potters, who from Sirius' perspective were already kind enough to allow him to live with them over the summer ever since his parents had completely cut him off.

Sirius paused at the sliding door without fully turning around, so that only the side of his face was visible. "I can handle a few pumpkin pasties, Prongs." Sirius' prior demeanour of happiness vanished, and James realised his offer to help his best friend had likely offended him instead.

James quickly retracted his hand, "Yeah mate, of course."

⚜

"-and then I hexed him, because what kind of asshole stands a girl up at Madam Puddifoots?!" Your friend and fellow Slytherin Serafina exclaimed as you burst out laughing. The two of you had always been good friends, and had gotten especially close in the past year: largely due to the fact that you had the same humour.

All of a sudden the trolley lady popped into view as she stuck her head through the open compartment door.

"Anything from the trolley dears?"

Your eyes lit up, saying that you adored food was an understatement, "I'll have a-"

"Got any more pumpkin pasties?" A voice interrupted you, a look of disdain making it's way onto your features.

Sirius Black was in the corridor of the train, right outside your compartment. This had taken you by surprise- you hadn't expected to see him so soon. You had been hopeful that you wouldn't have to see Black at the very least until when lessons began. His sudden appearance had caught you completely off-guard. Granted, he hadn't exactly changed all that much since you had last seen him- which happened to be during an extremely awkward and unpleasant encounter during the summer holidays, just as you were heading to the Potter's home to meet James whilst his parents were away. You had made up some silly excuse at the time, waiting for an hour in a coffee shop before you dared to return to the Potters' home. But then, you hadn't really had the chance to properly look at him, since your eyes had been focused on your trainers in an attempt to conceal your red face.

Mind snapping to the present, your eyes drifted again to Black. His dark wavy hair was now chin-length, just about long enough to brush against his defined jawline. From where you were sat, he seemed noticeably taller too. A shame, you thought. The days during your first three years of Hogwarts - when you had been able to make fun of Sirius Black for being shorter than you as it was the one advantage you had - had clearly long gone. On top of that, Black appeared to have visibly matured. His air of arrogance and mischief were still there, sure, but he looked more... burdened. The dark circles underneath his eyes didn't escape your notice.

All of the girls around you except for Serafina immediately began to smile shyly.

Black, completely unaware, was in the middle of grabbing four pasties when he noticed his gaggle of admirers.

"Ladies," He acknowledged with a smirk, and you got the distinct impression that he was basking in the attention, like a cat in a garden enjoying the sunlight.

That was until his gaze fell on you. "(L/n)." He dragged out your last name in a disinterested tone, the anger in his foggy grey eyes betraying how much your appearance bothered him. Apparently you still got on his nerves. Good.

Your glare somehow increased as your eyes met his. It wasn't until the trolley lady asked again for what you wanted that you broke off from his stare. Black, taking that as a sign of victory, went back to his gang of troublemakers, allowing you to finally relax and scoff your cauldron cakes. Serafina had watched the two of you interact, now deep in thought as she absentmindedly fiddled with an empty chocolate frog box.

After a few moments of bated breath followed by a reassuring click as the compartment door slid shut, the girls began to giggle amongst eachother. Their gaze flickered to you every so often as they excitedly recounted what had just happened. This behaviour was pretty normal, and so you had learned to block it out by now. The girls you and Sera were with in the compartment were just some Slytherins you'd sat next to in class before, so it wasn't like you were obliged to chat with them or anything.

Lost in thought, you leaned your head against the cool window, swirling your tongue around your mouth as you savoured the taste of the delectable cake. Here was to hoping that your sixth year would be as sweet as the chocolatey goodness in your mouth.

Saltiness flooded your taste buds as you accidentally bit your tongue.

my first piece on this blog done ! 🫣

thank you for reading! please leave a comment of your thoughts as i'd love to know what you think so far & it'd be v encouraging to know if you're enjoying the story ! lmk if you're interested in finding out what happens next ahahsh :')

feedback appreciated as long as it's done kindly <3

[imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul]

Yavin-4 Boy - Poe Dameron

A/N: I've been bopping to London Boy lately (always?) and have been itching to write, AND just recently rewatched the entire SW saga, so behold, this creation. Hopefully you'll see me more regularly, but we all know how that goes.

TS Prompt #3: London Boy

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader Word Count: 1.9k Synopsis: Poe begins to wonder if life on Yavin-4 is enough for you.

When the alarm goes off before the sun has even risen, you let out a groan of annoyance. Not that the alarm should surprise you. Since moving in with Poe after the defeat of the First Order, this had become routine for the two of you.

Where you are all grumbles and large stretches, Poe is up at the first chime of the alarm. He leans over to wrap a strong arm around you, and like always, you try to coax him to stay in bed for a while longer. Only occasionally do your temptations work.

This morning is not one of those mornings.

After kissing you at least twelve times, Poe reluctantly pulls from your embrace and heads toward the kitchen. He shuts the door behind him, knowing full well that you will fall back asleep.

Because that, too, has become habit for the two of you.

When Poe rises early, the first thing he does is start up a pot of your favorite tea from Naboo. By the time the scent drifts to your bedroom, the intoxicating smell is enough to coax you out of the sheets.

There is a mug steaming on the counter when you step into the kitchen. You take a healthy sip, feeling the warmth travel to your stomach. You hum happily and hear Poe laugh.

"I don't know how you make this so much better than me," you say as he passes behind you, smacking your ass.

"I've had lots of practice. You might be better at it if you ever made it," he teases with a grin.

"Hey, I make it in the afternoons, sometimes. You've just got the morning tea shift."

"A position I happily accept," he says as he kisses your forehead.

"When do you have to head out?" you ask quietly.

"Half an hour."

"Will you be back in time for drinks at Finn's?"

"I'll be sure to. Wouldn't want to miss the Frantxis beer."

"Well of course," you say with a laugh, wrapping an arm around his waist, "Who would ever want to miss Frantxis beer?"

"A fool."

"Precisely my thought." Your humor dims for a moment. "Be careful?" you say quietly.

"Always," he says, his dark eyes locked with yours. With a hand on his cheek, you pull him in for a kiss that lasts much too long. For this, too, has become part of your every day life.

You fell in love with a man with a strong work ethic, something he learned from his parents, from his years spent working on their farm. Even though the fight with the First Order has officially ended, Poe's loyalty to the Resistance hasn't.

When there was a former First Order base that needed to be destroyed, or a former convoy that needed breaking apart, Poe was the first to volunteer.

And he knows the strain it puts on you. He knows the anxiety that comes over you when he leaves. But it's a integral part of him, one that he cannot fight, even if he tried.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

The mission this time around is a simple one. Chances of running into any severe danger are low.

Poe arrives to Coruscant to speak to the Senate. They have been asking for a member of the former Resistance, and now the Reformed Republic, to address the Senate.

Peace was tentative, it always was. With his speech to the Senate, they hoped to work it into their propaganda, to let former First Order controlled planets know that it was safe to go back to the freedom they had known before.

Poe enjoyed the change of pace, but when he finds himself done for the day in the early afternoon, he faces a choice. He can return home to you early, albeit empty-handed. Or he can return home a tad later, and bring you an elaborate gift.

Poe was under no impression that life on Yavin-4 was easy. When he wasn't taking off with the Republic, he was helping his Dad on their farm. And on the days he was off-planet, you were there helping.

You had grown up in a life of luxury: fancy dresses, decadent food, elaborate parties every night. None of which, Yavin-4 was in excessive possession of.

After the reformation, after your marriage, Poe had asked where you wanted to live.

"With you," you had said plainly. Poe began to laugh and explain himself, but you cut him off. "I know what you meant, and my answer remains the same. Wherever you are."

So you had settled onto Yavin-4, and left behind the life you knew before.

Poe has one of the million cruisers of Coruscant fly him to a nearby shop. When he steps inside, he doesn't even know where to start. The surrounding walls are stuffed with elaborate outfits, arranged by color, all different kinds of fabric ready to swallow the shop whole. On the tables filling up the sales floor, are shoes, bags, and jewels on top of jewels.

He isn't sure where to start.

His attention first clings to the dresses coating the walls. It's been so long since he's seen you in something ridiculously fancy. He touches a soft purple dress that looks and feels like it's made of water, but when he thinks about you wearing it, in the damp forest that is Yavin-4, he laughs.

There is a reason you don't wear all the gorgeous gowns that fill an entire closet of your home. Your wardrobe these days consist of the same utilitarian type of stuff the rest of the planet wears.

Poe wanders over towards the shoes, but again, can't imagine you wearing them instead of your battered work boots.

The tables full of jewels beckon to him next, and they are overwhelming to say the least. The only piece of jewelry that Poe consistently sees you wear is the wedding ring he gave to you a year back.

A necklace catches his eye just when he's about to give up. It's a small pendant on a gold chain. The pendant itself is a black circle, and at it's heart is your home planet of Naboo. Poe knows before he's even touched it that this is the perfect gift for you. He knows that Yavin-4 is completely different from your home, but if you have a piece of it with you--

"Anything I can help with?" the sales representative asks, interrupting his train of thought.

You are pulling on a black sweater when you hear the X-Wing land in the yard. You glance at the clock in surprise. You weren't expecting him for at least another hour. You finish fussing with your hair and walk into the living room just as BB-8 and Poe enter.

"Hey," you say, hugging Poe. His embrace of you is tight. "Did something happen?"

"What? No, I just missed you," he says, before kissing you.

"How'd it go today?"

"Politics is never really my thing," he says. A non-answer.

"Do you want a drink?" you asked, already walking towards the kitchen. There is something different about his demeanor, and you fear there is something he isn't telling you.

When you hand the glass to him, he sighs before taking a drink. He must feel you studying him closely, because he looks up at you with a laugh.

"What?" he asks.

"You tell me."

"I just missed you," he says, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"I missed you, too," you say, and kiss him again. When you break apart, it's his turn to study you closely. You wait a moment, hoping he'll tell you what's gone wrong, when he says the last thing you ever expected him to.

"You're happy, aren't you?"

"What?" you ask in disbelief.

"You're happy?"

"Yes, why wouldn't I be?"

"You don't miss all the fuss of life in Naboo, or crave the hustle of Coruscant?"

"What happened today?" you ask.

"I was just reminded of what you've given up, to live here with me."

"I haven't given anything up--" you begin, but Poe cuts you off as he paces towards the living room.

"Come on, this place is nothing like Naboo. The dense trees, the farms, we're miles away from any civilization," he says, running a hand through his hair.

"You said you only needed to be with me, but after seeing all that you're missing, all the nice things that you can't have here, I . . ."

"Poe," you say, walking towards him. He is shaking slightly as you put your hands on his arms. "I love Yavin-4."

"I know--"

"Let me finish, please. I love Yavin-4. I love that we get up at the crack of dawn every morning. I love how quiet it is here. I love going to your Dad's and drinking his insanely strong moonshine.

"I love farming with the both of you. I love that we have to travel so far to get our food, and that it tastes better than anything we could ever get in a city like Coruscant.

"I love that it's almost always just the two of us. I love this cabin, how we can have sex as loud as we want, because there's no one to hear for miles." He lets out a breath of laugh at that.

"I love that I had to learn all 53 rules of Primagge, and that when we play, I usually end up throwing the cards. I love that when I go into town, I usually end up hearing stories about you.

"I love that our friends come to visit, and that we have room for them. I love that you are teaching me to fly, and that BB-8 sits at the dinner table with us most nights.

"But mostly, I love you. And you are who you are because of Yavin-4. You are Yavin-4 through and through, and I wouldn't change a single thing. Believe me, if I wanted to put on one of those gowns, I would, and I would show this forest style like it has never seen. But I don't need those things anymore. I'm just happy here with you."

Poe takes a moment before he replies. Well, before he takes you in his arms and kisses you dramatically. You are both laughing as he tips you a little, but when he rights you, there are tears in his eyes.

"I love you so much, and am so incredibly lucky."

"You are," you say simply. He walks over towards the leather jacket he threw on the couch.

"So," he says, "Given all that you just said, this might seem like a stupid gift, but I saw this when I was on Coruscant, and I couldn't help myself."

He brings over a jewelry box and when you open it, you find a pendant, with Naboo emblazoned on it. It takes your breath away for a moment, and you see Poe smile.

"I figured you should have it, so even if we stay on Yavin-4 forever--"

"Don't threaten me with a good time," you interrupt, making him laugh.

"So even if we stay here forever, you'll still have a piece of home with you."

"Now who's the lucky one," you say quietly. "I love it."

"Here," he says, taking the necklace. You turn and he clasps the necklace close around your neck. He spins you back around and examines it. "Beautiful."

"It is."

"Not who I meant."

He pulls you into his arms, kissing you deeply. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him close. Even the taste of him is home. You wouldn't change a single thing about the life the two of you live, the life you fought so hard for.

"You are my home, Poe."

"And you're mine."