#the following tags is what will be included in the ACTUAL one shot

[useralba]

FEAST FOR WOLVES — JON SNOW, ROBB STARK X READER // SNIPPET

authors note: ( nervous laugh ) haha … yeah so this stupid one shot is taking me an embarrassingly long time to complete; been rewriting it for like a week and am only now almost done — and I feel bad!!! so here’s a little snippet. 🎀

“IN HERE, NOBODY WILL BOTHER US.”

jons statement was framed by a white puff as it floated into the icy nights-air and froze. before you stood an ancient, crumbling tower; years of neglect evident, the only thing daring to climb the long-forgotten tower being vines and ivy. your eyes met jons, a huff of disbelief escaping your chattering jaws.

everything here was cold, the thought still rang true in waves of trembling shivers as the hour of the wolf drew near.

jon peered into the rubble-coated stairwell inside, his palm open and scarred with chivalry as he held it out to you; an offer of tender guidance you would need upon navigating the foreign ruin blanketed in the unrelenting decay of time. he glanced to you, hoisting the precarious barrel closer to his side as the cold wind bit at your face, his eyes patient and reassuring.

robb appeared by your side, a glint of amusement in his eyes as he gazed upon your shivering form; starkly contrasting the brothers, who stood tall and unwavering as though the dornish sun kissed their northern features.

"scarce chance of gaining warmth stood out here, my lady." robb stated, sharing a silent look of teasing with his brother, who turned to face the ruin as he inconspicuously hid his smile. you rolled your eyes, the urge to regurgitate a snarky remark fizzling out within you at the warm hand robb rested upon the small of your back; lithe fingers splayed upon the crimson silk as his breath fanned across your neck, "and scarce chance of the indulgence you seek."

vermilion leaves danced through the wind, rustling restlessly as they too, awaited your compliance. the sky above dark and twinkling; akin to jons eyes as you curled your fingers around his. a hum of agreement from you at the honeyed rasp of robbs words; merely more than a short exhale of uncertain exuberance as your wandering eyes climbed the cobbled tower: coiled, slithering vines constricting its stones from crumbling.

jons jaw clenching momentarily; his grip gentle, careful upon your hand; averse of tarnishing the regal purity of your palms — of you — with his bastardy; the sight before him however, rendering him unwilling to let go, his grip assuring itself slightly upon you — swallowing contempt; his eyes trailing the line of robbs arm, his hand obscured by the fluttering silk of your gown. robbs eyes upon where his brothers hand swallowed your own, the possessive, unnoticeable pressure of his hand pushing upon your waist.

silent snarls of territorial wolves, honing themselves for the hunt; laying claim upon their prey.

( I don’t wanna show you — my beloved @dipperscavern especially — too much !!! but I assure you, the full thing is coming soon. ) 🎀

[dcandmarvelimagines]

sweeter than you ever knew. (pt. 3)

Series: pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4 pt 5 Pairing: Wade Wilson x Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader Rating: Mature Word Count: 3.8k Warnings: AFAB reader (uses she/her pronouns), 1st person POV, non-mutant Reader, canon typical violence (mostly all off screen), descriptions of dead/dismembered bodies, reader is injured (leg injury and slapped), the kidnapper emotionally manipulates the reader, on page murder. Author's note: Thank you so much for all the support it's been crazy!!! This chapter is a bit intense, I'm not going to lie. We just need to hold hands and get through this. But I swear, the next part of this will be sooo tooth rottingly sweet. It's so long that I actually had to make this five parts lmao. I could not stop with the comfort and softness. ao3 Tags (if you would like to be included or removed, just let me know. If I forgot someone I'm so sorry!!): @fallout-girl219 @xolosimp @o0aligoth0o  @thedevilsaysthings @jaeyuni @redmitsuru5 @jeffs77 @spideybv28 @trumanbluee @jennapearce13 @chxrrybomb22 @7soulstars @what-the-jams @lostinheavensworld @purplestars222 @movieat @whiskeyghoul @paintballkid711 @unmotivated-artist164 @sun7lowxr @minniekitties @ceobuggy @amararoseblog @harryshousewhore

The first thing I felt was rough rope as it scraped against my skin. I worked my eyes open, the task feeling too great. I was strapped to an old chair. Nausea swirled in my head as I tried to take in my surroundings. It was a plain, nondescript gray room. The walls were concrete. In the middle of the room, directly in front of me, was a large iron door. It looked like something you would find in a bomb shelter. Around my chair were shafts of moonlight provided by a skylight above. There was a bite in the air that made me shiver. My breathing was uneven as I weakly struggled against the ropes. 

“I see you’re awake. Wonderful.” The man with ice cold eyes appeared from the corner of my vision, a folder in his hand. “I don’t want to waste either of our time.” He lugged a metal chair in front of me and I cringed at the horrible screech as it echoed around the room. “Where is Wade Wilson and Logan Howlett?” I blinked, my brain foggy. 

“I don't know who those people are.” The man tsked. There was a flash of anger across his calm face before it was replaced by cool indifference. 

“Bullshit, we see you coming in and out of their apartment.” My stomach churned, either from whatever they shot me with or from the creeping anxiety.

“Oh you mean Al’s roommates? I work for social services for her. I don’t know anything about them.” The man grinned. It was vicious and predatory. 

“You are a bad liar.”He sat on the chair, crossing one leg over the other. “Why do we have photos of you with both men? What? One not enough for you?” He flicked open the folder and pulled out two pictures. One was of Logan and I on the fire escape. It had been captured at the perfect moment to have clear shots of our profiles in it. The other was of Wade and I at the bar. No, not just the bar, the bathroom. I was half exposed, Wade’s face against my bare breast. The woman who interrupted us had worked for him. Now I was actually going to throw up. I had been followed for months at this point. “Now, I’m going to ask again. Where are they?” 

“They don’t tell me about their jobs, I swear. Please just let me go.” The man shook his head with a hum, sounding like a disappointed teacher, sliding the photos back into the folder. 

“I’ll leave you here for a couple days, see if that jogs your memory.” Days? 

“Wait no! Please!” But he had already disappeared through the metal door. In the doorway, I saw a woman waiting. I blinked in shock. The woman, the one from the dingy bar bathroom. She was the one who had taken our picture.  My kidnapper nodded at her before the heavy door thudded shut. Days did pass, the skylight allowing me to count by the motion of the sun. My body soon grew stiff and achy as I sat on the chair. I wanted to sleep, anything to pass the time, but I wasn’t able to calm my mind enough. The shadow of the woman never moved from the small window. I could feel her watching me, my arm hair standing up at the feeling. To distract myself, I thought of Wade and Logan, of them bursting in here and rescuing me in a blaze of glory. But as the days bled into one another, hope started to fade. 

The man reappeared after four days. He removed the chair from in front of me, opting to just stand. “Have you thought about your answer?” 

“I don’t know where they are.” It was the truth. They didn’t give me any information about their jobs. They could be on Everest for all I knew. 

“I don’t believe you!” He began to pace, wearing a line into the concrete floor. 

“I don’t care if you don’t believe me, it’s the truth.” He rushed at me suddenly, fingers digging brutally into my cheeks as he gripped me. My fists clenched as I forced myself not to jerk away. 

“Stop bullshitting me,” his voice was a venomous hiss. “Tell me now.”

“Do you not understand me?” My voice had lowered too, anger boiling inside me. “Get it through your fucking head that I. Don’t. Know. You are wasting your time. Let me go. Do it before they find me here. They’ll kill you before you can even try to fight back.” 

“Oh is that right?” I knew he was toying with me, but I fell stupidly into his trap anyways. I was angry and tired and so fucking scared. My brain was barely functioning. 

“Wade’s gonna make a necklace of your intestines.” 

The slap made a stomach churning crack. My mouth filled instantly with blood from my split lip. My cheek throbbed in the aftershocks. Tears pooled and trickled down my pulsating cheek. Another thunderous slap caught my other side. Blood splattered across my sweats. It was so hot, it practically burned through to my skin. 

“What a shame.” His hand wrapped in my hair, yanking my head back, neck stretched too far. The warm blood rushed down my throat and I gagged. “You had such a pretty face. I see why those two kept you around. It’s so nice to have some stress relief. But it seems that they’ve moved on to a better piece of meat now.” He winced when I spat at him, the saliva and blood sticking to his cheek. He touched it like he couldn’t believe it, rubbing it between his index finger and thumb. 

“When they get here they’re gonna eat you fucking alive!!” His face twisted in rage. His grip tore at my hair as he ripped my head to the side. Something pricked my neck, cool liquid rushing through my veins. My vision began to fog, body feeling too dense, brain going fuzzy. 

“Sleep well.” 

It had been days. 

I watched the sun beams make their slow progression across the dusty floor, only to be replaced by the darkness of night. My face still stung and my lip kept dripping blood. I called to the woman who was still standing there, hoping that she would take mercy and help me. But I might as well have been shouting at the wall. No one came. No one helped. All I could do was wallow in my pain and loneliness. Maybe they had really abandoned me. What was I to them anyways? Exactly what he said, stress relief. Nothing more than a convenient body. Something to pass the time. If I was worth anything, they would have been here.

My eyes had just slipped shut, head lolling to my shoulder, when the door opened. “Good morning!” It was him. My shoulders slumped, hoping I could just ignore him, that he was just some hallucination. “Your saviors haven’t appeared. So we have come up with a solution.” I opened my bleary eyes when I heard the chair in front of me creak. He clutched my phone in one hand and a wickedly sharp knife in the other. He swiped my phone open before clicking on the screen. I could hear ringing and then someone picked it up on the second one. My eyes were fixated on the knife as he flipped it, catching the hilt each time. 

“Baby cakes?! Where are you? What happened?” Wade’s voice was horrifyingly panicked. 

“Aw baby cakes?” The tip of his knife traced my cheekbone and I held my breath, hoping I wouldn't flinch and cut myself. “What a cute name.” 

“It’s not as cute when you say it,” I grumbled. My voice was thick through my swollen lip. 

“What happened? Why do you sound like you have cotton in your mouth?” The man pinched my busted lip, fresh blood bursting forward, and I whined in pain. My nails bit into my palms. Over the line, I heard a growl, letting me know Logan was also listening in. 

“Sometimes I just don’t know how to handle myself around such a pretty lady.” Wade let off a string of choice swears and Logan snarled. “She has such a naughty mouth. I see why you keep her around. But it seems you’ve left her for good, huh? She won’t be too pretty once I’m done with her.” 

“Don’t you dare fucking touch her,” Logan was spitting in rage. “If you do I swear I’ll rip that worm you call a dick and ram it down your throat.” I smiled despite myself, something warm unfurling in my chest. They were still trying to find me. After over a week, they were still hunting. 

“I told you,” I hissed, “they are going to eat you alive.” 

There was a split moment where I knew I had fucked up. His eyes snapped to me, lips pulled back in a horrifying smile.

Then the knife flashed.

The pain in my leg was indescribable. I thrashed, desperate to escape the blade stuck through my thigh. I knew I was screaming but I couldn’t hear it over the pounding in my ears. Fresh blood from my lip and tears traveled down my chin. More blood pooled under my thigh, soaking into my ruined pants. I was only faintly aware that others were shouting and someone was laughing. 

His hand hammered the knife in deeper, the wood seat cracking under me, the hilt flush with my leg. I wailed, pleading sobs of mercy clogging my throat. “Stop moving so much.” There was more shouting. My head knocked against the back of my chair. The corners of my vision grew dark. “Do you want to say goodbye? Who knows if you’ll make it to see them.” All I could do was weakly whimper. “She seems preoccupied. I’ll see you two soon.” He tapped my face, the force just under another slap. “You sound so nice screaming. Maybe I will actually keep you around.” 

He left me like this, bleeding, trembling, pinned to the chair like a piece of meat. More days passed and the bleeding didn’t stop. It wasn’t normal. I should have died like this. Cold was lingering on my skin and small shivers racked my body. My bare feet had long gone numb. Someone, my foggy vision only registered them as a blob of white, entered the room. They carefully removed the knife and then eased me out of my pants. They methodically stitched my skin together, the haze of shock covered the pain of the stitches. Once a thick white bandage covered the wound, they turned and left. 

On the fourteenth day, I heard shouting. Then gunshots. My head jerked from where I had been sleeping. Panic spiked. I needed to run. “Fuck,” I mumbled, looking around desperately for something, anything, to save me. The room was mostly bare besides a table against the opposite wall. Then I saw it. 

The knife. 

I tried to wiggle closer, but failed to move an inch. “Fuck,” I repeated, desperate now. More shouting and gunshots, closer this time. The more I fidgeted, the more of the seat fell away from under me. Think think think. I continued to sway, lifting the chair onto its sides before it cracked against the floor as it fell. Then I heard a splinter in one of the legs. I took a breath to steel myself before I tipped myself completely over. I nearly sobbed in relief when the chair leg connected to my uninjured leg was the one that snapped off. I awkwardly propelled myself across the scratchy ground, the exposed skin on my left side becoming ragged. The rope on my left wrist began to fray, just enough that when I got to the table, I was able to yank my hand off and reach blindly for the knife. The blade caught my palm but I gripped it tightly, ignoring the bite of pain. 

I made quick work of my other binds, the knife almost slipping from my wet grip, and rose to my freezing feet. My injured leg protested instantly, nearly giving out when I put weight down. But I had to run, had to escape. I limped toward the door, and looked through the small window. I couldn’t see anyone, but I heard screaming. I had to yank hard on the door to get it open. There was a dead end to the right and a long twisty hallway to my left. I took a few tentative steps out. When no alarm sounded, I sprinted. 

The stitches in my thigh ripped right away. I couldn’t think about the pain. Only escape. I clutched my stolen knife close and ducked into any small nook I could when I heard people thundering by. I should have followed them, maybe found an exit, but the squelching sounds of limbs being severed launched me forward. I turned left, left, right, middle at a fork, up a flight of stairs. I was hopelessly lost but all I could think of was escape, running on pure instinct to find it.  

The smell of blood hit me first as I turned a corner. Body parts were strewn across the wide room. Intestines dangled from the ceiling beams. Heads, half crushed, lolled away from their torsos. I wretched, nothing came up besides bile. But I could see outside through large bay windows. My legs were like water under me as I moved to the door. I stepped on an eyeball, the firm jelly bursting between my toes. Just keep going. My head was swimming, nausea from the gore around me mingling with the searing pain in my leg. 

I collapsed. I could barely feel the pain as my hands slammed down on broken glass. Then I heard two men’s voices. I scrambled to hide behind a stack of boxes, jamming my sore body into the smallest crack I could find. “I know she’s in here, can smell her.” My knuckles turned white around the knife. My breath was weak, I had lost too much blood. 

“Could you maybe sound less like a pervy vampire?” I heard boots lightly hitting the floor as they spread out. “Do you think this scared her?” He sounded timid, maybe even a little afraid. The first man laughed. 

“What do you think? You pulled this guy’s entire spine out! Of course she’s fucking scared!” The shout made me jump, huddling deeper into my hiding spot. “Fucking idiot.” A pair of red boots passed my hiding spot, then planted back in front of me. I sucked in a breath as fear rippled through me. My eyes closed tight.

“Hey,” the voice was soft, barely above a whisper. “There you are.” I was so on edge, so terrified, that the hand with the knife whipped out on pure impulse. The tip pushed through something firm, before that gave way to softness. It sunk deep, blood rapidly flowing over my hand. I couldn’t open my eyes. I had attacked someone and they were bleeding all over me. My victim barely made a noise when I stabbed them. 

“You can let go of the knife, you're okay.” A hand caressed my face and my teeth sunk into the leather glove, jaw latched tight. I felt like a cornered animal, ready to tear into anything that came near. “Sweetheart,” the name, the voice, pulled me back. I released the hand and opened my blurry eyes. Logan and Wade were squatted down in front of me. Their faces were covered but I recognized the suits. 

My knife was stuck through Wade’s neck. 

“Wade,” my voice shattered, tears welling. “I’m sorry, I-I didn’t see it was you.” He pulled the blade out with a little grunt. There was a hole straight through his throat. My stomach churned again but I held it back. The muscles and tendons laced together rapidly before the skin closed over it completely. 

“Don’t apologize. I said the height of romance was stabbing, didn't I?” Logan reached out again and brushed a strand of hair out of my eyes. A frown drew down his lips when he saw the bruises on my cheeks. “What do you say we get you out of here, yeah? I don’t think extreme violence is really your scene.” 

Logan was examining my leg the best he could without touching me. I could hear him sniffing as he leaned closer. “We need to take her to a doctor. She’s lost a lot of blood.”

“They stitched me up but I think all of them have ripped now.” My head felt so heavy. “My fingers are cold…is that normal?” 

“We have to carry you out, is that okay?” As Logan asked, Wade was already reaching for me. He scooped me into his arms and clutched me tight to him. I hissed as my thigh stretched, head falling heavily against Wade’s chest. Logan walked beside us and I reached blindly for his hand. He gave it a small kiss, but didn’t hold it. 

After two weeks, I was safe. 

I was safe. 

But we had to get out of this building first. Logan walked a head to peer down corners before signaling we could move forward. Wade moved slowly, keeping a firm hold on me. He stayed uncharacteristically quiet. I felt limp and weak in his arms, ready to sink into sleep as soon as I could. To keep myself conscious, I tried to remember all our turns, but it felt like there was an impossible amount. There was a round of clicking and the shuffle of feet as we rounded a corner. 

“Ah shit.” 

“Fuck.” 

My sore eyes opened to find rows and rows of armed men. In front of them was him. There was a cruel smile on his face as he took me in. The woman was tucked behind him, her eyes pinned on me. “I see you pulled your stitches. You should have waited for me to get you instead of trying to run off on your own.” Logan snarled as his claws extended. 

“Listen here bub. I don’t make idle threats. So best believe I’m going to follow through with skinning you alive.” Wade moved suddenly, his back to the men. He moved far quicker than he had before. I heard men readjusting their guns, their anxiousness clear.

“And where are you going Mister Wilson?” 

“First off, Mister Wilson is my father.” I groaned as Wade placed me on the hard concrete floor, safely tucked behind a stack of boxes. He stood, “you can call me Marvel Jesus.” I watched with an unfocused gaze as his hand snapped open a holster and handed me the gun that it held. “Just dropping off special cargo.” I took it, my hands shook at the light weight. There was a flash of gold along the black metal but my hazy brain couldn’t make out the text. I carefully tucked it under my leg to hide it from view. Once that was done, Wade traveled back to Logan’s side. “What do you say darling?”

“Let’s fucking go.” My hands slapped over my ears at the thunderous noise of all those guns firing. I was desperate to drown out the screams, the wet slap of limbs falling to the floor. My first instinct was to take deep, calming breaths, but my nose was too full of the scent of iron. The time stretched, the fight going for hours. 

Just as a sense of shaky calm fell over me, hands grabbed me. I recoiled instantly. “Don’t be difficult.” It was him. He was trying to pick me up, trying to move me. But my body was dead weight and he struggled to lift me. Something cool pressed under my thigh. 

Now don’t be afraid of it. If you show fear around guns, you’ll end up shooting yourself in the foot. 

Okay, see this little switch? No, not me you insatiable minx. This. Get a feel for it. If you are ever in danger you have to know where it is right away. 

He was distracted, watching something over the boxes next to me, his arms suspended in mid air. A female scream cut through the rest of the deep shouts. That rush of time, the feeling that wasn’t easy to explain, snapped. I blinked in confusion. With the man’s focus somewhere else, I put every ounce of concentration into my hands, willing them to stay still, as I lifted the gun. I found the safety and flicked it back.

Now don’t get any big action hero dreams of just pulling this trigger and letting bullets fly. It requires a lot of force, so you have to pull the hammer back first. Make sure you hold it with both hands, okay? Last thing you need is a concussion from it flying back and hitting you in the head. 

My sweaty thumb slipped from the hammer. The movement seemed to catch the man’s attention. There was a split moment where neither of us moved. Then, as if in slow motion, he reached for his own gun. I raised mine and pressed the barrel to his forehead. Both of my index fingers wrapped around the trigger. I squeezed with every ounce of strength I had left. 

You can’t look away, pumpkin. 

You gotta make sure anyone who is trying to hurt you is dead. 

I didn’t. 

One second his head was there, eyes bulging in fear. The next, just a cloud of red remained. Squishy chunks of brain, shards of skull, and a splatter of blood went everywhere. It was in my mouth, in my hair, across my bare legs. All sound died and was replaced by a dull ringing. His body slumped before it fell. I stared at it, dark red spluttering from the exposed veins of his neck, the liquid pooling on the floor. The concrete was quick to drink it up. Logan was the first to appear at my feet. He took me in, his face unreadable under his mask. I saw his mouth move but it was jumbled, words half broken. I shook my head, tapping my ears. It was like a dial slowly moving up on the radio. The sound of bullet casings hitting the ground, screams of pain, the thud of bodies. 

“You alright?” Logan sounded panicked, his loud gruff voice cutting through the renewed sound. I nodded. “We’ll get you out of here, don’t worry sweetheart.” I nodded again. There was one last shout of agony before silence fell again. Logan maneuvered the dead man off me, throwing the body carelessly away. He slipped the gun from my sticky hands before hoisting me into his arms. I buried my face in his neck, taking in his scent. Sweet, earthy, the tang of sweat. 

“We got you. I got you, sweetheart. Always will.” 

[eddiemunsonsmum]

Angel of Good Fortune | E.M x F!Reader

Eddie Munson x Female Reader | Eddie Munson x Girlfriend Reader

Summary: Eddie is very tired. Regardless, he plans a special DnD Halloween oneshot for the guys that includes a special surprise visitor. But when it comes time for the reveal, things don't exactly go to plan... For anyone involved.

Tags: Fluff, Joking, Banter, Pranks, DnD, Halloween, Halloween Tricks, Established Relationship, Small amount of Angst (bc of who I am as a person), SPOILERS for the story tags here pls don't read if you want to be surprised> Dad!Eddie, Mom!Reader, Newborn Baby, Post-Partum, Breastfeeding, Sleep-Deprivation.

Words: 9.3K

A/N: A little Halloween Treat for you guys 🧡🎃 There is a reference to Reader's body in this story but no actual body size is mentioned. Just “the same size you were before” implication that could mean literally any size because I don’t want to exclude anyone. Just mentioning it to cover my bases because I know some people have triggers about any mention of the body. ❤

~

“Wow.” Dustin whispered as he pushed open the heavy door to the AV Room of Hawkins High. The door itself was sparsely decorated with fake spider webs and some plastic creepy crawlies that had been stuck crudely around the edging.

He hadn’t been expecting much based on the exterior appearance of the room that housed all the Drama Club’s props as well as the small table that the Hellfire Club used to play DnD.

There were two entrances to the room but the other was hidden in the back just behind the large curtain on the wall and was barely used. Dustin couldn’t help but wonder absently if Eddie had put more effort into decorating the other door since he had not prepared for the effort put into the interior based on the outside.

He supposed that was why you’re not supposed to judge a book by its cover.

Inside the room was dark and lit up only by the usual candles and lamps Eddie set out for ambiance during their campaigns. But this time there was black tulle draped from the ceiling in random patterns. The fake spiderwebs weaved between them. Realistic looking bats and spiders hung throughout and there were jack-o-lanterns of alternating sizes in nearly every place that was big enough to house one.

The candles were abundant. Many more than usual and placed around on the floor as well as on shelves and in holders. Some of the Drama Club’s props that were usually hidden behind the large curtain had been repurposed to give the room a spooky edge and some had even been downright altered to fit the theme.

There was a giant cardboard windmill that some of them recognized from the 1983 School play. Eddie had pulled it out and seemed to have downright destroyed it with splatters of what appeared to be blood and other mangled remains that hung from the blades.

“Are those sausages?” Lucas whispered to the other guys, pointing towards the ‘entrails’ hanging from one of the fins.

Eddie had really gone all out for this one shot campaign they were playing on Halloween night.

His throne was adorned in warm toned fairy lights that, while not very spooky, did give it a chilling edge that they were sure would make him look even more menacing when illuminated from behind.

There was a rusted 1880s style stroller sitting behind the throne near the windmill. A headless doll hanging from the handles and another with a head- or, maybe just the head of the other.. Tucked tight into a blanket that was covered in Halloween themed items.

“When did he even have time to do all this?” Lucas asked as the Club sans Eddie followed behind Dustin into the seemingly empty room.

“When he was supposed to be graduating.” Gareth answered from the corner of his mouth, making Jeff snicker.

The clearing of someone’s throat caught their attention. Blood running cold as Eddie stepped out from behind one of the props with a tired look on his painted pale face.

“Thunny.” He said, simply. Plastic glow in the dark vampire fangs impeding his speech. 

“Altho, rude.” He added, frowning at his words and taking the teeth out of his mouth. “That is not gonna’ work.” He mumbled to himself. Fishing around for the pocket in the red and black cape he was wearing and shoving them inside it.

“It looks amazing in here!” Mike enthused as Eddie held back a smile. The fake blood dripping from the corner of his mouth moving into his marionette lines as he kept his glee at bay.

Vampire Lord’s did not smile when they received a compliment.

He didn’t think.

He would need to check.

“Yeah.” Jeff agreed with a laugh. “I’ve gotta be honest I wasn’t even sure you’d show up tonight with how forgetful you’ve been.”

A murmur of agreement rolled through the boys in front of him as Eddie scoffed at the statement. He may have almost fallen asleep driving to school this morning but there was no way in hell he could forget a campaign. 

“Come on in and sit down.” He said as unnervingly as he could muster after the stab at his memory. 

He reminded the boys of the narrator at the beginning of a Haunted House carnival ride that dared them to try not to be scared.

The difference was that they probably actually should and would be scared of Eddie.

Sitting on the throne in front of the table often flicked a switch in his brain that turned him into an unhinged maniac.

They knew they were in for some sort of Halloween themed mischief tonight. They just hoped there were no tricks to ruin their treat.

The boys did as they were told. Taking their places around the table and setting up their belongings as Eddie sauntered towards his seat and flopped down on it. Waiting with fingers intertwined atop the table for them to be ready for him to begin.

The candles flickered in the quiet room, highlighting the dark circles under Eddie’s bleary eyes.  

Anyone that didn’t know him would think he had painted them there as part of the costume and not just an everyday occurrence of late.

Once everyone was settled and the club was staring up at him with eager faces, Eddie stood. Tired body creaking as he leaned behind his chair to press play on the tape player he had hidden there. Soft, spooky music filled the room. Not very loud as Eddie still wanted them to be able to hear him talk.

“Wait…” Lucas said after a long moment of silence so they could listen to the ambient sound. “In the background… Is that… Carnival music?” He asked, looking up at Eddie with a puzzled expression.

The older man raised his brows in acknowledgement. Smiling proudly this time as he bowed to them all. Again putting on his best, most unnerving voice as he said:

“Welcome, to the Haunted House.”

~~

Eddie’s campaign was based around the guys being stuck inside the Haunted House Carnival ride. A ride that came alive with actual ghosts, ghouls and skeletons that needed to be fought off as they worked out how to escape it.

It was essentially a mini escape room without physical props to keep track of. It was unlike any campaign they had ever played before and it was clear Eddie had put a lot of thought and work into how it would turn out.

He had planned it to be short. Only spanning the one session that lasted about three hours absolute max. That was if they made a dumb move or got stuck somewhere. Otherwise they could probably be out of there in one.

He had alluded early on to the presence of someone that could help them through the puzzles. They figured they just had to say the right words or stumble into the right room to find them.

In true Hellfire Club fashion, it hadn’t taken long for things to go from zero to one hundred. Mike had made a call that nearly killed Gareth and Jeff, who was usually pretty quiet and mild mannered, had turned on him.

Eddie watched in delight as the club bickered amongst themselves about how they should have gone about the obstacle Eddie had placed in front of them.

He of course knew exactly how they should go about it but he was keeping that little tidbit of information to himself unless someone rolled a 20.

“Okay! Okay!” Dustin shouted suddenly, holding out both his hands in a ‘stop’ like motion as he tried to quell the argument between Mike, Jeff and Gareth. 

Lucas sat quietly on the sidelines ignoring the chaos as he wrote something down on his character sheet.

“It doesn’t matter! Okay?” Dustin shouted when all attention was on him. “Look it’s like a foot tall, What if we just step over–”

A shrill sound rang out from somewhere behind Eddie, cutting Dustin off mid-sentence.

The sudden sharp cry startled the group. They jumped in unison. Looking between one another and then to Eddie as they waited for the reveal. 

What trickery had he rigged up to breathe even more life into the campaign? 

“Oh! Eddie said excitedly, leaning back to stop the tape player from making the eerie sounds.  “Looks like our guest has arrived.” He explained cryptically, pushing away from the table. The feet of his throne scraping against the floor was barely heard above the repetitive sound growing louder and more frequent.

Eddie moved around behind his chair quickly standing in front of the rusted stroller and dipping his hands inside.

The guys watched in confusion. Waiting for Eddie to pull out another tape player or a walkie talkie and turn it off to stop the shrieking sound. But instead he ducked forwards pulling the pile of fuzzy halloween themed blankets to his chest and shushing it softly.

“Were we too loud?” He murmured to the blankets. Looking down at the pile in his arms with eyes that sparkled in the candlelight.

The whining cry from the baby in the blankets was calmed by the comfort of a firm chest. She cooed quietly as Eddie swayed on the spot and tapped her back with his palm. The soft thump of the repetitive motion reassuring her that she was safe as large brown eyes that matched his own fluttered closed again in his arms.

Eddie looked up at the group in front of him. Ready to apologize for the interruption and make his announcement about the game but he was taken aback by the shock on everyone’s faces. 

Furrowed brows, wide eyes and mouths hanging open around the table as they all stared at him with questions on their lips. Stunned into silence, no one moved until Jeff finally cracked.

“What…” He asked bluntly, pausing for emphasis. “Is that?”

He was pointing towards the blankets in Eddie’s arms. Being ever so gently rocked up and down by strong hands that were made for shredding on an electric guitar or rolling dice, not holding a doll.

“Who? Is that?” Dustin corrected when Eddie narrowed his eyes at the question.

“This…” Eddie said, also pausing for emphasis. “Is your way out of this ride!” He said as excitedly as he could. Somewhat affronted by the rude phrasing of the question. “It’s your lucky night. You’ve been visited by The Angel of Good Fortune.”

The silence in the room was loud as Eddie looked over them all with eagerness, waiting for someone to ask another question so he could introduce his surprise NPC in the way he had planned.

His face fell as no one made a move. The silence stretched almost to the point of being uncomfortable until Eddie spoke again.

“It’s Daisy.” He said bluntly. “She’s the angel.” He explained as if that answered anyone’s questions and didn’t raise at least six more. “Do you guys want to hear what she has to bestow on you or not?” He chuckled, shaking his head as he circled back around the throne and plonked himself down.

If it wasn’t for the humming of the stage lights above his head or the gentle crackle of the candles by his side, he swore he would be able to hear the crickets outside chirping.

“Okay…” He said simply. A sudden rush of foolishness knocking down his resolve when no one spoke. “Well I guess no one wants any fortune then.” He said bitterly.

This was not going at all how he had planned it. 

He shrugged weakly as he scooted forward to the edge of the seat and looked over his notes before speaking again.

They just continued on he supposed. He had been planning to give them all special abilities that helped them throughout the rest of the house. But if they were going to be dicks about him bringing the baby then they could get by without them.

He didn’t really want to be there anymore right that second anyway…

“Right so…” He sighed. “Dustin, you were about to try and step over the obstacle. You can’t do that by the way–”

“No.” Gareth said simply, holding his hand up in front of him as Dustin had done to him earlier.  Eddie’s head snapping up at the declaration. 

“No, we’re not doing this.” He laughed, pointing an accusatory finger at Eddie now. “Come on Man. Put the doll down.”

Eddie frowned at him as the rest of the group murmured in agreement. Nodding their heads and putting forth the same sentiments of Eddie’s Halloween prank being over now. He’d had them at first but going back to the game like nothing had happened with a random ‘baby’ in his arms and expecting them not to ask questions was too far.

“Not doing what?” Eddie snapped, frustrated at the insinuation that he was the problem when it was them and their weird reactions to his surprise.

The baby in his grasp stirred at the words. Loud and sharp not far from her little ears. She could feel his frustration and wanted to join in on the complaining.

Her eyes were open again now, bottom lip trembling as Eddie realized his mistake and quickly tried to shush her. But he’d already fucked up. New babies rarely went back to sleep a second time. Especially when they could feel that their parents were frazzled.

“Ah shi–” He behan. “Shoot.” He corrected,, looking down at her with a sad pout as she began to cry again. “You’re hungry aren’t you?” He asked rhetorically. 

Yeah, this was not going to plan in the slightest. It would be his luck that after the failure of his reveal, he couldn’t get her to calm down for him due to her being able to sense his agitated state.

She shouldn’t be hungry again so soon. If he just took a breath, he should be able to stop her getting too worked up.

He shuffled her into the tight grip of one arm as he fished in his cape pocket with his other hand. Producing a pink pacifier and holding it up in front of her. “May I interest you in a pacifier?” He asked politely, pressing it against her wailing lips and waiting with baited breath to see if she took it.

She did, briefly. Spitting the dummy quite literally as she took it from him for a quick second before hucking it out and sending it shooting across the table. The heads of all the players following its journey as it bounced once on the game board before rolling the rest of the way to land in front of Grant who stared at it as if it was diseased. 

“Nat 20.” Eddie laughed hollowly as the rest of the table slowly turned back to him at the same time and stared with matching horrified expressions.

“How did you do that?” Grant asked softly, barely heard over the baby's cries as Eddie pushed himself up again and began to pace back and forth in front of the throne in an effort to calm the little one.

“Do what?” He asked again over the cries, this time just exasperated at his lack of understanding their line of questioning.

“Throw the pacifier like that without moving your hands?” Gareth asked as if it was obvious. 

Eddie balked at the statement.

“Are you daft?” He asked after a moment of stunned silence that Daisy gladly filled. “She spat it out, you saw her.”

“She’s not real!” Gareth argued, slamming his hands down on the table and pushing himself to stand, the rest of the members following suit.

“Yes she is.” Eddie defended weakly, stopping in place and rearranging the blankets in his arms so the guys could see the baby's face. “See.” 

The six men in front of him took a step closer.

The baby in the blankets blinked at them all from her place in Dad’s arms. Her cries dying down as curiosity became her main focus. The growling in her little tummy became a background sensation for a long few seconds as she looked over at them all with wide eyes that matched Eddie’s.

She probably wasn’t actually looking at them. Baby’s couldn’t see very far in front of them when they were so young. But that was what made contrasting colors interesting. Eddie guessed she was gaping at the fuzzy bright orange spots she could see throughout in the darkness of the room. The candles he had lit to add to the ambiance, calming her as the lights flickered with all the movement in the room.

“What the fuck?” Mike asked candidly. Saying what they were all thinking as they watched the actual infant child Eddie was holding, look around the room and move her little arms around in a way that Eddie couldn’t fake even if he wanted to.

Eddie squinted at them all, eyes dark as the realization began to dawn on him that they all had no idea who Daisy was or what she was doing there with him.

“Do you guys like…” Eddie trailed off as he shook his head at them. Lips pressed together hard as he shrugged, baby moving up and down with the motion as he spoke again. “Listen, when I speak?” He asked slowly, tilting his head in a way that was probably meant to look condescending but really just made him look like a sad puppy.

The silence was enough of an answer for him. Not even Daisy daring to make a sound as her janky little movements had her staring back up at Eddie. The sound of Dad’s voice taking her away from her pretty lights and reminding her that she was hungry and he was not delivering.

Her little lips shook again as Eddie frowned at his friends. Her expression unknowingly mimicked his as she began to cry again and Eddie scowled at the six people in front of him. 

The best friends he had in the entire world.

That apparently didn’t know his daughter’s name or that she even existed despite him rambling about nothing else for the last two weeks straight.

It made him want to join Daisy in her howling.

“What the fuck?” Eddie asked suddenly, as brazen as Mike had a few seconds earlier. Looking between them all with a mixture of hurt and disgust on his face as they all stood quietly and mentally prepared themselves for the scolding of a lifetime. 

But instead Eddie’s voice was small. Barely heard over the wailing of the baby in his arms.

“I thought you were my friends.” He said simply, embarrassment welling in his chest at the way it had come out. The vulnerability he had shown with that one sentence that perfectly encapsulated how he felt about it all without having to actually say any of what he was feeling.

“Okay!” A voice rang out from somewhere in the corner of the room. Startling them all, including Daisy who went suspiciously quiet at the sound. Everyone turned at once, surprised to see…

You.

Having just jumped out of your hiding place behind the windmill. 

“I can’t do it anymore!” You shouted. Holding out your arms and making grabby hands towards Eddie. “Give her to me!” You instructed as Eddie stared at you as if you’d grown two heads, trying to figure out where you’d even come from or what you were doing there.

“What…” He asked weakly as you strode towards him and wrapped deft fingers around your little one. 

He let you take her. His arms falling limp by his side when they were empty.

“Where did you–” He began, cutting himself off. “How did you–” He started again. “WHY did you?” He decided on, tone changing from shocked to frustrated. “Were you spying on me?” He asked incredulously. Sounding a little more wounded than he intended as you turned away from all the prying eyes in the room and pulled down the neck of your shirt.

Intending to give Daisy what she needed to restore the beginnings of peace in the room.

“No!” You clarified, flicking your head towards him as you tried to get Daisy to latch and catching the hurt as if flashed through his eyes. “Well, not intentionally.” You added softly.

“You were!” Eddie gasped. “You don’t trust me?” He asked. Ignoring the rest of the people in the room as his one track mind got stuck on your appearance and he momentarily forgot he was in the middle of an argument with some of the worst friends in the world.

“No, that’s not it.” You argued back, not looking at him as you spoke while you were trying to encourage the baby to work with you.

“You don’t think I can take care of our daughter on my own?” He asked, not waiting for your answer before he continued. “You too?” He asked, nodding at you and then his friends as he remembered they were there.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “What the hell is wrong with everyone tonight?” He shouted as your guilty eyes turned back to him.

“I just wanted to see you surprise them...” You explained softly. “But… It wasn’t going to plan…” You winced, baring your teeth in a cringe as you used Daisy’s blanket to cover your modesty.

Yeah, you were right. None of this was going to plan…

All of the guys had met you before. Most of them remembered you from your senior year. Even the Freshman had met you once or twice since joining Hellfire. Had hung out with you and Eddie together over the small holiday break between the first semesters of the year.

And look, okay… Maybe you weren’t around as often as you used to be and maybe Eddie didn’t talk about you as often as he wanted to. But you both knew it wasn’t for lack of wanting to brag about the fact that he was yours. 

It was his circumstances he didn’t want to think about. The fact that he had a girlfriend in College only served to remind him and everyone else of the fact that he had failed to graduate twice now and was on a fast track to his third failure. 

It reminded them all that he was College age and should be running around on campus with you instead of in the schoolyard with them. 

Except you weren’t at College now. You were at home or… Supposed to be. Tired, cranky and hormonal. Six weeks postpartum and ready to lose your mind when Eddie had said he was planning on going out on Halloween night.

Which meant you would spend your favorite holiday sitting at home alone with the baby.

Eddie had felt bad when you’d pointed that out and offered to take her with him. The guys hadn’t met her yet anyway and he figured the creepy old stroller in the AV Room was probably safe enough to let her sleep in until she woke up hungry and he could introduce her to everyone while he fed her dinner.

However he obviously hadn’t anticipated his friend’s not knowing what the hell he was talking about.

He had told them you were pregnant and how excited he was for Daisy’s arrival. He’d had a month off school when she was born. Only returning 2 weeks earlier and when asked about his time off he had babbled nonstop for an entire lunch break about how perfect his little one was, how happy she made him and how tired you both were. 

Because damn were you both tired. 

You weren’t sure where Eddie had pulled this campaign from or the energy he had used to decorate the place. You were worried most mornings that he would crash on the way to school. The way he was barely able to keep his eyes open, falling asleep at the kitchen counter and nearly drowning in his cereal.

You were pretty sure he hadn’t learnt a thing at school since he’d been back. He was so exhausted, he could barely hold a conversation. 

Not that you could talk. You were just as bad and right now, you weren’t even supposed to be there. You were supposed to be home, sleeping.

As far as Eddie was aware, you were. You had left the AV room over an hour earlier. Saying goodbye to him and your Bub.

You did intend to go home and sleep through all the trick-or-treating door knockers.

But it was the first time you had been away from Daisy since she had been born and you hadn’t anticipated the overwhelming feeling of guilt that had washed over you as you’d closed the door with her on the other side of it.

You would have gone back in immediately if Eddie wasn’t so insistent that 1. He let you rest and 2. He was going to introduce Daisy to the guys.

He had a plan on how to do it dramatically. You had chuckled at that. Because of course he did. 

He wasn’t just going to have them walk in and be sitting there on his throne, holding a baby. 

He had written her into the campaign. When they made it to the specific spot in the story where it would be perfect to introduce her or when she woke up. Whatever happened first was fine. He was going to present her to them as a surprise NPC that afforded them all special bonuses. 

It was a very cute idea but it hinged pretty heavily on the ‘spooky’ atmosphere with the doll hanging from the stroller being a red herring and the guys not noticing your actual baby sleeping in the bed of it.

If you were honest, you thought the guys would still see it coming from a mile away but you hadn’t said anything. Wanting to let the sleep deprived new Dad have his small amount of fun. Even if the guys clocked her immediately and didn’t end up being surprised. It would still be a nice little moment for him.

You’d felt yucky about leaving Daisy behind as you walked to the parking lot. You trusted Eddie with her whole-heartedly but ‘Mom guilt’ as the midwives had called it, was strong.

You had fed her to sleep just before you left and knew she would be fine for at least two hours even if she didn’t sleep the whole time. Eddie had promised that the campaign would only take around that long and if she woke up before then and desperately needed you, he would walkie and you could drive back over since you guys only lived a couple of minutes from the school.

He had a bottle of formula in the diaper bag just in case he needed it for her. But you weren’t sure if she would even take it for him. It wasn’t an issue for her to have it. You’d just never been away from her long enough before for someone else to need to feed her. 

Not even Eddie.

You had made it almost all the way to the car before you’d stopped in place and stared at the cracked bitumen under your feet for a long moment. Not sure you could actually go ahead with leaving her.

You’d sighed, deciding to head back inside. Intending to sit in on Hellfire if Eddie didn’t outright postpone the start time to drive you home and put you to bed.

You were about to turn around when you heard someone call your name. The Hellfire guys had arrived sometime during your contemplation and were running towards you excitedly. 

You hadn’t seen them in a really long time. Probably since you were in your first trimester of pregnancy.

You had found out you were expecting in the middle of your first year at College and you were determined to finish at least one year before the baby arrived. So trips home to see your love were rare. When you did make it back to Hawkins you were so exhausted from working overtime to get your coursework done that you just wanted to spend time at home with Eddie. Enjoying the last of your quality time together before you became a family of three.

It was nice to see the guys briefly in the parking lot of Hawkins High like old times. It cheered you up somewhat and you spent a long few minutes catching up with them.

However, it had become apparent pretty quickly into the interaction that they had no intention of congratulating you on the birth of your first child. A very strange interaction if you were honest but you kept up the friendly face as if nothing was amiss.

It wasn’t until Gareth had rolled his eyes and said:

“You know he’s telling everyone you just had a baby.”

The rest of the guys had chortled at the notion, making you frown as he continued somewhat candidly.

“So obviously that’s not true.” He said derisively, gesturing towards your body and making you bristle. You supposed the implication was that you were the same size you had been the last time they had seen you and there was no way your body could have grown and nourished a child over the last nine months and then gone back to looking the same as it did before within such a short span of time.

These assholes…

You’d thought to yourself, not replying as the men in front of you all nodded in agreement with Gareth’s statement. 

Did they expect you to suddenly shape shift into a different person just because you were a Mom now?

I guess they will be surprised.

You’d concluded, smirking to yourself as you bid them a terse goodnight and watched them walk inside the building with the belief that Eddie was lying about his personal life.

Well, you certainly couldn’t go home then. It seemed like Eddie was going to be able to put on quite the show and you wanted to see how it panned out. 

Afterall you figured you’d probably only just make it home before you were being called on the Walkie to come back.

You had snuck into the AV Room via the second entrance and hid behind the curtain at first. Moving closer and dipping down behind the windmill as you tried not to laugh at the sound of Eddie talking with fake fangs in his mouth.

You had slumped down on the ground and waited way longer than you had thought you would have to. Not proud of the fact that you had nodded off once or twice. Jolting awake after a particularly loud exclamation from someone at the table and hoping you hadn’t been snoring.

You guessed this was probably the typical newborn experience. Baby never sleeps more than an hour at a time except for when you, yourself could be sleeping but had chosen not to because you had been convinced she would need you again within minutes.

Just when you were starting to think you’d have to ruin Eddie’s surprise by standing up and checking that the baby was still breathing, she had begun to cry and you had done your best to shuffle out of view so Eddie didn’t see you when he moved towards the stroller to pick her up.

He was too distracted by her to notice you anyway. Thank goodness because you had not thought about the implication of hearing the baby cry and your body responding to it, ready to do its job. You had been distracted by your aching breasts and the milk leaking into your bra that Daisy could definitely smell from her place on Dad’s chest about three feet away.

There was no way he was getting her to settle now. Mistakes had been made and you knew then that it was only a matter of time until you had to reveal yourself to help Eddie out. It was just the matter of when exactly to do it so that you didn’t ruin the moment Eddie had been planning all week for.

Luckily for you, you supposed, the guys had ruined it for you. Being rude and not believing the baby was even real.

You felt bad for not correcting them in the parking lot. But you hadn’t done so on the premise that Eddie would get to have his fun reveal moment.

“Happy Halloween…”  You grimaced at the guys, turning to them and taking in the shocked expressions around the table. Each boy appeared to be in a different stage of grief as their eyes roamed from you to Eddie, to the baby in your arms, back to Eddie, back to you.

“But…” One of them began, trailing off as Eddie looked between you and the guys as well. Trying to figure out what he had missed. 

“Wait…” Someone else started, also trailing off as they tried to make sense of the situation.

“What the fuck is happening?” Eddie murmured under his breath, just as confused as everyone else. 

So you weren’t spying… But you didn’t go home? What did you mean Happy Halloween? Were you pranking them? Was that directed at him or the guys?

A thousand questions ran through his mind at once. He opened his mouth to ask some of them and was immediately cut off by Gareth.

“You don’t look pregnant!” He shouted, again gesturing at your body and making your eyes darken dangerously as Jeff elbowed him in the ribs.

“I’m not.” You replied curtly. “I was.” You clarified, one hand tapping against the baby’s bottom to make your point. “But I’m not anymore.”

“But you didn’t…” He gasped out, winded from being elbowed. “You didn’t say that–” He tried, voice strained.

Eddie turned to you with a questioning gaze. Brows raised as he waited for an explanation.

“Didn’t say?” He asked you, specifically. “When did you even see them?”

You sighed softly, deciding to explain to the whole room and answer Eddie’s question all at once.  

“Eddie wanted to surprise you.” You huffed to the group, as if that much was obvious. “I figured if I corrected you when I ran into you earlier that you would know straight away that Eddie had the baby because she wasn’t with me and the surprise would be ruined.” You said with a shrug, finally turning to Eddie. “I ran into them in the parking lot and it was obvious they didn’t realize you were telling the truth about Daisy so I let them run with it for the sake of the dramatics.” You said apologetically. “I just wanted to see how that played out before I went home.” You added, peeking down at Daisy under the blanket covering her and making sure she was alright. “But, it didn’t go as I expected.” You admitted.

“Oh.” Eddie replied quietly, following your eyes to the blanket and frowning to himself as the room fell silent once again.

He appreciated the sentiment but it hadn’t exactly helped him. Although he supposed, you were right and it probably wouldn’t have helped him keep his surprise if you’d corrected them either.

Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be.

He had been so excited about his little Halloween oneshot. But none of it had worked out anywhere near how he thought it would.

He was feeling defeated.

“I’m sure it was all a misunderstanding.” You continued loudly, interrupting his thoughts as your eyes bored into each of the men in front of you in turn. Desperately trying to get them to say something that corroborated your ‘theory’. “Because they are your friends and they do listen to you.” You added through gritted teeth when no one spoke up.

“Yeah!” Grant defended quickly, catching your drift and jumping into action. 

“We are.” Gareth agreed.

“And we do!” Jeff piled on.

The freshman nodded along as well. Big smiles on their faces as Eddie scowled at them all, looking a little too sad for someone that was dressed as a vampire.

“It’s just that like…” Jeff began, looking to Gareth and Grant for back up.

“You fuck with us a lot.” Gareth finished, a murmur of agreement making its way around the table as Eddie scoffed at them derisively. 

“I do not!” He argued meekly. Shrinking under the collective tired stare of the group and also your knowing gaze from by his side.

“What about when you said your Dad hatched an elaborate plan to steal drugs from his former partners and sell them to Rick for a quick buck?” Jeff asked, arms crossed over his chest.

“That happened!” Eddie justified, throwing his shoulders up as the guys all exchanged sneers. 

That did happen. 

You hadn’t been dating at the time but you knew about it from your place on the sidelines. You opened your mouth to defend him but didn’t get it out before another example was being thrown around.

“Well, what about when you told us that some assistant to a big music producer.” Gareth paused, waving his hands around to emphasize how silly it sounded. “Came to The Hideout and scouted Corroded Coffin before I joined and tried to take you to L.A to become a rockstar?” He laughed, turning to the guys for support and frowning at Jeff’s grimace.

“That did actually happen, I was there for that.” He interjected, one finger pointing towards the ceiling.

“See!” Eddie gestured towards him with his whole hand.

“Okay well guys come on…” Gareth continued. “He also said that Chrissy Cunningham tried to buy drugs from him the night she died.”

“She did!” Eddie exclaimed, voice higher than usual.

“And don’t forget that he’s apparently friends with Steve Harrington now.” Grant laughed heartily, the older guys erupting into laughter as the Freshman exchanged anxious looks with one another. 

“That’s also true!” Eddie argued incredulously before Dustin piped up:

“Yeah, that one is actually true too.” He said, hissing through his teeth.

“It’s all true!” Eddie shouted, desperation in his tone. 

“Look, the point is Eddie you lie like, all the time.” Gareth justified weakly, gesturing around the room as if any of them had actually managed to come up with a solid lie Eddie had told that hadn’t been corroborated by other person in the room. “So…” He said, dragging out the word.

“But I’m not lying!” Eddie argued, bordering on whiny. “All of those things happened to me! Including this!” He added, thrusting his hand towards you and the baby.

Silence fell on the room once more. The slap of Eddie’s hand falling back against his thigh seemed to echo in the small space as he shook his head at them all. Turning to you with pleading eyes as if to ask you to convince them he was telling the truth.

You felt bad for him, smiling apologetically as you slowly slipped down to sit in his throne. Your tired legs giving out as you waited for someone else to say something. You weren’t sure why they still seemed to look unconvinced or what you could even say to persuade them. 

You were literally holding the baby in front of them. All the evidence they should need to understand.

A sniff caught your attention and you looked back up to Eddie quickly, horrified at the thought that he had potentially begun to cry. But to your surprise he was now looking back at the guys, a puzzled expression on his face as the sound happened again.

Your own head turned to look them over, watching in confusion as everyone stayed so defiantly staunch that the quiver of Dustin’s lips and the small change in his breathing was as obvious as if he had just burst out into laughter immediately.

Mike’s elbow connected with his side gently. A motion that was meant to be discreet but again in the stillness of the room seemed as blatant as if he had just tackled the other boy to the ground.

“I can’t keep it in…” Dustin ground out, his eyes wide as the other guys all began to huff and sigh. The barely contained laughter of the kid that was decidedly, Eddie’s best friend, was infectious. Lucas sniffed as well and snowballed Grant into a snort that triggered Jeff.

Slowly one by one the group began to laugh. Soft murmurs of mirth at first that quickly turned into the hearty sound of chortling as they all nodded at one another knowingly, as if making a silent decision before Dustin turned to the head of the table.

“Trick or treat!” He shouted, throwing his hands up and leading the rest of the club into doing the same.

“Trick or Treat!” They mimicked. Shouting in synchrony and throwing their hands up in unison as if welcoming the guest of honor into a surprise party.

Eddie balked at the exclamation, not expecting it and certainly not understanding it at all.

Was he the guest of honor?

“What?” He asked tiredly, shaking his head and slumping his shoulders. He had no idea what was going on. Exhausted with the shifting emotions in the room as the guys all seemed to delight in the notion that he still didn’t understand.

“The ultimate trick!” Gareth clarified, pointing at the DM with a brave finger as Jeff and Gareth clapped each other on the back. 

“You fell for it.” Mike laughed, seeming genuinely surprised.

“Damn, I guess having a baby really does mess with your brain.” Dustin theorized as you and Eddie shared a look of bewilderment.

“Wait…” It was Eddie’s turn to trail off. “What?” He asked again, mirroring the way the guys had asked it earlier. “What’s going on? I’m so confused.” He complained, rubbing at his forehead with one hand as he tried to make sense of the situation.

“Oh damn.” Jeff laughed, wincing. “I feel kind of bad.” He mumbled as Eddie scowled at him.

“Dude…” Grant said loudly, commanding Eddie’s attention. “We were pranking you Man.” He laughed, gesturing towards you and the baby. “For Halloween?” He said slowly, dragging out the words as if Eddie was too simple to understand them. 

“Of course we know who Daisy is.” Jeff laughed awkwardly. “How could we not?”

“Yeah you haven’t exactly shut up about her since you’ve been back.” Mike added, groaning as Dustin got him back for the elbow earlier.

“Yeah I didn’t think you’d fall for it.” Jeff admitted uneasily. “Honestly I thought Mama Bear over there was gonna’ murder Gareth for the comment he made outside.” He said scandalously as Gareth had the decorum to shoot you an apologetic look.

“You look amazing by the way.” He said quickly as both sets of eyes turned on him and Eddie had to stop himself from asking what the comment was unless he wanted this to become an actual haunted room.

Although he wasn’t too worried about Gareth’s ghost disrupting his sessions anymore than alive Gareth already did.

“Wait so…” Eddie said again, closing his eyes and making the group groan collectively as he desperately tried to make sense of the situation. 

“Okay, this has kind of spiraled from fun into mean.” Mike interjected, looking around at the other guys and all of them nodding in agreement. “We knew you guys were tired but we didn’t realize you were that tired.” He said with a grimace.

“Yeah…” Dustin agreed as both you and Eddie stared at them all blankly, trying to wrap sleep deprived brains around the situation. “It was meant to be a really simple prank. Like opposite day or some shit.” He laughed uncomfortably. “We didn’t think you’d take us seriously, I mean we’ve seen a picture of her for Christ’s sake.” 

Eddie had momentarily forgotten about the polaroid he’d taken of Daisy not long after she was born. Currently residing in his wallet after having been passed around the lunch table six times over until he finally decided she’d been given enough compliments and took it back.

“Oh.” Eddie hummed, ruminating on his first week at school and remembering, vaguely, the interaction.

He didn’t remember too much of the last six weeks in general if he was honest.

“That was mean guys.” You murmured with a frown. Trying not to be too hard on them since you were honestly just glad that they hadn’t truly believed Eddie was lying about his personal life.

You looked to Eddie. Waiting for him to say something but instead you were faced with the blank stare of a man that you were pretty sure still didn’t truly understand what was going on.

Dustin took it upon himself to take a step forward.

“We knew you were going to do something insane tonight. It wouldn’t be Halloween without you trying to pull the wool over our eyes somehow and we kind of thought you had been setting us up for a big prank for the last month so... We all agreed to just roll with whatever it was, no matter how insane we looked and prank you back.” He explained, waving open palms over his face in big exaggerated movements to show the scale of their operation.. “But now it’s sad.” He said with a nod, lips pressed together and brows raised in concern as Eddie narrowed his eyes at the other man. 

The kid ignored it, placing a grounding hand on Eddie’s bicep. 

“Congratulations man.” He said definitively, watching as Eddie’s brows shot up in surprise. “You’re a lucky man.” He said, nodding at you and the baby.

Eddie took in a sharp breath, turning himself away, unexpectedly overcome with emotion at the statement.

It was really all he wanted from them in the first place.

An acknowledgment of his new life and how lucky he was to be living it.

“Yep. Thanks.” He said quickly, refusing to look at them. “You know you’re supposed to let me choose if I want a trick or a treat right?” He asked, his sentence clipped with the terse edge of someone that was trying not to cry. “You can’t just yell trick or treat after tricking someone.”

“You tricked us first!” Gareth argued at the statement. Jeff’s hand landed heavy on his shoulder as Eddie whirled back around to face them suddenly. Emotions forgotten or maybe just consolidated into anger as he took offence at the blatant lie.

“It wasn’t a trick!” He gasped, scandalized. “It was a surprise!” He panted. “With treats!” He added, throwing his arm out towards the unfinished game in front of them. “The Angel of Good Fortune had gifts for you all!” He exclaimed, gesturing wildly at all of them at once as he stared incredulously at the ungrateful group before him. “No wonder the poor thing was inconsolable, you ingrates wouldn’t accept her presents.” He said pointedly, crossing his arms over his chest as you stifled a laugh at the statement.

Yes, that was why. It had nothing to do with Mommy hiding a few feet away and leaking dinner into her bra.

You didn’t say anything, letting Eddie have the win as you looked down at your little angel and realized she was finished eating already.

You shook your head at her. 

The audacity to make all that fuss and only feed for a few minutes. 

She obviously wasn’t hungry and should have taken the pacifier but all the yelling from the club had startled her into wanting Mom when she knew she was nearby.

Or maybe Eddie was right. You conceded privately. She was just upset that the guys didn’t accept her gifts.

You smiled at the thought of Daisy growing up to DM just like her Daddy.

No doubt she would be just as dramatic.

You shifted her in your arms as the boys argued. Covering yourself up again and removing the blanket so she could breathe easy now that she was content to lay still in your arms.

She blinked up at you with milk-drunk eyes, lids falling closed slowly as she began to drift off again. Her little lips sucked at the air and made you smile.

“And another fucking thing!” Eddie began, startled by you tugging on his cloak and jerking your head towards the baby in your arms.

“Language!” You chastised gently. As if the poor thing hadn’t been listening in on some of the most intense arguing you’d ever witnessed for the first hour of the session. 

“Oh, sorry.” Eddie said quickly, turning back to the guys. “And another… Thing!” He repeated, omitting the swear, this time stage whispering as he pointed at them. “Your ass- Uh, butts, are still stuck behind that obstacle!” He whisper-shouted. “Good luck getting through them without the Good Fortune she would have afforded you.” He snipped, waving his hand towards the baby.

Silence descended on them all once again as all eyes in the room turned to look at Daisy.

“Why can’t we just step over—“ Dustin began to ask, being cut off by Gareth.

“Can’t she just give us our fortune now?” He asked with a shrug, looking between the baby in your arms and your boyfriend who looked as though he was ten seconds away from a conniption.

“No!” He snapped, exasperated. “You lost that privilege when you decided to pretend she wasn’t real.”

“Oh come on Eddie, please!” Mike pleaded, turning to you instead when his pleas fell on deaf ears. “You were as much at fault as we were!” He defended weakly. “Can’t you convince him?”

Eddie’s attention snapped to you quickly, a warning in his dark eyes as he wordlessly told you that no, you could not.

“Well…” You began, Eddie’s eye twitching at the word. “I think maybe you should let Daisy decide if she wants to give you her good fortune.” You said casually, making the teen scoff. 

“But she’s a baby?” He said in a weird way that was halfway between a question and a definitive statement.

Eddie gasped suddenly, turning back to the guys with glee in his eyes as he smiled at them with the unhinged grin they had come to both love and fear.

“Yes.” He said breathlessly. “Yes, let Daisy decide!” He said a little too excitedly. “You’ll probably have to beg.” He added, unable to keep the mirth from his tone as he leaned down to you and gestured for you to move closer to the edge of the chair.

You did so, scooching forward and holding the baby a little further from your body as you angled her towards the guys,

“She won’t stay settled like this.” You warned Eddie. “Better make it fast.”

“That’s the plan.” He murmured so only you could hear.

You sniffed out a laugh. 

Of course it was. 

Anything to make the club suffer a little harder after they’d pulled one over on the DM.

You figured you’d probably be taking Daisy home now anyway. May as well let Eddie have his fun watching the guys beg as penance for their sins and then deny them their fortune that would help them get out of the haunted house ride before midnight.

They were going to have a hell of a time with all the disadvantages Eddie gave them after Daisy cracked it from her uncomfortable position and he could claim that not only did she refuse to give them her fortune but that she had handed them some misfortune as recompense.

“Alright, who’s begging?” Dustin asked jovially. Hands on his hips as he turned to the group, ready for a manly discussion only to find that all eyes were on him. “Oh come on!” He shouted, throwing up his arms in exasperation. “Fine!” He sighed, a little too quickly, taking a breath and turning to you with conviction.

He knew he wasn’t winning that argument and he wanted to get this over with as fast as possible.

“Please!” He exclaimed suddenly, dropping to his knees in front of the throne and pressing his hands together in prayer. He bowed towards Daisy. Trying his best to ignore the unhinged smile forming on her Father’s face and the disappointed look on yours. “Please oh Goddess of Good Fortune–”

“Angel.” Eddie interrupted, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

“Oh Angel of Good Fortune.” Dustin corrected, “Please choose to still mpart us with your wisdom–”

“Gifts!” Eddie said sharply.

“Gifts!” The kid corrected again, looking up at Eddie with narrowed eyes before turning back to the baby. “Please impart us with your generous gifts and help us through this obstacle we are stuck behind and are not allowed to just step over.” He said derisively, making the group behind him chuckle.

“What do you think Baby?” Eddie asked Daisy directly, bending down and resting his hands on his knees as he stared at his newest love with doe eyes. “Should we still give them your gifts?” He asked, voice gentle and softer than they’d ever heard before as he cooed at her.

Daisy blinked up at him. Paying no mind to you or any of the other people in the room, least of all Dustin as she shifted uncomfortably. Little lip beginning to tremble.

“Well.” Eddie laughed, pushing his palms off his thighs and standing straight again. “I think that-” Eddie began, looking at Dustin smugly.

“Oh my God!” You gasped suddenly, cutting Eddie off and making his head snap back down towards his daughter. He watched, mouth agape as she moved her little head up and down. Seemingly nodding in response to his question.

“What the fuck…” He whispered hastily, recoiling.

“Language!” You chastised again, tone wavering as you also stared in shock at your newborn that had apparently understood her Dad’s complex question.

Now that was spooky.

“How did you do that?” Eddie asked Dustin quickly, reminiscent of the way they had asked him when Daisy had spat the pacifier across the table.

Dustin shrugged, looking just as bewildered from his place on the floor. His hands that had previously been outstretched as if in prayer were now withdrawn to his chest as he leaned away from the baby.

Wary of her.

He turned back to the group slowly. All of them standing there in shock as they watched the interaction between their teammate and what appeared to be a completely conscious baby.

“Well, it’s settled then.” Gareth said quickly, everyone turning to him slowly as he shrugged and gestured towards the table with one hand. “The Godd- Uh, Angel, has spoken.” He smiled, looking around at the other guys and jerking his head towards the game. “Shall we?” He asked, pulling out his chair and sitting down in front of his character sheet.

No one else moved for a long moment. Not even you as you stared down at your little one and tried to figure out if she could understand you or not.

“Uh… Sure.” Eddie replied when no one else made a move. He turned to you with worried eyes. “Did you want to…” He trailed off as you snapped back to yourself, realizing Daisy was probably still uncomfortable as she wriggled around in your arms. You repositioned her, nodded at Eddie’s question with an equally concerned expression.

Yes, you definitely wanted to go home and yes you would take the baby so the guys could finally finish their ill fated journey through the haunted mansion. 

Even though you were honestly a little scared of her right now and wished Eddie would come with you.

Maybe you’d go and visit Wayne instead…

“I’m sure Eddie can speak for The Angel.” You chuckled awkwardly. “She needs to go home and get some proper rest in a quiet room.” You explained, leaning towards the diaper bag Eddie had stashed under the table and stopping half way as he dove for it instead to save your back. 

“I will speak for The Angel…” Eddie began, frowning as he helped you get up from his throne. “Even though I am starting to wonder if she can speak for herself…” He added quietly, sounding skeptical. “But first I’m gonna walk these guys to the car.” Eddie said apologetically, placing a hand on your back and turning towards the main entry of the room as you bid goodnight to the club.

“Oh!” You said, stopping by the door. “The pacifier?” You asked Eddie. Watching as he pointed a finger in the air and turned back towards the guys.

“It’s right he-” He paused, sidling up between Dustin and Mike and staring at the blank spot on the game mat where it had landed earlier.

“Here!” Gareth interjected, finishing Eddie’s sentence as he held up the pink paci and made a motion like he was going to throw it. 

Eddie held out his hands in response.

“Thanks man.” He said, as he caught it between his palms. Returning to you and leaving the club in stunned silence as you both left the room and headed towards the parking lot.

“Really?” Dustin asked, sounding exhausted but impressed none-the-less. “Using the pacifier to make the baby nod?” He asked as Gareth grinned from ear to ear and each of the other members of the club began to catch on to what transpired earlier. “You realize they’re scared of their baby now?” He asked. “That’s diabolical.”

“Not as diabolical as you pretending we all planned a prank and totally knew what the fuck was going on earlier.” The other teen shot back immediately, looking around after he spoke in fear that Eddie had somehow returned without them noticing.

“I’m just surprised you all caught on to be honest.” Dustin said earnestly as they all argued back about the statement.

“Seriously though…” Grant began when the shouting died down. “Did any of you think that baby was real for a second?” He asked quietly, eyes flicking towards the door as an affirmative murmur moved around the table.

“God no.”

“Not a chance.”

“Nope.”

“Absolutely not.” 

“Good.” Grant nodded. “I stared to think I was the only one that thought Eddie was full of shit.” He admitted, falling silent as the sound of Eddie’s footsteps coming back up the hallway forced them into a huddle to discuss how they were going to move through the obstacle they were stuck behind if Eddie decided they really didn’t deserve Daisy’s gifts.  

“Sorry about that guys.” Eddie sighed as he slumped down in his throne once more. He leaned back in his chair, ready to press play on the tape player and resume the ambient sounds. His fingers sliding over the buttons and furrowing his brows as he picked it up instead so he could look at it. “Ah shit.” He laughed, holding it in his lap.

“What?” Dustin asked, looking between the DM and the device.

“I thought I stopped it, but I guess I hit record instead.” He sighed. “Oh well, I guess it’s a good thing.” He shrugged. “Daisy will get a kick out of your prank one day.”

~

A/N: I hope you guys like this little Halloween Treat. Please let me know if you did. I don't really write x reader fics anymore so would appreciate the encouragement. xx

[zepskies]

Lost on You - Part 8

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader

Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.

AN: Here we go. Diving into Nicaragua, and beyond…

Song Inspo: “Who’s Crying Now” by Journey

Word Count: 4K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Violence, implied torture, heavy angst (and a twist ending).

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Part 8: For Whom the Bell Tolls

March 1984

When you got into Payback, you didn’t sign up to be part of a war. You knew you weren’t a soldier, and frankly, the rest of you had no business being here either. This was a CIA base, being run by a no-nonsense officer, Grace Mallory. You had no intention of getting in her way.

Nicaragua was hot and surrounded by jungle, not exactly conducive to a leather suit. You kept to the shade by yourself and watched Swatto, Ben, and Gunpowder makes fools of themselves after Grace tore them a new one. You respected anyone who could go toe-to-toe with Ben without even flinching, especially as a non-supe.

Then again, he had poured on his usual “charm.”

“You know, with a figure like yours, you are wasted down here,” he said.

You rolled your eyes. Grace didn't even give him the time of day. Stan chimed in, presumably to explain Vought’s apparent “partnership” with the U.S. military for this mission. Ben walked away from her, barely glancing in your direction along the way.

That suited you just fine. Things had been frosty between you two for the past month, but as long as you stayed out of his way, he didn’t butt into yours.

Days later, you wanted nothing more than to go home. Sleeping in a tent was not your bag, and especially not using the restroom outdoors. Would it be considered desertion if you booked a flight home right now?

You escaped your tent with a huff, swatting mosquitos as you went. You’d tried to take an afternoon nap, but who could sleep in this heat?

“Not exactly a luxury suite, is it?” Black Noir said. You jolted, realizing he was standing just a few feet away without his mask on. It was refreshing to see his face, but you were still a bit sour toward him.

“Oh, you’re talking to me now?” you said dryly. You began walking toward the mess tent. Noir joined you.

“Well, it looks like you’re done playing your little game,” he said, raising his brows meaningfully at Soldier Boy. He seemed to be trying to chat up Mallory again.

Good fucking luck there, you thought. She already looked bored.

You turned to Noir with a flat look.

“We’re all playing a game, Irving. Just at different levels,” you said. “For example, what were you talking to Stan about?”

You’d seen them a couple of hours ago, hidden behind a fortified stone wall. Noir stopped walking. You were curious enough to follow suit.

“Something that could change everything for all of us,” he said. “You included.”

Your brows knitted together. “What’re you—”

Shots rang out in the clearing. Noir covered you when a grenade blasted the ground just a few feet away from you.

"You okay?" he asked in concern. You nodded shakily. He steadied you with a reassuring hold on your arms.

“Come on!” he said.

“What’s happening?” you exclaimed over the noise. You were terrified, and you definitely weren’t trained for this.

You let Noir lead you through the camp. When men in faded green uniforms came at you with guns, he took most of them out. You managed to duck under a man’s gun and touch his face, compelling him to sleep.

“There you are!” said Countess. She had the TNT Twins and Mindstorm in tow. For once, you were relieved to see them.

Finally you made it into a clearing where Ben was fighting with his shield at the ready. He punched out another enemy soldier who fell to the ground. He turned to see you, and then the others in your team beginning to surround him. You frowned in confusion and looked at Noir.

“What’re you doing?” you asked in worry. He glanced at you, but didn’t answer.

“What the fuck is this?!” Ben said angrily.

“Something we should’ve done a long time ago, you piece of shit,” Noir said, his tone icy and determined.

The TNT Twins attacked first. It managed to knock Ben to the ground. You were frozen in shock when Countess and Mindstorm joined in, along with Noir.

“Stop!” you said, but no one heard you. What the fuck is happening?!

They had Ben going for a minute, as their triple teaming managed to keep him on the ground…just not for long. With a grunt, he shoved them all away with a show of strength.

“Sirena!” Noir finally called to you, his gaze imploring you to help them. 

“No, stop!” you shouted back. You couldn’t watch this fight happen again. Because this time, Ben would kill him. He’d kill all of them.

You headed for Ben and Noir, but a gloved hand stopped you. It grabbed your wrist and turned you around, right into Countess’s waiting fist. You cried out and stumbled, but you found purchase on one of the stone walls. Before you could recover, she grabbed your shoulders and kneed you hard in the stomach.

Shit… You tasted blood when you went down, heaving for breath. She packed one hell of a punch in those little gloved fists.

“Been waiting for this, bitch,” she hissed from above you.

The second she got close enough, you grabbed her by her long hair and punched her as hard as you could in that fake-ass nose. Then you kicked out with both feet into her stomach. She doubled over and fell back on her ass.

You managed to roll and stumble onto your feet. You glanced over quick and saw that Ben was beating Noir within an inch of his life.

“Ben!” you shouted, wanting to stop him, but that was when Mindstorm stepped in front of you. His eyes met yours, and it became a battle of wills as he tried to shove you deep into the darkness of your inner world.

You could play mind games too though. You fought his hold, with every scrap of your consciousness, and you even managed to take a few steps forward. If you touched him, it would be over. As a man, he wouldn’t be able to withstand your own powers.

And your plan might’ve worked, if Countess hadn’t walloped you hard from behind.

When you woke, the bare room was bright with florescent lighting and cold beyond belief. You shuddered. You were no longer wearing your supe suit. Instead, you’d been dressed in some kind of gray hospital gown and a pair of woolly socks, stripped of even your boots. At least you still had underwear.

You uncurled yourself from the thin cot you were laying on. The room held little more than a prison cot, a toilet, and a sink. You let out a shaky breath.

Where the hell…

You got up slowly, mindful of your aches and pains throughout your body. The back of your head was throbbing too, courtesy of Countess, you slowly remembered.

That fucking bitch.

There was a door with a small glass windowpane. You tried to twist the handle, but of course it wouldn’t budge. You peered out of the window and saw a long hallway. There was a door just like yours on the opposite side with a small window.

“H-Hey!” you shouted. “Is anyone there? Hello?!”

A moment later, you heard Ben say your name, calling out to you. He sounded angry, but you were close enough to sense his relief at hearing your voice. You were relieved to hear him too, at least.

“Ben!” you said, as tears sparked in your eyes. “Where the hell are we?”

“The Russians got us,” he said, though it was heavily muffled through his door and yours.

Oh shit…

“After those cocksuckers fucking betrayed me!” he shouted. You heard a banging sound, like his fist meeting the wall.

“Did you know?” he asked in anger.

“What?” you said incredulously.

“Did you fucking know what they were planning?”

You were shocked, both at his audacity, and at the way he really thought you could do that to him. To anyone.

“How can you ask me that,” you said tremulously, “when I’m the only one who tried to fucking help you?”

It finally hit you then, where you were and why this was happening. You laughed without humor, wiping manic tears from your cheeks in vain.

“Well, look where that got me,” you said. You shook your head. “God, I wish I’d never met you.”

You almost wished you could see his face. He would probably try to be stoic, but even through the walls, you sensed the discordant impact of your words. It affected him, more than he’d probably ever show.  

“You’re saying this is my fucking fault?!” he said sharply.

“Yes! It is your fault. Because you’re too much of a mean, callous, arrogant, entitled, selfish, fucking asshole to see that everybody hates you!” you spat. 

That fell heavily between you. You didn’t regret it. It was high time this man knew the truth, about everything.

No more games.

“Oh, really. You included, huh?” Ben said. “I didn’t do shit to you.”

You gaped. “You shoved me to ground! I had bruises for days. Or did you conveniently forget that part?”

“You got in the fucking way!” he retorted. But then, he simmered down slightly. “Besides, you know you weren’t the one I was aiming for.”

And that just reminded you of Black Noir, with no small measure of guilt, and just how badly Ben had beaten him before you two were captured. You didn’t doubt that Ben had killed him.

“But you still did it, and you couldn’t even look me in the eye and apologize, like a man,” you said. “Instead, you fucked a pack of whores.”

You shook your head and tried to calm your breathing. You wiped under your eyes.

“But I guess I did bring it on myself. I knew what you were the second I met you,” you said coldly. “In fact, the only thing I really wanted from you was what you could do for my career.”

That blow landed as well. You felt his shock, deep inside.

“Is that so?” he said, less angry then. More resigned. “It was all an act, huh?”

New tears burned in your eyes. They slid down your cheeks, one by one.

“Yeah, it was,” you said. “I fucking hope I never have to see your face again.”

With a shaky breath, you turned your back to the door and leaned against it. You ignored the painful lance in your heart that threatened to overtake you, along with your panic.

For a while, there was silence. It gave you a reprieve, but it also forced you to be alone with the tumultuous thoughts circling in your head.

Suddenly, the door opened. You backed up all the way to the far wall. In stepped a man in a gray lab coat, as well as two armed guards. One of them was holding a straitjacket.

“Good morning,” said the lab coat. His English was heavily accented. “Welcome to your new home.”

“Who are you?” You tried to sound firm and unshaken, but there was no mistaking your fear as your eyes darted from man to man.

“Eisenstein Sergei. I am a geneticist, by trade,” he said. He gestured at you with a smile that made your skin crawl. “You, beautiful one. You will be part of evolution.”

“Stay the fuck away from me,” you said, even as your voice trembled.

Eisenstein gestured at the guards, who drew near you. The second you opened your mouth to sing, to scramble their minds, one of them produced an extendable stick with an electric prod on the end. He tased you until you passed out onto the floor.

As you soon discovered, Dr. Sergei Eisenstein was fascinated by supes. He wanted to figure out how they ticked, on a molecular level. So he and his team had made a deal with Vought to acquire Soldier Boy for experimentation. You were an added bonus.

For months, the doctor and his team poked and prodded, cut and burned you, testing the limitations of your advanced healing and pushing your body often far beyond its capabilities.

But they were careful. The straitjacket ensured you couldn’t easily compel any man who drew near to work on you. They all wore gloves, so they didn’t touch your skin. In some ways, their wariness was to your benefit. You were always gagged when they worked on you though, so you couldn’t sing. Eisenstein also once threatened to paralyze your vocal cords if you tried. You were too afraid to tempt him.

As rough as you had it, you were sure it was only scratching the surface of what they did to Ben.

The man was stronger, more durable. The doctor had more leeway to play with him, knowing his toy wouldn’t break.

They now kept him on the other end of the compound, since he’d broken through his first containment unit. They had gassed him with something that made him drop like a stone, putting him to sleep. You weren’t sure what was powerful enough to do it, but you didn’t want to find out.

The first time you heard him screaming, it brought tears stinging in your eyes. Your lips had trembled, and you’d rocked yourself in your cot. You couldn’t help him, let alone yourself. You were surprised to realize that you wanted to help him, even after everything he did to you—after everything you’d seen him do.

It slowly made you realize the truth in your own heart; things you hadn’t wanted to take out and examine, like muddy glass after a storm. Now, with the debris washed away, you could see what you had become, and what all your work, your scraping, your lies and manipulations had gotten you.

Nothing.

It also made you realize that you weren’t as good of a liar as you thought you were. At least, not to yourself. Not when you remembered the quiet moments between you and Ben; the times you wordlessly craved each other’s company, and you laid tucked against his side on the couch with a book while he watched a football game. Or late at night, the times when you gave into sharing a bed with him, and he stared up at the ceiling with a blunt in hand, the two of you lying naked and talking about everything and nothing until you feel asleep.  

Yes, you remembered blood and violence, callousness and cruelty toward Noir and the rest of the team. You knew that was who Soldier Boy was. That was Ben.

It was just hard to reconcile that monster with the man you’d come to know. The man who actually tried to comfort you, even though you hadn’t wanted to be comforted after that accident with a Crimson Countess fan. The man who saved you after you were beaten by a thug, and nearly worse. The man who could be funny, and charming, with hints of gentleness and affection in between.

You supposed you would never know what part of him was real.

But most of all, you remembered the things you’d said to him. You surprised yourself by feeling pinprick needles of guilt up and down your spine.

“I hope I never have to see your face again.”

 You had a feeling that you’d get your wish.

It was six months in before Eisenstein experimented with the first serum. You vomited blood.

It took his team three more years to revise. 

You started to hear voices in your head, snippets of thought instead of just sensing energies. You lied to the scientists, keeping the knowledge to yourself. They had no way to know, so why give them more ammunition against you?

The thoughts you heard were always male, whoever was in close proximity. Your powers seemed to translate them into English, but you almost preferred it to be gibberish. Mostly the thoughts were bland, disgusting, or cold and frightening in their scientific detachment, and even their entertainment…mostly when they worked on Ben. 

It made you sick. You wished you could reach out to him, if just for someone familiar to talk to. You hadn’t learned how to do that just yet. You didn’t even know if you could. You were still figuring out how to just tune it all out when you were sick of the chatter.

Regardless, they kept him too far away, so you rarely heard his thoughts. When you did, they were mostly angry and murderous. You couldn’t blame him. 

Sometimes, just being able to feel his presence, hearing the scraps of his thoughts was enough.

You were left entirely alone with your own.

April 3, 1994

You read the date on the magazine they’d brought for you with bland porridge for breakfast. The publication was in Russian, but you’d begun to pick up on certain words they said, and on the structure of numbers you saw them scribble in their notes. 

Ten years. You really couldn’t fathom it. It didn’t feel real…

Well, actually, it did today. You were almost done with the porridge when the doctor and three guards came in, one with your usual straitjacket.

“Finished then?” Eisenstein asked, nodding at your near empty bowl. “Good. Get her up.”

The command was in Russian, but by now you understood it. You still struggled. You always did. It was no use though. Soon they had you fitted in the jacket and a gag tight around your mouth, with just a couple of cattle prod stings to your side.

They dragged you down the hall farther than usual. You were confused when they passed the usual lab they so often took you to. Instead, Eisenstein opened a metal door.

Inside the room was Ben, strapped to a metal slab against the wall. He was bound in every way, and fully naked. He also had a long, unkempt beard, but you’d recognize that face even in your sleep. Your eyes widened when you met his, your breath caught in your throat. His face slackened in surprise as well.

You hadn’t seen him since before the beginning of the nightmare.

He’d barely aged at all.

The spell of it broke when you were slammed down onto a cold, shiny table. It felt hard as titanium, and you cried out at the impact.

You managed to raise your head. “Ben!”

It was muffled through the gag, but you knew he understood you. His brows furrowed. He looked up at Eisenstein in a glare.

“What the fuck is this?”

The doctor held a glass syringe in his gloved hand. He drew closer to you with slow, measured steps.

“You have impenetrable skin, yes? Hard, like a diamond,” he said to Ben. “Even inside your holes, it is…perhaps more sensitive, but still strong enough to stop further experimentation.”

Ben’s lip curled with a sneer.

“But there must be a way to get inside you,” Eisenstein said. He grabbed the back of your neck tightly, making you whimper. He held up the syringe. “Tell me now, or I will give her the serum we had prepared for you. There is good chance it may…let’s say, liquify her insides, but we will have to see. Won’t we?”

He gestured at one of the guards, who tore open the back of your gray gown to expose your back and shoulders. You screamed around the gag and struggled, even with the men holding you down. You fought Eisenstein’s grip to look up at Ben. His jaw was clenched, his eyes hard and angry.

You had tears in your eyes; they already began to slip down your cheeks. You implored him wordlessly. Ben stared back at you through furrowed brows.

Getting nothing but silence, Eisenstein sighed through his nose, and he turned to you with the syringe.

“Hold her steady.”

You struggled and thrashed in vain.

“Wait!” Ben said, through clenched teeth.

Everyone in the room paused.

Ben lifted his gaze from you and directed it at the doctor.

“My eye,” he said lowly. “Inject it in the corner of my eye.”

Eisenstein’s weathered face broke into a smile. “Ah, clever. Thank you, Soldier Boy.”

Then he pressed the needle into your shoulder, emptying its contents into your bloodstream. You uttered a pained sound at the needle going in. Again, you looked up at Ben in panic.

He tensed in an incredulous anger. “What—”

“Do not worry. It’s just a sedative,” Eisenstein shrugged.

Within seconds, you breathed out a whimper as your eyes closed on you. You went limp. The guards peeled you off the table and dragged you out of the room. It left the doctor with his favorite patient.

Ben wanted to rip the man’s arm from his socket and beat him to death with it. And that was just the latest fantasy on how he’d take the good doctor apart.

“What’ve you been doing to her?” Ben asked, in a tone that demanded. It was the first time he had spoken of you, the first time he had the courage to ask the question that so often plagued his mind.

Eisenstein sighed. “She is not as strong or durable as you, but! She has been able to withstand a good many experiments that have borne fruit.”

Ben’s glare darkened. “You’re a sick fucking bastard.”

“I am a visionary,” the doctor countered. “Can you imagine what your mutations could unlock for science? In biomedicine? Her healing abilities, though limited, could provide the cure to any number of diseases and ailments. Your longevity of life could do the same��� Or if not, you will make for Russia’s greatest weapon.”

He stepped back and ushered in his assistants. One of them came with the true serum. Its contents had a light red hue. It looked like poison. Ben struggled in his constraints, grunting and resisting the hand that reached for his face.

“If you do not stay still, we will go to her next,” Eisenstein warned.

Ben panted through his nose. His hardened gaze flicked between the doctor, and the needle coming for his eye.

You heard Ben screaming before you could even open your eyes. You felt it in your chest. In your spirit.

He saved me, you realized, as tears once again stung behind your eyelids.

You also tasted cotton in your mouth. You realized it was because they had thrown you face-first onto your cot. You managed to turn your head so you at least could breathe, but you couldn’t move any of your limbs. Your enhanced healing was the only reason why you were even awake.

Ben…

He broke free.

The pain was too much. Adrenaline was surging through him, and he was able to grab one of the assistants and crush his throat. His furious gaze was set on Eisenstein next, but the fucker ducked out of the room quick.

Ben padded forward on slightly unsteady feet, ripping away the rest of his restraints from the cold metal. He stalked toward the door. Before he could reach it, a hissing plume of Novichok gas flooded the entire cell. 

His eyes rolled up into his head, and he fell to the ground. All the while, the serum was working inside him, bubbling and brewing red hot in his chest.

You were lying unmoving in your cot when Eisenstein came in to check on you.

“How is the little bird, doing?” he asked in his native tongue.

He ventured over to you carefully. In one of his hands was a cattle prod, just in case.

“They were careless,” he remarked. He set down the cattle prod to grasp your shoulders, and he rearranged you until you were lying on your back. You were still unresponsive, when the doctor knew for a fact that you should be awake by now. He had your reaction times to certain chemicals perfected to the minute.

He frowned and reached out to hold a gloved finger to your neck, measuring your pulse.

That was when you opened your eyes.

You raised up and headbutted him as hard as you could. Eisenstein cried out and fell to the ground. You followed him there and straddled him. Your hands were still bound by the straitjacket, so you had no choice.

You bent down and distracted him with a disdainful kiss to his lips.

When you next open your eyes, they were glowing violet.

You took control of his mind.

AN: 😬😬😬

Also, get ready for a whopper of a chapter in Part 9. (My favorite one of the series!)

Next Time:

Free me, you compelled Eisenstein’s mind.

He obeyed you with a vacant look in his eyes. He unhooked your straitjacket and opened the door. After you grabbed up his cattle prod, you still didn’t release your psychic hold. You ordered him forward, and for the first time you walked freely out of your cell without restraint.

Take me to Soldier Boy.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 9

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[reiderwriter]

🌞 Just Hanging Out 🌞

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Genre: Fluff, suggestive MINORS DNI 18+

WC: 3k

Summary: To kick off your vacation, you find yourself at Rossi's mansion with your team for a big summer barbeque. A hammock in the garden catches your eye, and you enlist Reid to help you have some fun in the sun.

Warnings: reader is a tease, shy Spencer, sexual arousal (M and F) no physical smut (god I wish we still used the citrus system).

A/N: Here's my second entry to @imagining-in-the-margins CM Summer Sunshine Fic Challenge! Thanks to everyone who helped my pick the plot for this one :) I was also intending for this to be a reply to one of my requests for more BAU reader, but unfortunately tumblr deleted that request so 🤡 I'm tagging the account below anyways, and I have three more BAU reader fics coming in the next two weeks-ish, including my new series That's What You Get, so I hope you like this fic and be sure to look out for the others! Enjoy~

Here's my masterlist and my requests are open!

It was mid-August, and thankfully, the serial killers of America had given up crime for one week of the year to allow you to enjoy some much needed vacation time. The entire team had been put on annual leave, and you were determined to enjoy it to the absolute capacity of your ability.

Despite being together year-round, you actually enjoyed the company of your coworkers, so when Rossi announced he was planning a summer barbeque at his place to kick off your vacation time, you were ecstatic. If Rossi’s barbecuing skills were anything like his pasta making skills, you were expecting to eat yourself into a food coma and not wake up for the next seven days.

“Not a single one of you will touch this grill, stand within a 1 foot radius of this grill or even dare to look at this grill, so help me God, are we understood?” Rossi announced as soon as you arrived, the last of the BAU team to gather in his self-proclaimed mansion. The gardens were beautiful, and the kids were already running riot on the slip and slide that he had set up for them, screaming and giggling in delight.

“Trust me, you’re not getting me near that thing today, Rossi,” you laugh as you pour yourself a glass of wine from the refreshments table. “Last time I was anywhere near a grill I almost died.”

“I don’t remember encountering any unsubs who used grills as their weapon of choice,” JJ laughed at you as she held out her own glass and you gladly filled it for her.

“That’s because it wasn’t on a case, it was a family barbeque when I was 17 and my grandfather thought I should learn some ‘practical skills,’” you shot a grin at her as she rolled her eyes at you and walked away.

You grabbed your glass and looked for somewhere to perch yourself while you took in the sun. Morgan and Prentiss had already grabbed the two sun-loungers on the patio and were both sitting shirtless (with a bikini top on in Prentiss’s case) taking in as much sun as they could. Garcia was similarly sprawled on the deck sofa, and JJ joined her their after grabbing her refreshment, Will stood by the edge of the deck watching over the kids. Hotch had the amazing foresight to bring his own camping chair, and was set up similarly with one eye on Jack and the other on a book in his hand.

And just where you were expecting him, Spencer Reid was stood awkwardly at the edge of the house, in the only spot of shade he could find, leaning slightly against the door, and squinting into the sun.

“Rossi, you got any other chairs I can grab for me and Reid?” you called out to your host.

“There should be some over by the shed, they might need a bit of a dusting down though.”

“Come on pretty boy, you can’t just be standing all day, you’re going to make me feel tired just watching you,” you laughed up at him and caught the flush of his cheeks as he finally caught that you meant him to follow you.

“I’m really fine here over in the shade, I don’t do too great in the sun, anyways. More of an autumnal person, really…”

“I’d feel bad seeing you stand all day, and besides, what if I need a big, strong man to help me carry my chair over?” As he gaped his mouth open and closed looking for a retort, you felt the small flash of victory spread warm your chest. It wasn’t that you liked messing with Reid, it’s that he was an easy target and actually you loved it.

Having joined the team only the year prior, you’d quickly found the genius incredibly endearing, loving to listen to his little monologues about whatever topic had popped into his head that day, often earning groans from your other colleagues as you encouraged him to keep going.

You’d discovered your love of making him squirm a few months into the job, when you had to interrogate a submissive partner of an unsub together. After theorising that the submissive personality had a thing for women who looked like you, especially ones that were pretty dominant and controlling, you’d decided to give him what he wanted. You’d popped the top button, walked into the room and given him your best shot before having to re-strategize.

“What if we send Reid in there with her?” Morgan was the one to suggest, “Have him act a bit touchy, show him something he’s missing out on. We already tried giving him what he wanted, let’s see how he reacts to someone he doesn’t view as a threat getting everything he thinks he’s entitled to.”

It was a good guess, and it worked. You’d walked into the room, and let Reid start asking the questions. He’d gently laid a hand on your thigh, just high enough for the suspect to notice, and you’d done nothing but quietly whisper directly into his ear, watching the entire time to see how the man in front of you would react. He’d cracked in ten minutes and started spewing misogynistic drivel, so angry that he accidentally confessed to the crime and gave away his partner’s location.

It seemed Reid had cracked just a bit too. He’d avoided eye-contact with you for an entire week after that, and whenever he talked to you in that time, it was like his brain short-circuited. You’d bought a genius with an IQ of 187 and an eidetic memory to his knees with a few whispers in his ear, and you loved the rush of power you felt remembering it. The memory of his strong hand on your thigh did nothing to quell your growing attraction towards the man.

“If you wanted someone big and strong, you should’ve asked Morgan,” Reid snapped you out of your thoughts as he diligently followed you in the direction Rossi had pointed. It was a pretty secluded spot in the garden, a little bit away from the action and you were glad to be out of earshot so you could begin your teasing of the Good Doctor.

“I’m sure you’re big and strong in certain places, Spencer,” you smiled at him, and began looking at the chairs.

You spotted it in the corner, then, the perfect tool for your torment. It seemed relatively new, barely used but still pretty sturdy, and you knew this was it.

“Hey, Rossi, what about this hammock in the corner, can I set this up, too?” you shouted back over to the group and grinned up at Reid.

“Do you have a death wish? Because if so, go ahead and tangle with that devil.” Rossi shouted back, not even looking up from the miriad of sausages and burgers he was working on.

“That sounds like a challenge to me, Doc.” You say and you start pulling it out into the sunlight, Reid steps behind you sighing in defeat. He knew that once you had your mind set on something, you were pretty stubborn about completing it.

“Okay, can you give me a boost?” The bed of the hammock fell to about your chest height, and whilst you knew you were probably able to climb in by yourself, you were wearing a particularly short sundress, and as much as you teased Reid, you didn’t exactly want to give the rest of your team and their families an eyeful.

“You want me to try to lift you into this thing?” Reid squeaked out, a look of confusion passing over his features.

“Yeah, just grab my hips and give me a boost and I’ll swing my legs over and straddle it. Then we can see what’s it's like.” He moved cautiously up behind you, letting his hands graze your waist.

“Reid, you’re going to have to hold me a bit tighter than that if we’re actually going to get anywhere.” You placed your hands over his and pushed his grip down stronger; you could practically hear him gulp from behind you. He pushed you up, and you almost had it, but you couldn’t quite pull yourself up and into it.

After a few attempts, you realised it wasn’t going to work. Reluctantly pulling yourself out of Reid’s grip, you turned to face him.

“New plan, you get in first and pull me up.”

“What? I don’t want to go anywhere near that thing, didn’t you hear what Rossi said?”

“Come on Reid, just this once, for me? We have to try at least!” you pouted up at him now with pleading eyes, hoping that you wouldn’t have to resort to batting your eyelashes at him to get him to agree.

“One attempt, and then I’m grabbing a normal chair and leaving, okay?” He negotiated, but you didn’t care and excitedly wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him in for a hug.

“Yay, thank you! I love you, Reid, you know that?” you pulled back slightly to deliver that last line, your arms still around his neck, watching the redness spread upto his cheeks.

He mumbled a quick whatever and pulled away to begin his attempts.

Perhaps it was his few extra inches of height or spindly frame, but Reid managed to climb up quite easily, not even rocking the hammock that much in his ascent.

He sat up pretty steadily, and you lifted your arms to him, and that’s when it all started going wrong. You’re combined weight wasn’t enough to break the hammock, but it was enough to set it off into an unsteady rocking that made your stomach lurch slightly. You swung your leg as best you could over Reid’s, already in the hammock, and as soon as you found some purchase there, he lowered one hand to pull your lower body up as well.

It was just unfortunate that the place his hand landed was directly over your ass, and you let out a sharp gasp as he grabbed it tightly and hauled you up to sit directly over him, chest to chest, practically straddling his entire body in the cramped space of the hammock bed.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I meant to grab your hip.” He tried to let go of you and push his hands up where you could see them, but the sudden movement made the hammock lurch dangerously so you snapped your hand over his and forced them back to their previous position.

“No sudden movements, Spencer, I don’t particularly want to be the butt of all jokes for the next year if we fall out of this thing.” You panicked slightly and squirmed a little in your position, trying to explore your range of movement.

“How are we going to get out of this if we can’t move?” he shot back at you, a look of mild discomfort on his face, and an I-told-you-so begging to escape his lips.

“If you just give me a minute to explore our options, maybe I would be able to figure that out.”

“If you keep squirming like that we’re going to have more problems than just how to get down,” he huffed under his breath, but he was so close that it was impossible for you to miss it.

It was your turn to blush now, as you caught his insinuation. With his hand firmly on your ass, and your legs either side of his, you could feel the entire length of his body below you. Each squirm you made the dampness between your legs pool a little bit more and then you in-turn squirmed even more in a vicious cycle.

After a few minutes, there was no denying that the thing prodding your core was Spencer’s sizable… appendage.

“Shit, Y/N, I’m sorry, it’s just a natural reaction,” he groaned out from below you when he realised you could feel it too, and you’d never heard anything so beautiful as the moans he was accidentally vocalising.

“It’s my fault, I’m sorry for being so stubborn about this. Let me see if I can figure something else out,” you cautiously slid your hands up his chest, and he screwed his eyes shut. Pushing against his shoulders, you slowly pulled yourself up to a seated position, doing your best to not rock the hammock too much. The new position did nothing to dampen the friction the two of you were feeling, and you knew that you were a few seconds away from a point of no return. Your hips bucked slightly against him against your will, and you really hoped he hadn’t noticed that was totally not to the benefit of you getting out of the hammock.

You looked down to the ground so you could see how far the descent would be, and if you’d have to call for backup anytime soon. Luckily you thought you’d be able to make it if you just swung your legs over the side and got out as quickly as possible, but fate had other plans.

“Spencer, Y/N what are you two doing over here?” came Emily’s voice from behind you. Spencer’s eyes shot open and he pulled his head up slightly to look at her. However, his movement had rocked the hammock a little bit harder than before, so he had to grab your hip to steady the two of you, pushing you further down into him. You did your best to stifle the moan, biting down hard on your tongue as you did so.

“Oh you know, just hanging out,” he managed to get out in reply, his voice notably higher than it usually was.

“You sure you guys don’t need any help? That doesn’t look like the safest of chairs.” Emily’s questioning stare never lifted and you knew that if she caught wind of what was actually going on, you wouldn’t be able to look her in the eye for an entire year. You couldn’t accept the help.

“Yeah, we were just going to climb down in a second, we’re just checking to see how… sturdy it is right now.”

“Sturdy. Right. Well, Rossi said the food would be ready to start serving in a few minutes and asked me to call you guys over.”

“We’ll be right there, thanks Emily.” You smiled at her and she made to walk away, a suspicious look still on her face.

“What do you mean we’ll be right there, I can’t go over there like this!” Spencer whisper yelled into your ears.

“What else was I supposed to say to get her to go away,” you whisper yelled back. You ran a free hand through your hair, and shifted again, your legs beginning to cramp up a little in the awkward position.

“Okay you get down, I’ll make a break for the bathroom, say all this moving around made me need to pee or something, and then we meet up again on the patio and pretend this never happened?” he said and you nodded quickly.

You began to lift your body weight up and remove your legs from the tangle you were stuck in, and that’s when the hammock reared it’s ugly head for the final time. As you lifted your leg slowly, you accidedntally got your foot stuck in the side of the fabric, and pinned there but still moving, the hammock toppled and spat both of you out unceremoniously.

Reid landed ontop of you with a hard thud. You let out a sweet curse, just as Reid pushed his body weight onto his hands, taking some of the pressure off of you after the fall. You stared up into his eyes as you realised you’d found yourself in yet another compromising situation and you deepeded to a scarlet red as you realised your sundress had blown up completely in your descent, and he was now neatly nestled in between your legs, with your damp underwear on display for him.

Looking down at you, he took a beat too long to react, and you squirmed under his gaze, feeling appropriately trapped, before he sprung up and offered you a hand up.

You took his hand and rearranged your dress, thankful that the smell of the food had distracted everyone from your embarrassing fall.

“Okay, we’re out.” You were flustered and you didn’t know what else to say.

“Yep, that was certainly one way to do it,” Reid replied, as you avoided his gaze. You wrapped your arms around yourself, and he made to do so similarly, trying his best to rearrange himself so the bulge in his pants wasn’t so noticeable.

“You should get to the bathroom.”

“You should get to the food.” He retorted and you finally made to move, but stopped yourself turning around quickly to face the man again.

“Before I go,” you said and you pushed yourself up on your tiptoes and pressed a kiss into his mouth, feeling as giddy as a teenager braving her first kiss. You turned away just as fast and made your way back to the party, leaving a flustered and spluttering Reid behind as you made a beeline for the food.

“So, what’d you think of the hammock?” Rossi asked you as you began loading your plate up. You put on your best poker face and begged noone had noticed anything out of the ordinary.

“You were right. That thing is dangerous,” was your only response, and you retreated into the corner to finish your food. You sat there waiting eagerly for Reid to return, not just so you could be in his presence again and see how he was reacting to your kiss, but also so you could get the image of him dealing with his situation out of your mind.

It seemed that being a tease and working him up hadn’t quite ended so well for you that day.

You blamed the hammock.

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

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((General PSA for tags - of you have your tumblr settings on to make it so you don't show up in searches, sometimes the tags do not work, of you want to be tagged, please change your settings! Alternatively, you can turn my notifications on for when I post :)))

[palms-upturned]

Hello this a long shot call, am a citizen of Palestine. I am here to request for your support to help get my insulin (Humalog), just an injection for today to save my life please I beg.I was diagnosized with type 1 diabetes and due to current situation in Gaza I'm unable to get my insulin injection as a result I'm here begging for little financial support to help me purchase insulin for this week. Am sorry if am sending you again this request, kindly donate any amount please. My donation link is in my pinned post🇵🇸

Everyone, keep your eyes peeled. This user is a known scammer. If you get any asks with this copy/pasted message, or from an account using this profile picture, it’s not real.

This person’s main donation post has “verified/vetted” in big red letters at the top. It is a lie. That’s why they don’t tag the person who supposedly verified them or provide a link. Even if a user claims to be verified, it’s important to double check. Cross reference el-shab-hussein and nabulsi’s spreadsheet and the Operation Olive Branch spreadsheet, and search the url/keywords from the fundraiser title in tumblr’s search bar. I have links to both spreadsheets, as well as gazafunds.com, in my pinned post. When answering an ask like this for a user that’s actually legit, linking to the verification will make it a lot easier for people to donate and share without hesitation.

I recognized this person immediately because el-shab-hussein has posted about this scam several times. I don’t have a link handy to any of Hussein’s posts about them, but people have been very kindly linking to these two users/posts so that when you search this url, you find proof of the scam.

An unverified fundraiser doesn’t always mean that it’s not legit, and I’ve been contacted by a lot of people who may not have been vetted at the time, but later on someone did verify them. It’s not necessarily a good idea to block unverified users right off the bat. I keep a list of users to search periodically for verification (or confirmation of a scam, if that is the case). But this person is a very well known scammer. If they contact you, just keep on sharing the proof of the scam and tell your followers to beware.

[theshitpostcalligrapher]

OPENASKBOX TIME HERE ARE THE GROUND RULES

1) Funny- the request needs to be humorous, memes usually the most popular but dnd in jokes and other shitpostery is welcome. i abide by the MBMBAM NO BUMMERS rule - there are plenty of sad/deep/beautiful calligraphers out there who’d be happy to work with yall, but this isn’t that sort of channel

2) Length - aim for no more than 75 characters a request, my cue cards are only so big so I can only fit so much on each one and still not look like garbage. There is a little leeway but if you send me smth with like 120 characters it aint getting written

3) Amount of Requests - I am trying to be fair but i am one person running almost the ENTIRE thing, logistics, tech, etc, I have twitch mods and a roommate for retrieving things and that's it. In order to be fair, please restrict yourselves to 3 requests per person to let everyone have a shot, if you send in more i will ctrl-f your username and pick my favourites

4) Content - I will not do anything I consider under the umbrella of general assholery - this includes racial slurs, edgelord bullshit, exclusionist jackassery etc. Please be kind to each other. Please let me know if I’ve taken a request that is some incredibly obscure piece of assholery, someone once tried to slip a really obscure antisemetic piece of slang by me once

5) Repeats - I keyword tag EVERY SINGLE piece i’ve ever done on this blog, if you think I might have written smth already but aren’t sure, the /search/[keyword] is your friend, check if i’ve done your request before

the proper inbox is theshitpostcalligrapher.tumblr.com/ask , not a dm or submission to the blog. I’ll close submissions too so people don’t get the boxes confused. DM me for any actual clarifications, kind words, etc so they don’t get swallowed up by the behemoth of my askbox for months, but I will probably NOT see my tumblr dms until the event is OVER. If you need to flag me down RIGHT AWAY you're GOING to have to go over to twitch chat ask there.

the BEST CHANCE of getting it written live today is to send in your requests with 3 different asks within the first hour or so of the stream going live. after the first hour, it's not gonna matter if it's in one or three asks cuz I'll be scheduling them out in advance and everything that follows the rules above will get written eventually

If you want to jump the ENTIRE queue and get your card done immediately, there are ways to donate on the twitch stream to get your request done with an ink of your choice. You can still submit 3 free requests in addition to what you pay for.

I’ll be streaming the entire time the askbox is open on twitch @ miathecalligrapher, trying to get as many of these done today as possible live. Once 10PM EST hits, the askbox will close but if you get your request into the askbox by then, it will be done eventually as I always have 4 cards up per day.

Here’s the link to my twitch, we’ll start a little after 2 o’clock EST.

Here is a direct donation link to my streamlabs, it works like a ko-fi but I’ve got it set to give me alerts on my twitch so I can see and thank you straightaway for supporting my takeout order

If you would like to receive the card you buy/request for, physically in the mail, here is the shop link:

feel free to dm me first to discuss discounting if you'd like multiple of your cards in a bundle

if you subscribe to my channel on a regular basis, I'll keep your cards back and send them out periodically regardless

there'll be 2 donation goals - one as a forty dollar threshold for ordering food, and the other one will be set at $160 since that's ABOUT the equivalent of living wage for the amount of time I'll be streaming.

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

Had a terribly great thought! The Ghoul and reader traveling together. She's a brat but loyal as a dog to that man. They get into a pretty bad fight and she storms off and he's too proud to follow after her, struggling with coming to terms that he's actually soft for her even though he's mean as hell. She finds him some days later, with her tail tucked between her legs. He's not surprised, comparing her to a female dog often. 👀 still, he's going to make sure she's sorry. Lots of groveling on her part, maybe some face slapping, boot licking, he gets off, she doesn't. Ends with her in his lap. Hair petting and praise for coming back to who she belongs to.

As A Dog

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader

Word Count: 7,085

Warnings: smut (18+), DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, Jealous!Cooper, canon-typical violence, intimacy issues, angst, insecurity, slightly fucked conceptions of love and loyalty, pet play-ish activity, hard drug use, forced intoxication, shotgunning, slapping, boot licking, oral sex (male receiving), face fucking, rough sex, riding, cannibalistic thoughts, orgasm denial (female), breeding kink, creampie.

Notes: I had several pieces in line in front of this one and then this prompt reached through my screen, sunk its teeth into my brain, and shook me until this came out. It really is a terribly great thought. Tagging heavy, since the themes/Cooper's mentality may be triggering for some. It is what it says on the can, folks.

I dunno what unholy demon you've unleashed on me here, Anon. But bless you for it. Another Coop POV because I have a problem. Thanks for the patience on this one; I've been doing some admin stuff the last few days, including setting up an AO3 that you can find here, where I'll be uploading all the long-form stuff. Enjoy!

Cooper's trigger finger was itchier today than it had been for a long time.

He was fully aware that he'd never be able to stop every man left in the world from talking to his little vaultie companion, but boy, he sure would love to try. On an average day, he struggled to hold his tongue as she drove away her own sun-baked suitors, standing silently aside until called up to defend her, no matter how badly he wanted to reduce whomever was bothering her to nothing.

Today was a worse-than-average day, and the girl wasn't helping anything, herself.

"Are you gonna be ready to go any time soon, princess?" he asked her acerbically as she passed by him for the millionth time, tossing his current cigarette down to the ground.

He'd intended to stop at this shitty little settlement, little more than a dingy bighorner ranch at first glance, for a few minutes at most, just long enough to unload some things and check to see if they had any vials on hand. Here it was, nearly four hours of glad-handing and chit-chatting and unnecessary gun repairs later, and he was still leaning against the same crumbing wall, still angrily smoking. She was pushing it.

"Oh, be patient." she shot back, rolling her eyes as she turned to saunter back to the little ramshackle counter. "I'm waiting for my gun back and I was having a nice chat with the mechanic. Try to be pleasant for five minutes, would you?"

She was so full of shit, he thought as he snuffed the still-glowing smoke butt out beneath the toe of his boot with just a little more force than necessary. Typically, she shied away from male attention at her most demure, refusing to acknowledge most advances, playing innocent, playing dumb. The big doe eyes and soft voice didn't hurt on that front, but usually didn't deter the more steadfast predators.

He preferred the days where she had a little extra spitfire, when she told them clearly and loudly to fuck off, no doubt emboldened by having the rather intimidating ghoul hanging over her shoulder, silently encouraging her as she did it. In the past, she had proven that she wasn't above evoking his capacity for violence as a threat when the desert trash was persistent, and it gave him a thrill he couldn't identify, one that ruminated deep in his gut.

That same gut feeling was burning him now, eating a hole in his patience as he watched her listening attentively to the third scrawny young man who'd approached her as she waited around the repair hutch to yap her ear off. She nodded and smiled politely, even laughed from time to time (the sound of which made him want to shoot he kid between the eyes just for that), but kept a respectful distance. Clearly, she'd finally learned that the sort of over-friendliness that she'd been raised with in the vaults could be read differently up here. The young buck, however, continued to try and dance into her space as he spoke animatedly, and, eventually, she reached out and quickly touched his chest.

The old cowboy was stomping across the sand to her before he was even aware he was moving.

His logical brain could see very clearly what had happened: the boy had advanced into her space for the half-dozenth time and she'd put her palm out to gently rebuke him, distracting him from the rejection with a laugh at whatever he'd said. But that part of his brain was rather quiet after a long afternoon of watching her rather blatantly flirt with the asshole she was having repair her plasma pistol (something that she would typically have him do, since it wouldn't cost her anything, and he almost certainly could do with equal or superior adequacy), and letting every other little piss-ant farmhand in the next mile radius chat her up.

"We're hitting the road in five. Get your shit and let's go." he hissed to her, ignoring the little scowl she shot him as he interrupted her newest conversation with the willowy, greasy mechanic, who was sliding her her pistol back across the knotted wood of the semi-exposed countertop. Flashing him that brilliant smile, the one that he wanted to be only for him, she checked the thing over before tucking it back into the holster she kept on her hip, pushing a stash of caps in a metal tin back his way. The old cowboy watched with inflamed indignation as the fucker opened the box, dug out a massive handful, and tucked them back into her hands, letting his own linger across her skin as he placed them back into her palms.

Frankly, he was impressed he was able to let her drop the things back into her bag before he grabbed her by the arm, none too gently, and wordlessly began to yank her back down the road, back in the direction they'd originally been heading in. He could've shoved the damn things in himself and just dragged her along; it wasn't like he was unfamiliar with where she put them. The long, sleepless nights could be boring, and early on, he'd been curious enough about her to nose through her things once or thrice. That, like this, had been quite illuminating.

"Oh, you're being such a prick today!" she yelled, yanking at his grip in an attempt to free herself. He humored her, dropping her arm and turning to face her, unpleasantly surprised as the last farmhand she'd been chatting with, the one she'd touched, came running up.

"Hey, leave her alone!" he yelled. Or, he would have, if he'd had a chance to finish.

The sound of Cooper's rifle butt cracking into the kid's face was incredibly satisfying, collapsing him into a limp, useless pile on the ground, deep crimson pooling around where he lie face-down in the dirt. The girl didn't scream, probably surprised that he hadn't outright shot him, but her hands did fly to her mouth in a quick moment of silent shock before she kneeled to quickly check his pulse, rolling his ugly mug to face the sun. Blood poured from his obviously broken nose, leaving the old ghoul wiping at his face to cover the smirk it sent twitching across his lips.

"What did you do that for?!" she demanded, frustration clear in her voice.

"Oh, my apologies, sweetheart. Your little boyfriend there was trying to join a party he wasn't invited to." he replied, though she was clearly ignoring him in favor of turning the boy onto his side and examining him.

His little companion let out a huff, casting a look between the body on the ground and the little cluster of buildings they'd just left. After a moment, she grabbed him by the fabric of his shirt the best she could and began to drag him back towards where he'd come from. The ghoul watched her pull him about five feet, red and huffing by the time she made it there, rolling his eyes deeply.

"Leave him. He'll be fine."

"He won't be if no one comes over to collect him soon, and you know it." she snarled, and her tone sent him seething, snatching the kid up over his shoulder like a sack of spuds and stomping ahead of her, depositing him unceremoniously against the ranch's handmade sign before yanking her along with him once again.

"Y'know, if you'd have just gotten in and out like I told you, that wouldn't have happened." he said eventually, dropping her arm once more.

"Oh, fuck you!" she hissed. "I was trying to see if I could talk him down on the price. And sometimes people know useful things, you know!" she yelled, exasperation clear in her tone as she threw her arms up in the air.

She pretended to be ignorant, but clearly knew what he was upset about before he specified. Interesting.

"Oh, I'm sure. Y'know, I'd wondered how long it was gonna take you to start sellin' that little ass of yours. Figured it would be for something nicer than a pistol repair or some bad intel, at least." he sneered. He could feel himself slipping further from rationality.

"What are you talking about? It wasn't even like that!" she insisted, an edge of something more worrisome creeping into her voice.

"Quit playin' dumb, doll. You make it seem too easy." he said, watching her entire face light up bright red in frustration. She was tersely quiet for a minute, the gears in her head clearly turning hard and fast as she worked to contain herself and formulate a response at the same time.

"I'm sick of you getting pissed off and treating me like I'm the stupidest person you've ever met." she spat, eventually, madder than he'd ever seen her. "I'm sorry that I haven't spent enough bitter fucking years walking around the desert and killing things and being an asshole to know everything like you do, Coop. I'm sorry I still have human emotions and desires. My sincerest fucking apologies."

That was it: the argument had officially become about...something else.

Honestly, he'd assumed that she was going to leave him a few days back, when they'd stayed in a rare hotel room waiting for a bad dust storm to settle, the little thing getting just a tad too tipsy on some whiskey he'd given her before trying to kiss him. He'd rebuffed her, though not as gently as he wished he had, and, feeling bold, she'd pushed back with surprising fervor, basically demanding to know why he wouldn't kiss her more, why he wouldn't sleep with her.

True, he felt closer to her than he'd felt to anyone or anything in a long while, and he thought she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, but, as embarrassing as it was, the idea of being expected to perform sexually so suddenly made him feel a seizing sense of panic that he wasn't sure he'd ever felt before.

What he'd wanted to say was "I care about you so much, but I'm not sure I'm ready to take that step." Instead, what had come out was "Why are you buggin' me about this? I said no. Fuck off." followed by him storming out to spend several hours smoking in the decrepit, junk-walled-in parking lot.

When he'd returned, she'd been asleep, her poor face tear-swollen and red. He'd waited for her to rouse and hash it out with him, but she'd slept through the night, and, the next morning, didn't bring it up or seem amenable to discussing it. She hadn't seemed angry, necessarily, perhaps a little sad, but in the few days that had passed since, she had definitely been colder, poutier than usual.

It seemed, to him, that she was punishing him now for not doing what she'd wanted, and it was pissing him off.

It didn't matter that he hadn't fucked her yet, that he didn't feel ready to expose the most vulnerable parts of him, inside and out, so openly. She was his; she belonged to him and she knew it as much as he did. The fact that she was even still traveling with him after all this time, after what happened at the hotel that night, was proof. She proved it every single time she came back from one of her little stomp-offs every time he ticked her off, lacking the wherewithal to ever even move fully out of sight before slinking down to pout awhile, inevitably peeking out from whatever she was hiding behind to see if he was still there. Despite her lack of proper training, she was a loyal little bitch.

The fact that she suddenly didn't want to act accordingly sat entirely wrong in his mind, wriggled under his skin like when his stash ran low.

"All's I'm saying, princess," he growled, throwing out the nickname he knew she loathed once more, "is that you're too fucking friendly for your own good, and you shouldn't be shocked when it gets people hurt."

"Why would you give a shit who I'm friendly to, anyway?" she spat, suddenly pushing her way right into his bubble and sending him baring his teeth.

"I wouldn't. Didn't I made that clear enough the other night?"

He knew that this particular barb would hurt her, but he genuinely didn't expect what she did next.

"Alright, then." she said; her voice was trembling noticeably, as was her lower lip. With that, she snatched her backpack up from the ground, jammed her arms into the straps, turned, and began to walk back towards the way they'd come from. He watched her silently, waiting for her to duck back into the ranch, but she didn't; instead, she kept walking, as long as he could watch her, until she disappeared over the hill that fed into the horizon.

The old man watched her go, dumbfounded as she actually continued to walk instead of stopping as she always did. For a while, he hung around, waiting for her to come huffing back, but she still hadn't by the time the sun had fully sunk out of the sky. Eventually, he resumed moving himself, stopping after about a mile in their original planned direction, settling down for a grating night of looking out over the road at every little noise.

She'd never even looked back. He couldn't shake that thought from his mind as he sat there resting overnight. It was basically the only thought he had for hours, plaguing him as he puffed his inhaler and watched the world around him brighten with the rising sun.

When the next day started in full, he'd resolved to hit the road, to resume his travels as he would be resuming his existence before the girl had come along. Compared to how long he'd been exploring the desert solo, she'd been but a brief blip in his life, and there was no reason to fret so much over where she'd gone or what could happen to her without him around.

For some reason, he only covered about half the ground he would typically cover on a day like this, and he found himself beyond unreasonably frustrated...with himself. Nothing about the conditions was slowing him down; he didn't run into more trouble than usual, and he was fine on supplies, vials, but for some reason he found himself hypervigilant, looking for any excuse to move up high and scan the road with his binoculars.

By the time it was too dark to safely continue, he was seething once again, but at his weakness, at his cowardice. After he chose a tucked away little corner to settle down in for a few hours, he quite literally couldn't dig into his stash fast enough, doing line after line, hit after hit of whatever he had on him, until the horrible pain he felt behind his breastbone melted away into a familiar, soothing numbness.

But his numb mind liked to wander, and soon he found himself thinking about the softness of her voice, her skin, her lips against his that night...

And, quickly, he was back to pain and anger, but an irrational anger fueled by a far-more than reasonable dose of basically every kind of stimulant known to Wasteland man. This pain, too, was chased away with more and more chems, until he was so fucked up that he could barely keep his eyes focused and open.

She truly did plague him now, just as she had all the months she'd traveled with him. She plagued his thoughts at all points in the day, plagued his worries about the future, and even as he attempted to snort and huff himself free of the thought of her, she plagued him, dancing up along beside him in a quiet, stalking creep, watching him daintily from the end of the rotted log he sagged himself on, his back wedged against the large rock cluster behind him. At some point, he'd tugged his gloves off and shucked them somewhere nearby, leaving him feeling quite naked as his hands fretted with themselves absentmindedly. Against his will, he thought about running them through her hair like he'd wanted to for so long, and the unpleasant flip his stomach did made him sigh.

"I'm sorry." came a voice on the breeze, so much like hers. The visions of her were persistent, annoyingly so, the one staring hauntingly at him from the side really starting to unsettle him. He was no stranger to visual and auditory hallucinations when he was this far gone, but she was so solid-looking out of the corner of his eye, watching him so close. Judging him and what a fuck-up he was.

He squeezed his eyes shut hard, willing her away, willing himself to go back a few days and redo this entire thing differently.

"Aren't you...gonna say anything?" came the soft, timid voice once more, this time from beside him. Firmer, realer.

He narrowed his eyes in her ghostly direction, focusing as best as he could on her blurry, swimming visage.

"Huh. Didn't know that was really you."

When had she arrived, exactly? Fuck, he was dangerously gone if she'd been able to sneak up on him like that.

She frowned at that, leaning close and sizing him up with worrying eyes. Gingerly, she placed her palm on the back of his bare hand.

"Jeez, Cooper. How fucked up are you?" she asked, her tone sincere, almost apologetic.

Her glaring worry burned into him as judgment, harsh and stinging, and he struck out in response, yanking his hand away.

"Mind your fuckin' business." he slurred, forcing himself to sit up straight enough to point his full anger in her direction, growing with each passing moment. "Think you're better'n me? Hmm?"

He'd fully expected this to ignite another yelling match between the two of them, but she didn't scream back; instead, she quietly dropped her head, avoiding his eyes as she gazed around where he'd chosen to bed down. Truly, he was quite impressed she'd managed to find him at all, let alone in the dark. Turns out he was rubbing off on her even more than he'd thought. The idea left him bitter.

A big part of the anger he felt, the ugliest, most violent part, was the Jet; he knew this. The stuff had gotten him into more than his share of scuffles through the years, making him even meaner than usual, his sharp tongue exact and piercing. However, beneath the amphetamine fog, there was a nugget of true bitterness, an open wound of insecurity that pained him into lashing out when she tried to come close. He'd lashed out in such a way that night at the hotel, despite how hard he'd tried to hold back his sour words.

There was a fear there that he'd felt before, but never so strongly as when he'd watched her disappear over that hill. If she'd tried to leave over that relatively small argument, when would she try to leave again? He wasn't a pleasant man to be around, even when he actually tried to be, a lot of the time. Hell, he wasn't even pleasant to look at; if he'd been a giant prick in his old life, at the very least, he had been handsome.

Increasingly, since she'd come into his life, he tried to reach deep, deep into himself and pull out whatever remained of the old him, the one who was kind and hopeful and actually knew how to talk to women, but the process was infinitely more difficult and painful than he'd imagined.

She clearly wanted and needed intimacy from him, on more than one front, and the pressure of feeling like he couldn't give her what she needed was increasingly getting to him in a way that embarrassed him more than he could possibly say (not that he'd ever say it out loud). Centuries of time had passed, and yet, here he was, still dealing with the same anxieties and feelings of inadequacy that he had before, just dressed up in a new, uglier face.

When would he finally succeed in pushing her away, in frightening her away from him 'for her own good'? The walls around him had never failed him before, for better or worse.

Things were quiet between them as she fidgeted in her spot, the tension of an inescapable conversation in the air, but the desert's constant score, the hiss of sand across corroded asphalt, the soft rattle of the wind in the rocky hills, played on. His muddled ears played tricks on him, making him hear murmurs and distant gunshots and the crack of his rifle butt into that farmhand's face, but he tuned them out, focusing on her steadying, but increasingly heavy breathing, his eyes unable to leave her mouth..

He let himself drink in the fact that she really was there, sat on her knees in the dirt before him and already begging him for his forgiveness, for his acceptance; corporeal, flesh and blood and her sweet smell and that wet, warm place between her legs. Only in his drug-induced private fantasies had he felt it, but he knew he wanted to bury himself there, as deep as possible, and never let her pull away.

"I really am sorry, Coop." she whispered, those big, round eyes brimming with big, wet tears. It wasn't difficult to see her sincerity, even as he struggled to focus. But that hot coal of bitter anger still smoldered in his gut; not replaced by the lust he felt, but fed by it.

Slowly, his own movements labored under the weight of too many substances, he reached out and ran the thumb of his sullied glove along her smooth, smooth cheek. Smearing the trail of wetness there until he was tracing the outline of those pouty lips, he pushed it into her mouth.

"Prove it."

She let out a pitiful little retch, though whether it was from the taste of the incredibly filthy material, or because he was shoving her tongue back in her throat and gagging her with it, he didn't know. What he did know was that the sound made his cock twitch, which was already more blatant sexual desire than he'd felt in ages.

"How?" she asked, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand as he pulled his own away. The wetness that trailed from his thumb, from her lips, made him feel feverish, and he quickly knotted his hand into the thick, soft hair at the back of her head, yanking her so close that their noses would've been touching, had he still had one. When her wide eyes met his, not so much as a sound escaping her lips at the sensation in her scalp, he finally gave in and harshly mashed his mouth to hers, swallowing the sigh that escaped her as he did.

Cooper was unsure how long they kissed, how long he plundered her swollen, eager mouth with his tongue before she stumbled onto her knees, pulling back slightly to pull air into her lungs. As she hovered there, eyes closed as she attempted to gather herself, he dug deep into the pocket of his duster and withdrew a Jet container, giving it a shake to prime it as she righted her breathing. Once she was steady once more, he cupped the back of her head again, bringing her to him and lifting it to her mouth. There was hesitation in her eyes, then disgust as the chem filled her lungs. It touched him with a twinge of amusement, knowing how badly the stuff tasted, watching her retch harder than before. He let her cough for a few seconds, allowing her a few half-cocked breaths of air before shoving the thing back between her lips and holding it down even longer.

By the time she managed to stop sputtering and drooling, he'd had a hit of his inhaler and started stroking his increasingly hard cock through his pants, watching her closely as she raised her now bleary, glassy eyes towards him. He waited for her to mouth off, to complain, to remark on anything that had happened, but instead, she sat there, unmoving, waiting for his instructions. She was the picture of obedience, but nevertheless, he could still see that glint of outrage behind her gaze, waiting to argue with him the moment she sensed an opportunity.

It pissed him off more than he thought possible, and, before he could even think to stop himself, he lashed out and slapped her across the face, the blow landing squarely in the center of her cheek and making her head turn away from him slightly. Surprising him again, she didn't make a sound, but she also didn't correct her head to look back at him.

Pulling a long drag off of the Jet inhaler himself, he held it deep in his lungs as he grabbed her by her long hair to kiss her again, exhaling the stuff right down into her lungs. She kissed him back until she choked on the sensation, leaning away to spew and cough more.

"Wanna prove you're sorry?" he hissed, his brain buzzing with the fresh hit as she leaned against his knee. "Clean my boots, vaultie. Show a little humility for once in your life."

His words were mean, meaner than he should be right now, but she didn't seem to register their full weight as she struggled to focus her eyes on the boots in question. When she lifted those dark, glassy pools back to his, he could see she knew what he meant, a heavy blush staining her cheeks and neck. Of course she knew what he meant; she was a smart girl, and her brain worked so much like his, even if she wouldn't freely admit it.

She looked up at him so dreamily through those thick lashes, though whether it was real affection in her eyes or simply the haze from all the Jet he'd forced down into her lungs, he couldn't tell.

In truth, his boots weren't as filthy as they could've been, as he'd cleaned the farmhand's blood off of them the night she'd taken off to get rid of the smell. But it wasn't about cleanliness; no, she'd humiliated him, her and her spoiled, entitled vault-dweller attitude, when she ran off, and he wanted to see her humiliate herself a little in kind.

The woman kneeling before him didn't hesitate as much as he'd thought she would, the red outline of his palm and fingers seeming to glow on her cheek in the dying firelight as she cast a vaguely-seeing glance around her, measuring her space before pulling herself into a sort of downward dog position, her round ass in the air as her marred cheek rested softly on the sandy ground. There was a moment of quiet tension as she seemed to study it, planning her approach before rather timidly leaning forward and running her tongue along the side, swiping a clean stripe across the tarnished black material from ball to toe. She gagged at first, likely from the dryness of the dust, but, again, she didn't complain.

He didn't have to tell her to clean the other boot; she did it with no prompting as soon as the first was finished, gagging less as she ran her pretty pink tongue all along the sullied, scuffed leather, and he couldn't believe how much it turned him on while equally failing to quell his indignation, his disappointment. Before she'd really finished her work, he yanked her up by her hair again; this time, she let out a slight yelp of surprise as he dropped her onto her ass, gesturing to her shabby, scavenged armor with one hand as the other began to wrestle his ammo belt, then his actual belt, open.

"Take that shit off."

Again, she did as he asked with only a moment's pause, placing all the little pieces of boiled leather and metal off to the side, her eyes flitting to him for a heartbeat before she proceeded with the rest of her clothes, quickly exposing herself completely. He could see her well in the moonlight, but not as well as he'd have liked, leaving her standing there, vulnerable and shivering ever-so-slightly as he took a good, long look at her. He was painfully hard at this point, desperate to have at least some minor relief from the confines of his trousers, but he was also uncharacteristically nervous at the idea of exposing himself to her this way. Beckoning her forward, he used her distraction as she kneeled once more to pull his cock free, grateful for the darkness and her weaker eyes.

"Suck me." he growled.

While he wasn't exactly pleased at how entirely fucked up he'd been going into this, he was sort of grateful that he couldn't feel almost anything with any vivid detail across the expanse of his body; the visual of her wrapping her dainty little fingers around him and obediently leaning down to take him into her mouth alone would have been enough to finish him if he'd have been able to feel her properly.

The way she went about it also seemed to indicate she wasn't entirely experienced, simply sliding her mouth down over his cock and setting to finding a pace that she could handle, as everything was surely spinning for her. For a while, he let her do so, fingers knotting into her hair again, before his patience wore thin and he began to push her head downwards, the sound of her gagging once more sending a thrill up his spine. Even with the numbness from the most recent hit seeping through him, he wasn't able to keep it up long before he yanked her back, taking in the drool hanging down from her swollen lips.

Cooper gave his spit-slicked cock a few firm tugs, hissing from between his worn teeth at her as he sat back, making room for her on his lap.

"Now get up here and show me you know who you belong to."

She didn't even look towards her bag, towards the condoms he knew she kept tucked deep inside her little toiletry pocket, as she quickly and sloppily pulled herself up into his lap. A part of him knew that he'd have stopped her if she did try to put one on him.

He tried so hard to not think of Barb as the pretty young thing on top of him began to sink down and envelop his cock in her heat, tried so hard to not feel guilty for giving himself to another, and he failed miserably. She felt heavenly, tighter and warmer and sweeter than he could've ever imagined, and he hated himself for how much he loved it, for how alive it made him feel when for so long he'd simply been existing. The choked noise that left his dry throat as the aching head of him fully breached her wasn't a sob, but he wouldn't have known what to call it.

It must've seemed to her, he thought, that he was forcing her to do all the work out of anger, wanting her to fully prove that she wanted him, that she was his; this was true, but he was also terrified, deep down, of how he would react if he allowed himself to freely touch her the way he wanted. He feared he would literally rip her limb from limb in his intoxicated state, sink his teeth into her pillowy flesh until it bled, tear a chunk off of her and swallow it so that she could be part of him forever.

He couldn't tell if the way she huffed and whimpered her way down his length was because she was high and hypersensitive or because she'd never been with a man this way before. That thought was quickly and harshly banished from his brain, however, his hands finding the plush fat of her hips, fingertips digging hard into the soft, supple flesh.

"Good pup." he breathed out when he eventually felt her ass rest on his thighs, fully sheathing him inside her.

The whimper she let out in response, her tight little clasp quivering around him as she clumsily reached out and braced her hands on his shoulders, made him throb hard, leaving him at least slightly grateful for his intoxication once again. If his numbed brain and body had been able to feel her fully, he knew he would've absolutely shot his load already.

Cooper struggled to stay still as she moved experimentally on top of him, lifting and lowering and grinding herself a few different ways before she found a rhythm that made him let out a throaty moan, the ghost of a smile flashing across her sleepy face as she rode away at him for a while.

What he really wanted, deep beneath all the unwanted feelings and unanswered questions about things he didn't want to think about right now, was to knock her up. For so long now he'd thought of her as his, and now that he'd claimed her, he wanted nothing more than to see her round and full to the brim of him. He wanted her to need him, to be completely dependent on him to provide for her and keep her safe.

He wanted her too vulnerable to get away from him.

On top of him, her movements were rapidly losing all coordination as her glossy, heavy eyelids drifted shut, her head nodding violently as she struggled to maintain her pace. He'd given her too much for someone who didn't use regularly, someone her size, and she was crashing out, falling asleep against her will right there. Poor thing.

He slapped her again, the sound ringing out across the vast, empty desert, watching closely as she startled back into a fully upright posture, her hips stilling for a moment before slowly beginning to churn again, her gaze unfocused.

"Mmm." she murmured groggily, leaning forward and placing her forehead against his shoulder, her arms winding around his neck as she tried her best to keep in some sort of motion.

This gesture, the way she cuddled up to him and sought comfort, support from him, even after the way he'd treated her, the fact that he'd literally just slapped her awake, was the only thing she'd done thus far that truly quelled the ugly, raging anger inside him.

"Thought this stuff was s'posed to wake you up." she sighed into the crook of his neck. She was entering the peak of her high, her body pitifully liquid against his chest as she clearly struggled to stay upright.

Personally, Cooper was reaching the un-fun part of his comedown, where everything started to feel grating and the mind began to uncloud, providing an increasingly painful level of clarity, but the senses remained muddled in a way that provided more discomfort than relief.

"Usually does. You had too much, baby." he responded, the mild chastisement in his tone doing a poor job of hiding the guilt behind it. His naked hands stroked reverently at her back, at the long, wind-swept hair that flowed down it, mindful to hold her so that she wouldn't lilt too far to one side as he attempted to soothe her.

Familiar with the unpleasant swimming sensation too much Jet could give you, he let her relax fully against him, the small sigh she let out one of gratitude as her whole body sagged even further. But she didn't stop grinding against him, probably out of some sort of pleasure for herself, he figured as he could feel her greedy insides tugging around him. He hid his grin again, this time in the crook of her neck as his hands found her hips once more, easily lifting her a few inches before dropping her down again, bouncing her on his cock as she rested.

Things went on like that for a spell, him bobbing and rocking her naked, lax body on top of his as she curled up on his shoulder, cooing and nodding off from time to time. As his high wore off, the sensitivity in his body was returning, and it made her feel more and more overwhelming as he continued to fuck her, her hot, wet little cunt leaking all over him as he continued to use her body to get himself off.

She seemed to be more conscious now than before, though barely, jostled awake by the increasing force of his thrusts up into her, bare breasts heaving with the movement. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to trace his lips down her chest, sealing them around her puffy, erect nipple and swiping his tongue along her slightly salty flesh. In response, her arms tightened around his neck, holding him on her breast as she clenched around him hard.

"Cooper." she whimpered, and that single little sound pushed him right into what felt like the most powerful orgasm he'd ever had, his fingers digging into her hips far too hard as he dropped her full weight onto him, grinding her down onto his cock and yanking her against him. His head dropped back, dead weight as he let out a feral snarl, tapering off into a throaty moan.

As he throbbed his gift up inside her, she squirmed at the feeling, tucking her bright red face into the side of his neck in what read as slight embarrassment, giving little huffs and whimpers as he continued to fill her. Another, smaller wave of guilt nagged at him as she clung to him, as he held her as close as he possibly could, struggling to regain control of his breathing; even if she'd had sex before, she'd never done this.

He held her as long as she could tolerate, her grip around him loosening slowly as she moved closer to real sleep. His girl was exhausted through and through, lightly snoozing against his chest.

For a few minutes, he let her rest uninterrupted, scanning her over to assess how badly he'd fucked up. She seemed fairly intact, though certainly more bruised than before. Eventually, he went digging into her bag, knowing (hoping) that she would have Radaway somewhere, and letting out a small sigh of relief when he found some jammed into the bottom.

Only one dose; he would have to find her more, and soon. This would be enough to see her through the next day, though, and he was pleasantly surprised to note that she wasn't showing even minor signs of radiation sickness as he found a vein in her arm, starting up the intravenous line to administer the thick, yellowed solution. Surprisingly, she didn't rouse fully when he slid the included needle into place, but she did begin to stir and groan mildly as the stuff began to effuse. Dimly, he remembered being given it when he'd been in the service, and how shitty it could make you feel.

Softly, he stroked her cheek with the backs of his bare knuckles before setting to jabbing her with a Stimpak from his bag around where she'd stuck some staples in her belly, making a note to ask her what had given her the several inches-long laceration he saw there.

He hesitated, though, when he moved to give her a dose of Med-X he'd dug out from the depths of his saddlebag. Most of the Wasteland's mind-rotting and pain-soothing substances were on the table for him, and in great amounts, but he hated the way the opiate made him sluggish and sleepy, reducing his accuracy in a fight significantly. The pain relief it provided wasn't worth it if he ended up dead anyway.

Smoothskins loved it, though, so he usually kept a few syringes on him for bartering purposes. Never did he think he'd be happy to give so much of his stash away for free.

He knew she must be hurting, or, she would be when she woke up, whenever that was. But he was hesitant to give her anything else, both for fear of how she would react, and, somewhat selfishly, because he knew a proper dose would make her sleep even longer, and he was desperate to actually get to speak with her again.

If she asked for the stuff, he'd give it to her. But...tomorrow. After they'd gotten a chance to discuss everything that had happened with cooler, more sober heads. After he was sure she wouldn't wake up in the morning and hate him for what he'd done to her.

His fingers played softly in her mussed hair as the indigo cover of night faded into the periwinkle of twilight, washing her nearly grey in his arms. She slept hard awhile, undisturbed until the awkward angle of her neck made him gently resettle her into a more comfortable-seeming position, letting her slip down until she was curled up in a ball on her side in his lap, her head supported in the crook of his elbow. Lying this way, he'd have to hold her up while she slept, but he found himself strangely excited at the prospect.

"M'sorry I ran away." she murmured suddenly after a long period of silence, readjusting herself in his lap to curl closer.

"I know, kid. I forgive you." he replied after a moment of hesitation, the words soft and strange as they formed on his lips. He petted her hair as gently as he could manage. "Did a good job findin' your way back to me, pup. Proud of you."

"Mmm. Please don't be mad at me." she echoed his own thoughts softly, so slurred as she finally began into unconsciousness that it was barely intelligible, her face buried in his side.

"I'm not." he said, fully, completely honest for once in his long life. He let his eyelids rest, his hand on his gun, ready to stop anyone who would try to ruin this quiet moment under the fading stars. "I promise. Now, get some sleep, pup. I know you came a long way today."

She sighed at that, as if to say "You have no idea." before flopping loosely into his arms, and was snoring lightly within a minute. He allowed himself a small smile at this, at how earnest and adorable she was.

"Good girl." he murmured.

[everythingisromant1c]

Take Me Out (to the Ball Game)

james potter x reader

summary - in which you take your very platonic friend James out to his first baseball game to enjoy its many festivities, including but not limited to: the kiss cam.

type - one shot

wc [2.5k]

tags: James Potter x reader, friends to lovers, muggle!reader, fluff, baseball game date, kiss cam, and one very unexpected first kiss.

a/n: i am not an avid baseball enthusiast so if there's any terminology mistakes i apologize <33 happy reading! (check this out on my ao3!)

Your first order of business that summer was getting a very sheltered James into your world, or, the muggle world, as he liked to call it. You'd had the honor of taking him to his first muggle movie, bringing him on his first muggle shopping spree, and having him try a Slurpee for the first time—you'd discovered he liked Coca-Cola and Cherry the best.

The last thing on your list of activities was to take him to his first baseball game. By the time the afternoon had come, you'd done just that.

You settled into one of the upper-level infield seats after James so graciously offered to pay for the tickets and practically everything else the entire day, even with all your resisting. He hadn't held back with his spending, both of your hands tucked underneath foam fingers, with a baseball helmet full of buttery popcorn sitting on your lap.

James looked so in his element from beside you, wearing the baseball jersey you'd pointed out in the merchandise section on your way into the stadium, his hair lightly shifting in the warm summer breeze. He looked roguishly handsome in what he classified as 'muggle clothing' to you with a harmless roll of his eyes, but you selfishly loved the sight. Though, more than anything, he seemed like he was enjoying himself, and that was what mattered most to you.

"What's that?" You watched as James pointed a foam finger up diagonally towards what looked like just the blue afternoon sky, until you followed his line of vision to the large screen in the distance. You let a thin smile overtake your features at his curiosity.

"That's the Jumbotron." You picked up a piece of popcorn and threw it into your mouth, James shaking off his foam finger and stealing a handful from the bowl on your lap with a lopsided grin.

"The jumbo what?"

You held back your laugh. "The jumbotron. It's a big screen they put at sports stadiums. Like a TV, only a lot bigger."

James squinted from beside you. "Who wants to watch a 'TV' when they're at a baseball game?"

The corners of your eyes crinkled at the way the word 'TV' sounded so foreign from his lips, and you shook your head. "It's not actually a TV. They show what's going on in the game on a big screen so everyone can see it. But they use it for other stuff too. Sometimes they'll have interactive games or use it as a kiss cam."

"A kiss cam?" James only sounded more confused then, his brows pulling together, but that time around the corners of his lips were quirking up with amusement.

You couldn't help your laugh at his intrigue. You shook your head to yourself. "It's kind of a dumb tradition, really." He nodded at you to continue, eyes sweet. "Basically, when the kiss cam comes on, the cameramen find random people in the audience and put them on the screen. Whoever comes up on the screen is meant to kiss."

 You watched James's features curl into both amusement and horror. He blinked his warm eyes at you. "So they just go around making strangers kiss each other?"

You giggled. "Not strangers," you chided. "It usually only lands on couples."

"How are they supposed to know who's a couple and who's not?"

You shrugged. "I suppose you can always just kind of tell." Looking away from him and his incredulous stare and down at your lap, you set your bowl of popcorn in James's lap instead. "I'm gonna use the bathroom."

James took a light hold of your wrist as you stood up, sitting up straighter in his seat to look up at you. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, that's alright," you told him. "You should watch our seats." You turned around towards the stairs to your left but paused to turn around one last time. "And tell me what I missed once I get back."

James tipped his head at you, saluting you playfully, and you smiled before leaving. You were more than satisfied with how the day was going and let your smile creep up on your lips the entire way to the restroom and back. You returned after a few minutes, having to scan the sea of baseball fans for the head of unruly brown curls you were so familiar with. You found him after a quick beat when he turned around, waving you over as his features lit warmly. You made your way down the concrete steps, scooting your way past a few people before finding your seat again.

"What'd I miss?" you asked, settling into the plastic chair underneath you as James held up the almost empty bowl of popcorn for you to take some. You did, and you didn't miss the way he placed his arm around the back of your seat carefully, his body heat emitting even underneath the summer sun.

"Nothing much," James answered casually. "But one of the guys hit the ball all the way into the stands."

Your eyes widened comically as you sat up to face him. "You mean he hit a home run?"

James paused momentarily at your reaction, and it was like you could visibly see him tracing through all the baseball vocabulary you'd gone over with him at the start of the game. "I think so."

"What team was it?"

He blinked at you and your probably anxious tone, panicking as he shrugged. "You think I know the names?"

You tipped your head at him amusedly as you took a breath in. "What color was the guy wearing?"

"Uh, maybe blue?" At that, you nodded happily, facing forward again. "Or maybe it was black. I don't have my glasses on."

You looked over at him exasperatedly but still felt the urge to laugh. You nudged him in the shoulder when you could see he felt badly for his scorekeeping skills, or lack of them. "It's alright. We can just check the scoreboard."

He seemed to calm at that, following your line of vision out into the field, when he paused. "Hey, isn't that the kiss cam you were talking about?"

You shifted your gaze to his nodding head, and then over the Jumbotron, and saw with familiarity that it was, in fact, time for the kiss cam. Lighthearted music played in the background as the larger-than-life screen lit up, pink hearts surrounding it and serving as a border to the people the screen displayed.

"Oh my God, it is," you breathed, lightly hitting James on the knee a few times in excitement. He chuckled from beside you, both of your eyes locking on the screen with interest as it pointed itself to different couples around the stadium. A few older couples were displayed, one pair of teenagers probably on a date, and a mother and father whose kids were cringing from beside them, but all of them turned to kiss the other without a word in protest, the stands applauding each time.

You smiled fondly, turning to the man beside you. "See James, it's not creepy. It's sweet, isn't it?"

"Yeah yeah," he placated with a playful roll of his eyes. "You're such a romantic."

You dropped your jaw for a moment before pointing a finger at his chest accusatorially. "As if you're not one, Potter."

The sides of his mouth lifted up into a charming grin and he pulled you into his side, ruffling your hair. You scrunched up your features, pushing away from him as you shot him a glare without any real annoyance, feeling your cheeks ache from your smile.

Shaking your head, you turned away from James and back towards the field, but stopped moving almost right away. Your heart stilled in your chest.

"Oh my God."

At your words, James turned worriedly from you to look where you were. When his gaze landed on the Jumbotron, his face lit up.

Stating the obvious, you swallowed. "It's showing us."

James looked between you and the ginormous screen across the field that was showing both you and him from where you sat, and beamed as the crowd began to clap and whoop. He waved out at the screen like the extrovert he was, looking like he was enjoying himself way too much as you stayed frozen in your seat.

When the camera didn't pan away and the crowd became louder, he turned to you, speaking out of the side of his mouth. "They don't seem very happy."

You shook your head, tone strained. "They want us to kiss, James."

You looked up at the screen that showed the two of you, watching your shocked and quite frankly mortified expression reflected back to you, almost funny in comparison to James's glowing smile.

"Well, let's give the people what they want."

Your head snapped over to a calm James as your brows tugged. "Wh-" you sputtered. "We can't do that."

"Why not?" James questioned, and when he looked back out at the crowd with his bright expression they began roaring excitedly. "It's the kiss cam!"

"The kiss cam is for couples." You emphasized the word, looking around at the people seated around you who couldn't only see you but hear you. You lowered your voice insecurely. "We're not a couple."

"It doesn't seem like they care." James gestured back to the screen, pink hearts now outlining the image of both of you from afar, an almost satirical sight that left you reeling.

You looked back down at your lap, and then at James pointedly. "That's because they think we're a couple."

Though, when you looked up at the screen, you couldn't ignore the fact that the two of you sort of did look like a couple. With James's arm thrown over the back of your seat, and the way you were both subconsciously sitting on the insides of your seats and leaning into each other, the mistake wasn't totally non-understandable. The fact only made heat rise to your cheeks.

James shook his head as his smile stayed plastered on his face, and you sighed. The Jumbotron was somehow still displaying the two of you, and the stands were still loud in anticipation. Like the supervillain you were, you shook your head back and forth. When they began to boo, you gestured between you and James, mouthing repeatedly "We're friends!", though the crowd didn't seem to care. You could hear James snorting from next to you.

Finally, even with the stands still roaring, the camera panned away to display the next couple—not that you and James were one—and you felt like you could finally breathe again.

"Jesus," you huffed, feeling like you'd just run some sort of marathon, and James shook his head at you fondly. For some reason you found it much too difficult to look him in the eyes, so you kept your eyes trained on the field.

When you felt the shifting of his shoulders from next to you followed by uneven breathing, you snapped your head to look at James. "Are you laughing at me?"

"No!" he swore, innocently putting his hands up, though the amused smirk on his lips didn't try to hide itself.

You sighed, ignoring the man to your right and turning back to face the field again, but you regretted that choice right away when you saw your reflection staring back at you through the Jumbotron once again.

"Oh my God," you swore again as the stands rumbled with encouraging shouts. This time around, you were quick to hide your face in James's chest. You didn't need to look up at him to know that he was still unbothered by the whole situation, feeling the way his chest lifted softly up and down with laughter from beneath you.

"Who the hell is controlling this thing?" Your panicked words came out muffled into James's baseball jersey. Whether he understood them or not, he put his hand around your shoulder, rubbing at it soothingly.

"I thought you said they were sweet," he challenged, and when you pulled away from him again he had a shit-eating grin on his face.

You pursed your lips, turning to look up at the Jumbotron and the pink hearts surrounding you and James, and the crowd went somehow even louder. At the absurdity of it all, you let a laugh escape you, looking down at your lap.

"Come on," James cooed, his arm still on your shoulder comfortingly. "What's the harm?"

You glanced up at him and his eyes, warm like honey, and stopped to think to yourself. Really, what was the harm?

When you didn't say anything, James looked between the stands and you. Then he leaned forward until he was level with your nervous face, voice going soft. "Alright," he gave in. "We don't have to if you're uncomfortable."

You chewed at the inside of your cheek as James turned away again towards the crowd, waving his hand at the camera as if to say 'Move on.' They only booed and kept on shouting.

You couldn't identify the feeling growing in your chest, but you knew it was a new feeling. You looked up at the Jumbotron and at your and James's reflections in it—truly looking the part of a 'couple'—and at the people in the stands that seemed to beckon to you, and then at James. He looked good—too good. His jawline was sharp and stern as he looked out at the crowd, lashes fanning against his face effortlessly, and his unruly hair shined perfectly in underneath the sun. Worst of all, you recognized just how much you missed the grin that'd been on his face all day, and wanted to see it nothing more than to see it again.

You didn't know what had come over you, when you said, "Screw it," but the words came out low enough that it came as a surprise to James when you reached out a hand to his cheek.

He turned to look at you with little effort on your part, surprise taking over his features before it shifted into amused interest, pink lips curling up as he looked down at you.

You were nervous under his gaze, and surely the thousands of others that were observing all of this through the jumbo screen, but his seemed like the only one that mattered in that moment. Before you could grow too nervous and chicken out, you closed the distance between you with a hand on the back of his neck.

Sparks flittered through you right away, starting from your lips and rushing through the rest of you. The way the entire stadium roared in the background, the sound meeting your ears like the crash of a symbol, had your cheeks heating and your lips curving up in a smile.

You felt James's boyish grin pressing against your lips, growing as you tugged at the hair by the nape of his neck, and you loved the feeling.

When you finally pulled away, you felt out of breath. You knew it didn't help that the kiss cam was still pinned on you, but the way James was looking down at you certainly wasn't helping either. His eyes raked over your face with wonder, cheeks flushed, his lips a deepened pink color from the pressure of the kiss, but he didn't look like he minded.

"Wow," he said, and you fought the urge to hide your face in his neck at his breathlessness. "You should take me to baseball games more often."

Your own face flushed at his words, his voice husky as he said them. You tipped your head at him and shrugged happily, feeling braver than you had all morning. "Maybe I should."

[yooglefics]

Reveal — Part three: celebrating

Pairing: Yoongi x fem!reader ( camboy!yoongi x camgirl!reader )  Wordcount: 4,513 words Genre: 18+ / smut. mdni! remember to not use fics as your only source of sex ed.  Summary: Your birthday celebration takes a turn when Jungkook forgets to uninvite a particular guest. Part 3 of Recording & Editing. Read it in that order for context. More warnings under read more.

Includes: 3k words of just smut. Mentions of posting / selling sex content. Dirty talk. Use of pet names ( baby, doll, good girl? ). Fingering ( f ), Oral sex ( f and m ). Frottage. Cum play? A bit of overstimulation? Possessive Yoongi because Reveal!Yoongi is just like that and I can't do anything about it. It's true, I tried.  Author's note: Okay, I think this is actually the last one for this. A trilogy is fine, right? But also don't quote me on that because clearly I can't seem to know how to stop writing this pair and I'm watching Jungkook from a distance like 👀 but shhh Which speaking of, I was thinking and if you want to know more about the characters in this verse specifically, you can send an ask with “( reveal!verse )” at the beginning, maybe specify if you want it to be answered ic with “( @ reveal!theirname )” , and a question or whatever you want to say. Idk, thought it could be fun~ Also, I made a post with different options for tag lists in case anyone is interested. You know, for future projects and stuff. But don't feel preassure to request it, and thank you for following this mini series. Anyway. I hope you like this and if you do please remember to comment, reblog, ask, follow, and whatnot. And again, thank you for reading <3

“You know, you could reply instead of just staring at it,” Jungkook says, over your shoulder.

You're sitting in your living room, phone in your hand with the audio post on screen. There was no way of denying you were caught, you had already embarrassed yourself by acting like a schoolgirl when telling him about SugaD leaving a comment.

“But what if I say something dumb and he deletes it?”

“Why would he do that? He thinks you're cute,” he teases.

“The cutest,” you correct, silly smile on your face once again. 

“See. You should shoot your shot and talk to him, he clearly is interested in you too,” he winks, finally walking around the couch to sit at your side, fresh bowl of popcorn on his lap.

“But it's all so crazy. I don't even know how he found my page, he only follows big creators.”

“Well, he asked me.”

“What?”

“He asked who you were,” his Bambi eyes blink at you, fear creeping on his soft expression, “I… don't kill me, please.” He moves away from you and that makes you turn to him, leg over the couch and phone forgotten.

“Jungkook? What did you do?” All the scenarios go through your mind, imagining the worst. He told him you kind of have a big old crush on him even if you have never seen his face? Did he tell him about the joke of suing him because he is so—

“And I was busy so I thought, you know, he works with music and edits his own content and it seemed like a good idea,” he is talking so fast and you realize you missed the beginning of it, but before you can ask him to start over he just burst it, “so he edited it.”

“He what?”

“The audio. Your audio. He edited it.”

“My… audio.” The audio you're sure included the start of his video.

Fuck.

Shit.

That's so much worse.

You should delete your account. Delete yourself. You want to move to another country and change your name. 

“Fuck.”

“I'm sorry. I should have asked you, but I figured…” he trails off, coming closer again. “I just… I didn't think it was a big deal because… well, I didn't know he was gonna subscribe to you. He only subscribes to people he is friends with and I know he doesn't even watch their stuff.”

You can tell he is trying to make you feel better, and although you appreciate the effort, everything is confusing. Does that mean he wants to be friends? But he doesn't watch his friends's content so… no friends?

“Fuck.” You murmur again.

“Are you mad at me?” Jungkook asks softly, worrying the ring on his bottom lip. 

“I… don't know.”

“Do you want me to go?”

“No. Let's finish the movie.”

But you can concentrate for the rest of it, and know that you'd have to watch it again another time in case your friend brings up something important about the plot. But now, the only thing in your head is theories about what you're going to do about that one particular comment and, again, you consider just deleting the whole thing.

Jungkook invites you the next weekend to the restaurant, it's his free day but he tells you he can get you the birthday special even if it’s one day early and he can even sing for you. You tell him you are only going if he doesn't make a whole thing out of it. You'd wear the birthday hat and blow out the candles, but if he dares to bring more attention to you, you actually will kill him.

He believes you. 

And so, here you are. Sitting in a booth in front of Jungkook and Hanna, your best friend. Big chocolate cake in front of you that they insisted on getting because “you can have it for dessert for the next week and think about how much we love you”, and also because you love chocolate.

“Sorry. Am I late?” A voice behind you interrupts the end of the birthday song, your smile falling because you could recognize it anywhere, and the fact that he is here makes you panic.

“Oh, shit… ah…” Jungkook stumbles over his words, even comes close to knocking his drink. “Sorry. Hi.” He greets the guy and throws an apologetic look your way. “This is my friend Yoongi.”

“Oh, hi. I'm Hanna and didn't know we were waiting for someone, but good thing we got a big cake, uh?” she jokes and looks at you. She does that whenever you're around people and you don't talk, her way of making you feel included. 

But right now you want to disappear. Birthday crown and all. Maybe take the cake too.

“Hi,” you say timidly, eyes on Jungkook instead.

“I…” he starts, remorseful look on his face as he explains, “invited Yoongi last week, didn't want to third wheel with you two.”

“Oh, that's fun! Well, you want to sit there or should I move?” Hanna proposes and you're about to say she should come to your side even if that means Jungkook has to stand up too, but Sug— Yoongi speaks faster.

“I’ll sit here. Is that okay?” 

You only nod, scooting to your right to make space for him. To not be so close he notices how nervous he makes you just with his presence.

He smells nice. Fresh and woody at the same time, and is only overwhelming because is him. Because a lot of things about him are a mystery still and you are about to unlock them all right now.

“Those are cute,” Hanna says.

“Ah, yes. I… these are for you,” a bouquet is presented on your line of vision. Is not big nor too much, the perfect size to be a nice present and it lets you admire the flowers’ beauty. “Happy birthday.”

“You didn't have to.”

“You don't like it?” If you weren't so focused on your own nerves you'd have noticed the ones on his voice.

“I do.” You quickly say. It's cute. The lavender mixed with two types of white flowers you don't recognize but you love the look of, mostly the one that looks like little stars. “Is really pretty. Thank you.”

“I'll bring you a drink,” Jungkook says, and looking at him you know he needs one himself. You could actually kill him after this.

“Wait, where is the restroom?” Asks Hanna and your eyes lift from your present so fast your neck almost hurts, but she is quickly disappearing in the direction Jungkook points her to.

And that's what you get for keeping everything a secret from your best friend. Karma as its finest.

“Pff,” you breathe, sinking into your seat. 

“I can go if you want me to,” Yoongi says softly at your side.

“What? No, no is—” you try to explain is not him. Nothing is wrong actually. Everything is perfect and you're totally not freaking out.

“You haven't looked my way,” does he sounds hurt? “Is alright. I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything, I just thought… I don't know. JK invited me weeks ago and then I found out who you were,” you cringe at that, knowing he most likely means when he listened to your audio. “I figured I'd take the chance and meet you.”

“Why? I mean. Don't you feel uncomfortable because of the…” finishing your sentence feels unnecessary and saying it at loud is embarrassing.

“The fact that you watch my videos?”

“I swear I only watched like three and I don't do that with all of them is just— Are you laughing?” Finally you turn to him, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Sorry, sorry. But is that supposed to make me feel better?” 

You don't answer. 

“Of course I don't mind.” He leans in, "If you sound that cute, I'll let you watch all of them for free.”

Breath caughts on your throat, looking at him with big round eyes. His face is right there and you try to take it all in. Clean shaved, jawline not too harsh and with soft features, crested moon shaped brown eyes, pink lips, and the way they curve up when he catches you staring at them.

“I don't want to go, but if you want me to, I'll do it.” he backs out, and somehow you can tell he is genuine.

“Stay.”

After dinner and some chatting, Jungkook offers to drive Hanna home and Yoongi takes you to his place. It’s fancy, looks like taken out of a magazine and you tell him exactly that. He asks you if you want to judge his room too and with a laugh you tell him yes, because honestly, you're curious now.

You tell him it doesn't look too cozy and suggest investing in a nice blanket, he raises an eyebrow at you and finally you confess you're an interior designer by day. He tells you he is a music producer. And then you talk about how and why each of you decided to join OF and what kind of things you have discovered you like during that journey.

“Interesting,” he says when you confess you started following him because of a hand picture you saw somewhere else. He has been playing with your fingers while you lay on his bed, is relaxing and you don’t mind at all. “You said you were going to sue me, should I even be this close?” 

“Oh my—” you pull away, covering your face. And he laughs. “Go away.”

“No, c'mon. It's cute.” He tries to turn your body to its side, but you don't give in. “Look at me, please.”

“No. I can't.”

“Why?”

“Because no.”

He laughs again, hand on your hip, “Baby, please?” Head shake is your answer, “I'm sorry. Should I confess something too?” 

“Yes.”

“Let's see,” he props himself on his elbow, looking at you even if you are still covered. “I knew about you before the audio.”

“You did?”

“Well, Jungkook talks about you all the time and I was curious. I think it was the third time you guys collabed that I saw a picture and he mentioned your name on his page.”

“Which picture?” You ask, uncovering half your face to look at him, he smiles.

“The one with the books. You were holding one in front of you.”

You remember that. Like all your pictures with Jungkook, it was suggestive more than anything and in that one the pose made it look like you were touching yourself.

“And now I know what you sound like doing that,” he teases, “wonder if I'd be lucky enough to see it someday.”

“You've to stay subscribed and see,” is your turn to have fun.

“Should I make another instruction video for you?” or maybe not. And before you cover yourself again, he holds your wrist, bracelet digging a little on your skin but not enough to actually hurt. “Don't. Let me see you.”

“Yoongi…”

“Fuck. Don't say my name like that,” is only half joking, but he knows you can tell he wants you just as much. “Can I kiss you?” 

You nod and his lips touch yours in a millisecond. They are soft, but his movements are quick, and soon his tongue is asking for permission to enter your mouth. With a moan, you granted happily and hungry to taste him. 

His hand goes back to your waist, only resting before squishing it gently. Your own hand traveling to his nape and bringing him closer, your chests touching.

In need of air you break the kiss, and instead of stopping, his mouth keeps working down your jaw and neck, “ohh…” you try to breathe, throwing your head back just enough to give him space. It feels so good you don't want to stop.

And he doesn't. He continues until he reaches the fabric of your dress, covering your chest. He imagines your little gold collar he saw in some pictures. He thinks about buying you one on silver to match his own jewelry or buying a chain for himself the color of yours. Anything would do, he just wants you to be his and for people to know.

“W-wait,” your voice brings him back, and he stops immediately, “don't leave marks. At least not visible.”

“Okay, I can get creative.” A wink seals his promise and his hand moves to the buttons in the front of your dress, his lips following soon behind to attach themselves to the exposed skin. To your breast. He licks and kisses and when he reaches your nipple he flicks his tongue a few times. 

That gets a good reaction from you, but he still asks “You like that?” because it does good to his ego and the mid-erection on his pants.

You nod between whimpers and can feel his laugh through his chest resting on your stomach, “is that enough?” You look at him, the lust on his eyes and his stupid smirk on his lips when he frees your abused skin from his mouth, leaving a bruise on your breast. “Is my tongue enough to make you cum, doll?” 

And your pussy answers for herself. Legs impossibly close in search of some friction and, of course, Yoongi noticed.

“You need something?”

“P-please…”

“Tell me. I'll give you anything, baby.” His voice is raspy like on the videos you watch alone at night. Except is not through a screen and is actually directed to you. Is everything you wanted while touching yourself and for a second you wonder if it's really happening.

Running your hand through his hair you look at him, now lower on the bed and playing with the bottom of your dress while he waits for a sign between your folded legs, cheek against your thigh, letting you catch your breath. 

“Yoongi?” 

“Hmm?” his hand stops on your leg, heavy and warm.

“Touch me, please.”

And you don't have to tell him twice. His hands roam your body, while he leaves kisses here and there. Too desperate to finish unbuttoning it, the bottom of your dress gets pooled at your waist, revealing the lilac lingerie he saw a picture of the other day. 

“So pretty,” he whispers, fingertips traising the embroidered details. It makes you shiver. “Fuck, I can see how wet you are.” His movements travel south to the patch over your entrance, and you respond just as he expects, moaning.

And before you can get used to that, his tongue is on you, flat over the wet and thin fabric. “Can't wait to taste you properly,” sounds a lot like a promise.

Biting your lip, you contemplate asking him to hurry, to give you anything. To get rid of all of your clothes yourself.

But he knows exactly how to drive you crazy. 

Moving your panties to the side with the help of his left hand, the fingers on his right one make an appearance again. Collecting your wetness and using it to rub over your pussy, only applying little pressure at first. Moans echo throughout his room once again, louder and this time in the company of a couple groans from him when he finally pushes in. 

“O-oh… oh my,”

“That's it. Let me hear your pretty sounds,” he encourages, letting you get used to the sensation before adding another one, his eyes on you the whole time. In the way you lick your lips before moaning, the way your hips move towards his hand asking to be fucked, the way your pussy wraps around his fingers. 

“...more.” Is barely a whisper but he hears it, smiling at you.

“Want more? Is not enough?”

“Need you, please” 

And how can he say no to you when you look at him that way. Like he is the only one that can give you what you need, how you want. 

His head disappears between your legs, mouth watering at the thought. He can't even deny he was waiting for you to ask him to eat you out, he would do it in a second, whenever you want, because “oh, god, you taste so sweet.” 

Feeling your legs closing he holds them back, pushing them against your torso with his free hand and squishing your soft skin just as tight as you are doing to his fingers. Thinking about how much force he would need to apply to leave a mark.

“F-fu… fuck. It, it feels so good, please.”

He is proud, lips curving lightly but without wanting to pull away to smile properly. His tongue laps at your entrance alongside his fingers, moving faster and faster, against that spot that makes your body tremble and makes the knot at the bottom of your abdomen want to scream.

“Please, please, please…” 

And he knows what that means. Knows you're close and just need a little push, and he gives it to you in the form of a “Cum for me, baby.”

And you do. Head back and pussy tight around him, legs closing and hand pushing him away when his tongue keeps working, overstimulating and catching all that you give him.

“Oh… my…” you breath. Legs still shaking but feet finally on the mattress again. 

He is standing at the end of his bed, one hand pushing his long hair back and the other unbuckling his belt, eyes on you while he takes you in. “Was that good?” He asks, you nod and he smiles matching yours. “Great. You deserve it.” 

“You want some help with that?” 

“What do you want?” Yoongi throws back, “You’re the birthday girl, after all.”

Worrying your bottom lip between your teeth, thoughts filled with ideas of the things you had wished to be able to do before, you watch him get rid of his jeans and boxers, his dick on full view for you. Only you. “Can I suck you off?”

Obviously, he can't say no, so he nods and you are quick to stand up, legs still feeling a bit weak after your orgasm, but it isn't a problem because as quick as your dress falls completely to the floor, you're kneeling in front of him, between his legs and hands on his tights.

You watch him stroke himself a couple times through gritted teeth, his other hand coming to cup your cheek as you get closer to his length. Saying you had been waiting for this wouldn't be an exaggeration, and without breaking eye contact you stick your tongue out, touching the blush tip slowly. 

He sighed, as if he was, too, relieved at the contact. “So pretty.” 

You push his hand away, taking his hardened length into your hand, only realizing then how big he actually is.

Tapping his dick on your tongue gets you a groan from him and you hum as you wrap your lips around the head, circling your tongue around it inside your mouth before letting go. He smiles at you, his chest moving fast as his breathing increases and his eyes are filled with lust. Your hand moves up and down when your mouth is not working, still wanting him to feel good.

Preparing yourself, you get closer again, taking more in and closing your eyes, adjusting to the girth. 

“Fuck,” he moans, thumb softly stroking your face as his hand moves to the back of your neck when you imitate the previous movements of your hand, going up and down, taking more and more into your mouth. “Y-yeah, just like that.”

The encouragement helps the feeling on your lower abdomen to build in again, pussy squeezing around nothing and moaning around his dick, making Yoongi clench his jaw, bucking his hip up, and letting his grip go only at the last second. He wants to fuck your mouth so bad. Only watching your lips around him is driving him crazy and you feel oh, so warm. 

“So pretty, doll,” he compliments as you try to keep your eyes on him as much as possible, only closing them when he hits the back of your throat. 

You come up, catching your breath as you let your hand do some more work. Collecting your spit and rubbing your thumb on his sensitive tip. He reacts just as you expect, groans and head tilted back slightly, with his hands on either side gripping the black sheets. And that gives you an idea. 

“Can you…” eyes are on you immediately, but you wish they weren't because that makes you shy and is even more difficult to ask.

“Tell me, baby.” He pleads, “I'll give you anything, just ask.”

But is easier to show than tell, and your fingers grab around one of his wrists, positioning his hand on the back of your head. “Just… hold it.” 

“Fuck.” He has to inhale quickly before nodding, are you reading his mind? “tap my thigh if it gets too much, okay?”

A nod of your own, licking your lips before taking his dick in your mouth once again, the simple weight of his hand being enough to encourage you to take more in and staying there a bit longer before bobbing your head.

Yoongi alternates between letting you follow your own peace and holding you down for a few more seconds every once in a while, finally letting himself slam his hips more harshly against your mouth and the back of your throat. His moans fill the air as he pushes into you. “feels amazing… you take my cock so well.” You hum, making his hips fuck into you at the vibration, increasing the tension on his lower abdomen. “Such a good girl.”

“I could fuck your pretty mouth all night,” he goes on, looking down at you and all the mess you've created between his legs. “Oh f-fuck. What a beautiful sight.” opening your eyes makes the view even better, and he holds your head down, making you gag around his dick, “ah… ah…” he lets go, not wanting to come just yet.

And it might be the first time you see him and his beautiful dick in person, but SugaD’s last video is fresh on your mind, —how could it not after the anxiety of him finding out— so you remember he likes to hold back. And is hot. But he is right, is your birthday celebration and you don't want to play by his rules.

“Are you close?” the hoarseness in your voice is surprising for a second, but you don't have time to think about how it's most likely going to hurt tomorrow because he is fixing your hair behind your ears with a devious smile on his beautiful face.

“Want me to come in your pretty mouth?”

“No.” He raises an eyebrow at the quickness of your answer. “I have an idea.”

Standing up, your knees thank you, only realizing then you'll also have to deal with that later, being so in your head while giving head, the weight of having him in your mouth a priority, that you didn't even care until then. 

You're back laying on his bed, pulling Yoongi to be in front of you, between your legs. “Is going to be embarrassingly fast if you ask me to fuck you right now.”

And for a second you consider it. Because he is not saying no and because he looks so good like this, hands reaching down to hold your waist and bring you closer to him down the bed. But you shake your head no. “You ruined my plans today,” feeling the need to justify your pervy desires you explain, “I was supposed to take pics today for my birthday post, so now you have to help.”

“You want me to take pictures of you?” also not saying no, just clarifying, and you can see in the lust of his gaze he likes the idea.

“I want you to do something first,” shyness invades again but looking down at his hardened length is enough to deliver the message, “and then take a picture. If you want.”

Yoongi is close to you again, bending down to kiss you with a “fuck yes, I want to.” His dick is resting over your pelvis, and you can't help the involuntary thrust your own body does. It feels heavy, and warm, and just so perfect. And when he thrust his hips, frotting against yours, you can't take it.

“Y-yoongi,” and he does it again and again, and soon you're cumming by just the feeling and the thought of how would it be to be actually fucked by him, how much would he reach inside you, making you feel so full and “Ohhh… oh”

He holds you and kisses down your neck as you come down your high a second time, before kneeling once more at the end of the bed. “You look so fucking precious, baby,” he notes, hand wrapping around his dick once more.

“You look great too,” you offer, biting your lip before letting honesty take over shyness, “I finally get to see you.”

“You been thinking about it?” He knows exactly what you mean. The reason he cuts it off his videos isn't just for privacy, is to give people something to wish for, to yearn.

You nod.

“Baby wants to see me cum?” Another nod, lost for words, but he is not having it. “Tell me.”

“Yoongi…”

“C'mon, baby. Tell me,” he taps his dick over your clothed pussy. Once, twice. Making your body jump at each touch. He teases the tip over your over-sensitive area and then taps again. Honestly, is hard to tell if he is teasing you or himself, but either works.

“I-I want to see you, please.”

His wrist moves in a faster rhythm, his other hand resting on your leg because he just needs to touch you. “Yeah? I'm going to cum,” he pants, “and you're going to show people how gorgeous you look covered on it.” 

You really don't know how much he loves the idea of that, how much he wants to show the world you let him ruin you, how you whisper “please, please,” as he finishes, head thrown back and your name escaping his lips on a moan, shooting white over your naked stomach.

But you can imagine, his victory smile gives him away. And the way he keeps complimenting you all the while grabbing his phone and snapping picture after picture just confirms it.

But you can judge Yoongi too harshly, it does something to you as well. It helps your confidence and a proud smile matches his as he tells you people are going to hate him if you really post this on your page. And that newfound confidence tells you is going to be the first time you click upload without second-guessing yourself.

[     afterhours(y/n):     Thank you for the birthday wishes!     I indeed got a nice present, don't you think?            [ picture ]                                                                          ]

[    SugaD:     Unbelievable 😻     Can we do something for my birthday too?                                                                                                                   ]

♡ Tag list: @m00njinnie , @sexytholland , @seoullove96 , @thelilbutifulthings , @disneyprincessshuri , @yoongibaybee ,

Thank you so much guys for your interest and support on this little series, I appreciate you 🥺💙

➪ Part one. | ➪ Part two | ➪ Updates for this verse | ➪ Ko-fi

➪ Main masterlist. | ➪ Updates in general | ➪ Request & chats ♡

[yvesdot]

How To Get Roughly 50 Notes On An Original Writing Post And Possibly Net A Single Reader

I had someone ask today how I get people to click through and read my writing, and I'm realizing that I've never actually made a post all in one place of everything I do to get a new piece of short fiction off the ground... so here you go! How to get (some) eyes on your work, even if it is not published anywhere of interest and you don't have a marketing team behind you.

The #1 thing is presentation. You want to get people's attention, and once you have it, convince them to keep paying attention. Fortunately, people tend to be both reasonable and predictable, which means all you have to do is follow The Formula.

(original post link)

Here's the formula from the above post broken down:

[giant horizontal title card, preferably animated to catch the eye] OR [a few tasteful parallels, if you're good at parallel posts]

TITLE (linked to where you can read the piece) / wordcount

a quote that is representative of the tone, themes, prose style, and/or the "promise of the premise"

A longer pitch, featuring the overall subject of the piece (transsexual reality TV drama), any comp titles (Detransition, Baby), the main draw (in this case, watching trans people be awful to clueless cis people), major themes (performance), and any other promises you'd like to make (food romance and tigers). You can see that the quote I chose delivers on the promise of trans people intellectually outperforming cis people-- if I were a reader, I would be more likely to trust that the rest of the pitch was accurate based on that assurance.

If you have any positive reviews on your piece, say so. If it has won any awards or contests, say so. If your work has made people cry, Doja Cat - Say So. Always. Generally speaking, more personal and more detailed is better, but keep it to one or two people-- e.g. "when I gave this to my S/O to read he shot milk out of his nose so far I had to go clean under the couch" or "my favorite review of this piece is the reader who said they read it chapter-by-chapter under their covers because they wanted it all to themself." This should be one sentence.

Depending on where the story is published, what you usually promote, etc., it may be worthwhile saying the story is free. Use your judgment on whether the reader can tell.

I also like putting my links at the bottom so someone seeing this on a friend's dash can easily track me around the 'Net. They make me look more professional (I now include a link to my website) and they visually balance the post, in my opinion. This post also happened to have some additional links for bonus content.

This is not as high stakes as it seems. I'm not 100% happy with the pitch here, and I'm not 100% happy with the graphics I've used in other cases. These are some bones that help to sell the piece even when the details aren't as sharp.

REBLOGGING

When is the last time you read something the first time you saw it on your dash? I schedule reblogs of all important posts at least twice over the next 2-3 days, often three times so I can get the morning/afternoon/evening reblog. If your followers tend to be more active at certain times, go ahead and use those. In the past I've intentionally scheduled posts for times I knew more popular mutuals were active, and it has paid off!

I also schedule a reblog for a week and a month and sometimes even a full calendar year out, because I know there is going to be that person who tags the piece '#to read' and instantly forgets about it, only to get excited when they see it weeks later. I am very often that reader. The goal is to catch people when they're ready to read immediately, and this is a game of chance.

Every so often, I go through my entire #writing or #important writing updates or even just #popular tag(s) and queue two dozen posts before shuffling my queue to redistribute matters. This keeps my older work circulating, ensuring new readers get a chance to see older pieces and giving those older pieces another shot at dashboard space. (More on #popular later.) This sounds like a lot, which is why you have to space everything pretty far apart. Fortunately, this is the world's best site for cool things to reblog. I guarantee you that you can find something new you love to post in the meanwhile.

COPING WITH FAME

The post above is what I, a published author, consider "doing well" for a post about my writing on Tumblr. As of October 10th, 2024, over two years after its initial posting and over five years into my posting doggedly about my original fiction, it has 77 notes. More than half (43) are likes. Around half of the reblogs are me promoting my own work or the same very sweet person dutifully reblogging me every time I do so. Glancing through the reblogs now, I know of four people whom I can confirm have read it. Presumably, there are more who are completely silent and have never interacted with the post whatsoever. Genuinely: wahoo!! I am so grateful and happy for the attention and reception of my work.

This is the number one thing I suggest: focus on what you have, and not what you lack. Imagine your post from the perspective of an outsider: even one reblog means you convinced that one person to spread your art! How cool is that! This is also good advice because moping is simply not helpful; it will not get you more reads. (And no, neither will guilting others. Kill that vent post in your head!)

GETTING FOLLOWERS

I don't have that many followers. Of the followers I do have, people are very unpredictably active. When I hear about other people's follower counts I am consistently surprised, because people with half of mine will have fans and haters the likes of which I could not possibly dream of. I follow 500-follower folk who post "I ate a strawberry today" and get 6 asks ranging from "Wow I respect you so much for eating that strawberry" to "I'm going to come to your address at [REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED] and shove bananas down your throat for hating on my favorite fruit."

I point this out to establish three important things. 1) Be grateful for what you have (in my case, 0 anonymous hate asks about fruitpinions), 2) followers have far less impact on interaction than one might think, and 3) followers don't engage with the things you might like them to.

Think about yourself. Are you more likely to reblog a photo of a cat in a pumpkin (alright, here) or something advertising fifteen minutes' worth of writing, which could be, for all you know, bad? Or, for that matter, by a person you should not like to support? Reblogs on generically interesting things are 'safer' (unfortunately) than reblogs on art, and it makes perfect sense that people are skittish around the latter. People don't often reblog things they haven't read, and nobody can reblog every artpost on their dash. Having someone else put it there, however, is incredibly powerful—someone's vetted this post as Worth a Reblog, after all. Having more followers allows for much more of this.

(Followers don't guarantee any one sort of interaction, but having more of them is rarely bad. Rarely.)

Across my most popular posts, one theme becomes very obvious: people like things that apply to them or their blog. I try to post writing advice/opinions/memes every so often, because I know I have a loyal base of writerfolk who like to see that from me, and it's "easier" to reblog than my writing. This is simply the nature of the universe. I used to pretty frequently go into the #writeblr tag and check out what was recently popular so I could figure out how to serve the same base, and from time to time it worked.

You're welcome to examine the list of #writing posts that made it to 100 notes, because each tends to have a notable reason behind its success: a reblog with an exceptionally good review, a contest win, a wordcount that lends itself to pasting the whole thing in one go.

(Posts about my book's release are a notable exception, in part due to Blaze and in part due to my absolutely relentless flogging of their reblog buttons during the ~year of promotion. Also in large part to a dedicated circle of friends who passed the post around nonstop! Thank you so much!!)

A lot of people will tell you to attempt covert reciprocal promotion. You know—reblog a lot of stuff, in the hopes that people will reblog yours. If I could change one thing on Tumblr, it would be this: the culture that quietly encourages disingenously interacting with other people with a secret True Goal in mind. (On the autism website.)

Please, for the love of all that is good and holy, do not do this. If you comment on other people's work, do it because you're happy to do so. When I released Paper Tigress, I went through everybody else who responded to the same prompt and read their work, because I had the day off and I was curious. This has led to Paper Tigress having more comments on Reedsy than one of my contest winners, and even outranking the shortlisted story in the same prompt category. However, this would have been a waste of my time if I did not genuinely enjoy reading the other stories. I read 80+ stories, taking several hours, and gained 30 comments from the venture (half my comments are my responses).

Crucially, I do not promote other writers' work on Tumblr in the hopes of them reading or boosting mine. This is the #1 tip I see thrown around that I viscerally disagree with. While, again, I am grateful for engagement with my work regardless of the context, I do not want people suffering through my work in the hopes that I will promote them. I work a full-time job, and my reading calendar is perpetually overbooked, including with work by my absolute best of friends. Even if it wasn't, I think it would be quite insulting if I were posting works in the hopes that someone would choke it down like medicine. I post what I think is good so that people can read and enjoy it. If you are not enjoying it, I do not want you to feel as though you have to read it. My aim is to give to others what my favorite authors have given me, which is most certainly not A Bad Time Spent Being Dishonest In The Hopes Of Getting Something Back. You have better things to do with your time. Please be honest.

CONCLUSION

Realistically, the readers I have, I gained through being a published author for five years promoting my behind off on Tumblr, the least forgiving social media for promotion. People like it when you have a book they can buy, especially if it has Goodreads reviews that make it look like you have been vetted for them. Many people who follow me have read only Something's Not Right and nothing else. (Many people who follow me have read everything but Something's Not Right.) I have posted dozens of pieces on Tumblr and Wattpad (and AO3). I gained a small number of readers writing and posting fanfiction for the Locked Tomb Tri(?)logy, even though I marketed it absolutely terribly.

Just keep writing. Keep writing, keep posting, and keep making sure everyone who follows you knows you write. And keep writing because you want to. There's no better advice than that.

[punkeropercyjackson]

It's finally here!!!

Graphic design is my passion LMFAO but as i said i would do a while back,i've created a masterpost of all the Jason Todd content that's worth your time!This is rather long but he's existed since 1983 so!!

Base edit is my little sister @mayameanderings and tagging @coffeemilkcatz and @nanaonmars since they said yes when i asked if they wanted me to!Let's dive in then!

Batman 408-426,Detective comics 568-582,Superman annual 11,New Teen Titans 18-31,Blue Devil 19,Action comics 556 and 594,Batman Annuals 10-12 and Batman(The cult)for pre-reboot Robin!Jason my beloved

Nightwing Year One 101-106,New Teen Titans 55,Nightwing 10(1997)and Legends of the Dark Knight 100 for Dick and Jason siblinghood,Gotham Knights 34 for the short story of him and Alfred and Detective comics 790 for Bruce telling Cass about him as it takes place on Jason's birthday

Lost Days aka the Red Hood prologue

Under The Red Hood(2010)-The original comic is good in it's own right but the movie is leagues better written(Rare comic book adaption exception lmao)

Robin 177 and 182-183 for the actual Tim and Jason beef instead of 'replacement' and 'enemy to caretaker' bs

Azreal:Death's Dark Knight 3(Can't give commentary on this one since i don't know Azreal like that,sorry)

Red Hood and The Outlaws(2016).Unlike the Utrh comic vs the Utrh movie,the original Rhato has nothing positive like the reboot

Not TECHNICALLY Jason BUT Duke is his favorite brother and Stephanie's the only Batfam girl he's truly close to so you should also stan them since he'd want you to /lh

Red Hood:Outlaw for the confirmation that Red Hood loves black women from infinity to infinityyyyy(meaning his love interest Dana Harlowe is introduced and featured as an mc in this run)

Urban Legends 1-6 for his return to the Batfam-Messy tbh but i do enjoy parts of it!

Task Force Z for him and Stephanie being a vigilante team and it has a prelude,that being Detective comics 1041-1043

Unkillables and Joker:The Man Who Stopped Laughing for Jayrose goodies and more of the above

Gotham War if you feel like turning off your brain to look at good art and laugh at dogshit writing

Red Hood:The Hill is his current run and when our queen Dana comes home from comics limbo!!!

The following is a misc list that's not required to include in your Jason knowledge but HIGHLY recommended you do just for fun!

Tiny Titans 23,29,33,39,45 and 47,Bombshells 46,60 and 62,Bombshells United 18-24,Lego Batman:Family Matters,A Death In The Family 2020,Batman:The Adventures Continue,Batman/Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 5-6,The Doom That Came to Gotham 2023 and The Teen Titans Go episode 'The Best Robin'(Pre-Reboot Robin Jason rights!!!).Also look up 'Nobody cares about Tim Drake' if you don't know what that is,you'll love it

Jason also appears in the Lego DC Super Villains games that i highly recommend as well especially because my girlfriend is a mega fan of it and i don't know much about Lego Batman 3:Beyond Gotham but please avoid the aformentioned original Rhato,Red Hood:Outlaws and the Gotham Knights game as they feature extremely problematic writing not limited to but including racialized misogyny and ableism and do disservice to Jason himself anyway so you wouldn't want to consume them to begin with if you want to like him.I have mixed feelings on the Arkham Knight and Injustice games series' but they are objectively fairly good so i wouldn't say no to giving them a shot to see if you like them

And for the finale we have Wayne Family Adventures-Definitely a good read but to be totally honest it does Duke DIRTY and it sucks so much of DC to have marketed as his series to not only not follow through at all and make it an ensemble cast instead but ALSO deprive him of his actual characterization and story to make him a demure weak black boy stereotype.I won't judge you at all for liking it if you decided to read it or have already but kindly keep this in mind and consider joining me and my mutuals in our rewrite of it to give our Signal of Hope and Chaos the writing he deserves or at least support us through likes and reblogs!Happy Jason readings and have a good day💕

[emptymasks]

so @mangledpuppet made this post asking if this was drew sarich in 'tanz der vampire'

and i'm here to say yes it is and i have videos! i wanted to add this as a reblog but you can't upload videos in a reblog of someone elses' post so i hope making a new post is okay!

it's from the 2009 vienna revival. he took over the role from thomas borchert before that production ended in 2010. as someone else said in the replies of the original post, they never ended up having him fly in the actual production as far as i'm aware. i've never seen any photos of videos of thomas borchert flying so i don't know if they tried this with thomas and didn't follow through and then tried again with drew and didn't follow through. or if they introduced this idea for drew and then didn't end up including it.

here's a trailer for the 2010 revival once drew took over the role, there's a couple shots of him flying in this

can't post more than one video in a post anymore turns out so here's a link to where you can watch the trailer: vk.com/video-9610195_159404875

but better than that, there's a behind the scenes video of drew learning to fly (which i found some years ago on the 'tanz der vampire 'tanz der vampire (wien)' facebook page, they posted it in 2011.

i don't know why this screenshot in particular is so funny to me, it's like he's descending to greet the people

given the outfit is what he wears in the finale (of the kentaur re-staged productions) and the backdrop seems to be the outdoor scene where alfred and sarah are before the final number i wonder if krolock would have flown right before the start of the final number?

here's concept art of the wings:

and i'm sure i have this trailer somewhere but it's late and i couldn't find it but i do have a gif of it

there he goesss.

i hope this was interesting and not annoying to tag you in

[justmystyles]

All or Nothing

read my other work here!

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

word count: 2.5k

summary: you find a new way to tease Harry during a tour visit, and stumble upon a new way to drive him crazy.

warnings: smut, NSFW, if you're under 18 just don't.

a/n: @manrocket-mo sent me this video and asked me to write what he could possibly be reacting to. this is what I came up with. i don't know if it's really what you were looking for, and it kind of snowballed into something else, but i hope you enjoy it! thank you for thinking of me to write this, and i'm sorry it took me so long to get it finished.

i kind of envision this as part of the NYIML universe, so i guess you could say this is a one shot off of that series.

tags: @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

“I’m going to go change, wanna go pick some music? My laptop should still be connected to the speakers.” You tell Harry as you hang your coat up and slide off your shoes.

Harry looks at you in shock. “You’re actually giving me unsupervised access to your music collection?” 

You had always been protective over your music collection, claiming you had a long list of guilty pleasures. Harry wanted desperately to know everything about you, including all of the music you enjoyed. He had gotten bits and pieces out of you, but he knew you were still holding back, so allowing him to go through your music library was a huge step in your relationship. 

You looked at him and shrugged with a soft smile. “I trust you, and I know you’re not going to judge me.” 

Harry stepped up to you, cupping your face in his hands and pulling you in for a kiss. “I would never. I know that this is a big step for you, and it means the world to me that you trust me.” He kisses you once more. “I love you.” 

You giggle against his lips. “I love you too, weirdo.” You moved into the bedroom to put on some sweats, and Harry picked up your laptop from the coffee table, taking a seat on the couch.

“A whole playlist of boy band music?!” You hear Harry exclaim from the other room. “I knew you were holding out on me!” You giggled to yourself, waiting for the inevitable reaction. “What the fuck?!” 

You saunter out to the living room and take a seat beside Harry, tucking your legs underneath you. “Something wrong, babe?” You kiss him on the cheek, knowing exactly what was wrong. 

“You have an entire playlist of boy band music, like several hours of music, and there isn’t even a single One Direction song.” 

“H, I told you, I never followed your band.” You try to wrap your arm around him but he dodges out of your grasp. You chuckle at his dramatic display. 

“But you’ve heard the songs now, you didn’t think a single one of them was worthy of your playlist?” You shrug in response as he scrolls through the songs. “O-TOWN? O-Town is on here but not One Direction?” 

At the mention of the early 2000’s group, you get a mischievous glint in your eye. “Oh yeah, O-Town is great! Best boy band to ever be assembled on a television show!” 

He arched a brow in your direction, knowing exactly what you were doing. “Excuse me?” 

Giving Harry a hard time is one of your favorite things to do. You know he’s just being dramatic for fun, if you were genuinely hurting his feelings, you would stop and add the entire One Direction discography to that playlist. But teasing was one of your shared love languages, it’s why your relationship worked so well. 

“Yeah, they’re awesome. And lyrical geniuses too!” You continue. 

“Did they even write their own songs?” He asked incredulously. 

“No,” Harry’s eyes went wide, throwing his hands in the air. “But they sang the shit out of those songs. It’s like a time capsule for late nineties early two thousands slang. Not to mention the boner references, and a whole ass song about wet dreams.” 

Harry throws his head back, sinking further into the couch. “Ugh… maybe you were right to keep your music to yourself.” He teases. 

You chuckle as you shift on the couch, moving to straddle his lap. “They have this one song,” you begin as you trail kisses across his jaw and down his neck. “It’s about a girl and she’s beautiful, like they think she’s soooo beautiful, but she’s shy. She has no idea how beautiful she is. She keeps blushing, and looking down, and they just want to tell her how beautiful she is. It’s quite lovely.” 

You feel Harry’s chest shake in laughter, causing you to smirk against his skin. “Now you’re just making shit up.” 

“Nope, I’m dead ass.” You assure him. “Want me to play it?” You lean back, looking in his eyes with a mischievous glint. “We could make out while we listen.” 

“No to the song,” He states firmly. “But I will take you up on making out.” He runs his hands up your thighs as he leans forward, capturing your lips. 

A few weeks later, you’re back on the road with Harry. You hadn’t brought up O-Town again, but that didn’t mean you’d forgotten about that night, and you had a special surprise planned for him. As usual, throughout the show Harry’s eyes would travel to you in the VIP area, in those moments, the thousands of fans would seemingly disappear and it was just Harry, pouring his heart out to you. 

You had been so lost in his performance that you had almost forgotten about the little surprise you had planned for him. As he starts hitting the final notes of Sign of the Times, you catch his eye winking suggestively to maintain his attention. He gives you a curious look as you grab the hem of your sweatshirt and begin to pull it over your head. 

Once you were able to see him again, you noticed the smirk on his face as he studied the t-shirt you had been hiding all day. It was a black shirt with five young men doing their best blue steel to the camera ‘O-Town’ scrawled above their heads. He chuckled some more, as he completed the song. 

When it was over, he was saying his goodbyes and waving to the crowd, locking eyes with you once again as you ran your hands through your hair, lifting it over your shoulders and turning around to display the back of the shirt, which had two more pictures of the group, as well as a list of cities listed at the bottom. You turned to look over your shoulder, immediately catching his cheeky smirk. 

He wagged his finger at you playfully. “You bad girl,” he spoke into the microphone as his finger continued to shake in your direction. You felt an exciting chill run through you at his words, looking forward to what the rest of your evening held.

You knocked gently on Harry’s dressing room door, he quickly called for you to enter. He greeted you with his arms crossed over his chest and his brow arched. 

“Great show babe!” You said cheerfully, skipping up to him and pecking his pursed lips. “Cheer up, grumpy Gus!” 

He continued to stare, and you could tell he was willing himself not to grin at you. “You,” he paused, taking a deep breath. You weren’t sure if it was for dramatic effect, or to stop himself from laughing. “Dared to come to my show wearing another band’s merch?” 

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips. “Such a drama queen,” you bump your shoulder against his. “Come on, go change so we can go back to the hotel.” 

“Are you going to change too?” He deadpanned. 

You couldn’t help the smirk that took over, knowing what you had in store for him. “As soon as we get back. Promise.” He narrowed his eyes at you and moved into the bathroom to change.  

Despite his feigned annoyance, you spent the entire ride back to the hotel in Harry’s arms as he planted sporadic kisses on the top of your head. You held on to his free hand, playing with the rings that still adorned his fingers. Not much was said, your rides to the hotel were typically quiet. Harry liked to use that time to unwind from the chaos of being on stage. 

When you arrived back at the hotel, Harry dropped his bag at the door and plopped himself onto the couch. You followed him, leaning down to kiss him on the cheek. “I’m going to go change into something a little more comfortable.” 

“Good,” he grunted, making you chuckle. 

“Meet me in bed?” He nodded and you moved into the bathroom. 

Once you had done your nightly skincare routine, and changed your clothes, you opened the bathroom door, leaning against the frame waiting for Harry to look up from his phone. He didn’t seem in any hurry to do so, so you cleared your throat to get his attention. 

He looked up, his eyes going wide and phone dropping to his lap when he saw you. You had changed into another tour shirt, one of his. It was a gray t-shirt, just barely covering your panties. His name, and a photo of him onstage across your chest.

“Better?” You asked with an arched brow. 

He didn’t say a word as he stood from the bed and stalked toward you, his eyes darkening. A knot began to form in your stomach the closer he got. When he reached you, his lips dropped to yours in a dizzying kiss. You moaned into his mouth, and his hands moved to your hips, grabbing you gruffly and turning you to lead you toward the bed. 

Your knees hit the mattress and Harry shoved you back, immediately coming over you and trailing his lips across your jaw, taking your earlobe between his teeth and tugging, causing you to moan.

“Harry,” you gasped. 

He growled in your ear, his hands traveling down your body. “I don’t think you’ve ever looked sexier.” His hands reached your panties and tore them off of your body. “I don’t know why you bothered with those though.” 

You giggled at his desperation, but were quickly silenced when he ran a finger through your folds. Your breath hitched, and your back arched. 

“Already dripping for me, such a good girl.” 

“Harry, please.” You begged. 

Harry looked at you with mischief in his eyes. “You show up to my show wearing that shirt, and you think you should be rewarded?” 

“But… but… I…” You stutter as he continues to tease you with his fingers. “I have this one now.” 

“Mmm… that you do,” he hummed, slowly inserting a finger. “And you’re going to keep it on.” 

You were momentarily taken out of your lust fueled daze by his words. “Keep it on?” You looked at him curiously. 

Harry nodded before kissing you again. “Mmhmm,” he confirmed. “I want to see my name plastered across those perfect tits while I fuck you.” 

You let out a soft whimper, if you had known wearing his merch would set him off like this, you would have done it a long time ago. He adds a second finger, and moves his thumb to circle your clit. His lips latched onto your neck, marking you with biting kisses. 

“I’m… I’m close.” You moaned, grinding your hips against his hand. 

“Let go angel, want it all over my fingers.” He spoke against your skin. 

With one final pump of his hand, your back arched and Harry’s name fell from your lips in a high pitched whine. He worked you through your first release, finally slowing to a stop. He removed his fingers and brought them to his mouth, keeping eye contact with you as he licked them clean. He hummed in satisfaction as he removed them, leaning down to kiss you deeply. 

“Are you ready to take all of me?” He asked, his voice low and raspy as he lowered his underwear, his hard length springing free. 

“Yes Harry, I need you.” You pleaded, lifting your hips in an attempt for some friction. 

He chuckled at your desperation, lining himself up with your entrance and pumping his hard cock a few times before driving into you in one swift motion. Pausing for a moment, allowing you to adjust as he intertwined your fingers and brought your joined hands over your head. 

You rolled your hips, signaling that you were ready and Harry pulled out to the tip, and slamming back into you. He set a rough and relentless pace, hitting that spot with each thrust. The room was filled with the sounds of your grunts, and skin slapping against skin.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he groaned, he unlinked your hands, using one of his to hold himself over you as the other cupped your cheek. “I can’t believe you’re all mine.” 

“Only yours, Harry. Always.” You said, your voice wavering slightly. 

You watched as his eyes flitted from your face, to the shirt that still covered your upper body. He felt your walls begin to flutter around him and he knew you were close. “That’s it baby, come all over my cock. I need it.” His thrusts became erratic as he approached his own release. 

Your hands gripped Harry’s biceps, your nails digging into the skin as you fell over the edge, Harry’s name falling off your lips in a series of moans as you coated his cock. 

“That’s it, such a good gi… fuck.” He groaned as he reached his climax. 

He collapsed on top of you, burying his face in your neck as you came down from your high. Eventually, he removed himself from you and rolled onto his back, pulling you to his side. 

“So,” you broke the silence in the room. “What I got from that is that I don’t need to buy fancy lingerie, just need shirts with your face on them.”

You felt his chest shake with laughter. “Don’t kink shame me.” 

“No shame,” you said defensively. “Just observing.” You placed a series of light kisses on his chest. 

***

A few weeks later, Harry was still on the road and you had returned home. You were sitting in your living room watching television when there was a knock at the door. You answered it to find a delivery man with a large package. You accepted it happily and tore it open as soon as the door was shut. 

There was a note, your name written on the front. You smiled, instantly knowing who it was from. You opened it and read the hand-written message. 

One of everything. It’s good to have options.

-H

P.S. Send pictures of them all. ;)

You ripped open the tissue paper and started removing the contents. Laughing to yourself when you realized that he had sent you every piece of merch he currently had. You laid them out on the living room floor, taking a picture that included each piece and texting it to Harry with the caption, ‘just like you asked’. The response came within seconds. 

That’s not what I meant, and you know it. 

You did know it, but you couldn’t help but tease him a little. You brought everything into the bedroom, and put them on one by one, taking pictures of yourself posing in various positions. Once you had taken all the photos, you created a new shared album in your phone, naming it ‘Spank Bank’ and inviting Harry to it. Another, nearly immediate response. 

That’s more like it. 

[alkaline-wtr]

MY COD RECOMMENDATIONS

** Please feel free to message me if you would like me NOT to add your works or tag you in this list.

SERIES:

"He Knows" by @sunonyoreface Ghost x fem!reader, angst, smut included,(ongoing)

** OBSESSED with this one. It's so damn interesting and beautifully written.

"Body and Soul" by @qwimchi gunslinger!Ghost x virgin!reader, wild west au, angst, smut included, religious!reader,(ongoing)

** First chapter is sooo long but, I was INVESTED!

ONE SHOTS/IMAGINES:

** My listed tags are only meant to give a quick idea of what are in the recommended works, I have left the full tag lists and descriptions to the actual posts.

SFW: "One Cot" by @sunonyoreface Ghost x captured!reader, softboy!Ghost, fluff, imagine

"Coloring Inside the Lines" by @obsolescent Ghost x fem!reader, spoiled!reader, fluff, imagine

"The Necessity of Saints" by @obsolescent Ghost x fem!reader, singlemom!reader, fluff, imagine

Untitled by @casiiaGhost x gn!reader, suggestive but not smut, shot gunning cig, imagine

Untitled by @rileyslibrary Ghost x fem!reader, Ghost and reader are married, reader has amnesia, fluff, imagine

** Love, love, LOVE this!!!

NSFW: Untitled by @oleworldblues Ghost x Price x fem!reader, smut, threesome, pwp, imagine

"XXL" by @poisonedprose Ghost x fem!reader, smut, pwp, size kink, imagine

"Bite Your Pillow" by @imperihoe-writes possessive!Konig x fem!reader, smut, phone sex, LDR, praise kink, imagine

HEAD-CANNONS:

SFW: Ghost x male!reader by @marksbear Ghost x male!reader, tattooartist!reader, fluff, head-cannon Gen-z!reader by @av01d3d Ghost x gen-z!reader, TW reader jokes about suicide, gn!reader, fluff, silly, head-cannon Soap x 141 by @forestshadow-wolf Soap x 141, silly, Soap shenanigans, head-cannon pumpkin!Ghost head-cannon by @cod-dump Ghost wears a pumpkin mask for Halloween, silly, head-cannon NSFW: jealous!Konig by @roxy-writes Konig x reader, jealous!Konig, smut, head-cannon gymrat!Ghost by @sugarbbgrl Ghost x fem!reader, gymrat!Ghost, smut, head-cannon sub!Soap x male!reader by @lieutnt Soap x male!reader, sub!Soap x dom!reader smut, head-cannon Ghost head-cannon by @rowarn Ghost x fem!reader, reader wakes up Ghost, smut, head-cannon

OTHER:

** Just other silly posts (incorrect quotes Comics, other tiny pieces) I found worthy of recommending but don't quite fit the categories.

Soap x reader by @av01d3d 141 x reader by @warenai Price quote by @cod-dump Incorrect COD quotes by @skylarsblue SoapGhost quote by @warenai gn!reader by @spidergutz-writes Ghost quote by @forestshadow-wolf 141 quotes by @that-one-country-emo Ghost x Gaz quote by @cod-dump WZ Niki x reader by @that-one-country-emo Ghost x nurse!reader by @warenai SoapGhost quote by @cod-dump teen!Ghost quote by @cod-dump SoapGhost quote by @cod-dump Soap quote by @cod-dump Ghost x Gaz quote by @cod-dump Soap quote by @cod-dump Ghost quote by @cod-dump Ghost x Price quote by @cod-dump Soap quote by @warenai Ghost quote by @cod-dump SoapGhost quote by @cod-dump Laswell x Price quote by @cod-dump Gaz x Reader quote by @warenai

** I will be checking this list periodically for deleted posts and/or inactive blogs.

Things I've Written

[paddockbunny]

Don’t Blame Me - Part 2

Summary : You had it bad. You had it so damn bad for a man that was not your boyfriend. And when you arrive in Brazil and find out all the drivers were staying in the same hotel…what happens when it’s suddenly all out there to you, on a plate? Rating : 18+ Pairing : Daniel Ricciardo x Reader ft Max Verstappen Word Count : Multi-part imagine - I have zero idea how long this will be but this part is just shy of 3,000 words Trigger Warnings : 18+, NSFW, adult language, fantasising having sex with someone who isn’t your boyfriend, slight cheating but not really, no strong warnings but it’s not intended for minors. And I know Max isn’t everyone’s thing so Max Verstappen warning too Images : curated from Pintrest Authors Note : there are flashbacks included in the following parts so will be denoted by *** then the time frame the next bit has taken place in x

As you exited the car you smoothed out your skirt and pulled your pass from your bag. You hadn’t planned on attending practice today but when Max shot you some puppy dog eyes you caved. The plan - which you had made in your head - was to get out some of the sexual frustration you were feeling because of Daniel (just from the sheer fact he existed) in the gym and then go to the spa and have someone work out all the knots and kinks in your muscles. But Max pouted and he knew he could win you over with his cute little pouty face. You cancelled your plans for him. You could have been more annoyed by it if he didn’t look so damn good today. And this was the worst part about this weird Daniel fantasy situation. You still very much fancied your boyfriend and you were very much in love with him. You just wished you could know what Daniel felt like and how it would feel to be fucked by him.

Max waited at his side of the car for you with his hand out for you to take. He knew you got nervous around crowds and fans here tended to get a little over zealous. There was nothing that Max wanted you to know more than the fact he was protective of you and wanted to feel safe with him. As you walked hand in hand through the security gates and into the paddock you were chased almost immediately by some fans and camera men. Max held on to you tightly. Not once letting go of your hand. He took some photos with fans from the side but kept up a quick steady pace so neither of you would get swamped.

The Red Bull garage was already a buzz with loud booming music by the time you arrived. In fact, everywhere was awash with excitement and anticipation. The weekend was set to be a thrilling one and as you both walked into RB hospitality you were suddenly very thankful that you had tagged along after all.

After a casual little sit down with Christian and Helmut (which you offered to leave for but they both motioned for you to stay) Max left to go get into his fireproofs and race suit while you remained at hospitality. You were fetching a coffee before heading over to wish him luck in FP1 like you always did when two of the PR girls saddles up beside you. The first race you ever came to Max had asked them to look after you and make sure nothing happened to you. Initially you didn’t want to be a fuss and pull them away from their duties but you actually got along really well and became fast friends. The memory of what you felt the week of your first race flooded back to you. The feeling of sheer panic that you would stick out like a sore thumb for not having a single clue to anyone was or what exactly happened during a race weekend. You tried to watch a few videos on YouTube to work out the basics but you couldn’t follow the rules, what tactics were, overcuts and undercuts and all the sheer amount of people each team needed. You want to bombard Max with questions about his job because you were worried he would get frustrated when he tried to explain it so you asked the girls that worked with the team. The fact they took you “under their wing” sort of say, meant the world to you. It was nice you had made friendships for yourself within the team, something which was so important to Max. Then naturally as you showed up more and more you began to get to know some of the other drivers girlfriends and (even though your shyness kept you reserved) you would chat to them too. You didn’t have anxiety over attending a GP anymore in that sense but because you knew it was inevitable you would see Daniel you were constantly on edge and full of jitters. No more so that right in that particular moment because as if on cue (and the Gods wanted to play a cruel trick on you) he came sauntering past. His race suit pulled down around his waist. Giving you the moment to enjoy taking in his impressive physic. His body was different to Max’s. Leaner. Less broad but none the less attractive. The white fireproofs did little to hide his well formed taunt ab’s underneath. Your mouth watered a little.

Then he went and did it. Wether he sensed you were staring at him or he actually knew you were you couldn’t be sure but he turned his head to look at you. His eyes locked with yours. Those two deep dark pools of coffee coloured orbs were staring right at you. For a brief moment a tiny smile danced upon your lips as you wondered if he liked being stared at or if he liked YOU staring at him. His head tilted slightly backward in a “hey” motion and you knew there was no way you weren’t blushing. Swallowing you felt how quick your heart was going in your chest as you tried to calm your racing mind. This was all his fault - your obsession with him. He started it all. He ignited the flame.

****

April ‘23

Azerbaijan

Fish out of water. That’s exactly what you were. Completely out of your element. It was your first time at a Grand Prix let alone in right there amongst all the action. You didn’t know anyone apart from Max and he was ridiculously busy and the videos you had watched online didn’t tell you what to do when you had VIP credentials dangling from your neck. It was funny to even look down at them in the first place. VIP at a Formula One race. Who would have thought? Certainly not you seeing as you had absolutely zero idea about any of it before you met Max. You giggled to yourself as you remembered the night you first met and asked him what he did for a job. Initially he looked stumped before he smugly replied with “I’m a driver” and, almost pulling the rug from under him you floored him as you quickly responded with; “like an Uber driver?” He recalled that it was the best response he could ever thought of and stated that was the moment he knew he was in trouble, he had fallen for you the very first night you met.

The thought of him swirled around as you decided to venture across the way and get yourself a coffee from hospitality. You walked into brilliant beautiful sunshine and utter chaos. There were people everywhere. Team members in different coloured outfits. Paddock (as you found out it was called) guests. Photographers. TV cameras and their crews everywhere. It was mental. You weren’t expecting this at all. You never realised it was such a big deal. You began to walk over toward the suite Max told you that you could help yourself to whatever you wanted in while he was gone. Attempting to dodge people as they seemed to walk en mass from left to right and right to left. All muddling in together. You were almost there. You had almost made it when BAM! Your side hit something rock hard. Whipping your head round you came face to face with a man wearing a similar outfit to Max’s.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” It must be someone important and you were freaking out. But as much as you were stressing you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his. It was like he was hypnotising you. They were so round, full of life and seemed to bore right down deep into your soul. “No problem,” he spoke with an accent “are you lost? Where are you trying to go?” Australian. Distinctly Australian. You watched as his lips parted and he smiled broadly at you. Each one of his dazzling white pearly teeth on full display in the largest smile you had ever seen. “Uh, just here actually, just grabbing a coffee.” Then it dawned on you that he must have been a bit of a big deal because there were a whole bunch of people beginning to crowd around you with caps and shirts with pens ready to thrust in front of him, just like Max had. He must have been a driver too. You glanced away but you saw him take you in. His eyes flickering down across your body - and your VIP lanyard. God, he was hot. Sure you had a boyfriend, a new relationship, but you could still admire a guy couldn’t you? Max wouldn’t care if you thought one of his fellow drivers was absolutely drop dead gorgeous. “Enjoy the rest of your day.” He said with a wink and as stupid and idiotic as it sounded, your heart skipped a literal beat. Fuck. He winked at you! He checked you out! If you were single you would have been done for.

You hadn’t quite expected to have enjoyed yourself so much during qualifying. Watching the timings and willing your man on was such a thrill. You were still learning about what the technical side of things were but you knew that Max being P2 out of 20 drivers was excellent. When he eventually came back to the garage you were still buzzing with excitement. If this was what it was like watching a race you were going to be buzzing. Max sought you out as soon as he finished talking to Helmut. His smile was broad and he kissed you before saying anything.

“That was amazing.” You couldn’t hold in your excitement any longer “It was ok, hopefully make it up tomorrow.” “Max,” you sighed, astonished “P2 is good. It great, phenomenal even.” He read how happy you were for him and how he had still done something amazing “I know my opinion counts for nothing because I don’t know what’s going on but…” he shook his head and stopped you immediately “You’re opinion mean everything to me.” If you could have swooned and melted into a puddle you would have. No guy had ever treated you like this before. As if you mattered so much to them. It was new to you that you didn’t feel disposable. Max’s words practically knocked the air right out of you because it was something you had always wanted to hear and an emotion you had always wanted to feel. “What happens now?” You ask as you gently caress his cheek. Max explained the next part of the day involved a few more press things and then he was free to leave. He offered for someone to take you back to the hotel so you didn’t have to wait on him but you swiftly refused. You didn’t mind waiting on him, in fact you wanted too.

It took a little over an hour til Max returned and was able to leave for the evening. You had been sitting in his drivers room, chilling, flicking through your phone when he arrived to collect you. As soon as he appeared you felt another rush of pride, amazement, love for him. While he collected his things you arose from the sofa and gently stepped in front of him, arms going around his neck.

“I didn’t really understand what you did, all of this.” Your hands motioned toward the room but you meant the whole racing thing. Max’s eyes were staring right at you as he continued smiling. You loved his icy teal blue eyes and the way they watched you so intently when you were talking to him. He always gave you his full attention. “But I do now and well, I’m a big fan.” You smiled broadly. “Well I better get you some of my merch to wear then.” He burst out laughing and you did too but then he kissed you and the moment went from being sweet to passionate. If someone hadn’t come along and knocked on the door to tell him the car was waiting you were sure you would have been bent over the massage table as he showed you what your words meant to him. But they did and you both gathered your things to go.

The pair of you were exiting the paddock the same way as you had entered this morning. Hand in hand. It had been a phenomenal day and you were thoroughly excited for the actual race and to cheer on your man. You almost came right out with it and tell him how you were ready to scream for him tomorrow but Max beat you to it by implying the little moment in his drivers room wasn’t enough and he couldn’t wait to get you back to the hotel. It made your stomach flip that you finally had a boyfriend that seemed as obsessed with you as you were with them. And the sex with Max was good. Great even. And what’s more it was frequent. It was all the time and it made you feel like the most desirable woman alive. As the thought of your boyfriend tearing off your clothes with burning hunger entered your head you heard Max’s name being called. You figured it must have been a fan wanting a picture or an autograph but when you turned your head the man saddled up on your left side. It was the same guy you had bumped into earlier before qualifying. His deep intense eyes once again linked on to yours making you feel like the air was being sucked out of your lungs.

“Did you hear that the two Haas’ have been disqualified for tomorrow? It’s just come in just now.” The man was speaking to Max but still looking at you. You could feel his eyes taking you in again. Max replied something about the floor under the car and something else about it being obvious. You wondered what he meant and made a mental note to ask him later. Then you accidentally squeezed his hand a little. You hadn’t intended too and did it completely without realising to which Max seemed to pick up on and take as a hint. “Sorry,” Max started as he slowed walking. He made introductions. Daniel. The hot Australian man you had met earlier and who had now flanked your side was called Daniel. That was all you heard. You zoned out before you could hear Max introduce you as his girlfriend or Daniel as his former team mate and friend. “We met earlier…” Daniel recalled as his hand stretched out toward you “You were getting coffee.” You thought it was amazing that he could recall you when there were so many people earlier in the paddock. He must have been introduced and paraded in front of a lot of people just like Max had been. You probably insulted him by banging into him. By not watching where you were walking. “Oh yeah,” you tried to play it cool but you were sure your hand felt like it was burning as it slid into his “I’m so sorry about not watching where I was going.” You apologised again because you didn't want him to think you were rude. With his hand still gripping yours you glanced at Max and informed him that you accidentally walked into him, Daniel, when you were trying to make it through the hectic, crowded paddock to get to hospitality for a coffee. “I didn’t realise you were,” He seemed to pause “Max’s girlfriend.” His hand left yours in that moment and you thought you saw a small whisper of a frown appear on his otherwise smooth forehead. The words seemed more staccato as they left his lips - his full, pouty, kissable lips. And there was no reason to feel deflated but right then you did. It was weird. “Lucky me, right?” Max’s loud laugh interrupted the bizarre staring contest you had been locked in with this fellow racing driver. A shiver almost cast down upon your body as you looked at him. You couldn’t even describe what it was you were feeling but you were feeling something.

“Yeah.” You heard the murmured word leave Daniel’s mouth under his breath but his eyes dropped (finally) from yours and he looked around him “Listen mate, I’ve got to go…” It sounded like an excuse. He looked like he was heading in the same direction as the pair of you were. Max reached past you and gave Daniel’s knuckles a grazing tap as he said he would see him tomorrow, race day. “It was nice meeting you.” You piped up because you weren’t sure he would acknowledge you again. Guys did that, they didn’t always pay attention to the girlfriends. But you didn’t want to seem rude - you had already been when you banged into him earlier. “Nice to meet you too.” Daniel replied with nothing but a fleeting glance. It irked you because up until the moment that Max had explained who you were he had been staring at you so intently you felt like his next meal. He then seemed to hurry away in a different direction as you and Max approached the security gate before the cars. For a first introduction it you couldn’t be confident it had gone well and for some strange reason you felt deflated. You wanted Max’s friends and colleagues to like you, it was important to you that they did. It was important to you that Daniel liked you.

****

“God he’s so hot.” Chrissy, one of your befriended PR girls said from beside you. You knew she was referring to Daniel because you had just been thinking the same thing. “If he ends up coming back to Red Bull, then Christ, it’s going to be a tough job for whoever has to look after him.” Daisy agreed from the other side of you. It was actually nice that you weren’t alone in your thoughts about him but you felt a little annoyed with how they were talking about him. You weren’t stupid. You knew it was because you were jealous. Jealous they had more of a chance with him than you did. “Ready? You’ll want to see Max, wish him luck.” Chrissy snapped you out of your daze.

“Max. Right.” The man you loved - but also the man that stood in the way from acting upon your lust for the man that set your mind ablaze with sexual fantasies.

Part 3 Here