#and he's finally able to admit to himself just how much of a shit he's been...and then he's able to admit a lot of other things too
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lisbonsteresa · 2 years ago
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you don't get how crazy i'm going over this
#like....LIKE?????#not even talking about the lisbon of it all (we have to though these things are intrinsically connected but we're holding off for now)#i'm so....proud? of this little fictional man?#was the setup a little silly? maybe (but i loved every SECOND of it i can't BELIEVE i actually got a big blowout and a lowest point-#realization AND a rush to the airport confession that's SO)#this payoff was so SO worth it for me#and honestly i don't think the setup was even THAT silly -- what did lisbon say in 4.24? he had to hit rock bottom and know it or something#that's this. hurting her like this is his rock bottom (see you can't ignore the lisbon of it all - which i LOVE)#even with all the crazy shitty things he's done up until now; especially to HER; it was to get red john; he had that to fall back on#(not that he really saw it as a fallback but it gave him something else to focus on/something to justify his methods)#but after red john (episode not person) he doesn't have that anymore and he's been floundering ESPECIALLY when it comes to her#this wasn't a con (*not an official con) this was him doing something shitty and her finally having had enough#and him realizing just how right she's been; she was right on the first plane this season and she was right at the blue bird#and he's finally able to admit to himself just how much of a shit he's been...and then he's able to admit a lot of other things too#that little bit of honestly led to so much more and it let him FINALLY say out loud what they both knew (as much as they ignored it#or talked around it or pushed it down) and it let him say it without pretenses or expectations; just because#he 'needed to get to this' and she 'deserved to hear it' and i'm usually kind of meh on 'i needed to say it/you needed to hear it'#but this one; this one i GET#and i'm not explaining myself well at all i'm delirious but the point is this is SO well done and it feels DESERVED for me i love it#tm
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thesassypadawan · 6 months ago
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Addicted (Stephen x FemReader)
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Summary: You love your sweet baby boy, but you know how much of a pretty little liar he can be. Especially when it comes to something he wants.
Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there sooo much of the smut. Mission, refusal to pull out, slight mommy kink, and… Stephen’s cute, big dick.
Notes: I would love to hear what all you, lovelies, think! If you would like to see more of Stephen! If so...I already have another idea in mind! ❤️
- It’s in the way he exhales; breathy, laced with the sweetest whimper. Just barely audible over the lovely, lewd sounds of Stephen’s clumsy thrusts.
- You can practically feel his impatience. See the look of dizzy, drunk pleasure on his angelic face. Clearly on the verge of his orgasm with the way his compact muscles tense…how his neck strains deliciously. “Good…feel so good…”
- Sweat gleams on his skin in the faint light. As well as the angry, red scratches you left on his biceps…chest. “Sucking me back in…clenching around me…”
- The scent of sex lays heavy in the air when he begins to twitch. His calloused hands grip your hips harder. Pace picks up, drives grow more erratic. While he sputters out… “S-shit. You’re g-going to make me…make m-me…”
- “P-pull out, baby,” you pant softly. Writhing beneath him, head tilted slightly to the side. Showing off all the adorable marks he left behind. “You need to p-pull out.”
- Strokes become uneven, sloppy. He shakes his head and something wild, defiant flashes in those blue eyes. “N-no. Please, m-mommy. I want to m-make a mess of this p-pretty pussy…”
- Instinctively you try to push him off, but his hold tightens. Pinning you to the bed, pressing you into it with his weight. “Coat these t-thighs; cover those s-swollen folds…”
- You know you shouldn’t. That you should be more forceful; attempt to fight back, put him in his place. Demand he releases on your stomach, like always. But he looks so sweet, so desperate…you can’t deny him.
- Legs wind, lock securely. Hands cling to his shoulders, pulling him close. Walls flutter while your lips ghost over the shell of his ear. “All right…just this one time though…”
- “T-thank you…thank y-you… I p-promise… Only…only…” Movements falter, stutter. Long fingers digging in, bruising you. As he buries his face into the side of your neck, hot breath and soft curls tickling your skin.
- “O-one…onnnce…” Slamming awkwardly, brutally. Strangled moan flies from his mouth and he cutely cums. His warm seed pumping you all full, making you…
- Wail out at the sudden load. Coil in your stomach finally snapping, sending you crashing over the edge. Crying out; gushing all over his cock, milking him for every drop. Head reeling in the best way possible, barely able to think…because it’s just too good. Not that you'll admit it.
- He babbles, whimpers. Tongue lapping, teeth nibbling gently. Continuing to pound and fuck you through his high. “Warm…s-so warm…” Until the last spurt paints your walls and he stills.
- Propping himself, he hovers above you. Chest heaving, face all flushed and splotchy. Glasses crooked and completely fogged up. “That…that was a-amazing.”
- Try as you might, you can't help but giggle at his adorably, pathetic state. Cupping his pink cheek, tapping it gently. “Glad you enjoyed yourself, but don't get used to it though. One time only…got it?”
- “Y-Yeah…” He mumbles, reluctantly pulling out. Gaze locked on, entranced from the way that creamy whiteness seeps from your core. “O-only once…”
- That something wild, defiant flashes in those blue eyes once more and you know… That by the end of the night you’ll have lost count of how many times he’s cummed inside you… That it’s too late to stop Stephen now… Now that he’s addicted…
- Oh, well… Maybe you'll get a cute baby or two out of this, out of your pretty little liar…
Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @wifeofasith, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen, @adorbzliz, @sythethecarrot, @divineani, @decaffeinatedunicorn, @fuckmyskywalker
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redflagshipwriter · 15 days ago
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Ghost Driver 2
masterpost
Batman, Danny reflected, was an irritatingly hard guy to find. Which was just plain silly! The dude had been in his apartment. He had seen the guy out in public by chance! It had been impossible for him to avoid Batman in a city of millions when that had been his number two goal! 
And yet every time Danny made it to a house fire or gunshot sound or the signal on top of the police station, the fucker was already gone. 
‘Can’t say shit about his work ethic,’ Danny had to admit. ‘He really keeps it moving. Why isn’t he having a break? He arrested Joker today and apparently met up with his estranged kid.’
He stopped in his tracks as that finally clicked into place. 
Jay was Batman’s kid. His estranged batling. 
“Weird,” Danny said, appreciative. Jay truly was a catch. He had a backstory! It was probably tragic, judging by the way that he was. 
Oh. He could probably like, fight and stuff. Danny mulled that over as he half heartedly drove towards the police station. Had Danny ever really dated someone who could fight? It would be nice to not be the protector. When one of them inevitably got kidnapped by a villain, Danny wanted to be it. He didn’t want to solve riddles or discover new powers. 
He indulged in a power fantasy for a while of being able to say, “oh no, save me!” and then just hanging around looking sexy and scared and shit. A goofy grin stole across his face. Teehee. He giggled. If he wasn’t trying to confirm proof of life he would be kicking his feet and blushing over the idea. 
Not that death would be, like, that much of a barrier. Jay was not going to peacefully move on to the other side. Jay was gonna be an undead motherfucker, Danny was calling it now. He had the spirit. 
He parked in a locked parking garage by going intangible through the wall and went fully ghost to fly the last stretch towards the police station. It was a little bit ridiculous to stake out for Batman, but this was the low he was resorting to. Ugh. Strategy. He had a strategy. Despicable. He had to, right? He had to.
‘If I do this, then he’s probably going to report the sighting to the GIW. I might have to transfer.’
Danny wallowed a bit in self pity about having a problem he couldn’t argue or punch his way out of. He stuck his hands in his armpits and sulked, hovering in the air above the main police station. Someone was hanging out on the roof. He squinted at them optimistically, but they were just smoking. He morosely did a few flips. The smoker went back inside, shutting the door with a sort of deliberate silence that implied they were not allowed to smoke on the roof.
Long minutes stretched out. Absolutely nothing happened.
While he was wallowing alone, he remembered to send his mom a thank you text and let her know Wulf had arrived safely. 
A car! Someone was pulling up to the police station!
Danny perked up before he remembered that Batman would not be coming to the station by car, and almost certainly not in a mauve minivan. 
The sun started to rise and Danny had to admit that it was not going to work out. He let out a little screech of frustration, hands in his hair. How was someone supposed to get a hold of Batman? He didn’t have a publicly listed phone number, Facecard, or… did he have a twooter account? Danny went to check.
He did. Batman had a verified twooter account. Danny stared at his screen for a minute, mouth slightly ajar. 
“I wasted so much time,” he realized. Then he switched to the account that Tucker had made for Phantom, took a selfie of himself floating over the police station, and tagged Batman in it. He pursed his lips and considered what to say for a minute. 
“I just wanna talk. HMU dude.” 
That was perfect. He hit send twoot. 
His mentions exploded before he could get his phone into his pocket. Danny startled so badly that he dropped it onto the police station rooftop. He shrieked and dive bombed like a seagull, desperately trying to snatch his phone out of midair. 
He saved it at the last moment, pulling up sharply to avoid dipping inside the police station. That would be awkward. Danny huffed a sigh of relief and glanced at the current landing notification.
‘This guy for real??’
Yeah, obviously, Danny responded. He looked at the next twoot that caught his eye.
‘Lmao this fucker thinks he can get an appointment with the batMAN’
Danny rolled his eyes and responded,
Get good, loser. He wants to see me. 
That did set off a flurry of speculation that he was fucking the Batman. Hmm. Danny frowned at his phone. Maybe he should talk less. 
Instead of doing that, Danny hunched over and started committing twooter violence, responding to people on indignant impulse. 
Someone cleared their throat. 
“A minute,” Danny said distractedly. He was holding his phone nearly up to his face and typing furiously about how @acovadobinch147 could get on his level if they only changed everything about their sour ass attitude. 
“Is this really the time?” A man’s voice asked.
Danny startled, elbows flying up. He kept his grip on his phone this time. He looked down. 
There was a cop on the roof. A cop with a seriously unimpressed expression, under eye bags big enough to have to check at luggage, and a death grip on a paper cup of coffee. 
“I’m not doing anything,” Danny said reflexively. He hid his hands behind his back. No. That’s suspicious. He took them out and put them in his pockets. Nailed it. 
“Ahuh.” The man took a sip of what looked like black coffee. “You might be loitering, son.” 
“The property line doesn’t include airspace,” he said promptly. 
The cop’s mouth twitched up slightly. It was hard to see under his mustache. “Might be. Aside from that, would you happen to know anything about the disappearance of the Joker from his cell?”
Danny blinked at him. “You know about that already?” He wondered. He shoved his hands further in his pockets and shrugged. “Yeah, he was really creepy and shit. I sent him to the Infinite Realms.” At the blank stare that garnered, he added, “the ghost zone? The lands of the dead. The unending stretch-“ 
“I got it, son.” The cop looked shell shocked. He stood perfectly still for a moment. Then he drained his entire coffee cup, crushed the paper cup and stuffed it in his pocket, and started digging in his vest pocket. “Don’t tell,” he said vaguely, and extracted a cigarette. 
Danny drifted a little further away. “Keep that downwind,” he warned. “My dad would lose his mind if I came home smelling like tobacco.” The odds of Jack Fenton showing up unexpectedly for bonding time were low, but they were never zero.
The cop snorted. “Sure thing.” He shuffled to the side a few steps and lit up. “So, uh, you want to meet the Batman to tell him you… to tell him what you did to the joker? He won’t thank you for it,” he warned. 
“No.” Danny blew a raspberry. “I don’t care about his opinion. I wanna know where my boyfriend is. Almost boyfriend. Well, we really just met, but I wanna see where it’s going, you know?” 
“…and you think that Batman knows?” 
Danny nodded furiously. “He was the last one who saw him, aside from Joker, and the unfunny dude didn’t know jack shit,” he complained. He bobbed in the air as he crossed his arms. “He was such a weirdo creep! He was making, like, innuendo about spanking? And I’m pretty sure he claimed he predated on Jay? And that’s obviously not cool and shit, so I couldn’t leave him there to be a bother,” Danny explained. He shrugged. “He’s kind of my jurisdiction anyway,” Danny justified. “Joker has major death experiences vibes.” He wiggled his fingers to illustrate this. “Was he ever declared dead? He acted like he was.” 
“Jurisdiction,” the cop repeated. “Son, are you… do you have some kind of foreign license as law enforcement?” 
Danny thought about it. “Technically,” he admitted. Embarrassing. “…two roles, technically.” Ew. He shuddered. “Walker gave me the rodeo yeehaw cop gold star thing after the last big prison break so I could help, and also teeeechnically I’m meant to enforce infinite realms laws.” He grimaced. “Because.” He ground a foot into the air as if it was the dirt. “Ugh, this is embarrassing.” 
“I don’t need to know the details,” the cop said. That was so unhinged Danny stopped to stare at him. “The Joker was taken into custody by another law enforcement agency, details are classified. Does the Joker still exist?” He was holding his temple.
“Yeahhhhh,” Danny drew out the word. He scrunched his eyebrows together. “If that’s what you want, we can just keep him, I guess. He can be a denizen of the Infinite Realms. Like me,” he added, because he didn’t want people looking for human him. This was a great alibi. The cops would tell the GIW that Phantom lived in the Infinite Realms now, and they would never catch him. He was going to live forever.
The cop took a long drag on his cigarette. “You’re deceased, correct?” 
“You’re blunt,” Danny muttered. “Yeah, uh, I’m a ghost. Wooooo.” He made scary fingers. 
“And your boyfriend?” 
“Not deceased,” Danny said slowly. Although something about what Joker had said was sticking in his mind. “At least, not as of this afternoon. He’s like, this tall. Square jaw, big hands, very white teeth, has a red helmet drag persona-“
He cut himself off as he remembered things. “He’s very unobtrusive is what I was saying,” Danny lied hastily. He gave a nervous laugh. “He, uh, rides bicycles, not motorcycles because that’s a cool guy thing, regular motor-bicycles regular bicycles and he has a red human safety hat for it. Ummmm.” He looked away shiftily and snapped his runaway mouth shut. “Yeah.” He looked back and frowned in concern. The cop looked awful. “Hey, are you okay? Do you have a headache?” 
“Nope.”  The cop didn’t stop massaging at his head. “Name?” 
“Jay,” Danny said. He wasn’t gonna give him a full name.
The cop sighed. He sounded like he was in serious pain. “Your name.” 
Oh, okay. “Phantom.” He did a midair flip.
The cop nodded heavily. “Thank you. Is there anyone I can verify your credentials as Infinite Realms law enforcement with?” 
Danny groaned and buried his face in his hands. Like who, his Dad? Some wizard? Ember? “Do you really have to?” He asked pitifully. “They’re all so embarrassing.”  The cop raised an eyebrow. Danny folded. “Literally anyone who can contact the Infinite Realms,” he muttered sulkily. “I’m kind of a big deal there. I, like, arrested the last king. There’s, uh, a few human magicians you could confirm with. Some ecto biologists in Illinois that you can look up. Any ghost you know, really.” 
So mortifying. He was cop adjacent. He felt queasy.
The cop closed his eyes. “Does that put you in the government in any way?” 
“…You’re smart,” Danny said, surprised at that deductive leap. “Yeah, I’m like, the next king or whatever. When I’m old and dead enough.”
“Fantastic. I’ll leave you my number and I’d like a way to contact you. I want paperwork on the Joker’s new placement tomorrow, I can’t be party to kidnapping.” 
…What was happening?
“Okay,” Danny said in a very high pitch. He, uh, was probably going to have to rescue him from Skulker and actually put him in Walker’s prison. He should have listened to Mom. He fidgeted. “Is there anything else?” He laced his fingers behind his back, feeling a little bit like he was in trouble at school.
“Yeah.” The cop dropped his cigarette and ground it out underneath his boot. “The Red Hood was wounded tonight, but survived. He left of his own accord, alone. I expect he’ll be passed out in some safe house.” 
“…so I should just like, wait?” Danny frowned. “I don’t like it.” 
‘I do have a clue. Jason Wayne. That’s enough to track him down, right? He’s gotta have a dead grandma or someone haunting him. I find his home, I find a family ghost, and they tell me where he is. Boom.’
“You’ll like it less if the Batman shows up to have a chat,” the cop said frankly. “This was a professional courtesy.” He frowned sternly. Danny veered back at the very scary face. “Do I make myself clear, son?” 
“Crystal.”  Danny shot off a salute. “I’ll, uh, go now.” 
“You had better.” The cop’s tone sounded awfully final.
Jeeze. Danny went invisible and left at high speed. He could take a hint. 
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redr0sewrites · 10 months ago
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Sick!Hazbin Hotel x Reader Hcs
i love reverse comfort sm. im also currently being brutally murdered by allergies but i prefer comforting others so here we are
🥀 Cw: fluff, crack, teensy bit of angst with comfort
🥀 Pairing(s): Lucifer x reader, Alastor x reader, Vox x reader, Adam x reader
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Lucifer:
sick? him? please, the king of hell doesn't get sick!
thats what he claims anyways
lucifer brushes nearly everything off as just plain allergies, he could literally have a 103 fever and be shaking on the floor and would still be pouting and saying he's fine
the thing about him tho is that he's easy to take care of- after a little coaxing lucifer just sighs and nods glumly before pretty much submitting himself to your care
once he's admitted hes sick tho, he wants you around him 24/7
lucifer wants cuddles, hugs, kisses, he just gets so clingy when he's feeling under the weather
THIS MAN LITERALLY BURNS UP WHEN HE'S SICK ITS ALWAYS THE LITTLE ONES WITH THE HIGHEST RAGING FEVERS THAT LAST FOR DAYS like he'll be sweating and shivering and crying he gets hit HARD when he's sick and it happens so suddenly too- like one day he's fine and then the next he looks like he's one small wind away from collapsing
he lowkey feels bad about asking for things when he's sick so he'll say something offhand like "yk im in the mood for soup" and hopes you get the message
ABSOLUTELY THE TYPE TO GET FEVER DREAMS AND START RAMBLING WHEN HES SICK
like he'll wake up from a nap and still be half asleep and he just starts genuinely rambling about literally the most obscure things
lucifer definitely gets nightmares even when he isn't sick, but when hes feeling like shit and is so delirious he can't tell reality from fiction? be prepared for him to wake up crying and shaking, he just gets so so scared :(
lucifer feels bad about you taking care of him and wants to help, but will lowkey end up pushing himself too hard. PLEASE reassure him and tell him it's alright he'll literally melt
once its all over, lucifer will genuinely trust you more after you saw him in such a vulnerable state and is much more likely to come to you instead of hiding how he's feeling in the future
Alastor:
alastor? weak? lmao no
he would literally rather die than admit he's sick like he would literally just keep pushing on
alastor is one of those people that has an iron immune system like he VERY rarely gets sick but when he does its like torture
to even be alastor's partner you'd have to know him for a long time and you'd probably be able to read him pretty well (at least compared to other people), yet even you sometimes miss his sickness in the earlier stages
alastors biggest tell tale sign of being sick? exhaustion. he very rarely sleeps on the regular, but when he's sick that all catches up to him
he also gets more irritable and a little less composed, he'd be more prone to getting angry and would lash out if anyone asked if he was ok
alastors ears would also be turned back slightly, like most animals do when they're being aggressive, but its pretty much only obvious to people who know him closely
alastor never wants to be vulnerable or weak but you notice that his eyelids keep drifting of their own accord, and how irritable he's been, and it clicks to you that he's obviously not feeling well
approach him about it in private, while alastor does trust you he still doesn't want others to knowm
no matter how much you try he will not lay down, take medicine, or do anything (at least at first)
alastor genuinely thinks that he can just push through on his own and lowkey thinks you're worrying too much
however after two weeks of pure suffering and exhaustion, combined with no sleep and your irritation at his lack of will to take care of himself, alastor finally breaks
he'd prob come to your room at like 4 in the morning and just curl up on the edge of the bed, shivering a little but staying quiet
you wake up to him fast asleep, his ears twitching every once and a while as he rests peacefully near you
get a cool towel and lay it on his forehead to break the fever, and he'll just keep sleeping
he probably wouldn't wake up for at least a few hours, months of lost sleep are catching up to him at this point, giving you the opportunity to make him some soup and medicine
alastor will stir a little when you get out of bed but wont wake up, but once he does wake up he wants you to come back
when he's sick he wants you to be nearby, alastor isn't the touchiest person and being sick makes him feel gross, so he wouldn't want to be touched but would want you arround just to know you're there
this is probably the first step in him being more open to vulnerability around you, and while it may have been a bit of an irritating process to get him back to his usual healthy status, it's definitely worth it as he begins to trust you more
Vox:
lowkey a man child (affectionate)
vox is one of those guys who will take care of himself when he's sick, but he'll complain about it every step of the way
i think he's pretty responsible when he's sick, he'll take the day off and relax but won't do much other than that
he likes when you pamper him though, and a part of him lowkey enjoys being sick because he just gets to have your full attention all of the time (as if he doesn't already💀)
vox would be irritated about showing weakness and not being in control, but he wouldn't be irritated at you
if an employee was being too nosy about his wellbeing? yea he's pissed but if you're the one taking care of him, he'll just sigh and let you do what you want
VOX IS ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE WHOS LITERALLY ALWAYS COLD AND ITS AMPLIFIED WHEN HES SICK
he becomes like a literal ice cube he's SHIVERING and everything
vox has the cutest sneezes too, he glitches out and denies how cute his sneezes are but they really are adorable
vox takes like 2 baths per day when he's sick he hates feeling unclean, and def wants you to join him in the bath (just to relax, get your mind out of the gutter)
vox would be a little pissed about missing work, i think he's a bit of a workaholic and might try to work in bed or sneak some paperwork behind your back
it doesn't work though because he just ends up passing out anyway
vox is big on sleeping when he's sick he's definitely the type to just sleep it off and thats that
like he CRASHES in bed and just does not get up for hours
he sleeps like the dead too, his screen is blank and he barely moves in his sleep
like lucifer, he has fever dreams but they lean more on the weird side rather than the sad side
its funny but instead of talking more when sick, vox actually talks much less. he starts getting super quiet and a lot more needy for your attention
vox is more than happy to return to work and be back on his feet, but will send you a little thank you gift and pamper you in return for taking care of him
Adam:
manchild x2 (also affectionate)
adam DREADS getting sick like he genuinely hates it so much, he sees it as one of his own flaws and it makes him lowkey disgusted at himself
he whines like a baby over a common cold, its almost sad how the slightest sickness will make him act like he's on his death bed
adam whines and complains whenever you aren't around him, he wants cuddles and kisses and is 10x more clingy when he's sick
he has little to no appetite when he's actually sick but gets a huge appetite right after
like you'll have to force him to eat at least a piece of toast per day while he's actually feverish but once he's in recovery he's literally FAMISHED and will ask for so much food
he barely eats or drinks while hes sick it just feels icky to him
i also think he's the type to not want to move like he just collapses on his bed and barely moves an inch (unless you force him)
adam exaggerates when he's barely sick and then underplays it when he's genuinely really sick its lowkey so confusing
like he could have pneuomonia and be half dead and say he's fine but he could have the most common cold and complain foreverrr
he doesn't think you're genuine when you say you want to help him and take care of him, he thinks its just a joke since nobody has ever really taken care of him before
like sure he's been told what to do and bossed around and treated him like a foolish child, but no one has ever sat with him while he's sick and held his hand yk?
while he can be irritable and annoying while he's sick, he apologizes afterwards
its one of the few times he ever apologizes but he genuinely feels bad about lashing out
adam isn't used to being below someone when it comes to status or health and relaxing and letting someone else take care of him is kind of foreign for him, but you both work it out over time
while he isn't the easiest to take care of, he genuinely appreciates that you want to help him and wants to return the favor someday
I WILL MAKE A PT 2 OF THIS WITH MORE FEM CHARACTERS OR WITH HELLUVA BOSS CHARACTERS BUT I DIDNT WANT TO CROWD UP THIS POST TOO MUCH!!!!! ALSO SORRY FOR ANY SPELLING MISTAKES I WROTE THIS WHILE HALF ASLEEP ♥️ HOPE YALL ENJOYED THIS TEEHEE
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yawujin · 7 months ago
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how the v3 boys would react to being called a 'pretty boy'
type | short-read , reaction , non killing game, lighthearted, fluff , gender neutral reader.
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shuichi saihara ♡
he would be caught off guard
he would begin to smile and not be able to stop
that is, until he clears his throat to stop himself
you could still see his lips though
he looked so funny trying to hide his expression from you
"that's—" he would start, but give up and just let out an awkward laugh
'that means a lot coming from someone like you'
is what he would say but
he's still so very shy whenever you're near
poor boy bless him
rantaro amami ♡
he'd be very accepting towards your compliment
he gets it a lot after all
he's very sweet though so
he would definitely give you a compliment in return
then you become the one who's flustered
"what can i say? it's true (Y/N)." he smiles
internally you're just like '!!!"
but in the end you take the compliment
you just can't deny it
K1B0/kiibo ♡
oh, he's very flattered
believe me
he just doesn't know how to express it
human emotions are hard
"thanks! uh—really..."
how do you even return a compliment?
think, kiibo, think!
all in all, he wants to give one back buttt
he wants it to seem heartfelt and NOT robotic
he'll get back to you later, bringing you a whole thank you card
he's trying his best
korekiyo shinguji ♡
his eyes crinkle, the only visible display of how hard he's smiling under his mask
"thank you very much, dear." he would reply
he's very appreciative towards you
seeing as you can only see a little bit of him because of his bandaged body and mask
he's very happy that you perceive him as pretty
even if you can't see all of him
perhaps
little by little, he'll start showing more off to you
only time will tell
kehehehe
kaito momota ♡
you already know he'll have the biggest smile on his face
he grabs you in an instant and pulls you in for a tight hug, patting you on the back
he kind of pats you hard but it's well-meaning
ofc he sends a compliment right back at you
"and don't let anybody EVER tell you otherwise!"
he tells shuichi and maki about it later
and everybody else too
"guess who's a certified pretty boy? this guyyyy" he points to himself
he's seriously so happy about it
gonta gokuhara ♡
at first he misheard you
he thought you were saying the bugs were pretty
"yes! bugs very pretty!"
you agreed but also repeated yourself
he shyly looks away
a cute lil grin on his face
"(Y/N) think gonta pretty?"
yes ofc
he smiles wider and adjusts his specs
"gonta thank you...very much."
ryoma hoshi ♡
he pulls his beanie down onto his face bashfully
your compliment was sooo unexpected for him
"surely, you can't be serious." he murmured
oh but you were
and you reassured him you were
he sighs, finally getting over that initial embarrassment
"okay...fine."
he accepts it!
"but only because it's coming from you."
(his own silly little way of giving you one back and showing that he trusts your judgement)
kokichi ouma ♡
he'll think you're lying
he'll also give you this funny look like he's trying to get you to admit that you're lying
you already caught onto this
but you say nothing else and just smile back at him
it causes him to break into laughter
"you really crack me up, you know that?"
on the inside, he doesn't know what else to say or how else to express his thanks
so he just makes fun of you and leaves
and once he does
your words just replay in his head over and over
'shit, maybe they weren't lying...'
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⋆ ˚。⋆ my ao3
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heart-of-the-morningstar · 10 months ago
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✨Feathers✨
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Hey hey hey, I’m back! Took a tiny break but I had another idea for a spicy Luci scenario! But this one is super tender cuz Luci needs some TLC like nobody's business! 🥺
This turned out a little more dom!reader then initially planned but I'm happy about it
Big thank you to some of the anons I received for the ideas! I very much appreciate everyone who's given anything I've written their love!
Lucifer x f!sinner reader
Summary: Lucifer's wings are not in the greatest shape, you offer to help clean them...
Warnings: 18+, smut, handjob, oral (m & f receiving), p in v, cockwarming, dom!reader and sub!lucifer if you squint
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It had been a pretty quiet day in house. Lucifer was off with his daughter Charlie for the day, they’ve had quite a bit of father/daughter bonding to catch up on. But this gave you the chance to work on something that you’ve been wanting to make for some time now. It was a secret project, keeping things from Lucifer was harder than it seemed. But with the home to yourself, you were finally able to finish the gift you wanted to give him! Just as you were admiring your work, a portal opened up behind you; Lucifer was back! Quickly, you hid his gift under your pillow before he could see anything. Lucifer stepped through the portal and into your bedroom; you noticed his wings spread out behind him.
“Hi, honey,” you greeted as you walked over to him, planting a small peck on his forehead. He smiled, grabbing your hand and placing a kiss on it in return. “How was your day with Charlie?”
“It was really nice! We went for a little flight, as you can tell,” he laughed, gesturing to his wings. Lucifer’s wings always left you in awe, you couldn’t help but stare at them. But upon further inspection, you saw that they seemed a little worse for wear. You wondered when the last time they were properly taken care of, since you've never seen him actually do anything with them.
“Hey Luci, your wings are looking a little…” you hesitated, looking for the right word, “disheveled. Is everything alright?”
"Ahh," Lucifer sighed, "yeah, I uhh...I'll admit, I haven't paid them much attention. Not in a long while."
You knew that he had been by himself for a long time before you came along. He had mentioned his battles with self isolation and depression that he had fought against for years, but he was never too keen on going into more detail than necessary. Looking back, it would make sense as to why his wings are in the state that they are. It saddened you, you wished you could have been there for him. It was time to make up for that.
"How about this," you proposed, "why don't I run us a bath and I'll help you clean them up. How does that sound?"
"O-Oh, are you sure?," he questioned, failing to hide the fact that his cheeks were now flushed. "They're kind of a pain, I don't want you to-" you cut off his protests with a peck. You felt his lips curl into a smile.
"Nothing's a pain when it comes to you, Lucifer," you assured. "Go get ready and I'll see you in a few minutes, alright? Tonight, let me take care of you."
"Of course," he grinned, "thank you, my angel."
*** Lucifer saw you smile and make your way to the bathroom that was connected to your bedroom. As soon as the door closed, he let out a long sigh. It really had been years since he’s taken care of his wings. It was a lot easier when there was someone there to help. When Lilith left, it became a much more daunting task. He began to undo his button up shirt, tossing it onto the bed and moved on to undoing his belt. But suddenly, he stopped once the buckle had been unhooked. Shit, he thought to himself, realizing he’d forgotten how sensitive his wings were, my wings being touched are drive me insane! I don’t think I’ll be able to keep it together, especially not after years of just letting them go! He sucked in a few deep breaths and continued removing the belt from his pants. It’s fine, it’s fine…as long as I don’t make a noise or turn around. Just focus, Lucifer. For Satan’s sake, you’re the king of Hell!
Lucifer undid his zipper, letting his pants and boxers drop to the floor and kicking them off to the side. Unfortunately, he could already feel the blood rushing between his legs in anticipation. No, no, no!, he scolded himself, we’re not doing this. We’re getting our wings washed and we’re going to bed! I’m not letting this turn into anything other than a nice bath! She CANNOT think I’m just some touch starved pervert! I’m not! He inhaled deeply and ran his fingers through his hair, trying his best to calm down. After a minute, he made his way to the bathroom, placing his hand on the knob.
“I’m so fucked,” he whispered to himself before slowly opening the door.
*** It was fortunate that Lucifer had such a spacious home, that meant a more spacious bathroom as well. His bathtub could easily fit four people comfortably, but this at least gave you room to be able to work with his wings. You turned the water on to a nice warm temperature, making sure it wasn't too hot. You undressed as the bathtub began to fill, grabbing a soft washcloth from the closet and bubble bath soap after discarding your clothes. Once the tub was half full, you poured the soap in, letting it mix with the running water. The bubbles appeared fast, you couldn't see that water anymore after a few seconds. Finally, you brought the flow to a stop and dipped your toes in to test that waters. Perfect. You stepped in and slowly began to sink down into the warm liquid that heated your core. Lucky for you, his tub had seats along the sides so you could sit comfortably instead of sinking to the bottom! As soon as you were submerged just below your shoulders, you heard the bathroom door creaking behind you.
"Knock, knock!," Lucifer joked, hitting the already opened door with his knuckles. You chuckled as he closed the door behind him. Not that it was a new sight to you, but his naked figure never ceased to make you blush, as if he were perfectly sculpted. You shook your head, trying your best to focus on his face and not let your eyes wander anywhere else.
"Alright, let's see what we're working with," you stated, prompting Lucifer to conjure his wings once more. As you looked them over, you could tell it would take a little bit of time to clean them properly, but you were more than willing to help. You shifted over to the edge of the tub and offered Lucifer your hand. Smiling, he took hold as you guided him into the water with you. He sat down next you, turning his back so you could start working on his neglected feathers.
"Thank you for this," he spoke softly as you took the washcloth and began to work on his first set of wings. "I really don't deserve it, or you..."
"Luci, don't say that," you cut in, "I love you, and I want to help you. I'll always be here, I promise."
You heard him hum in response. He had a lot more feathers than you originally thought. You wanted to take your time, combing through every feather from his first set as they were the largest. You moved your attention down to his second set of wings after a few minutes. You were both quiet for a while as you continued your ministrations, running the washcloth thoroughly through each of his feathers, ridding them of any dirt. However, the sound of Lucifer's breathing becoming heavier with each passing minute did not go unnoticed by you. Wings were very sensitive areas after all. A tiny smile crept on your face. You had finally moved on to his last set of wings. They would be the easiest to take care of since they were the smallest, but you wanted to test your suspicions before you finished.
"Almost done," you hummed, "you doing alright?"
"YEAH, yeah," Lucifer answered almost too loudly, "I-I'm fine."
"That's good," you responded, gripping his feathers with just a little bit more force than necessary. You heard a small whimper escape Lucifer's throat, his hand shooting out of the water to cover his mouth. Bingo. "You sure you're alright, hon?"
"M-Mhmm," Lucifer mumbled into his palm.
"All clean," you purred, causing Lucifer's wings to disappear in a flash.
Lucifer stood up a little too fast trying to exit the tub, his back still towards you. "Thank you love, I really really appreciate you doing that for me, but I'm kind of tired so I'm gonna-" You didn't let him finish his sentence, grabbing onto his hips and pulling him into your lap, causing a large splash. "D-Darling, what are you doing?"
"And where do you think you're going?" you questioned, letting your hands run down his hips and towards his thighs. You heard Lucifer's breath hitch as your hands roamed dangerously close to his hard on. "What's the matter, baby? Were you hoping I wouldn't notice that you were getting turned on by all my touching? How cute."
You let your hand wander until you finally gripped his hardened cock. Lucifer could only let out a strangled yelp. All too pleased, you began to stroke his cock at an agonizingly slow pace. Lucifer tried to buck up at your touch, but your other arm was wrapped around his abdomen, keeping him flush to your chest. He wasn’t going anywhere.
“Now why would you try to hide this from me, Luci?,” you teased him as you began peppering kisses along the back of his neck.
“Hhng…I-I’m sorry, love,” he swallowed, “it…shit…it’s embarrassing. I shouldn’t h-have had that reaction while you were…ffffuuucckk…” He completely trailed off, only being able to focus on your movements. You had only picked up your pace slightly since you started, you wanted to make this last as long as possible. But unfortunately, you could feel your own arousal start to pulse between your legs. Without warning, you let go off his cock, causing to Lucifer to whimper at the loss of your hand. You swiftly stood up and hooked your arm under his legs, carrying him bridal style out of the tub. He looked up at you with a mixture of shock and arousal. Once you were fully out of the tub, you placed him onto the white marble floor.
"Stay," you commanded. Lucifer held his arms down at his sides, completely immobile. You sauntered over to the rack and grabbed the two fresh towels hanging there. After opening the bathroom door, you dried off your soaking body as quickly as you could before making your way back over to Lucifer with the other towel in hand. You patted his hair down first, then moved to his face and shoulders, working it down to his chest and stomach. You avoided touching the area he needed you to touch the most and finally finished by drying off his legs. "Get ready," you told him as you stood up straight once more. Before he could respond, you scooped him up in your arms again with the towel placed underneath him. You couldn't help but smile down at him once you say how flushed his face had gotten. You effortlessly carried your lover into the bedroom and placed him down on the edge of the bed. You took the towel and placed it on the floor, giving your knees some much needed cushion from the hard wooden floor.
"Sweetheart, p-please," Lucifer said, finally finding his voice again, "you don't have to-" You gently wrapped your fingers around the base of his cock, cutting him off mid-sentence. He could only yelp in response.
"I told you that I would take care of you tonight, did I not?" you replied with a coy smile. "That's exactly what I intend to do."
You lowered your head and gently pressed your lips to the head of his cock which was already covered in precum. Your tongue circled the tip, causing Lucifer to grip the sheets beneath him, not being able to focus on anything else. You relaxed your jaw, forcing your mouth down onto his shaft as far as you could manage. You didn't want to choke, after all! You absolutely adored the sounds leaving Lucifer's lips, desperate moaning and incoherent babbling. You quickened your pace, your hot mouth leaving trails of saliva down your hand. You felt Lucifer's legs begin to shake.
"L-Love," he choked out, "if you don't stop, I'm g-gonna...FUCK!" You didn't stop bobbing your head up and down. If anything, it only made you work faster. You felt his hands reach out to your shoulders, seemingly trying to push you away, but he wasn't trying very hard if that was the case. You refused to budge. "OHFUCKME," was the last thing he could mutter before his orgasm hit him, spilling his hot seed into your mouth. It was salty, but not unpleasant. You kept your mouth firmly on his cock as he rode out his high. You felt him soften in your mouth and you finally removed yourself from him with a *pop*. You caught some of his cum on your finger that had leaked from your mouth, licking it clean. Lucifer caught you doing so and buried his face in his hands.
“You’re going to kill me one of these days, darling,” he mumbled.
You chuckled, pulling his hands away to see his bright yellow eyes staring back at you. “I don’t think I have that kind of power!"
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before," Lucifer sighed, "my wings are very...sensitive to say the least. I completely forgot about it until it was too late. I thought I could tough it out, but umm, that's clearly not what ended up happening. I didn't want you to think I was some maniac who couldn't control himself..."
You brought your hand up to his cheek, caressing it softly with your thumb. He closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. " You don't have to apologize to me, Luci, it's alright," you comforted. "Besides, seeing you so worked up is extremely hot!"
"Pfft!" Lucifer laughed, picking up on your attempt to lighten the mood. "Well, I'm glad you think so! I was dying the entire time in there!"
You smiled at him and got up from your kneeled position." Do you feel better now? Got it all out of your system?”
"Not quite," he breathed.
As if to take revenge from your stunt from earlier, Lucifer grabbed you by the hips and pulled you on top of him. "HEY!," you protested, but it was already too late; your cunt that's been aching for attention was now perfectly hovered over Lucifer's maniacal grin. Without warning, he pulled your legs down towards him and began to lick up your folds vigorously. His tongue attacking your clit with every lap he took. Your arms gave out almost immediately, forcing you onto your elbows to keep yourself propped up while the dirtiest moans filled the room. "Fuck...Fuck Luci, you feel s-so good...SHIT!," you cried out. His forked tongue worked at your sensitive nub relentlessly, causing the pit in your stomach to tighten. You weren't going to last much longer at this rate, he was too good and he knew it. Every time he ate you out, he always acted like a starving man who would never taste you again. It only took a few more nibbles at your clit before your walls spasmed uncontrollably, cumming hard against his tongue. He hummed in approval as he helped you ride out your orgasm, swallowing every drop of you. You managed to crawl away from him and plopped chest down on your mattress.
"You're insatiable, aren't you, Lucifer?," you teased, still trying to catch your breath.
"And you're irresistible, aren't you, my angel?" Lucifer joked back. He sat up straight against the pillows next to where your head laid. You couldn't help but notice that he was rock hard again. It filled you with pride to know just how much tasting you on his lips could illicit such a response. A thought popped into your head at that moment, your lips forming into a devious smile. You weren't going to let him have the last word. He was done for.
You pushed yourself up from your prone position and straddled Lucifer's lap, leaning down and crashing your lips into his. He moaned into your kiss, licking across your bottom lip, almost like he was begging you for access. You opened your mouth wide and felt his tongue slip past your lips, deepening your kiss. To his dismay, you pulled away from him, panting and breathless. You lined up your entrance with his cock, sinking down onto him in one quick motion. Both of you moaned at the sensation, feeling his cock twitch inside of you. Lucifer eagerly started to buck his hips into you, but you had other plans. You let the rest of your upper body weight fall onto his hips, rendering him immobile.
"Wh-what are you doing?," Lucifer whined as he tried desperately to rut up into you to no avail. "Please...please, need to move...."
You adored him in this state, begging and pleading for you to let him chase his release. "Teaching you a lesson," you grinned, shifting your hips every so slightly and making him bury his head into the crook of your neck.
"PLEASE! Please, I'll do anything!" Lucifer begged, his breathing becoming more and more labored. "Whatever you want!"
"I want you to promise me something, Luci," you cooed, placing your hand under his chin and lifting his head to meet your gaze. "Promise me that you'll come to me if you need help from now on. And in return, I'll promise you that I'll always be there whenever you need me. Do we have a deal?"
Tears welled up in his eyes at your words and the lack of stimulation. He buried his head into your chest, wrapping his arms around you. "YesyesyesIpromiseIpromiseIwill," he sobbed. You smiled and kissed the top of his head, his blond hair brushing against your face.
"That's my good boy," you praised. You decided to end his torment by lifting your hips and slamming back down on his cock at a break neck pace. His wanton moans went straight to your core, you knew another orgasm was fast approaching. He bucked his hips up into you, his cock hitting your G spot just right with every thrust.
"So close...sososoclose," Lucifer whimpered in your ear.
"L-Let go, baby," you choked out in your cock drunken state, "c-cum in me, Luci, pleasepleasePLEASE!"
Lucifer leaned down and bit into your shoulder, muffling his cries as it only took him a few more thrusts before spilling his seed into you. His bite pushed you over the edge as well, pulsating around his leaking cock. You both took a minute to come down from your highs, neither of you wanting to pull apart. At last, you pulled yourself up and out of Lucifer's lap and completely collapsed next to him. You reached over the edge of the bed and picked up the towel from earlier, handing it to Lucifer so he could clean himself up. You were about to fall asleep when you remembered something important.
"OH!," you shouted, startling Lucifer a little bit. "I almost forgot! I made you something!" You reached under your pillow where you had hid his gift from earlier. You pulled out a small duckling keychain with the words "My Little Duckling" beneath it. You passed it to Lucifer who cupped it in his hands, staring at it like it was made of diamonds.
"You...you made this...for me?," he stammered, completely enamored with his present. He clenched his fist around it and held it up to his heart. "I...I love it so much, darling! This is the best gift I've ever received! I'll cherish this forever! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" He pulled you in for the tightest hug he's ever given you while peppering small kisses all over your face. You giggled and managed to capture his lips before he could get another peck in.
"I'm really happy you like it," you smiled. "We'll figure out where you can hang it in the morning, yeah?"
"I'd love nothing more, my dear" Lucifer grinned. "But for now, let's get some sleep, shall we."
You nodded and yawned in agreement. You shifted yourself flush against Lucifer's chest, letting his arms wrap around you. You felt his tail wrap around you leg right before you lost consciousness, letting you know he would never let you go.
~~~~
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IT'S FUCKING DONE BABY, LET'S GOOOOOOOO
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ellecdc · 8 months ago
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💰jingle jingle💰
how much for you to continue the barty shirt fic where they make it up to the tower and tell the marauders🤭
I'll give you this one for free but the rest will cost you
Barty Crouch Jr x potter!reader who tattles on Jegulus
CW: making fun of only children, siblings insulting one another, platonic Prongsfoot drama, no real angst - just chaos Continuation of this one shot
The trek from the Slytherin dungeons up the Gryffindor tower in a full sprint was unideal for even the most athletic and fit quidditch player in the castle; but if there was one thing a lifetime worth of living with James Potter and his pranking ways prepared you for, it was running.
Fortunately for you, this was not a universal experience and you were quickly able to leave Regulus and Barty well enough behind you.
You screamed the password at the Fat Lady who shrieked in fear when she saw you barrelling towards her causing her to open so quickly that the portrait thwacked against the stone walls and you all but dived into the common room. 
You stood up straight as your chest burned to survey the patrons of the common room only to find that the entire common room was already doing the same to you.
“Circe’s tits, Potter.” Lily said with a smirk. “You look like you were trying to outrun Peeves.”
Your smile turned devious as you continued panting. “Better.” You answered quickly, turning your sights towards your brother, Peter, Remus, and…
“Sirius!” You greeted as you speed-walked over to their sofas.
“Hey Trouble; get tired of the snakes?” Sirius teased as he moved a chess piece with an air of nonchalance.
You were eager to change that.
Before you could open your mouth, two Slytherin’s came spilling into the common room before the portrait had a chance to close behind them.
“I’m so glad you could join me for this.” You taunted Regulus who’s jaw tightened as he straightened himself up and shook Barty’s hand off his shoulder.
“Isn’t this a nice shirt, Siri?”
Sirius looked up at that as he considered your form. “Yeah, actually; that’s designer, right?”
You look down at it with a smirk when you heard Regulus whisper a cautionary, “Potter.”
“I’m not sure…it’s got a little crown on the sleeve.” You explained innocently.
Sirius’ eyebrows widened at that. “Shit. Yeah those are super expensive; but great quality and super soft. Great choice, Junior.”
“Thank you!” Barty accepted eagerly. “See Treasure? Black gets it.”
You smirked as you looked over at James who you could see by now was clearly sweating. “Right…but I actually stole this from Jamie’s trunk.”
James’ eyes shot to Regulus as yours moved back to Sirius who was staring at you bemusedly.
“That is not Prongs’ shirt, and didn’t Junior just admit it was his?”
“Nope.” Barty answered with a pop of the p. “I admitted buying it.”
“Why are you buying clothes for James?” Remus asked cautiously then, eyes darting nervously between your mischievous form, James’ anxious form, Regulus’ tense form, and Sirius’ confused form.
“Oh, I’d never buy clothes for that Potter.” Barty scoffed. “That shirt was Reggie’s birthday present last year.”
The sound of Peter’s hand slapping against his mouth as he stared at you all wide eyed was the only sound in the entire common room.
Remus was holding his book in front of his face like a shield as he watched the spectacle that was his friend group.
Finally, Lily let out a long suffering sigh. “Potter, you might want to take this chance to get a head start.”
“Right.” James agreed quickly as he took off towards the portrait hole, pausing as he passed Regulus, seeming to decide since he was already going to die tonight, he may as well go big or go home.
He paused long enough to pull Regulus into a searing kiss before ripping away from him and taking off out of the common room.
The room continued to sit silently as everyone digested what they just saw.
“Did we seriously lose both Potter’s to Slytherin’s?” Marlene asked finally, causing Regulus to scoff.
“Like you’ve got a leg to stand on here, McKinnon.”
“At least I’m not fucking my brother’s best friend!” She volleyed back, causing Sirius to let out a dramatic gagging sound.
“You lot really need to spend less time worrying about who your siblings are shagging.” Peter said with an air of finality.
“Thank you!” You and Regulus chorused, causing you to glare at one another.
“You’re taking this rather well, Pads.” Remus chuckled, tapping Sirius’ knee with his book as Sirius continued staring unseeingly at the portrait hole.
“Mhm.”
Remus and Peter exchanged a worried glance. “What are you waiting for?” Peter asked finally.
“James will get lonely when he realizes no one is chasing him.” He replied in monotone. “He’ll be back in a few.”
“Sirius, please be cool about this; I’m happy, alright?” Regulus sighed in exasperation.
Sirius’ eyes flit over to his younger brother as his brows furrowed. “Listen, am I particularly pleased about…this? No. But that’s not what I’m going to kill him for.”
“What are you going to kill him for?” You inquired, wondering if it was worth writing home to your parents about.
The second your sentence finished, James cautiously stepped back through the portrait hole to find the common room in much the same state as he’d left it.
Suddenly, Sirius stood from his spot on the sofa. “ALL THOSE TIMES YOU TOLD ME YOU WERE TOO BUSY TUTORING TO PRANK WITH ME, YOU WERE DITCHING ME FOR MY BROTHER!?”
The room collectively grimaced as they looked over at James. 
“Listen mate, it’s not what it looks like.” James pleaded, earning him a scoff from his best friend.
“It isn’t what it looks like!? Because the way it looks to me is that you lied, and you kept secrets! You know, there was a point in this relationship that trust and honesty meant something!” Sirius shouted back.
“It does!” James offered quickly. “It does, Pads! Swear it!”
“Right, forgive me, but your word means nothing to me right now.” He spat as he went storming up towards their shared dorm, James quickly following behind.
“Please don’t shut me out like this; you’re still my other half!”
But the rest of the argument performance was silenced when the door to their room shut behind them.
“Well, Regulus.” Remus sighed with a tired smile. “Welcome to the family; our boyfriend’s are each other’s boyfriends, and this happens every three days.”
“Salazar’s fucking balls.” Regulus groaned as he threw his head back. “This is why I didn’t want it going public.”
“Oi!” You shouted as you lobbed a throw pillow at your new future brother-in-law. “If you’re going to love my brother, love him with your whole chest, coward!”
“You take that back.” He hissed at you.
“I’ll do no such thing.”
“I…I don’t know what to do…should…should we get a professor? What’s happening?” Barty started, looking around the Gryffindor common room with a look of panic on his face.
“Oh, relax, Junior. Your only child is showing.” Remus sighed as he pulled his book back out.
“Aren’t you an only child, Lupin?”
“Yup.” Remus responded as he turned a page of his book. “But I’ve lived in the same tower as the Potters for seven years, and dealt with Sirius and Regulus for the past two; you pick up a few things. Things like this-” he explained as he pointed towards you and Regulus who were still throwing insults back and forth. “Is what siblings call bonding.”
Lily chuckled as Marlene, Barty, Peter, and Remus watched as you called Regulus a “spoiled rotten toerag” to which he replied that “even listening to your voice made him feel like he was losing brain cells”.
“Siblings are weird.” Barty decided.
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syrupfog · 3 months ago
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Sanji was not born a natural fighter. 
He, very specifically, was NOT born with the superhuman fighting abilities of his siblings. He was born normal. Weak. Useless. He knows this. 
Zeff taught him to fight and Sanji practised. Learned. Grew. But the natural talent wasn't there.
When Luffy picked him up, added him to the crew, Sanji knew it was for his cooking abilities. 
But he knew that being on the crew of the future King of the Pirates meant he couldn’t just be the best cook on the Grand Line. He had to be able to fight, too.
And that’s where Zoro came in. Zoro, who scoffed at him from day one. Who liked his cooking well enough but didn’t seem to care much for Sanji as a person. 
Sanji was pretty confident he knew why. Zoro knew they needed to be strong, and Sanji— he wasn’t strong enough.
He didn’t think he ever would be— he was too normal. Born normal. But he TRIES. On the Merry before everyone wakes up and after they go to sleep, between preparing meals. He sets himself a brutal training regimen. 
He’ll train until Zoro stopped giving him that scathing look.
They get Nami back from Arlong Park and Sanji finds himself limping to the after party. Zoro takes one look at how he’s favouring his foot and scowls. 
In Little Garden Zoro straight up challenges him and Sanji revels in the ability to prove himself. It doesn’t work. They tie.
At Drum Sanji gets injured. He’s too weak too weak too weak— he barely gets Nami help in time, it’s his fault she almost— 
He’s strapped down and his spine fixed and all he can think is that Zoro is right. He doesn’t deserve this role.
People have started calling them the wings of the pirate king. Fucking laughable. Sanji could never be on Zoro’s level and Zoro knows it. 
They fight. They blow off steam. It helps Sanji to cool down, to gauge what level he’s at. He knows Zoro’s holding back.
He thinks, for a moment, that he has finally moved up a rung in Skypeia. He’s getting better. 
All it takes is one moment when he’s changing. For Zoro to spot the marks from the lightning that litter his back. That angry scowl that sets his features makes Sanji’s heart sink.
He takes his frustration out on the Davy Back fight. He tantrums like a child for Zoro’s respect even when he knows he hasn’t earned it, can’t earn it. 
It sort of works, though.
Everything goes to shit in Water 7 and for once it’s kinda nice to know he’s not the one fucking up. Not that he would tell Usopp that. He plans good spicy pasta for his return. 
He fights a ramen man with knives on the train and thanks the stars that Zoro isn’t there to see it.
(After all, Sanji doesn’t fight with his hands— he doesn’t want Zoro to lose the last of his respect for Sanji by seeing him break with his own ideals). 
They get out of Water 7 with a new crew member. He’s a cyborg. He’s strong. 
Then Thriller Bark happens. Thriller Bark sucks.
Zoro just— he just pushes him aside. 
He knows Sanji can’t handle it. He knows he’s too weak. And it’s true but it HURTS. Sanji’s tried so HARD he’s trained for so LONG he’s tried to balance fighting and cooking as best he can, he barely SLEEPS— 
And Zoro pushes him aside.
He takes the damage. 
He almost dies. 
That should’ve been Sanji. 
Sanji hates him for it. 
He hates himself for it. 
He sits in the infirmary and stares past Zoro’s mangled form and wonders what he’s supposed to do now.
They get to Saboady. 
Sanji doesn’t see any of them for two years.
Zoro looks good. He looks strong. He’s missing an eye. 
After two years, Sanji can admit that he had been desperate for Zoro’s approval for more than one reason. 
He sees Zoro’s face light up when Luffy appears and he thinks, so selfishly, that he wants that look too.
Fishman Island isn’t a great start. 
Punk Hazard is— well. 
Zoro doesn’t scowl at him when he’s in Nami’s body, his expression is DIFFERENT. Pained. Sanji doesn’t know why. He doesn’t like it. 
Then he’s back in his own body and Zoro’s scowl is back and Sanji— 
He’s sick of it.
He’s so so sick of it. 
He spends what feels like hours running back and forth in this hellhole of a lab with poison gas invading his lungs and fucking Vergo attacking him and the next time that Sanji sees Zoro once everything is over, he’s busy doling out soup to the masses.
They like his soup, because he’s a good cook. Because he spent two years learning secret recipes and two years training harder than ever before and Zoro still has the gall to scowl at him like he doesn’t want to share the same air. 
Sanji snaps. 
He hands off the ladle to Franky
He walks over and aims a kick at Zoro’s head. 
Zoro ducks. 
He parries the next kick. 
Sanji is relentless. He’s yelling. Insults, obscenities. Their fighting empties out their half of the room. Zoro works all the way up to three swords, breathing hard.
They only stop when Nami throws a weather attack at them and yells to take it outside. Cowed, Sanji calms down enough to slip out he door. 
He’s surprised, honestly, when Zoro follows him. 
“You gonna tell me what that was about?” Zoro asks. 
“Shut up.”
Zoro scowls at him. 
Sanji snaps his teeth. “That! That’s what this is about! That fucking face!” 
Zoro blinks. “You’re mad at my face?” “Yeah! I fucking am! You keep— you’ve ALWAYS looked at me with that fucking face! Like I’m fucking BENEATH YOU!” 
Zoro blinks again. His scowl, briefly, disappears, replaced with confusion. “I don’t think you’re fucking beneath me,” he says, sounding bewildered. 
Sanji pauses. “What— is your face just stuck like that?” 
Zoro’s face drops back into a scowl. “Shut up,” he says. “Maybe I’m just annoyed by you.”
Annoyed. 
Well. That does hurt. The part of Sanji that has realised by now just how much he wants something more than just approval from the swordsman. It… sorta hurts that he doesn’t trust him as a fighter AND doesn’t like him as a person. 
“Oh,” he says.
Zoro’s eyebrows knit together. “Hold on,” he says. “What the fuck.” 
“…What?” 
“You think I don’t like you because you’re, what, not competent?” 
“I’m competent,” Sanji lies. 
“Yeah,” Zoro says. “I know.” 
What? 
Sanji peers at him. “You… know?”
“We’re the strongest people on Luffy’s crew. Of course I know.” 
Sanji’s not strong. He’s never been strong. “No we’re not,” he says. 
“I mean obviously I mean besides Luffy.” 
“I— that’s not what I meant.” Sanji tugs absentmindedly on his hair. It’s fucking cold here.
“So you don’t hate me because I’m weak… you just hate me because I’m annoying,” he intones. 
Zoro looks at him like he has two heads. “I don’t hate you Cook, fucking hell.” 
Sanji throws his hands up, face hot. “Then what is your problem with me? You’ve always done this, always given me this— this LOOK when we’re fighting people—“ 
“You’re coughing,” Zoro says.
 “…Excuse me?” 
“You got some of that poison gas in your lungs. Not a lot, but enough that you’re affected.” 
“Fine. I fucked up—“
“I should’ve been faster,” Zoro says. 
Sanji blinks. “Been faster at what?”
“Clearing the area. I should’ve gone after that fucking clown.” 
“You had a job to do—“ 
“Every time I’m too slow, people get hurt. You get hurt.” 
Sanji scoffs. “We can protect ourselves. We’re all in Luffy’s crew.” 
“But you shouldn’t have to,” Zoro says, hand gripping his swords. 
“You’re the fucking cook, that’s your job. It’s my job to keep you safe.” 
“I’m a pirate, I’m just as capable—“
Zoro growls, shoulders hunching up. “It’s not about being CAPABLE, FUCK, SANJI OF COURSE YOU’RE CAPABLE. But it’s my job.” He starts pacing.
“Those scars on your back from the lightning are still there in the right light. That scar from Drum island too. I’d known you for two days before you ended up covered in fishman blood to the point I wasn’t sure if you had just killed someone or were actively dying.”
He stops suddenly, turning and grasping Sanji’s upper arms, that scowl firmly in place as he stares into Sanji’s eye. “Every time you get hurt? That’s MY failure. My ONLY job on this crew is to keep people SAFE.” 
Sanji stands rigid, keeping eye contact. “Zoro,” he says.
Zoro drops his arms as if burned. 
“Zoro,” Sanji says again. “Mosshead. You’re not in this alone.” 
“My job is swords,” Zoro mutters. 
Sanji, despite himself, barks out a raw laugh. “And here I spent the last two and a half years thinking you just hated how weak I was.”
“You keep saying that,” Zoro says, looking utterly baffled. “You’re not weak. You’ve never been weak.” 
Sanji thinks of metal weighing his head down, of dark dungeons and rats. 
He thinks about Zeff teaching him. About his flaming kicks. “…Huh,” is all he says.
Then, because he’s not weak, he reaches out and grabs onto Zoro’s robe. “You don’t hate me. You don’t think I’m weak.” 
“I’m not going to keep upping your ego,” Zoro growls. 
Sanji pulls him in by his robe and— he doesn’t kiss him. He knocks their foreheads together.
“Shit, ow,” Zoro groans. 
Sanji breathes against his skin. “Mosshead,” he says. “Why do you scowl at me and no one else?” 
There’s silence for a while. Sanji can feel his eyelashes when he blinks. 
“It’s because you’re annoying as fuck,” Zoro says.
And then he surges up to kiss him. 
Sanji welcomes it. 
It’s a kiss with a lot of teeth and too much heat and the taste of cheap sake. 
It’s just what Sanji needed. 
Maybe it’s just what Zoro needed. 
Sanji can feel him scowling into the kiss and it feels like a promise.
451 notes · View notes
golden-cherry · 4 months ago
Text
deal - cl16 (37/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: The night on the boat comes to an end.
Warnings: 18+ (female masturbation (vaginal fingering), light voyerism (auralism), mentions of: sex, oral, choking, cream pie, free use (if you squint you'll miss it)), fluff
Word Count: 4k
series masterlist
previous part
A/N: happy Lando win everyone!!! feedback is appreciated! love ya.
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“I think it's fantastic that you want to work with me,” Charles mumbles into the mirror as you brush your teeth in the tiny bathroom of the boat. 
It's now one o'clock in the morning, the cocktail glasses and shot glasses have been rinsed and are halfway tidily stowed away - the alcohol has put a spanner in the works when Charles accidentally dropped a glass. 
“I thought so,” you reply with a grin. “Otherwise you wouldn't have given me the contract for Christmas.” You spit the toothpaste foam into the sink and wash your mouth out with water. “But I'm also glad that you want to work with me. It really means a lot to me.”
Charles smiles at you. “Of course I want to work with you,” he replies and rinses his mouth out too. “Did you really think I'd bring someone else onto my team when my best friend is perfect for the job?” 
You look at him incredulously. “You didn't know if I was perfect for the job.”
Charles' cheeks flush a little. “Okay, you got me,” he admits. “I only knew the pictures you took for the magazine. And the pictures from Kika. But my gut told me it was the right decision.” He smiles lovingly at you. “Just like it was the right decision to share our first apartment.”
Warmth shoots into your face. Touched by his words, you look down. “I agree.” 
When you look at him again, he smiles fondly. “Best deal I've ever made.” He puts his toothbrush in his pocket and doesn't even realize how much his words touch you. “Are you looking forward to spending so much time with me?”
“Of course,” you reply, ”after all, thanks to you, I can travel the world and earn money at the same time.”
Charles rolls his eyes in mock annoyance. “Isn't my company enough for you? Isn't that enough of a reward?” he teases you and leans against the doorframe while you brush your hair. 
“That, my dear, is an incredibly nice perk.”
“Of course,” Charles grins and follows you back into the bedroom. 
You stop in front of the large bed before turning to your roommate. “Who's sleeping where?”
“You can have the big bed. I usually use it when I go out on the boat in the summer, but you're welcome to take it. I'll just take one of the small ones,” he offers. 
You shake your head vehemently, only to regret it for a moment - the alcohol has affected you a little more than you thought. “But it's your boat and your bed. You should have it.” You purse your lips. “Besides, you've had a lot more to drink than I have. You'll definitely need the whole place to sober up.” You can barely suppress the grin on your face. 
“It was maybe two or three shots more. And only because you just poured them without me being able to resist,” he defends himself. “A small bed is enough for me. Take the big one, please.”
You remember the two of you standing in front of the bed in your first apartment after spending the evening at Kika's. How you agreed to share the bed so that he wouldn't get a sore back. And you're only too happy to offer to share the bed in front of you again - but with the ulterior motive that there are still several beds actually free and you want to maintain a healthy distance between you, you can't suggest sharing the bed without it seeming strange. 
“All right,” you finally concede and smile at him. “Thanks.” You rummage through your bag looking for your sleeping clothes until you realize you've left them at home. “Shit.”
“What is it?” your friend asks, pulling a shirt out of his backpack. 
You rub your forehead with your hand. “I forgot my sleeping clothes.”
Charles laughs. “I told you there was a chance we could spend the night here.” He shakes his head with a smile and tosses you the shirt in his hand. “Here. I've got a second one with me.”
Without having to move much, you catch the shirt. The fabric is soft and warm in your hand. “Are you sure? I don't want you to -”
“Don't worry,” he interrupts you before pulling something else out of his pocket and throwing it in your direction. They are short sports shorts. “I don't have any more shorts with me, but I can sleep in a shirt and boxer shorts if you don't mind.”
You're glad that the lights inside the boat are dimmed - at least he can't see you swallowing hard to get rid of the frog in your throat. “All good,” you smile tightly and put your shirt and shorts on the bed behind you, ”thanks.”
“Not an issue,” he returns your smile and his gaze falls briefly to his clothes on your bed before he looks you in the eye again. “I - um - I just need to take a shower. I hope you don't mind.”
“Go on.” You sit down on the edge of the bed. “I don't think I'm going to fall asleep within the next few minutes. Besides, there are still a few things upstairs. I can just go and get them. Then you'll have a little more privacy.”
“Okay,” he says. “See you in a bit.” He disappears around the corner, where he then enters the bathroom. When you hear the door close behind him and the water running, you get up from the bed to change. You take off your sweater, shirt and bra and quickly slip Charles' shirt on. As his scent envelops you, you lift the collar to your nose like a woman possessed and breathe in the scent. 
You miss his closeness, the feel of his skin on yours. You long for his warmth, the pressure of his embrace. But you can't tell him that without making a fool of yourself, so you silently take in his scent and let the soft fabric fall back onto your body. It almost feels like one of his hugs - but only almost. 
You quickly change into his shorts before folding your clothes neatly and placing them next to your bag on the couch. On bare feet, you walk up the stairs and towards the sun bed. You carefully put the bottles of schnapps and wine back in the basket and try to carry them as carefully as possible. As you walk down the stairs - almost staggering from the alcohol - you can't suppress the clinking. You put the basket down in the kitchen before going back upstairs to get the cushions. 
As you step onto the last step with the cushions in your hands, you stand frozen. 
“Oh fuck” - "just like that’"- ”you - fuck - your mouth feels so good”
Shocked, you stand still on the stairs as if you've been superglued there, your fingers digging into the cushions. 
“You can take it” - "I know, mon amour, I know" - “You're so tight, mon amour”
From where you are, you can hear the water from the shower pattering on the floor. The click of a shower gel bottle being closed. And Charles' voice, panting, echoing through the rooms. 
“So good for me” - "My good little girl" - ”All this just for me”
Heat rises to your face and the blood pulses in your ears as Charles - what? Touching himself in the shower? Doesn't he know you're down here? And is the bathroom door so thin that you can hear him?
You should go upstairs, give him his space and not listen to him pleasuring himself and moaning. But you can't move - you stand rooted to the spot on the last step of the stairs and can do nothing but stare towards the bathroom door. You hear him panting, cursing and the water splashing until your heart is pounding so hard you can almost hear it. 
“Want to stay in your pussy forever,” Charles moans. Is he thinking of someone in particular? Or does he just have a piece of porn playing in his head? 
“You take me so well,” you hear the Monegasque sigh - and it's as if your legs are moving on their own. 
It feels wrong as you lie down in the big bed and slip under the covers. And it feels even more wrong as you spread your thighs. You hear a grunt from the bathroom and the sound shoots straight to your pussy.
Without hesitation, you let your finger glide through your folds and gather your arousal, while your free hand slides under your shirt to slightly pinch your nipple. You bite your lip to stop you from moaning.
„Fuck, mon amour – yes, just like that“, you hear Charles from inside the bathroom as you start to slowly circle your clit. You imagine him standing in the shower, his hand gently stroking his cock and eyes closed. 
The touch of your finger is gentle, not too much but not enough as the motion makes you squirm. You can almost feel yourself dripping on the fabric of his shorts just from thinking about him. 
You think about the dream you had of him, the way it felt so real. How he kissed your heated skin, the way his fingers slid inside you and you shamelessly moaned into his mouth. 
Your finger slides lower, playing with your opening and as Charles groans in the bathroom about „how good you feel around him“ you slide your digit in. You bite into the pillow, drowning out the moans as you pump your finger in and out, while your other hand slides down to play with your puffy clit, your chest rising with every stroke of the pad of your finger against that spot inside you that just feels right. 
You think about the way his thigh felt on your pussy, how he rocked you back and forth, his hand on your throat and his glossy eyes. Tears well in your eyes from the pleasure you’re giving yourself, your hands slick with your wetness and the shorts probably ruined. But you don’t care. All you can think about is Charles as you slide another finger inside. 
Charles, who's standing a few feet away from you in the shower. Charles, who probably fists his cock, looking absolutely devine as the water runs down his chiseled body, helping him finish off faster. Charles, who you wish would get out of the fucking shower, so he could see the mess you’re making in his clothes, on his bed, on his boat.
Charles, who you wish would take you apart, splitting you on his dick as he tells you how pretty you look. How tight you are for him. How good you feel. 
Charles, who you would let do anything to you. Whatever he wants, in any way he wants. You belong to him, body and soul. 
„Come for me, mon amour, so I can fill you up“, he moans loudly and with one last pump of you fingers you come undone, not for you, but for him – even though he doesn’t know. 
Your breathing is ragged as you try to come to your senses, your fingers still thrusting in and out of your drenched folds at a leisurely pace, prolonging your orgasm. You twitch from being on the edge of overstimulation, but you don’t care. Your mind is consumed by the moaning Charles in the bathroom.
When you hear the shower turn off, you quickly wipe your hands on your shirt and pull the blanket up to your chest. You grab your phone and scroll through a few videos on TikTok as Charles comes out of the bathroom in his shirt and boxer shorts. He rubs his hair dry with a towel and when he sees you lying in bed, he suddenly stops as if struck by lightning.
“You're already in bed,” he says in amazement and hangs the towel over the edge of the dresser. 
“Yep.” You look from your cell phone to him and try to look as relaxed as possible - and not as if you've just come to his moans. 
Charles nods curtly and swallows. “Have you - is the bed comfortable?” he asks, running a hand through his damp hair. 
“Very comfortable,” you answer curtly and smile. You purse your lips. “We should sleep. After all - um - tomorrow we shouldn't show up at your mother's too late."
“Good idea,” he agrees with your suggestion. “Do you need anything else? Do you need something to drink? Are you thirsty?”
Not in the way you think, Charles. 
“I've got everything,” you smile, ”thank you.”
“Then - uh - good night,” Charles says, scratching the back of his neck before walking over to his bed and turning out the light. 
“Good night,” you reply, before turning onto your side and snuggling tighter into the covers. Your heartbeat is still pounding in your ears and you feel like your shirt is sticking to your sweaty body. You close your eyes and try to think about something other than Charles' moans, about what happened yesterday. How he felt under you. How good he felt. 
You press your face into the pillow and squeeze your eyes shut to finally fall asleep, to not feel bad for listening to him making himself feel good. But all you can think about is Charles in the shower, his cock in his hand and the moans on his lips. 
-
When you wake up in the morning, light is already streaming in through the large windows. The headache is thankfully limited as you sit up and take a look at your cell phone. The screen shows half past ten and you sleepily swing your legs over the edge of the bed. 
On bare feet, you pad in the direction where Charles had slept, but his bed is already empty and not a single sound comes from the bathroom. Which is a good sign, no?
You slowly climb the stairs to the upper deck, where you finally catch sight of Charles. He's sitting on the sun bed with his back to you, two cups next to him on the wood and a thermos flask. He's still wearing the shirt from last night, but he's put on a pair of long jogging pants, because it is winter after all. As you join him and take your first step outside the sheltered interior, you feel the cold wind blowing around you. Long trousers would definitely not have been a bad idea. 
“Good morning,” you greet him, rubbing your eyes as you plop down next to him on the sun bed. 
“Good morning,” he replies, pouring coffee into one of the cups before handing it to you. He looks at you and points at the shirt. “What happened there?”
You look down at yourself, confused. There are dark stains on the shirt he lent you to sleep in. Stains from your orgasm - stains from your cum because you wiped your hands on the shirt. “Toothpaste,” you lie quickly, hoping he'll buy the lie. 
“How do you feel?” he asks, without mentioning the ‘toothpaste stains’.
You gratefully take the cup from him before shrugging your shoulders. “Better than expected.” As you take a sip of the coffee, it fills you with warmth and makes you feel a little more awake. “And you?”
“Like I could drive the boat into the harbor without wrecking it,” he grins. “But definitely too bad to put up with Arthur for half the day.”
You smile into your cup. “If he gets too much for you, just let me know. Then I'll come and rescue you and distract him a bit,” you offer jokingly.
“If you do that,” he says, a broad grin spreading across his face, ”it would be the best Christmas present you could have given me.” He also takes a sip from his cup before looking out at the ocean in front of you. “I don't want to go back yet.”
Confused, you look at him. “Why not? Aren't you looking forward to Christmas with your family?”
“Yes, I am,” he replies without hesitation. “But - I don't know.” He purses his lips and exhales deeply. “I have the feeling that everything is different between us when we're in Monaco. That it's so forced, I mean. And I just don't want that.”
You look at him before also looking towards the sea. “Is that why you didn't want to go back yesterday? Because you just needed some more time?”
Charles nods slightly. "I just needed more time with you before the everyday life catches up with us. Before we get back to my family and pretend everything is fine.” His voice sounds sad. 
You turn to him. “But everything is fine between us,” you reply. 
He shakes his head. “Then why doesn't it feel that way? Why does it feel like there's a whole ocean between us when we're in Monaco, but when we're here, we're best friends?”
You can understand what he means. Since your mistake the day before yesterday, the distance between you when you're together in the apartment is so palpable that you could almost cut it with a knife. It's as if the apartment is cold and deserted, even though you've only just moved in. It doesn't feel like a home, but like a place where a friendship has been broken.
“I know what you mean,” you confirm. “I just don't know how we can change that. That we can feel like we're here at sea every day.”
The brunette takes another sip of his coffee. “I was thinking about maybe me moving back to the other apartment,” he confesses. When you look at him in astonishment, he shrugs. “Maybe we're just too close, you know? Maybe - I don't know - maybe physical distance would do us good. Distance that goes a bit further than from your bedroom to the couch.” 
You can't find the words to tell him how stupid you think this idea is, which is why you just stare at him. 
“But I can't,” he continues his thought. “I can't - I don't know -” He takes a deep breath before looking at you. “I don't know how I can be without you anymore. I have no idea what happened to make me so consumed by your presence. Another reason I wanted you to work for me. So that I never have to be apart from you. And that may sound selfish, and I'm certainly crossing every boundary we've established in the course of our friendship, but - ”
“I can't be without you either,” you interrupt him before you even know what you're saying. But it's the truth, however you want to interpret it. 
Charles smiles at you as if a huge weight has fallen from his shoulders. “It feels like an invisible string that keeps drawing me back to you. I can't explain it any other way.”
You nod slightly. “Me neither.” You purse your lips. “I don't want you to move out, or for this distance in the apartment to drive us apart. I want things to stay the way they are. Like this. That we can - I don't know - get drunk and laugh in the evenings, that we can watch movies and have fun with our friends.” You sigh. “Just a normal friendship.”
Your words sound convincing, even though friendship is the last thing you want. The stains on your shirt are proof enough.
“I want that too,” he agrees. “We can manage, can't we? You and me both.”
You nod. “As long as we stay together.”
“As long as we stay together.”
A short time later, you take the boat back and Charles steers it back to its place without any major problems. He leaves the yacht first and when you step onto the wooden jetty ten minutes later, Thomas gives you a friendly smile. 
“I hope your trip was pleasant, Madame?” he asks. 
“It was wonderful. Thank you very much,” you reply and make your way to where Charles collects you again without drawing attention to yourselves. You spend the drive home in silence, but the silence is pleasant. 
“Go and get yourself ready” Charles smiles as you enter the apartment together. “We'll leave as soon as you're done. And don't forget to pack a full overnight bag this time.”
You put your bag in your bedroom and roll your eyes, playfully annoyed. “Is there a dress code for today? Do I have to dress particularly fancy?” you ask him. 
He shakes his head. “Just wear something you feel comfortable in. Maman doesn't think it's so important that we're all dressed up at the table at Christmas and behave as if we're at the prince's table.” 
“All right. I'll have a quick shower and get ready,” you say before disappearing into the bathroom, where you shower, wash your hair and get ready in no time at all, right down to your outfit. In your room, you're standing in front of your wardrobe, examining your clothes, when a dress catches your eye. It's black and comes down to your mid-thigh, with long sleeves that flatter at the wrist. You slip into a pair of dark tights and matching shoes before packing your overnight bag. When you've finished - and checked your bag several times - you leave your room.
“Charles?”
“I'm in the living room,” he calls across the apartment. When you enter the room, he's sitting on the couch. He's wearing black chinos and a white shirt with the top buttons undone. When he sees you, a smile spreads across his handsome face. “You look wonderful.” He gets up from the couch.
Heat shoots into your cheeks. “You don't look too bad yourself, considering your mom doesn't expect fancy clothes,” you joke, slinging your bag over your shoulder. 
Your friend looks down at himself. “This is my chill outfit. I sit on the couch like this every night,” he laughs and reaches for the car keys and his wallet on the coffee table. “Are you ready?”
You nod. “We're ready to go.”
The rickety Renault takes you to Charles' mom's house pretty quickly, and she's already waiting for you when the both of you pull up. 
She embraces you with a smile as you leave the car. “Cherié! Merry Christmas! You look fabulous!”
You return her hug warmly. “Thank you, Pascale. You look wonderful too.”
She briefly puts her hands on your cheeks and smiles at you before turning her attention to her son. “You both look so beautiful!” She kisses Charles first on his left cheek, then on his right. “Now come on, the others are already here.”
As you follow her, you feel Charles' presence next to you. You smile up at him. “Thank you for taking me with you.”
There's a twinkle in his green eyes that makes your knees go weak. “Thank you for putting up with me here.”
Together you enter the house, where Pascale takes your bag from you. She turns to Charles. “You didn't tell me if you'd both be staying here. But Enzo has brought some good wine, so I've prepared your room. Then you don't have to drive home and can both enjoy the evening,” she smiles. "I've also made the bed."
Confused, you look at Charles, who stares after his mother as she climbs the stairs. “The bed?”
“Yep,” he replies curtly, without the slightest hint of emotion in his voice. 
“Bed - singular?” When he doesn't answer, you stand in front of him so that he has to look at you. “Charles, bed - singular?”
Charles' gaze fixes on you. He nods slightly. “Bed - singular.”
751 notes · View notes
sstrwbrryccke · 1 year ago
Text
—bullying him pt.2 | sub choi soobin
part 1 | part 3 | part 4
tags: bully reader x nerd soobin, gn reader, mean reader, sadistic reader, somewhat possessive reader, one-sided crush but not really (reader has feelings too but doesn’t admit it), public humiliation, public orgasms, dubcon, oral (soob.receiving), vibrator (soob.receiving), unhealthy relationship, heavy exhibitionism, kind of cute at the end?
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its a few weeks or maybe months into this weird relationship you two established. or more accurately, you pulling him around and him being at your every beck and call. maybe your relationship with him was a secret, but how downbad he is for you wasn’t. it was real obvious how he looked at you in class, only to look down when you made eye contact with him. a pretty pink blush dusting his cheeks. look at him, getting his hope up and everything. when you call him to your desk during lunch break, he couldn’t help his eagerness, walking past your friends and glancing at you through his bangs. it’s pathetic, really, how excited he gets when you give him attention.
“what… what did you need?” he repeated, barely able to keep himself in check. probably used up all his courage just to choke out those words. your friends stare at the two of you, some holding back their laughter while others were glaring at him. he shrivel under their judging gazes, his tall figure and head slightly slumped as if he was trying to make himself appear smaller. which was impossible, considering how tall he was.
you smile at him, and he lights up a little. “yeah, can you get me a drink at the vending machine?”
he dissipates visibly, a small frown on his plump lips before he nods— you would almost feel bad for him if it weren’t for how cute he looked while sad. he quickly rushed out of the classroom, probably to get away from your friend’s snickering.
soobin’s attraction was no secret even to you. but could you really blame him? just a few days ago, you discovered something shocking (or maybe it was already obvious), not only was soobin a friendless loser (to his own admission), but he also had the biggest, fattest crush on you ever since the start of high school. when he told you, you couldn’t help but grin, this was a gold mine. from then on, it was just so much easier to play with him.
you were slapped out your daze by your friends, they were patting your back while laughing.
“holy shit, you made him your errand boy?” one joked, but you felt a slight rising irritation at their sudden attention towards soobin. it was irrational, seriously, because you really had no problem with it before.
“woah, why the glaring.” another just jested, and you rolled your eyes, packing up your lunch.
“i mean, i would kill for an errand boy. bet he’ll get down on his knees and—“
“shut up. with your face, he doesn’t need to be on his knees to gag” you snap, and perhaps you overreacted. but your friends shrugged it off as a joke, laughing and jabbing at the guy who got insulted
“damn they got you there.”
you put the final item into your bag before standing up and heading for the door.
“yo where you going?”
“rooftop.” you weren’t technically lying.
during school, outside of the classmate context, you pretend to not know him, it was more fun that way. you told him it was because you couldn’t associate with a loser like him, and he meekly nodded. (real reason? teasing him was fun).
it was easy to spot soobin at the vending machine, lamely contemplating which drink you would like the most. so concentrated that he didn’t even notice your figure approaching him until your strong grip was pulling him by the arm. he visibly flinches, wide eyes confused as he stumbles behind you.
“the— you— the drink”
“i wasn’t even thirsty.”
he seemed puzzled at this, but lets you manhandle his tall ass figure anyways (it never ceases to turn him on). you release his arm when you reach the rooftop. he takes a glance at his surroundings before looking back at you. suddenly awkward in his body again, he shifts from one foot to the other while fiddling with the hem of your shirt.
“so uhm… what are we do—“
you roughly kiss him and he shuts up with a small startled noise. you push him harshly into the fence and he yelps into the kiss before having his senses dominated by your eager tongue, forcing into his mouth. he was frozen like always, closing his eyes desperately, pilant under your touch because he had no damn idea what he was doing. after a few seconds, his jittery hands push you off, because he physically couldn’t breathe anymore. he inhales shakily, lips wet with saliva and cheeks tinted red.
you hand lowers and begin to unbutton his shirt, feeling from his chest to his stomach. his skin was always so soft and satisfying to feel. (you once asked if he had a skincare routine and he nodded nervously, asking if you wanted to know) you slid your hand up to his nipple, pinching at one. he trembles at this, hands sweaty and he didn’t know where to place them so he just grips at your shoulders. your hand suddenly palms at his bulge and he jolts, a desperate breathy moan escaping his mouth
“it’s! it’s public! we’re— we’re in public!”
he manages to squeak out, eyes squeezed shut. you stop, a snarky expression on your face. you pull away fully, leaving him with his back flush against the fence. he whimpers softly when he felt your weight lift from his body, eyelids fluttering open to look at you.
“m’kay. i’ll just go then.”
you roll your eyes as you turn your heel.
“wait! wait! i’m sorry. im so sorry. please don’t leave me.”
a grin quirks the edges of your lips as you turn back towards him. hands on hips.
“thought you said we’re in public?”
“yes but… i…” he says between bated breathes, blush deepening.
“you still want me to touch you, don’t you? desperate slut.” you step closer to him, grin on your lips.
he gulps, head lowering until his bangs covered his eyes, but you could see the red tips of his ears. he nods slowly.
“good, then we’re doing it my way.”
you stride confidently to him and he shivers. your hand goes to his pants without hesitation, pulling everything down at once. making his rock hard cock slap against his abdomen, angrily red and leaking. you take it in your hands, pumping it a few times and he cries.
“shush. don’t come.”
you just warn, grasping the head of his cock, hard. his thighs tremble but he nods. you found out, while still in the beginning stages of this weird relationship, that soobin orgasms embarrassingly fast. i guess that’s what you get with a perverted virgin nerd who’s only frame of reference for sex is manga porn. but it wasn’t a bad thing really, you just liked seeing him desperately try to hold it in.
“don’t come until i say so, okay?” you repeat, harshly gripping at his cock again and he whimpers a yes.
without hesitation you kneel down, taking his length into your mouth in one go. you can hear his gasp, but you didn’t need to look up to know he was nervous, you could tell with how his calves and thighs shook. you were only teasing when you called him small earlier, because he was big, big enough to hit the back of your throat. you slowly began to move and he moans softly, so sensitive. he tasted sweaty and salty, but it wasn’t a bad scent. (you made sure he was cleaned up after all.)
you pull your mouth off just up till his tip, your tongue swirling around and digging into his slit while your hands pumped the rest of his length. he cries and thrashes, jittery hands coming up to grasp your hair. but you immediately slap him off, glaring up at him. you were in control, not him. you slide your mouth off his cock and he immediately starts apologising.
“i’m sorry! please don’t be mad, i didn’t mean to! i won’t touch you without permission i—i’m sorry, please don’t stop!”
“instead of worrying about your pathetically small dick, how about you worry about your loud ass moans?”
he quickly clasps his hands over his mouth, ears a bright red, eyes teary. you suck his dick into your warm mouth again and he sobs quietly. his moans came out breathy and squeaky, he’s never been a loud moaner, but it was extra hard to keep it down when his bully was literally going to town on his cock. you were enjoying him like he was a lollipop. your hand creeps up to his ass, one finger slipping into his hole, already loose from the morning. (he stayed over and you took him to school) he doubles over, gasping and squirming, thighs trembling, and you knew he was close before he even whispered it. he shakes his head violently, nearly drooling at the double stimulation— and just before his stomach spasms and he feels his sweet orgasm, you pull off. one hand firmly squeezing the base of his cock, denying his orgasm.
he cries out, eyes wide as he processes the situation. you stand, legs a little shaky due to kneeling for so long, a smile on your lips. when he realises you weren’t going to let him cum, he sobs, tears quick to come down. his bunny eyes glancing at you meekly as if asking why you stopped.
“oh soobin.” you tease, dropping his cock from your grip. “class is about to start soon, you wouldn’t want to ruin your perfect track record, do you?”
he looks at you in a silent fear at what you’re insinuating, but don’t worry, you were far meaner than that. you pull his pants further down, digging into your pocket and showing him the vibrating bullet you bought especially for him. more tears fall down and you just chuckle.
it didn’t take much for you to squeeze the bullet in. but he was squirming and whimpering the whole way through, shaking his head and looking at you so pitifully.
“you’re… you’re so mean.” his voice cracks, bottom lip trembling.
you wipe his tears with a smirk, pulling up his pants and buttoning his shirt, his hard-on uncomfortably pressing against the fabric.
“yet look who’s turned on.”
☆★☆
in class it wasn’t any better, he was clearly ruffled, his hair tousled, collar undone and eyes red from previously crying. one of his legs was shaking unrelentlessly as he sits down. wincing when he feels the chair press up against the vibrator.
he was hyperaware how each movement causes the bullet to shift. soobin tries his best to reduce the friction and calm his erection down, but oh boy were you mean. just when he thinks he’s got it handled, you prove him wrong.
because the moment the teacher walked in, the torment began. you would periodically turn on the vibrator, making him jolt in his seat and hit his knee against his desk. alerting everyone to him as he lowers his head in embarrassment, whispering lightly that he was fine when the teacher asked. he came immediately with the stimulation. it was even worse when he was given a question to answer, you were unrelenting, turning it on to the highest setting and making his thighs shake uncontrollably. it took all his willpower and more to not burst out crying and moaning in the middle of class.
“choi soobin? soobin? soobin?”
he jolts from his daze, fists clenching painfully hard, nails digging into his palm. the teacher has been trying to get his attention for the past minute. a few students around him whisper and he quivers. glancing back at you for a second, catching your smug look, hands in your pockets; before he faces back at the teacher.
“mr choi, are you okay?”
no, he was not alright. he had busted into his pants for the 3rd time now and you weren’t even going to give him a break!
“yep, perfectly okay.”
the teacher looks doubtful and god soobin just wishes she would stop talking. he really shouldn’t be thinking like this about his favourite teacher. but please shut up and stop asking already!
“are you sure? you’ve looked uneasy this entire lesson.” and he wanted to dig a hole in the ground to die in shame. he bites his lips hard and you turn down the vibration. is this salvation? are you being nice for once?
“i’m sur —ck.” he bit down on his words, because if he didn’t he would’ve moaned in front of everyone in class. you turned it to the highest, and he really just came in his pants in front of the teacher. he was so overstimulated, it hurt to come, his whole body clenched hard so he could keep his trembling down.
thinking quick on his feet, he covered his stumble with coughing. “i — i may be sick.” he stammers, never has he been a good liar, and you snicker at his cover-up. the teacher however seemed to believe him, no reason to doubt the obedient straight A student after all.
“you should rest when you get home.”
☆★☆
class ends officially with the bell. the teacher dismisses the students with a quick reminder of the homework, not as if anyone was listening. soobin somehow managed to last through the whole class. and thank god was it the last class of the day, otherwise he might really have died. he slumps over his desk in a big sigh of relief. he would pack his things and rush out the door as soon as possible, but— he was afraid to even stand up and move. he didn’t want to look down at his crotch, he knew he had thoroughly soiled his pants and it probably leaked onto the seat.
you waited with him, putting every item extra slow into your bag. when the teacher had left the room, telling you two to lock the classroom behind you. that’s when you moved.
you stand in front of him, dangling the vibrator remote in his face. he fiddles with his fingers, unsure on what to say. at least you seemed happy?
“let’s see the mess you made.”
you slide him with his chair away from his desk, exposing his spread legs and like he thought, his crotch was wet with come. it was a terrible (and arousing) sight, there was a huge wet patch on his crotch and a small puddle on the wooden chair. he has never come this much before and you never overstimulated him this much either. all of this and you didn’t even touch or embrace him! you were so so so mean to him, and he felt tears fall again, his bunny eyes looking up at you in humiliation.
he was just so cute, you couldn’t help it. you wiped his tears with your sleeve, cooing at him.
“soobin, are you embarrassed?”
he nodded, beginning to whine as he sobbed more. embarrassed is an understatement, he felt so degraded. but it turned him on so much. he was starting to think he was masochistic, or maybe that’s just how downbad he was for you.
“you were so obedient, you want a reward? what reward do you want?”
you wipe each tear as it falls out, gently cradling his face. he pondered for a second, shaking his head.
“i don’t know…”
you chuckle, pulling him up and his legs shakes, you put his face in the crook of your neck and hugged his waist. he slumps over you and you rub his back. damn. this was comfortable, he never thought his bully would give a single shit about his feelings and you never thought you would ever comfort him.
why did you even bother to comfort him? it didn’t mean you tolerated him or anything. he was just cute that’s why you let him hug you, telling him he did a good job in his ear. there was no reason behind it, like how there was no reason behind you walking him back to your house, hand in his hand. (only because he was too jittery and wouldn’t stop shaking)
“lets go on a date tomorrow.” you deadpan. nothing behind those words, nope, nothing at all. just a reward for his good behaviour.
he looks at you with stupidly cute hopeful eyes, ignoring the uncomfortable squench in-between his thighs.
“you promise?”
“promise. you big baby.”
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tremendouscreationperson · 3 months ago
Text
Part 2 of this
Next part here
Stan hadn't been able to help it. He had asked for your address to keep in touch.
He was able to now.
Able to send and receive letters. There had been a few instances when he was on the road that he dialed your number and your ma or pa answered, he had pretended to be a wrong number for them.
He was too chicken to talk to Ford why did he think he could talk to you?
But letters were different.
He could do letters.
You'd explained how you moved to California for college and loved the area so much you decided to stay. He had known you wanted to go to college but the three of you had always said you'd stay near New Jersey.
He wished so much that he kept in touch but his life was shit. He made things shit. He was shit.
His dad had been right.
He wasn't even worth turning up to a funeral for.
Stan paused mid sentence. Maybe he shouldn't be exchanging letters with you, maybe he should just stay away.
But a letter couldn't hurt.
He wouldn't have to change his voice or wear gloves or pretend he had smarts.
He could relax.
If something seemed off in the letter he could restart it.
And so the correspondence continued.
~~
It took a year and a half before you suggested coming down to see Mr Mystery himself.
Ford explained that his Uni grant had stopped so he was relying on good ol' fashioned tours of his labs to make money, only the real science didn't interest the resistance so he had to be creative.
You were sure he bored his patrons to death by explaining the rays and dials and tubing he had before coming up with the idea to sell to his clientele.
If only Stan was here. He'd be able to come up with good monsters and ghouls, just like in school.
You were able to find some sketches he gifted you (from a comic he was determined to publish) to send in your letter. Hopefully Ford could use them for ideas. It was a little bittersweet to part with them but ultimately it was for the greater good and you could always ask for them back.
So, now, here you were merely proposing a meet up but it felt... Well it felt wrong? Yeah, Ford and yourself were mates but Stanley was always the glue that kept you together.
Despite the mixed emotions you pushed on and signed your name before shoving it into an envelope and sending it off.
~~
The journey to 'Gravity Falls' - brilliant name - was not awful.
It took a solid 6 hours of driving but you knew it would be worth it. Knew it had to be done.
You would keep your friendship with Ford alive for Stan. You'd be the honorary sibling.
Once you were in Oregon you pulled up the map he had sent and followed the instructions he scratched onto it. 'Don't turn by the Horse Scarecrow go further to the Pig', 'There's a big boulder by the town sign be careful, I swear it moves', 'left by the tree that looks like Dolly'.
They were odd instructions but they were perfect. The town was definitely unique.
It was 9 when you finally made it to the 'Mystery Shack' and you had to admit it was cute. There were homemade arrows pointing in all directions and a copious amount of question marks dotted about.
The sign on the door read "closed" but you could see at the back there were lights on.
Climbing out of your car you twaddled over to the back door, rucksack slung on your shoulder, the soft sounds of a TV wafted through the door as you knocked.
The TV stopped and you could hear wood creaking as Ford approached. The door opened and revealed him wearing a suit with a large question mark tie.
He smiled down at you, gesturing for you to enter. "Hi."
"Hey." Your eyes scanned the room, mostly homemade wooden furniture with the odd trinkets or pop of colour. There were a few sciency looking gadgets but otherwise this was a humble home. "It's really cute in here."
Ford scratched the back of his neck. "Thanks."
The silence was slightly weird but you anticipated that it may be a bit weird at first. Just have to push through it.
"Have you eaten?" He asked.
"No but to be honest I'm zonked." You chuckled. "Long journey."
Ford clasped his hands. "Of course, well, you can have my room. I'll take the couch."
"Uhm, I can't kick you out of your room." You didn't realise that he would have to vacate his bed for you to visit. "I'll stay on the couch."
"You take the bed, I won't hear anything else about it." He added the last part as your mouth opened to argue.
~~
Staying with Ford was odd.
He was more casual than you remembered.
Gave fewer lectures.
But otherwise your stay was pleasant.
You helped him in the Shack; printing t-shirts, manning the register, flicking the lights on and off, making spooky noises when needed. It was fun.
You enjoyed your time here because it was silly. You were able to let loose whilst watching some suckers gape at a wax figure or a crudely put together unicorn.
After leaving it really didn't take long to decide on coming back.
Spending every other weekend up in Oregon became your routine. Yeah, the drive was shitty but it was worth it.
Ford loved it. Or well.. if he didn't he didn't say anything.
Eventually you were gifted a cot upstairs and you considered staying for longer.. perhaps even for an indefinite amount of time. It was quite conflicting wanting to stay with Ford.
You still loved Stan. You'd always love him but you saw so much of Stan in Ford it was ludicrous.
The way he'd swindle and trick, his Mr Mystery persona, and whenever a patron was a little handsy, the way he'd threaten them.
Ford never did that. He outwitted people. He was the brains.
But maybe that changed in the time you spent apart. His father had made the two of them box and from Ford's ears he'd kept up the sport.
~~
Through all your time at the shack there was only one thing that truly bothered you. It was a teeny tiny detail but it drove you insane.
Ford never removed his gloves.
He was always wearing them.
Everyday, every night, every meal, everywhere.
You'd seen his hands before.
Everyone back home had.
They were just hands!
Maybe he didn't want the town to think they were real, wanted them to think he was a fraud because being a freak was worse?
It didn't matter in the grand scheme of things but it was agitating you.
~~
"Put teeth on it." You suggest, sitting on the floor with your back leaning against the wall.
Ford made a face but nodded, prying the crows beak apart. He wandered around the shop, opening cupboards and drawers. "I'm sure I had som-"
"The blue cabinet." You pointed.
Ford opened it and voilà he produced a jar of teeth. You didn't bother to ask if they were real, either of the answers would be weird. Yes = weird. No, where did he get such realistic teeth? = Weird.
You observed Ford positioning the teeth, he waited for your approval which you gave and began gluing them.
It was late in the evening and he had promised the town and its tourists something big. So crow with teeth and a skunks tail it was.
He was precise with the glue gun but still stopped to talk with you, ever the gentleman. How had their father made them?
You hated their dad with a passion.
He was an absolute asshole.
You'd tell him that, too.
He didn't even come to the funeral. You'd assumed he had passed but Ford told you he didn't want to come. His parents were starting afresh with Shermie.
No, you wouldn't include Caryn on that. She was lovely but Filbrick...
Filbrick was something else entirely. In fact, you remember first meeting him, he glanced up at you over his newspaper before returning to the words. Stan had reassured you that that type of behaviour meant he liked you but you knew differently. You knew, even at age 10, Stan was covering for his father.
Ford hadn't experienced that. He never knew what it was to disappoint his father and you felt for Stanley. You were even present once when Ford tried to explain that Stan seemed to take short cuts and maybe that was why Filbrick was disappointed. It was later in the week when Stan confessed that he had to take short cuts, of course he did, because how else could he possibly keep up?
"Ah shit!"
Your eyes shot back to Ford who was shaking his left hand. Quickly standing to assist. "What happened?"
"Just a burn, it'll be fine." Ford brushed you off, resuming the task at hand.
You scoffed. "Ford, take the glove off, you idiot."
"It's fine." He insisted.
"You're sticking to things!"
Ford grumbled but didn't reply.
"I've seen your hands before. There's no one else around. Why are you being weird?"
"I'm not weird." He huffed turning away from you. "Don't look."
You rolled your eyes before turning away. "Fucking hell, if I didn't know any better I'd say you were Stan pretending to be Fo-"
It hit you.
All the stupid chats, all the late night beers, all the jokes, the lame costumes, the zero science talk, the scams, the lies, everything.
Your body had turned without your brain catching up and you were face to face with a Stan. Not 100% sure which one.
Stan's eyes were wide, gloved hand clutching his ungloved one. You took three steps to him, invading his personal space, to place your own hand on top of his. Slowly you tugged on it and revealed the five digits.
Wh-what did this mean?
This was Stan?
Stanley?!
Where was Ford?
Why?
Why did Stan need- what was he doi- where wa-
His palm gripped yours. "I can explain."
.
.
.
Part 3
@breadandbiscuits @aratheegreat @sp00kyfr0gs @doggosnoodles12 @50shadesofwinchesters @living-in-a-veil
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munsonsmixtapes · 5 months ago
Note
Ok so, Eddie being possessive but wanting to mask it until he can't no more and when he gets to the house he ravishes you but the only thing that keeps him going is if you tell him all the things you like about him and how he makes you feel like the only 1
Um, yes, absolutely!
Eddie Munson x fem!reader
cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) Eddie is a little possessive, jealousy
The bar was hazy as Eddie entered it. You were over at the bar, sipping on a margarita that you had just ordered. He made a beeline for you, weaving his way through all of the dancing bodies to get to you. A huge smile broke out on his face as he got closer, but that quickly dropped once he was you were talking to someone. And not just anyone. Steve. Fucking Steve.
If Eddie was going to say anything about Steve, it was that he had game. He could get anyone he wanted with a snap of a finger and Eddie was becoming afraid that you would have left with him and he couldn't have even blamed you. He wouldn't have. He was a very pretty man and shit, if Steve had hit on him, he wouldn't have hesitated to take the invitation.
Eddie's hand rested lightly on your back as he tried to swallow his jealousy like a large pill that wouldn't go down properly. You turned to him and gave him a warm smile before turning back to Steve who was in the middle of telling you a story.
Eddie grumbled something to himself as he sat to the left of you, deciding to order a beer if this was what the night was going to be like.
Despite your trying to keep your situationship with Eddie a secret, Steve was very much aware of what was going on, even going as far as flirting with you a little bit to get Eddie to admit his feelings for you that he was very well aware of his friend having.
He watched Eddie as he slowly reached up and fixed the strap of your tank top that had fallen down, his warm, honey eyes looking into yours as he put on a smile.
"Oh, thanks, Stevie," you smiled and Eddie swore that he was going to throw up right then and there. What did Steve have that Eddie didn't? Okay, maybe he had the flirting down, but being awkward was part of Eddie's charm.
"No problem," Steve winked then stood up from his stool, fixing his jean jacket as he did so. "I'll see you later, hon," he gave your shoulder a squeeze then turned to Eddie, giving him a nod. "Munson."
"Munson," Eddie mocked under his breath as soon as Steve was out of earshot. He then chugged the rest of his beer, knowing that he was going to need it in order to flirt with you. You turned to him, letting your strap fall once again, turning your shoulder to him as if to tease him.
He hated what you did to him. That you were able to make him feel so possessive, something that he never liked to be because you were never really his. Just a little fling that was bound to end sooner or later. But maybe if he told you just how he felt, you would admit that you wanted more too.
He leaned over, pressing a lingering kiss to your shoulder before fixing the strap, his lips making their way up your jaw, pressing a final kiss at the corner of your mouth. He then pulled away, and got off his stool, offering you his hand.
"Oh, are you finally going to be a gentleman?" You asked and he just chuckled, pulling you to his chest as he leaned down, his lips right by your ear.
"Oh sweetheart," he chuckled. "We both know I'm not a gentleman. I thought we settled that last night."
"I think I need a refresher," you replied and felt your cheeks get hot at his words and he took you by the hand, leading you to his van. He peeled out of his parking lot and sped down the street, desperate to have his way with you once again, never getting tired of it.
He pulled up to the trailer and put it in park before getting out and rounding the hood to help you out, but you were already inside, the door slamming behind you. He raced inside after you, grabbing hold of your wrist and turned you around to face him.
Without a word, he pressed his lips to yours taking no time to slip his tongue into your mouth, swirling it around yours as he pushed you back towards his room.
This wasn't unlike every other time you got tangled up in the sheets, but you couldn't help but notice that was something different about it in some way. He was more rough with you, grabbing onto you like you were going to disappear in that moment.
He pushed you down onto his bed, seeing you splayed out all for him, making his already hardened cock even harder. He wanted you to his and his alone. The thought of you even looking in Steve's direction made him see red.
Eddie leaned down, pressing a brief kiss to your lips before diving into your neck, peppering the spot in kisses.
"Can't believe you were with him," he said, not able to look you in the eyes as he admitted it. “You’re mine, you know that?”
"And I can't believe you were jealous," you responded and he was quick to pull back to look at you, not liking how easy you were able to clock that fact. “And yes, of course I know that. If looks could kill, Steve would have been dead." Eddie's cheeks went pink at that. "And there's no need to be upset, pretty boy," you pat his cheek lightly.
"And why's that?" He leaned closer, knowing exactly why, but wanting to hear you say it. You could that teasing look on his face, his eyelashes batting in an innocent manner.
"You know why,” you quirked any eyebrow.
"Tell me, doll.”
"I like you."
"Yeah? And what do you like about me? For every reason, I’ll give you a kiss.” That sounded very tempting.
“I like your hair,” you told him and he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your lips just like he promised. “It’s so curly and I love how it’s always messy.” He pressed two more kisses to your lips then pulled away, a goofy grin making its away upon his lips.
“What else?” He asked, bringing his bottom lip between his teeth.
“You’re sweet. Probably the sweetest man I’ve ever met.”
“Yeah?” Another kiss. “Sweeter than Harrington?”
“You don’t have to be jealous, Eddie,” you said again, batting your lashes.
“I don’t? But-”
“I’m yours, Munson. All yours.” You leaned up and slowly pulled off your tank top and Eddie’s eyes widened as he realized that you hadn’t been wearing a bra underneath. “Go ahead,” you took his hand and pulled it up to your breast. “Have your way with me.”
“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he responded, pressing his lips to yours again, this time rougher, letting his tongue slip into your mouth, letting it swirl around yours before taking off his own shirt.
“Yeah? And what are you going to do about it? Gonna finally call me yours?”
“You bet your ass I am,” replied as his hands moved down to unbutton your pants. He pulled them down in one swift motion and gasped as he realized that he wasn’t wearing any underwear either.
“Look at you. Wet as fuck and it’s all for me.” He then reached for a condom out of his drawer that was attached to his bedside table and removed his jeans and boxers before rolling the condom onto his cock, taking no time to pound it into you.
You moaned so loudly that Eddie had to cover your mouth so you wouldn’t wake up Wayne. You looked up at him, listening to still very much in your eyes.
“Gotta be quiet for me, doll. Can you be quiet?” You nodded and Eddie removed his hand moving it back down to your hip, his fingers digging into your skin as he continued to fuck into you.
“Fuck, Eddie,” you said, lowering your voice. “You don’t have to be so possessive, you know. I mean, I like it. A lot. But you don’t have to be jealous of Steve or anyone else. I want you.”
In that moment, everything stopped. The motions, your low moans. Eddie looked down at you, a smile kicking up at the corners.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, fuck yeah,” he nodded, pounding into you once more, watching your body move with his, eating up the way he could make you come undone.
You were already seeing stars and he could tell, loving how quick he could always get you there, but now he could do it any time he wanted since you now belonged to each other, attached to each other in more ways than one.
“Holy shit,” a scream ripped through you and you were no longer able to hold it in. Your back arched as you gripped the sheets below, followed by another scream. Once you came down from your orgasm, Eddie helped you lay back down on the mattress.
He then pulled out and disposed of the condom before collapsing onto the bed beside you. He pulled you to his chest and pressed a kiss to your forehead.
“You and me, doll?” He asked.
“Yeah, Eddie,” you nodded. “You and me.”
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cutielando · 15 days ago
Text
mad m4x | m.v.
synopsis: in which he bags it in Vegas
a/n: based on this request! i know it's probably kind of shit, but i genuinely had no idea how to make it better than this :((
my masterlist
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Vegas.
The place where all of your dreams can come true.
At least, that's what it felt in those moments for both you and Max.
You hadn't had high hopes coming into the weekend, especially due to the fact that the car hasn't been performing well enough to fight for both championships.
"How are you feeling about today?" you had asked him as you watched him get ready in his driver's room.
He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.
"I don't even know what to say. I hope I can outscore Lando finally close this chapter, but I don't think I have the car under me to do it" he admitted, and you could hear the frustration in his voice.
You nodded, pursing your lips in sympathy.
"I know it's hard, but I believe in you. You're so much more than the car, babe, if anyone is able to do it, it's you" you said, rubbing soothing circles on his back and resting your chin against his shoulder.
He sighed and nodded, taking your hand into his.
"I'll fight for it until the last moment" he promised.
You nodded, kissing his cheek a couple of times.
You knew he had it in him, and that he was going to deliver.
He always did.
♡♡♡♡♡
He did it.
True to his word, he crossed the finish line, even if it was not in the position he had hoped for, but he still won the championship.
He brought it home.
The walk, or sprint rather, towards the end of the pitlane where he was getting out of the car allowed time for the tears that had build up in your eyes to freely flow down your cheeks, making you a walking mess.
"MAX!" you called out once you were within earshot of him, just as he took off his helmet and balaclava.
He smiled once he saw you coming and extended his arms, bracing for the impact of your body colliding with his.
"I did it, I did it" he chanted in your ear, his arms holding tightly onto your waist as he spun you around.
You laughed, nodding as you rested your head into the crook of his neck, your arms holding tightly onto his neck.
"I'm so fucking proud of you" you said.
He slowly set you down on the ground, but his arms didn't let up for a second. He buried his head into your shoulders, inhaling your sweet scent like he needed it to breathe.
Letting out a big sigh, his whole body slacked, every ounce of tension and stress gone from his muscles.
He had fought so hard, so hard to stay on the top even when his car and mechanics failed him, after everyone had turned against him, he was finally free of everything. Because he had proven, once again, why he was among the best.
You pulled away slightly, his arms still tightly holding onto your waist. You took his face into your hands and brought him down to your level, pressing your lips against his.
The kiss was fast-paced, rushed and maybe sloppy, but it was also filled with nothing but the immense love and pride you carried in your heart for him.
Hundreds of camera clicks went off all around you, but none of them mattered. It was just you and Max, in your own little bubble, away from everyone else.
"I love you" he whispered against your lips, making you erupt into a wide smile.
"I love you too. Now go, your team is waiting for you" you said, pecking his lips one more time before pulling away and shoving him towards his team.
He smiled at you one more time before he threw himself at them, laughing and smiling his heart out.
♡♡♡♡♡
It was several hours later, long after the Red Bull dinner Max had hosted finished, that the two of you found yourselves tangled in bed, naked together under the covers.
You had indulged yourselves in some celebratory sex after getting back, letting go of every worry and just enjoying each other.
You were laying with your head on Max's chest, tracing imaginary drawings with the tip of your index fingers across his abdomen.
His hands were tangled in your hair, his other hand resting next to his body.
"How are you feeling?" you asked, your voice soft and quiet as to not disturb the peaceful atmosphere around you.
He fell silent for a little while, trying to gather his thoughts and trying to put into words everything he was feeling in those moments.
"Strangely, I feel very at peace" he said, making your eyebrows shoot up.
That was, by far, the last thing that you had expected him to say.
"I wasn't expecting that answer, to be honest" you said, chuckling a little.
He chuckled as well, tightening the hold he had on you.
"I feel happy that the whole WDC debate is over and I don't have to worry about it anymore. I'm happy that I managed to achieve everything I've wanted. I'm happy that I'm here with you. What more could a man want?" he explained, making you hum.
He had a point, of course.
Max has always been focused on family above racing. Ever since the two of you started dating, he had made it his life's mission to prioritize you and your family above everything else.
Which is why his confession made you feel that much better about his win. The fact that, despite the grand meaning behind his achievement, he still valued just being with you.
"You've just won your 4th World Championship title and you're happy you're here with me? I'm always going to be here, you're not going to be winning championships forever, babe" you said, sitting up from his chest and resting your head on your hand.
He smiled, gazing up into your eyes lovingly.
"I don't care about the championships, the titles, the wins. The only thing I really care about is you and our family" he said, his hand coming to rest on your cheek.
"You're to sweet for your own good. I'm proud of you, do you know that?" you smiled, biting your lip as you stared at the man who had hung your moon and stars.
"I know, babe" he whispered, leaning up to peck your lips.
And so, tangled up in the comfort of your hotel room, you celebrated his title in the simplest of ways, just by spending time with each other.
Because that's what you loved the most.
Just being with each other.
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princessbrunette · 11 months ago
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imagine rafe not being able to spend the night and your house bc he has like early business to do and you’re just so whiny begging him not to leave like clinging to his leg and he’s like “jesus christ i’ll be back tmr 😒” but at the same time he’s like 😊 bc it’s nice to feel needed
─── ⋆⋅🛼⋅⋆ ──
you were clingy and you knew it. instead of pretending like you weren’t, you learnt to fully embrace it. no matter how much rafe tried to act like he didn’t, you knew he loved it deep down. it made him feel wanted, something not many other people in his life offered him.
he pats his keys in his back pocket as he slowly makes his way to your front door, lips parted as he thinks over everything he had on his person when he arrived, making sure to leave none of it behind. it was bad today, you really needed him. after the day you had, you wanted nothing more than to fall asleep on his chest, feeling safe and just… better. you cry, pathetic and hiccupy as you keep a clasp on his hand and he lets you hold it all the way to the door before pulling himself out of your grasp.
“okay, hey— can’t keep cryin’ like this baby you knew i wasn’t stayin’ over tonight because i told you. gave you time to… emotionally prepare n’shit. i got business to do early tomorrow, remember?” he raises his eyebrows, trying to reason with you. his voice is stern but he’s mopping up your tears with his thumb anyway.
“i know but i had a bad day, i just want you to sleep here!” you sob, clutching over his wrists as his hands clean you up and he shakes his head, gently removing them.
“look i’m — i’m sorry, alright? you know i wanna stay here, more than anything. but i’m a man now, yeah? i’m in charge of handlin’ business n’i got people relying on me. sometimes you— you have to make the hard choice, and this is one of those times.” he lectures you, so you do what any reasonable human being would do, and lower yourself to the ground, wrapping yourself around his leg.
“you’re not going.” you swipe your tear on his pants and he sighs in exasperation, trying to wiggle you off to no avail.
“jesus fuckin’ christ, are you kidding? get up, hey—” he tries to walk, but you cling him tighter, coming with him and he stops again. “let go and listen to me. m’gonna count to three, don’t let me get there.” he lifts up a finger and you unlatch yourself, staying on the ground in a ball. rate lowers himself into a squat, expression stern and yet yielding. “alright. you’re gonna calm down, yeah? i will sit with you until you fall asleep, and it better be within the hour or i’m just gonna leave. get up, c’mon. go brush your teeth.” he stands, giving you a little nudge with his foot and you hop up, happy enough with the outcome of him staying a little longer and run upstairs, not waiting for him to follow.
he huffs out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head. “little shit.” he whispers, following you. once you’re all in bed, ready — he comes and sits beside you, mopping up the last remaining tears that stain your face with the backs of his knuckles. “okay. i’m here. now go to sleep.”
“kiss, rafe.” you pucker your lips and he indulges you, bringing you a nice long one to satisfy you before pulling back.
“close your eyes.” he sighs tiredly and you do so, but not before switching off your lamp. he places a hand on your back over your pyjama shirt, rubbing slow circles as if tries to silently coax you to sleep faster so he can get going, smiling secretly to himself at your shenanigans.
he won’t admit it, but he did feel really sad to go, and even considered staying— but he knew he had to make the responsible choice, so with one final look, he left you in your bedroom fast asleep.
─── ⋆⋅🛼⋅⋆ ──
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hxney-lemcn · 7 months ago
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Cliche Trope — Overblots x gn! reader
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summery: your cliche romantic trope
tw: mentions of death (Malleus, Idia), slight angst (Jamil, Azul)
a/n: kinda back, idk this gave me mini inspriation
wc: 1.5k (~200 each character)
Master List
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❥ Riddle Rosehearts — Childhood Sweethearts
You knew Riddle since you both were young. Even if his mother kept him locked away for most of his childhood, you managed to worm your way into some of his fondest memories. Unlike Trey or Che’nya, for some reason Riddle found himself floundering around you. At first he waved it away as finding you annoying. You would continue to pester him, distracting him from his studies, making him imagine what it would be like to play with you and Trey when he was stuck in his room. He hated when you brought him treats and trinkets. A weed of a flower one day, or a malformed cupcake another (you had made it with Trey). Whenever Riddle saw you he couldn’t help but scowl at how carefree you seemed, how much fun you seemed to be having, but he would never admit his jealousy. But it was hard for him to aim his anger towards you, not when you tried to include him to the best of your ability, not when you smiled so sweetly at him, and not when his heart stuttered when you were finally able to drag him away from the shackles of his mother.
❥ Leona Kingscholar — Enemies to Lovers
You hated Leona and he hated you. It was mutual. You wouldn’t have given two shits about him if it weren’t for the fact that he did absolutely nothing to help with your project. You both had been partnered for it, and he hadn’t even said a word to you the entire two weeks you had been tasked to complete it. At first you didn’t care, used to being forced to cover your ass in a project that no one else wanted to work on, but every time you saw that lion laze about you couldn’t help but feel peeved. You had tried to ask him to contribute, but he only waved you off with a glare. You could’ve just ended it at that, avoiding him for the rest of your school career and then never seeing him again, but life has a cruel way of making jokes. He had been your seatmate the next year, and although he skipped a lot, you loathed having to sit so close. Yet, over time, you found yourself growing fond of the prince. You weren’t sure why your banter with him had become something you looked at fondly, but you didn’t want to dive too deep into your feelings for Leona.
❥ Azul Ashengrotto — Love Potion
It was a complete accident. Multiple things going wrong at once. You and Deuce had made the wrong potion, and you accidently ingested a small dose. It wasn’t exactly the typical love potion, it was a potion that enhanced your feelings for whomever you felt an attraction towards. And since the amount you ingested wasn’t a typical serving amount, the effects were dim. You couldn’t tell you were under the effects of the potion, just that you had the strong urge to visit Azul. You felt a bit desperate to see him again, and you weren’t sure why the tug to see him had grown so rapidly. You gave into your urges, visiting the Mostro Lounge after classes ended. You couldn’t find it in yourself to be ashamed at the way you perked up when Azul made his rounds around the lounge, checking in on guests, or the way your eyes sparkled as he slowly approached your own seat. The tweels watched on in amusement, somehow knowing of your condition before you. And as you two conversed, Azul slowly started noting the symptoms of the very potion you had ingested, and a sense of disappointment washed over him. He couldn’t help but wish you truly felt that way towards him. 
❥ Jamil Viper — Love/Hate
You were absolutely annoying. Like a persistent fly that refused to leave no matter how many times Jamil shooed you away. You’d make a mess of the kitchen trying to ‘help’ him, you’d do the laundry which ruined Kalim’s expensive clothes, you’d clean using the wrong products. Your help hindered him, and he wished you’d just stop. He had no idea why you bothered him so much, and you were just another headache that added on to his current migraine. So why did he feel terrible when you finally stopped bothering him? Why did he start to regret how he snapped at you, hissing terrible things that almost made you cry. Why did he feel his heart shatter at the downtrodden look you gave him as you apologized and turned tail? He’ll admit that he shouldn’t have snapped, it was a lapse in judgment that he thought he had better control over. If he snapped that way at Kalim it would be over for him, but you weren’t Kalim or even a noble, so he shouldn’t care. Yet Jamil found himself missing your presence, your embarrassed look as he corrected your mistakes, missed the way you followed his instructions to learn how to properly clean clothes or cook, the way you smiled so brightly when you did something correctly…perhaps he liked you more than he initially realized. 
❥ Vil Schoenheit — Fake Relationship
Vil Schoenheit was one of the top bachelors, and he was finding the title to be a chore to deal with. The media would constantly spectate on his love life (not that he really had one), and his fans kept going crazy about shipping him with other stars. It was taxing, and although he understood why his team wanted to keep him single, he wanted people to focus on his work more than his personal life. Although dating would bring a mirage of cameras, stories, and rumors, they would dissipate just as quickly and hopefully people would focus more on his movies than silly rumors. Which is where you come in. As his friend, he sought you out for the star role right by his side. He felt the most comfortable around you so why not? As he trained you on how to handle the media, as the fake dates started, and the fake love you both played so well continued, the lines started to blur. Soon, Vil found himself doting on you behind closed doors as well, taking care of you and longing to keep that beautiful smile on your face. How his heart fluttered when you’d congratulate him after a shoot, handing him a water bottle and doting on him as well. He had come to a realization not long after that he had fallen for you, and planned on turning your fake relationship into something real. 
❥ Idia Shroud — Arranged Marriage
Arranged marriages weren’t common in the modern age. Yet you found yourself admitting to your peers that you were already engaged. What surprised them even more was just who you were engaged to. From a young age, your and Idia’s parents had set up the arrangement. Your family got more out of it than the Shroud’s, but they still found benefit in the set up. You had grown up with Idia, your parents finding it beneficial if you both got along. As you both grew up together, you had been through a lot. You were there for Idia when his younger brother died, and from then on you both had become inseparable. Although you despise your parents for selling you off from a young age, you could never hate Idia. The two of you would stay locked in his room, playing games, watching anime, waiting for merch release, you name it. Idia on the other hand had no idea what he’d do without you. He also loathes the idea of getting married for money or family ties, but he’s grateful it meant he met you…and he doesn’t despise the thought of becoming your husband, but he thinks you deserve better. The both of you were put in a shitty situation, but you both had ended up loving the other regardless. If only Idia could give you the happily ever after you truly deserved. 
❥ Malleus Draconia — Reincarnated Lovers
Fae are known to live many lifetimes longer than humans. This is one of the many reasons why they tend to stay away from humans. To fall for a human is known as a tragedy for fae, as they will long outlive their partner. For Malleus, he didn’t hesitate to fall for such a strange, but lovely human. He knew the fae’s history well, but you were not like the humans from old tales he’d heard. You were simply lovely, and Malleus knew that you were the one. The only one he’d ever love. A shame, since your lifespan was so much shorter compared to his. When you passed, he fell into a depressive state, everything reminded him of you and he didn’t know what to do. He loved you so greatly, but you were no longer with him. That was until he spotted you again, you weren’t the same. Your favorites had changed, you looked slightly different, but your aura was still there. He had found you again, and again, and again. He would continue to find you until he turned to ash, and even then, in his next life, he knows he’d find you again. You were his one true love, and he was yours. Although it could still be seen as a tragedy, to watch the one you love die over and over again, Malleus wouldn’t change it for the world, because no matter what, he knows you’ll find each other again, because you were his and he was yours.
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keeryhours · 14 days ago
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wildflower chapter four - eddie munson
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Eddie Munson x Henderson! female reader, Steve Harrington x reader
Main Masterlist
Series Masterlist
Eddie Munson Masterlist
Summary:
Eddie shows up drunk.
Warnings:
Drinking, Eddie being a perv, angst, secret baby
Word Count: 3k
A/N:
Shout out to @punkrockmlchael for the help with this one!
It was a week later, and Eddie hadn’t seen or heard from you again. Not that he had tried. He knew what Wayne thought, what he thought, too, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He couldn’t bring himself to pick up the phone, or drive to your apartment and demand to talk. He was a coward.
Now, he was drinking again, just like he’d done every day since he’d found out.
“Eddie’s here!”
The band cheered as Eddie walked into The Hideout, clearly after already pre gaming at home. He was already swaying as he approached the bar where Gareth, Jeff, and Doug sat, and they noticed immediately.
“Rough night?” Gareth asked with an eyebrow raised as Eddie sat down next to him, ordering a round of shots.
“You have no fuckin’ idea,” Eddie mumbled, downing a shot the second they were placed in front of him. Gareth reached for one but Eddie waved him off. “These are for me, fucker.”
Gareth backed off, hands up defensively. “Okay, okay. What’s up with you?”
Eddie downed three more shots in succession. Jeff and Doug were staring at him, too - sure, Eddie liked to drink, but not like this. Something was obviously very wrong.
“Talk to us, man,” Jeff added.
Eddie ordered some more shots. He would need them. “I got some…news.”
If the boys weren’t concerned before, they certainly were now. “What, are you dying or something?” Gareth asked, genuinely worried for his friend despite his wording.
Eddie laughed, but there wasn’t much humor behind it. “No.”
“Well what’s up then, man?” Doug asked. “You’re worrying us.”
Eddie downed another two shots. He was on his way to a blackout. “I have a son.”
It went silent. Then, the guys all broke out into nervous laughter. “Good one, man,” Gareth said, his voice uncertain. Eddie didn’t look like he was joking, but he had to be. There was no way he had a kid.
“I’m serious,” Eddie said, his eyes locked on the shots in front of him. “I have a son. He’s almost 2. His name is Asher.” He downed another. “And I’ve never met him. Don’t know shit about him, b’sides what he looks like. I dunno what he likes, or if he’s anything like me. I don’t know shit.”
Gareth, Jeff, and Doug were silent. They exchanged a confused look. Finally, Gareth spoke up again. “Ed, what the fuck are you talking about?”
“I told you.” Eddie slammed down another shot glass, causing the guys to jump. “I have a kid. A son.”
“Are you being serious?” Jeff asked, nursing his own beer. The guys would all need a drink after this conversation.
“Yes,” Eddie said. “I just found out.”
It was silent for a minute. “With who?” Gareth asked. “A groupie? Or…” It dawned on the group at once. “Oh shit.”
“Yeah,” Eddie agreed, voice slurring even more heavily, “Oh shit.”
“How…what the fuck?” Gareth said, trying to wrap his mind around the situation. “She didn’t tell you?”
Another shot. “Nope.”
“So she just…talked to you while we were gone, and never mentioned anything?” Doug asked.
Eddie laughed humorlessly again, looking down at the empty shot glass in his hand. “I never called her,” he admitted. “Like a fucking idiot.”
“What the hell, man?” Gareth asked, looking at Eddie incredulously. “You never called her? I thought you loved her.”
Eddie waved a hand. “I don’t need the lecture all over again, Gare.”
Eddie drank himself stupid that night. The guys tried to get him to slow down, but he wasn’t having any of it. By the time the other bandmates were nearing drunk, Eddie was beyond wasted, barely able to sit up on the barstool.
“I gotta go,” he slurred, taking multiple tries to stand up.
“Where you going?” Gareth asked.
Eddie didn’t answer. He stumbled his way out of the bar, into the car waiting for him. He gave the driver the address that hadn’t left his head for a single second.
Your mind had been racing with thoughts of Eddie since the argument. You thought about calling him, but you felt that it was his responsibility to step up if that’s what he wanted to do. You weren’t going to chase him, that was for sure.
Asher was spending the night at your mom’s again, giving you the night to yourself. Your mom and Dustin loved their grandma and Uncle Dusty time, and you were grateful for the break, because you felt like you’d been going crazy since Eddie came back into your life.
You were just getting comfortable in bed when there was a knock at the door.
You checked the clock on the bedside table. 12am. Who the fuck would be knocking on your door in the middle of the night?
You grabbed the baseball bat Steve insisted you keep for protection and cautiously neared the front door. You peered through the peephole, seeing nothing but blackness. That was weird.
You kept the top chain bolt hooked in as you unlocked the door and opened it the few inches it allowed you. The figure on the other side, who had apparently been leaning against the door, stumbled forward. “Oh, shit,” he uttered, catching his balance with a giggle.
You narrowed your eyes. “Eddie?”
“Hey, baby,” he slurred, some attempt at a flirtatious smirk on his face. “Can I come in?”
“Jesus Christ, you’re wasted,” you remarked, observing how incredibly drunk he looked. He was sweating, his cheeks flushed red, and he smelled like alcohol. “Fuck. Come in, I guess.”
You unlocked the chain bolt and opened the door wide, letting him stumble inside. He knocked over the picture frames by the front door as he came in, and you cursed under your breath as you sat the bat down and picked them up.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You asked him, watching as he collapsed onto your couch with a little “Oof.”
“‘s he here?” Eddie slurred, looking around the apartment.
“Who? Asher?” You asked.
“Yeah.”
“No. He’s at my mom’s.” And good thing, you thought, because this was the last way he needed to meet his father.
“Claudia?”
“…Yeah. Claudia’s still my mom.”
Eddie heaved a heavy sigh. “She always liked me.”
“Yeah, well,” you said, adjusting the frames he had knocked over back the way you had them, “a lot has changed since you disappeared on us.”
“‘m really sorry,” Eddie said, catching you by surprise. “I was so stupid. So fuckin’ stupid.” He looked like he might be starting to cry as he wiped at his face. “I missed you every day.”
You felt yourself start to soften, despite your anger at what he had done. “I missed you, too. That’s why it hurt so bad.”
Eddie shook his head, wild curls bouncing. “So fuckin’ stupid. Big fuckin’ idiot. Dumbest person on the planet.”
You sighed, sitting on the couch next to him. He really reeked like alcohol. “It’s okay, Eds. You’re drunk. We don’t need to talk about it right now.”
He turned to you abruptly, grabbing onto your hands and catching you by surprise. “I love you. Y’know that? I’ve always loved you. I still love you. I’ll always love you.”
Your expression softened to one of pity and hurt. You’d wanted to hear those words for so long, but not while he was wasted on your couch after not hearing a word from him for two years. “Come on, Eddie. You reek. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
You helped him off the couch and to the bathroom. You ran a hot shower, helping peel off his gross clothes. You had seen Eddie naked a million times, so you weren’t bothered. But he kept trying to grab at you, and he was half hard as you got him undressed.
“Not tonight, big boy,” you told him as you pushed him into the shower. Eddie grumbled under his breath.
“Come in with me,” he begged, and you weren’t planning to, but you were getting soaked trying to keep him upright and help him wash. You pulled off your pajamas, stepping into the shower as Eddie gave you a wolfish grin.
“No touching,” you reminded him sternly.
He held his hands up. “Yes ma’am. Looking only.”
You rolled your eyes as you put some shampoo in the palm of your hand and began washing his wild hair. Eddie closed his eyes and hummed as you massaged his scalp, relaxing beneath your touch. He stumbled as he nearly fell asleep from the feeling.
“Woah, I’m gonna need you to stay awake for me,” you told him, pushing him under the stream of water to rinse the shampoo out. “I can’t drag you out of here if you pass out on me.”
“‘m not gonna pass out,” he assured you, but you weren’t sure if you fully believed him.
You lathered conditioner into his hair then put some body wash on your loofah. You scrubbed his whole body, washing away the sweat and alcohol. He wiggled his eyebrows at you as you washed him, but you ignored him.
As you washed his body, you noticed a new tattoo you’d never seen before - your name in a swirling script, right on his hip. He certainly hadn’t had that when he left. Your heart clenched in your chest, but you pushed the feelings away.
You pushed him under the water a final time, rinsing him off, before you switched spots with him and washed yourself, too. Might as well.
You turned the shower head off and climbed out, grabbing three towels. You wrapped one around your body and one around your hair and handed the third to Eddie. He shook his head like a dog, sprinkling water all around the bathroom as you glared at him.
Eddie dried himself off, leaning against the shower wall for support. When he was done, you helped him out and back into the living room.
“I think I have some of Steve’s sweatpants around here somewhere…” you mumbled to yourself as you left Eddie on the couch and walked into your bedroom, digging through your dresser drawers. You felt triumphant as you found the grey sweatpants, returning to the living room with them.
You handed them to Eddie, but quickly found he was too drunk to dress himself. You pulled him up, and he held onto your shoulders as you helped him step into the pants one leg at a time, like you would with Asher.
He fell back onto the couch again. You helped him lay down and covered him with the blanket on the back of the couch. “Get some sleep,” you told him. “You’re gonna feel like shit in the morning.”
You turned to walk away, but you were stopped by Eddie grabbing onto your hand. You turned, seeing his sleepy eyes looking up at you.
“Please don’t leave me,” he said, sounding pathetically sad. Despite yourself, you felt bad for him.
“I can’t fit on the couch with you, Eds,” you told him.
“Can I sleep in your bed with you?”
Your mouth opened to tell him no, but the words didn’t come out. You thought for a moment. “Yeah, I guess.”
Eddie smiled, and you helped him up and into your bedroom. He fell onto your bed, snuggling into the blankets and pillows. “So comfy,” he muttered, voice muffled into the pillow.
You climbed into bed next to him, even more exhausted now. It was seconds later when you heard soft snores from next to you, and you couldn’t help smiling softly to yourself. It felt so domestic, so familiar, you could almost imagine it was years ago and this was your normal.
But things were different now.
Eddie woke the next morning with the worst pounding headache. The sunlight through the window burned his eyes, and he pulled the blankets over his head with a groan.
The first thing he noticed was that the smell of the detergent was unfamiliar. He opened his eyes again, seeing the clean bedroom, the light purple comforter, the framed photos decorating the space. He looked to the side and saw a bottle of water and some Tylenol waiting for him.
He recognized the room immediately. He was at your apartment again. God, what the fuck did I do?
He popped the medicine bottle open and took 3 of them, washing them down with the water. He was shirtless, dressed in some grey sweatpants he didn’t recognize.
He cautiously crawled out of bed, taking the time to make it before he left the room. He found you in the kitchen, cooking breakfast. It smelled delicious, and he saw eggs and pancakes waiting on the counter as you fried the bacon. You turned as you heard his footsteps.
“Good morning,” you greeted, and he couldn’t tell if you were upset with him or not.
“Morning,” he said, tentatively approaching you. “Uh, did we…?”
“No,” you answered simply. You removed the pan from the heat and plated the bacon. “You should eat. I’m sure you feel like shit.”
He definitely did. You made plates for both of you, and he sat at the kitchen table across from you. “What…what happened last night?” He asked, before quickly digging into the breakfast feast you’d prepared.
“Well, you showed up at my door completely wasted,” you said, picking at your own plate. “I gave you a shower because you smelled like a bottle of whiskey. Then you asked to sleep in my bed with me.” You didn’t mention the way he’d tried for more.
Eddie’s cheeks blushed red with embarrassment. “Jesus. I’m so sorry.”
You shrugged. “It’s fine.”
“Is…”
“No, Asher isn’t here.”
Eddie breathed a sigh of relief. He would feel even more like the worst dad in the world if he’d met his son for the first time in that state. “Look, I was thinking…”
You looked up at him. “What?”
Eddie took a bite of his eggs, stalling. He realized you’d made them just the way he preferred them, even though you liked your eggs softer. “I’d like to meet him.”
You thought for a moment, pushing your food around your plate. “Yeah. We could do that.”
Eddie was surprised at the amount of relief he felt. He wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d said no. “Can I ask about him?”
You raised your eyebrows. “Yeah, of course.”
“What’s his favorite color?”
You smiled to yourself. “Blue. Like Thomas.”
Eddie smiled, too. “He likes trains?”
“Loves them.”
“What does he like to watch?”
“Mostly Sesame Street,” you said, “but he’s starting to get into the Ninja Turtles now.”
Eddie laughed. He could picture the little boy dancing to the theme song. “Is he anything like me?”
“God,” you said, huffing a small laugh. “Just like you.”
Eddie felt pride at that answer, for some reason. “Yeah?”
“Hell yes,” you said, shaking your head as you took a bite of bacon. “He’s wild. Loves to climb. He loves music, especially metal. He watches the music videos on MTV and tries to headbang along with them. He’s got the hair for it.”
Eddie laughed hard. “Oh my god. I’ve got to see that.”
It went quiet again as the two of you ate, and Eddie lost himself in his thoughts. He thought about how much he’d missed, how his son didn’t even know who he was. When he spoke up again, his tone was serious. “Does he know he has a dad?”
You paused, thinking of how to answer. “I…don’t think he really understands yet,” you said finally. “I guess he kind of sees Steve as a father figure, since he’s around all the time.”
That made Eddie feel sick to his stomach. The idea of Steve being a dad to his kid made him angry - even though he knew he didn’t really have the right to be. He was the one who left and never called, after all.
“But you know,” you said, sensing the hurt Eddie was feeling, “it’s not too late.”
Eddie nodded. He knew that was true. He had a lot to make up for, but Asher was young enough that he could make up for lost time. And he was determined to.
“When do you think I could meet him?” Eddie asked.
You thought for a moment. “You could come over tomorrow?”
Eddie smiled softly. “I’d like that.” He ate another bite of eggs. “Wayne wants to meet him, too.”
You smiled at the mention of his uncle. “I’ve missed Wayne.”
Eddie snorted. “He’s missed you too, believe me.”
The two of you finished the rest of your breakfast in silence. Eddie washed up after - it was the least he could do, he said, after you had essentially taken care of him last night. When he was done, you met him in the living room with his clothes from last night, freshly washed and dried. He felt guilty and grateful as he took them from you.
He changed back into his own clothes in your bedroom. When he was done, he examined the photos decorating the room that he hadn’t noticed when he’d been here before. There were plenty of Asher - he featured in most of them, in fact. Photos of you with Claudia and Dustin, with Steve and Robin. He even found the photo from when you and Eddie had gone to prom together among them. He smiled at the memory, looking at your high school selves. You looked happy. Happier than he’d seen you since he’d gotten back.
He wondered if he was the one who’d taken that sparkle out of your eyes.
When he left the bedroom, you were curled on the couch, watching an episode of Freddy’s Nightmares. Eddie approached, watching over your shoulder for a minute.
“I should probably get going,” he said, startling you. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay, I didn’t hear you,” you laughed lightly. “Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow? He wakes up from his nap around 2:30.”
“Yeah. Sounds good.” Eddie headed to the door, and you followed. “I’ll see you then.”
“Bye, Eds.”
“Bye.”
You closed the door behind him, locking it. You’d be going to pick up Asher soon, but for now you’d sit in the peace and quiet. You leaned your back against the door, thinking that maybe things could be okay.
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