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Top 8 Sporty Car Seat Cover Design: Must-Have Picks Unique - Copy
Everything You Need to Know About Mongolian Leather Seat Covers Luxury Meets Comfort Choosing the right Mongolian leather seat covers for your vehicle involves considering several factors to ensure that you select the best option for your needs and preferences. The first step is to determine the size and type of seat covers that are compatible with your car seats. Whether you opt for custom-fit,…
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emacrow · 3 months
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Jazz always wanted a little brother.
Her best friend's mommy having a baby brother in her tummy, but right now they were at gotham, mom was meeting with some important people while she stay safe in the car with dad sleeping in the front passenger seat.
When she asked her mom and dad for a baby brother earlier that same week, mom had to explained that her tummy was broken after she had her because she was a very special miracle baby because they tried so hard to have her.
Jazz understood but at the same time, she wanted- no she need a baby brother, maybe one with dad's hair and mom's eyes, or maybe one with hair like hair and dad's eyes.
And she was determined, as she snuck out of the fentomobile car, sneaking inside beside the scary ninjas guards that were temporarily distracted.
She was very good at sneaking around thanks to mom training her to stay quiet and hide better then a ghost.
There was pools of ectoplasmic but much dirtier and less cleaner then the stuff mom and dad work with. Container and chambers full of them.
She saw doctor walking out of one room and snuck in before the the door close on her. There was another ectoplasmic container that had babies in them..
One sleeping upside down and the other upside up. The one of the bottom was sleeping but the older has his eyes open, revealing pretty blue eyes like dad's eyes.
She chewed on her bottom lip a bit and weigh her short limited choices as nodding.
She close her eyes, focusing as she quickly started to float a bit wobbly, sticking her small hands onto the glass ectoplasmic ball using her secret powers that she had learned without mom and dad noticing.
Her invisible hand grabbed the baby slowly, making it invisible as she pulled it out of the ectoplasmic ball.
The baby was very small and light then a feather while covered in wet ectoplasm goop.. the baby cough a bit, dripping ectoplasm out his mouth, squirming a bit as he was about to male a fuzz but quiet down as she held him close into her warm fuzzy jacket.
She snuck back out of the room and quickly out of the place all the way back into fentonmobile..
Covering the baby with her Einstein beat designed blanket, cleaning the baby up like she would with her baby dolls, and she open the empty toy baby bottle and open her mini almond milk jug, then pour the milk in and close it, after remembering to cut a little open hole on the tip of the hard plastic nibble part.
Scooting over to the baby, and carefully picking him up and helding him close onto her lap like she seen the mommy do on TV as she press the toy baby bottle again the baby's mouth.
It would be 1 hour later before mom came back looking excited then 2 hours later after they left gotham before a soft baby wail woke her dad from the backseat of the fenton car where jazz was.
Jazz was pink in the face as she was trying to hide the baby but she couldn't stop him from crying.
It would 20 minutes of jazz lying straight to her parents's faces on where she found the baby, and it would forever be her only best lie she ever told that convinced them to adopt the baby boy that was now named danny..
Meanwhile back at league of Assassin headquarters. The head scientist has noticed that the first unborn twin baby has been removed early then schedule, probably due to natural condition of death since the first one has a much weaker pulse compared to the second unborn baby which Talia had name Damian later.
The leading scientist check off the existence of the supposed first born who went without a name on the data base...
Unknownly to both parties, Jazz was very happy to have a little brother of her own now, even if his eyes flashes green a bit from time to time.
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pirateprincessblog · 1 month
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needle to the heart
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𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: wedding planning seemed stressful and difficult on tv and in the stories of your friends and family. your first one was, indeed, stressful and difficult. so much that it took you less than ten minutes to discard your wedding dress, undo your hair, and call a cab. this time will be different. with a different approach. in a different city. with a different man. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: kim hongjoong x f!reader x choi san 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: angst, smut, bride!reader, ex!hongjoong, ceo!san, cheating, marriage, past lovers 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: public, voyeurism, orgasm denial, slight dacryphilia, choking, hair pulling, fingering, mirror sex
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, infidelity 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: i whipped this out in three hours. enjoy. i did. i'm horny. and sad. not proofread. :)
𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.
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you liked to think that you were the furthest thing from a bridezilla. you did everything on your own or with your partner, kept your family and friends out of it, for their and your sake, and little by little, all the planning was coming to an end. the seating arrangement was finished, bridesmaids happy, parents satisfied, and you and your partner relaxed. all that was left to do was find the wedding gown and tuxedo.
for your last wedding, your then partner and you did not have a big budget. you did not plan a big wedding either, knowing that none of your family members would attend and he had a very small circle of people.
kim hongjoong was in college, struggling to make ends meet. but he loved you, more than anything. would've kept you in his pocket if he could. he borrowed money from his brother to pay for the venue and catering, and used his savings to buy himself a suit that was conveniently on clearance. as for your dress, he made it for you. his dream of becoming a fashion designer never faded, even though it cost him his apartment and most of the food. he lived off of coffee, pretzels and cigarettes.
he quit them for you, hoping to create a better impression in your parent's eyes. but all they saw was a cigarette smelling, hair dyed boy whose dreams were too big for his own good and he could not give you a good future. they didn't not like him. they hated him. your father, usually having a soft spot for even a pout from you, let alone tears, was unfazed as you begged him to give hongjoong a chance.
"you'll become homeless in no time."
"don't come to us when everything falls apart."
"what do you know about love at your age?"
"why can't you find someone more successful?"
and you almost went through with it. you sat in the hand sewn wedding dress, with your hair done by your best friend, and make up done by yourself. the dress itself did not look like it was made in under a month by a man. it looked like it was stripped from a mannequin in a wedding dress shop. and you loved it. you loved every bit of it. you loved every bit of him. the smile he had on his face as he handed you the box, and the little excited clapping as you admired his creation in awe.
yet, as soon as your best friend left you to get the veil from the car, you regretted it. what if it really does go wrong, and you have no backup. you didn't go to college, instead choosing to work until you decide what to do with yourself. but your paycheck wasn't enough to find an apartment for yourself, let alone two people. then comes the food, the utilities, and his college. would he ask you for money? would he contribute at all? would you have to work two shifts to cover both of your expenses?
in the ten minutes that your best friend, the maid of honour, was gone, your brain managed to mess with your feelings and got you out of the dress and through the window. you ran in the clothes you arrived in, leggings and sweatshirt, with undone hair and face full of smeared makeup. your parents ushered you in, your mother happily wiping your makeup off and preparing you your favourite meal.
your phone did not ring once. it hurt your heart to think that hongjoong did not reach out to you. not him, not his family, and not your maid of honour. you were alone. hurting. you did not want to do it. but if hongjoong had been just a tad bit more patient, everything would've been perfect. neither of you were financially stable on your own, or together, and barely had the money for the wedding. hongjoong didn't understand it. or didn't want to understand it. blindly in love, he just wanted to gift you the world. say the word, and he would create it out of thin air for you if he could.
you moved cities, changed numbers, forgot names and faces, met new ones. you met choi san. a kind, polite man you've met at the gym. the encounter was like one from a movie; someone raising their voice at you for borrowing some equipment and shoving you backwards as you tried to defend yourself. when your back hit the wall, you were certain the giant bodybuilder's fist would soon meet your face. until he came to rescue.
"pick on someone your own size."
"this your girlfriend or something?"
"she is. even if she wasn't, what gives you the right to talk or touch anyone like that?"
"tell your slut to keep her fingers to herself and ask the next time she wants to- oof!"
in a split second, san's fist connected with the man's jaw. it was amusing seeing the giant man stumble back, taking a hit from someone who was shorter and not as bulked as him. the workers were quick to react, but on his behalf. both of you got your membership cancelled, bags and bottles flying out the door, along with you two. you stood in front of the glass doors in the dark, your saviour next to you, equally in disbelief. until you started laughing. and he joined.
from that night, everything seemed to fall in place. you felt loved. safe. had hopes and dreams again. your parents accepted san, just like his parents accepted you. family dinners and lunches were now an often occurrence, with san always abducting you while everyone was busy preparing food and giving you attention where nobody could see.
it was sweet and innocent at first, and more heated and passionate as days went by. choi san knew how to sweep you off your feet, whether it was with a sudden trip to your dream destination or a simple chocolate bar he picked up at the gas station. aside from loving, caring and protecting, he was also rich. you would sound shallow if you said it out loud, but it did contribute. looking at your last relationship, this one felt safe. you didn't need to worry whether you'll spend today's budget on your daily coffee or on your partner's food so he doesn't starve.
now, a few years later, not only do you have a majestic venue, a big number of people you wanted to invite in the first place, and a dreamy groom, but you are also getting your wedding gown custom made. you sit in your fiancé's car, a brand new black and shiny lexus with red seats he bought for the wedding that is just three weeks away. he assured you that the gown would be done by then. it had to be.
"see anything you like, love?"
"they're all so... revealing." you complain, closing one of the dozens magazines san's assistant has found you.
san chuckles, putting a hand on your thigh and keeping the other one on his steering wheel. you still feel goosebumps every time he touches you. his hand is warm on your skin, gently squeezing your bare thigh just beneath the hem of your dress. "you can draw your own picture if you wish. i'll do everything to make sure you have your dream dress. i want my future wife to be happy."
as an owner of a highly successful company that produces luxurious jewelry and watches, choi san could afford everything. yet, he was still cautious with his money. he kept his receipts, tracked his own expenses, but never spared when it came to spoiling you or tipping workers. the only thing you regretted was not meeting him sooner.
"i am happy." you respond, even though your tone is irritated.
"you're so cute when you try to conceal your emotions. you can be angry with something, that's alright."
"i'm not angry. i'm pissed."
"tell me what you want, and i'll make it happen."
"i don't know what i want." you admit, throwing the magazines in the back seat.
"ah," san says. "can i be of any help?"
"you can try."
"you love sparkles. why not go all out?"
"i don't know."
you rest your head against the window, looking at the tall building that overshadows all the others as you give your brain a break. it is san's building, and you have been in there many times. some days spent sitting in the cafeteria and having lunch with him, and some spent against the window, bare body pressed against the cold glass as his warm hands held your waist in place and hips connected with yours. you feel arousal pooling between your legs, and instinctively press your thighs together at the memory.
san recognizes the way you chew your freshly manicured nail, eyes stuck on the highest level on his building and cheeks becoming flushed. he smirks to himself, before letting his hand dip between your thighs and feel the warmth of your core.
"san-" you gasp, quickly rolling up the window.
usually, you do not mind. but in the middle of the day, in a busy city as you wait for the green light?
"may i know what got you so worked up?" he asks, knowing the answer already. he just needed to hear it from you while you were a flustered and stuttering mess.
"you know."
"i'm afraid i don't. mind reminding me?"
you look at him with an annoyed face. you realize it is a mistake, your eyes hungrily taking in his presence. he looks ravishing with his slicked black hair, with a few strands falling over his smug face, a black halfway unbuttoned shirt with rolled up sleeves and his sleeve tattoos on full display. the tattooed hand grips your thigh, his pinky finger inching closer and closer to your clothed core. your gaze drops on his tattoos, having memorized all of them by now. your favorite one overshadows the rest, and when he first showed it to you, it had your jaw dropped for a long time.
your eyes inked on his skin, details astonishing. your lashes, your iris, to the smallest vein in the whites of your eye. it was cleverly camouflaged with the rest of them, but still standing out if someone were to look at it a bit longer.
something about him pleasuring you with that hand had you seeing stars. choi san loved you so much that he got a reminder of you permanently marked on his skin. and he made sure to show you how much he loved you in other ways. just like now, easily moving your panties aside and brushing his fingers against your folds. he circles your clit, causing you to squirm in your seat and claw at the red leather underneath you. he doesn't protest, instead loving the view and sounds you make for him.
"my pretty wife," he coos, then dips his fingers into your aching hole.
you moan, throwing your head back and closing your eyes, finally relaxing your body. san has given you passion and an adrenaline rush. you can't help but be jealous of his previous lovers. were they also treated like this?
you feel the car move, and his fingers plunge deep inside of you. you gasp, opening your eyes and holding onto the door handle and his wrist. he smoothly navigates the busy roads, not once taking his hand off your body. his thick fingers easily find your soft spot, not sparing a moment before abusing it and inching you closer to an intense orgasm. he is forced to stop at another red light, causing you to groan out of frustration. you wished for nothing more than to get out of the busy city center, beg him to stop in an empty parking lot so you can offer yourself to him in the back seat.
"excuse me?"
you become stiff under his touch, ears picking up a foreign voice. san does not halt his moves, relentlessly slamming two fingers into you, hidden by your dress. you squeeze his wrist - a poor attempt to stop him.
"yes?" your lover rolls down his window, shifting his focus on the older couple that approaches the car.
"do you know where this street is? we aren't usually in this city." they show san their phone screen that has an address written in the notes.
as san explains, you can't help but feel a mix of fear and embarrassment. the green light could turn on any second, and your orgasm could wreck your body in the same time span. you can't help the gasps that leave your lips, even though your head is turned to the other side. it does not make the situation easier, seeing that the sidewalk is full of people waiting for the bus. and have a perfect view inside the car. some of them recognize the pure bliss on your face, and while a few turn their heads away, two or three of them stay looking at you.
"and then you turn left after the restaurant." san finally finishes, and you almost do too.
"thank you, kind man. is your... partner alright?"
all three look your way, and you have to fight the urge to yell at the couple to leave and be on their way already. instead, your orgasm ripples through your body, sending shockwaves along your spine and making your eyes roll back. you hear faint snickering, and a gasp. you know that the couple is traumatized, and that san is enjoying every bit of it. as are you.
you don't conceal your moans anymore, allowing sounds of pleasure to echo in the car that now smells less new and more like you.
"i hope you find your location." the man greets, removing his hand from your glistening folds and letting his tongue feast on the fluids that coat his fingers.
before they can respond, the light turns green, and san is quick to step on the gas pedal and leave the shocked crowd behind.
"you're insane." you exhale, a smile creeping on your lips no matter how angry you wish to sound.
"and you love it."
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san's assistant is still a student. she works for him so she can afford her college. her job description says doing tasks that make san's job easier, but in reality, her only task is to keep you company and help you around the wedding. and she does not complain.
"april, this looks fabulous." you gasp, gawking at the three story wedding dress shop a few days later.
"i know, right? i pass by this shop every day on my way to college. i really want to buy my own dress here some day." the redhead sighs, dreamy gaze roaming the white gowns. "you know, mr choi is so cool for letting you design your own dress."
"when you get proposed to, give me a call. i'll see what i can arrange." you playfully reply.
she laughs, then finally pushes the door and holds it open for you. sometimes you feel jealous of her. she has fire red hair, and green eyes, the most gorgeous shade you've ever seen. she spends a lot of time in san's building, right outside the office. even though she has never shown interest in him, you can't help but moan just a bit louder when you're in there with him, hoping that she hears and gets the message.
"the owner is so hot, mrs choi. i met him the other day to book a consultation and-"
"mrs choi?" you raise an eyebrow.
"oh- i mean- can i call you that? it sounds so... sexy. mr and mrs choi. the hottest couple i know. not even brangelina can top you."
"april!" you hush her. still, you can't help but blush at her compliment. you're happy to know that she sees you as attractive as san.
after a short introduction and a few words of praise for san, you are sat on a white couch with golden accents, a champagne in your hand and magazine in the other. the shop assistants offer all the help they can, showing you various gowns they already had and handing you rough sketches. but none of them were good enough. it was hard to pick, when you didn't know what you wanted.
"where's the owner? i thought he would be here." you ask on april's behalf.
"oh, he had urgent business. if you wish, i can schedule another consultation in a few days. or you can wait for him, but he arrives late today."
"how late?" the redhead asks, brows furrowed.
"an hour after closing. but i can keep the shop open for you until he arrives."
april groans, making you chuckle. "you have to go, don't you?"
"yeah. boo. but you should definitely stay. the wedding is two and a half weeks away, and you have no vision of your dream dress. i have five in mind!"
and so you do stay, occupying yourself with browsing various materials of lace, satin and whatnot. each of them are undeniably stunning, with a detail that makes it unique. the last assistant that stayed behind encouraged you to explore the two floors again while she stays downstairs and finishes the remaining paperwork.
your heels click against the marble stairs as you climb to the first floor, eyes skimming the room for the second time today. the dresses on this floor seem more modest, with long sleeves and not as much cleavage. quickly getting bored of the floor, your proceed to the top one. it is extravagant, gowns dripping in sparkles under the strong white lights. once you finish going through all of them, you head over to the show window, examining the two mannequins dressed in two versions of the same gown.
you sigh, feeling disappointed that you are so hard to please. your eyes drift to the streets that have calmed due to the lateness of the night and sudden change in weather. it is pouring, most of the stores are closed, making the wedding boutique stand out in its full glory. a few people pass by, none of them headed to the store and instead clutching their umbrellas close to themselves so they don't get wet. you begin feeling annoyed with the owner. he could've notified you that he had sudden errands, and you would've rescheduled instead of wasting your time coming here at all.
then, you see a figure walking towards the shop. and your heart drops.
it can't be.
you rush to the top of the stairs, careful to not make any noise.
"mr kim! you're drenched! i'll get you a-"
"no need, kendra. it's not that bad."
it is him.
his voice you could recognize anywhere, no matter how long has passed. his figure, his voice, even the footsteps that are getting louder and louder. you are not ready for this encounter.
"you can go home, love. i'll close up after i've finished with..."
"mrs choi."
"right, mrs choi."
so he does not know it is you. and he won't. not until he sees you. you're a fool for not exploring the place first, finding out the name of the owner. and you're a fool for not leaving when april did. at least then she would've maybe told you his name, and you would not come back-
"y/n?"
ever again.
"you're mrs choi?"
you sigh. there is no going back. there is no avoiding it. best get it over with. do you address him professionally? or by his first name? "mr- hongjoong."
he scoffs, and you finally turn around before you stumble on more words. the sight takes your breath away. this is not your ex hongjoong. it is mr kim, owner and designer of wedding gowns. his hair is not a vivid colour as it used to be, instead his natural dark locks match his dark eyes. it is damp, drops of rain falling from the loose strands and on the mopped floor. he wears a black coat, a black turtleneck and slacks. a complete opposite from your blue haired hongjoong who loved his diy sweatshirts and sweatpants. the man stands still, his expression a mix of anger and grief, and yours only astonishment.
"thought you'd see me sleeping on a bench somewhere? beat and hungry? not successful and financially stable? not over you?"
"no, i-"
"wow. who would've thought i'd be making a wedding gown for my ex fiancee." he approaches you, and you don't have energy to step away. instead, you stare as he puts his hands behind his back and casually leans in, face close to yours. "again."
"i-" you try again, feeling his hot breath on your lips.
"well, shall we get to business? before you change your mind faster this time? wouldn't want the poor man to have the same fate as i."
anger, along with regret, pools in the bottom of your stomach. anger that he didn't reach out to you. and regret for what you did that caused him not to.
"choi... choi san? the owner of that watch brand? well, this watch brand." he shows you his wrist, the familiar watch design shining under the boutique lights. "can you believe that? i can afford it and not go bankrupt. i have to admit the prices are whopping, but it is a really nice-"
"can you stop fucking shitting on me and give me a chance to speak?" you interrupt him this time, brows furrowed and nails digging into your palms.
"fine. go." he sits on the couch in the middle of the room, putting his leg over the other.
"that day... i just-"
"no. speak of the design you want." he interrupts again, making that bubble of anger inside of you bigger and bigger, threatening to burst any moment. "you haven't come here to explain yourself. nor did you ever think of doing that. just because i had a few things to say doesn't mean i want to hear you out. now, speak. long? short? sleeves? no sleeves? easier to unzip so you can leave faster without anyone noticing you?"
your palms burn from the intensity of your nails digging into your skin, and your teeth abuse the insides of your cheeks. "fuck you."
hongjoong abruptly stands up from the couch, causing you to stumble back in order to defend yourself. "me? fuck me? what did i ever do to you besides loving you?"
"you didn't listen. if only you did, we could've been married by now. we weren't financially ready then-"
"i had found a job. i saved up. i wanted to surprise you with a new apartment. but you surprised me with my own wedding gown laying on the floor without the love of my life in it. i have to admit, you outdid me there. did not see that one coming."
"i didn't know about your job."
"of course you didn't. you didn't want to know. your family brainwashed you. tell me, is san filthy rich? is he the one paying for this dress?"
his voice is dripping with bitterness, and his sour smile makes your insides turn uncomfortably. you're not used to seeing him be this mean. but something tells you that you will never see the pure side of hongjoong you've known ever again.
"did your parents adore him as soon as they heard his name? after all, he can afford a lavish wedding. he can give you anything you ask for. all i could give you was the ability to disappoint them with your partner choice. my apologies for that, by the way. i should've known better."
"stop. i'm leaving."
"no, you're not. your little assistant made a contract with us, and you are not to leave the shop until you have your dream gown."
"i don't want your fucking gown."
"boo-hoo. cut the tears, dollface. you're not in a position to be sad or angry. i, however, am in a position to chew you out for what you did to me."
"and you're not chewing me out right now?" you reply, angry tears streaming down your face. you hate crying from frustration.
"this is me holding back, my ex lover. you don't wish to hear me unleash."
stubborn, you straighten your back and walk towards him, until you are mere inches away from his face. "unleash, then. let me hear what you've been brewing all those years."
the man doesn't flinch. instead, he hands you a gown from the rack, shoving it into your hands. "go try that on."
"i don't-"
"go."
letting out a shaky exhale, you enter the dressing room. you finally look at yourself in the mirror. slightly smeared mascara, a few wet trails on your cheeks, and frizzy hair. when you put on the dress, you look just like the day of your wedding; dressed up, hopeless, and troubled. it's like deja vu, putting your hair in a claw clip so that you can see the dress better. tears of anger slowly turn into tears of sadness. you have robbed yourself of your first love, and him of his happiness. you turned him into a bitter man.
"suits you." he comments nonchalantly, hands crossed over his chest. "now, i wonder. by the look on your face, you did not know i own this place or design the pieces in it. what did you think i did after you left?"
"i didn't think." a lie.
"did you think i'd drown in tears from sadness?"
"you know, it seems to me that you thought about me more than you wish to admit." you play his game.
"i am not afraid to admit anything. i did think about you. i ran after you. your best friend stopped me. said you were not worth it. that you'll forever let your parents navigate your life. some best friend, huh?"
you didn't hear from her, or anyone else. nobody reached out to you, and you didn't reach out to anybody. it seemed like a mutual silent decision. and it killed you inside.
"try this one." he hands you another. "might be a bit big, but i'll adjust it."
the switch from professional to whatever the other thing is scares you. so you listen. it's the least you can do. you want to get your dress already, and he might get closure. both of you might. the second dress is plain satin with a corset top. it accentuates your eyes, and isn't revealing, with a simple sweetheart neckline. the pearl straps are made to fall off the shoulders, showing off your collarbones. hongjoong had a fixation for your collarbones, always leaving a hickey or two when making love to you.
you look at yourself with disgust. you're choosing a wedding gown for a man of your dreams, and your mind wanders to the way the man outside the dressing room marked your body every chance he got.
"come out, bride." he calls, and you can't tell if he is mocking you or really means it.
you come out, collarbones on full display, and mascara still smeared. he was ready to throw another comment, but upon seeing you, words get stuck in his throat. his jaw drops slightly, and eyes roam your figure hidden in the satin layers. your waist invites him, as does your unmarked skin. and you know desire in his eyes when you see it. and you hate that you feel it pooling in your core as he approaches you.
"you told me to unleash?" he whispers.
"yes. please do." you beg, hoping to finally close this chapter of your life. "don't hold back. i can take it."
he looks at your teary eyes, chewing the inside of his cheek. he always did that when he thought hard. finally, he steps closer, until your chests almost touch. the towers over you, making your head tilt slightly so you can look at him. the sight is too familiar to him; you below him, teary eyed and smeared makeup. the only thing missing being his load coating your cheeks.
"i hate you."
"okay." you gulp, looking at his chest in front of you.
"i hate what you've done to me. i hate that i ever loved you. i hate that you moved on so easily, while i had to stay back and live in a town where everything reminded me of you. i hate that i was so gullible, thinking we could have a future together. i hate that i thought i was good enough for you."
"hongjoong-" you wish to stop him before you break down. but he doesn't. instead, he places a hand on your neck, causing you to gasp and look up at him once again. your hands wrap around his one wrist in hopes of removing it. "hongjoong-"
"most of all..." he pushes you against the wall, putting light pressure on the sides of your neck. he brings his face close to yours, so close that your noses touch and lips brush each other. when he speaks, you feel how soft and warm they are, and hear how venomous his words are. "...i hate that i still fucking love you. i hate how good you look in a dress you wear for another. i hate that another one is kissing you, touching you, giving you everything that i couldn't. i hate how stunning you look, and i hate myself for being so weak to your mere existence. i hate that you look this good, and it is not for me."
"you're hurting me," you sob.
"you're hurting me, mrs choi. after all these years, you still hurt me." two tears escape his eyes, and he shuts them and furrows his eyebrows. "i hate that i can smell him on you."
his grip softens, but he doesn't remove his hand from your neck just yet. you swallow, before letting his wrist go and instead wiping his tears away. he opens his eyes, not expecting a soft approach from you. when he looks at you, you don't see the resentment anymore. you see pure pain. and you hate to admit that you feel the same.
"we could've been perfect together."
"we could've." you confirm, moving his damp strands from his face and brushing his hair in the process. it is as soft as you remember it. he closes his eyes again under your touch, exhaling and letting himself go in your arms.
"please," he whispers. "one last time."
your moves halt, and your brain freezes. your heart thumps loud inside your chest, and you're sure he can feel it too. "what?"
"one last time." the dark haired man allows his hand to slide from your neck, index finger following an imaginary line down your neck and running over your collarbones. "let me give you a chance to change your mind."
you wish to say no. with all your heart. you love san, more than anything. you've grown with san, you've created a new future with him. but your love for hongjoong is... familiar. old. nostalgic. and still undead. it was buried alive, and you didn't even know it.
"please..." his whispers become softer, and lips closer to yours.
"don't..." you try, voice an equal whisper.
"please," he begs again, his other hand sliding to your waist and pressing your body against his.
"don't," you say, voice shaking as you fight your brain and heart, both already at war with each other.
he closes the distance, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. it is a split second, but in that second, he opens the pandora's box, unleashing everything bad about you. you gulp, feeling his scent envelop you. he smells like rain and jasmine, and it blends with his natural scent so well.
"please," he kisses you again, each kiss short and sweet, and full of pain and desire.
"don't."
"please."
"don't..." the hand that was on your collarbones slides to the zip on the back of the dress, undoing it smoothly and loosening your dress. "stop..."
he kisses you again, spilling begging words over and over, and you do not push him away, despite your words. "please."
"don't..." you exhale when his hands cup your bare breasts. "stop."
"y/n."
"don't stop."
"my love."
"don't stop."
"my beautiful."
"don't stop."
"my only one."
"please don't stop."
as if you shattered the invisible wall that held him back, hongjoong lets your dress pool on the floor and picks you up, pinning you against the wall and making your legs wrap around his body. his lips hungrily search for yours, kissing, sucking, biting, everything he dreamed of for the past few years you were gone.
your hands roam his body, taking off his coat and helping him out of his turtleneck. your tongue finds his, eager to taste him again. you hum the moment you touch the hot muscle, which generously gives you back equal attention. he tastes the same. he tastes like home.
"i should've ran until my legs stopped working. i should've called until my finger became numb. i should've called out your name until my voice faded." with each sentence, he gets rid of a piece of clothing, until your bare bodies are pressed against each other on the soft couch.
you don't speak, instead pulling him by his hair to kiss him again. he chuckles lightly into the kiss, your eagerness amusing to him. you're not in the mood for any foreplay, core already dripping with arousal and desire to feel him after many years.
"i want you to say it out loud." he stops for a moment, looking deep into your eyes.
"don't make me say it."
"i need you to. otherwise, i'm leaving."
"hongjoong..." guilt eats up your heart, the image of san appearing before your eyes.
"say it. say you want me. say you want me to make love to you and send you back to your future husband with my marks and scent all over you."
"i want you." you whisper.
"what was that?" he leans in closer, holding your jaw in one hand while his other one gently spreads your legs.
"i want you, hongjoong."
"atta girl." he smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "i won't be gentle."
you nod, excitement overshadowing the guilt from your infidelity. hongjoong doesn't let you adjust like he always did. instead, he places his hot, leaking tip to your entrance, and slides in easily and deeply. your nails dig into his back, and walls welcome the familiar girth. you both moan into each others mouths, and stand still for a few moments. it is the sudden moment of realization when you look at each other than makes his eyes become darker, and he spares no time before pulling out and slamming his hips against yours again.
his lips leave yours, letting you moan and whine freely as your fingers pull at his hair. his tongue leaves a trail down your neck, all the way to your collarbones. he sinks his teeth into your skin, pulling the thin flesh between them and harshly sucking. you yelp, but don't push him away. you'll let him have this. you don't feel it after the second bite, instead focusing on the way his cock relentlessly slams into you, abusing the sensitive spot and inching you closer to an orgasm already.
his grip on your waist is sure to leave bruises, and right now, you do not care how you will conceal it.
"hongjoong..." you gasp.
"yes, doll?"
"i need- i don't want to cum yet." you admit.
he pulls away, enough to turn your body over so that you are laying on your stomach. he raises your hips, and presses your head against the soft surface of the couch. then, he slams his hips into yours, speeding up his moves. you are a moaning and drooling mess, not being used to being used this roughly. san was passionate, and not soft. but not rough either. hongjoong is just that: his hatred for you might be the main initiator.
"i'll send you back to your fiancé full of my seed." he growls, pulling your hair back.
your nails dig into the cushions, and eyes look at the mannequins in the show window. you don't have time to feel guilty again, because hongjoong wraps his hand around your neck and picks up your body so that your head rests on his shoulder and you can look at him as he drills into you from behind.
"look at me when i'm fucking you."
your hips hopelessly work with his, body tired from chasing the orgasm already.
"is my darling tired?"
you simply whimper at his question, the grip on your neck too strong for any other response. he pulls away once again, wasting no time in picking you up and walking over to the mirror. he lets you face it, palms pressed against the cold surface. he slides back in, deliciously filling you up to the brim. your own expressions of pleasure sicken you. and you hate that you are loving it.
hongjoong looks at you through the mirror, soft grunts and gasps escaping his mouth each time he collides with your ass. his hand finds its way to your mouth, shoving two fingers inside while his other one toys with your clit.
"look at you." he says, eyes locked with yours. you're unable to look away. "taking your ex man's cock while you try on wedding dresses for another."
you simply moan, not knowing what to say. it is hot, and painful.
"does your fiancé know you'll be wearing my dress when you walk down the aisle? does he know that the hands that made it have also been on his future wife's body?"
when you don't answer, he hits your ass cheek, causing you to jolt. "no, no! he doesn't! please, please make me cum."
"i'll let you cum. if you tell me one thing." he brings your body close to his again so he can whisper in your ear. his hips stop for a moment.
"anything." you whine.
"is his cock better than mine?"
there is no better. both of them have their ways of pleasuring you, and you enjoy both. you pull away and turn around to face him. you skim over his features, taking in his glowing face due to sweat and body full of scratches from your nails. the nails you are supposed to have for your wedding.
"no." you finally reply.
"that's a good fucking girl."
hongjoong pushes you against the mirror, this time facing you. he holds your legs over his elbows, body hovering above the floor and back pressed against the mirror. he reaches a new angle, and this time, you know you'll burst fast. all you need is a few more strokes.
"cum for me, baby. cream all over my cock."
your nails continue to dig into his back, and your forehead finds comfort against his. you moan into each others mouths, each chasing your own peak and enjoying the noises that the other has to offer. when you finally spill over the edge, you moan louder than ever, hands hopelessly pushing his body against yours for comfort. his pants turn into moans, and hips become sloppy as he also reaches his peak and shoots his load inside you. you feel fuller than ever, hole clenching around his pulsating cock. you help him ride it out, moving your hips as best as you can from this position.
once down from the high, you bring yourself to look at him one more time.
"i'll never see you again after this, will i?" he whispers, lips already missing yours.
"no, hongjoong. our story is over. i'm sorry."
he only smiles, pressing a final kiss to your lips before pulling away. he leaves to get something to clean yourself, leaving you alone in the room.
your reflection stares back at you through the stained mirror, prints of your body clear as day. bruises decorate your body after a long time, and your makeup melts from your face. facing hongjoong was a challenge.
facing san will be an even bigger one.
as if he knew you thought about him, the phone rings inside your purse in the dressing room. you rush over there, fingers eager to press the green button.
"hey, wifey. how's the gown shopping going?"
"it's-" your voice comes out raspy, and you have to cough to get rid of it. "it's going well. i think i finally know what i want." and you don't mean the dress.
"oh, i'm so proud of you. i can't wait to see you in it. “you’ll look stunning. should i pick you up?"
"you don't have to. i'll be there in a few."
"alright, princess. i love you."
"i love you too."
once you hang up, you exit the room and find hongjoong waiting with the towel. his eyes are glossy, but he holds control over the tears this time. "you know i'll always hate you."
you laugh, pain ripping through your heart at the words. "i know."
"good."
he gets on his knees, cleaning you in silence, before whispering something. if you weren't focused on every sound he made, you would've missed it.
"don't forget me."
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taglist:
@unholywriters @jjoongstar @arki-sha @dawn-iscozy @slvtiny @maltesejjong @ate-ez @katelins27 @kodzukein @almondmilkeu @woomyteez @mulletdaddyjayjo @bae4choi @haatohwa @marvelahsobx @angellluh @jjaemasung @oddracha @itza-meee
625 notes · View notes
auroralwriting · 3 months
Text
clean 1
tfatws! bucky barnes x stark! reader (no use of y/n)
after the fight with john walker, you can tell bucky's arm was bothering him. so, you make a trip to see him.
word count: 1.6k | warnings: strong language, multiple parts, part two
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Your suit was practically scarp metal after the fight with John Walker. He had tried his hardest to absolutely obliterate your suit. Thankfully, Tony had done a great job of designing it. With a few hours of repairs, it would be good as new.
The one thing you worried about was Bucky's arm, specifically the metal one. You saw how Walker had thrown Bucky across the room into wiring, causing it to shock Bucky's whole body. It made you uneasy to think about wether or wether not the arm was in tact, that and the fact that if it wasn't, it could very well lead to a lot of pain for Bucky.
So, using Friday, you found Bucky's new address. He'd taken residence in a small apartment in Brooklyn, thankfully, not too far from where you were reclaiming the Stark Tower. One car ride later, and you stood outside Bucky's apartment feeling more nervous than you thought you would be.
While Bucky and you weren't on bad terms, it was fair to say he was still uneasy around you. I mean, he had killed your parents, and your only living relative (minus the small Morgan) was also dead. You'd been a baby when The Winter Soldier killed Howard and Maria, so how could there be any bad blood between you and Bucky? You didn't even know what you had lost. That and you were more down-to-earth than Tony, realizing quickly the guilt and shame Bucky felt for his mind-controlled actions.
Using up the last bit of confidence you had, you knocked on Bucky's door. It took less than a minute, and Bucky's surprised face was staring back at you.
"Uhm, hi," You said awkwardly.
"How'd you know where I live?" Bucky asked, confused.
You held up your phone, Friday's screen appearing. "Just a quick scan of all James Buchanan Barnes in the area. Not very many," Your joke fell flat as you stood awkwardly while Bucky processed what was happening.
"Why're you here?" He asked.
"I wanted to make sure you were okay after the fight with Walker." You replied. "I saw you get thrown into all those wires, I saw all the sparks."
Bucky gave a small shrug, "I'm alright."
You eyed his arm suspiciously, "That arm causing you any pain?"
Both eyes now fell on Bucky's arm. You looked back up to Bucky to see him staring at it still. "It's been better," He sighed, his reply honest.
"I can fix it if you'd like?" You suggested. Bucky's eyes nearly popped out of his head at your words, "Or not!" You quickly added. "I, uh, don't want to make you feel weird..er than you probably already do."
Bucky went to move his arm, and you saw the traces of pain etched into his features. "It'll be alright."
"Our fight isn't over yet, Bucky." You argued. "You should be at your best." You took a deep breath in, finding more confidence from deep within, "I promise I won't judge you if that's what you're worried about. I mean, Tony literally had a hunk of metal plunged in his chest, and he made me clean it out all the time, it was really gross and-"
"Alright, alright," Bucky held his hands up. "I don't wanna hear about Tony's gross chest-hole. Just, come on in." The door opened all the way as Bucky walked inside. You trailed behind, slowly shutting the door behind you as you observed the apartment. It was really empty, just a small couch and a coffee table in front of it. The kitchen looked rather bare, too.
You took a seat on the couch, Bucky sitting next to you. You set your toolbox down in between the both of you, putting some space between your bodies.
"I need to see the connection point, if you don't mind?" You said softly, looking to Bucky's covered shoulder.
"Oh, yeah, yeah," He muttered as he hesitantly slipped off his shirt. You quickly noticed the healing scars on his shoulder, all around the joint, but you made sure to pay no attention to them as you hovered your hand over his arm. "It's fine," He said, watching your hesitantcy.
The metal was cool on your hands as you felt around it, looking for the weak point. Once you found it, you grabbed your tools and began to work at it. You weren't used to working in silence, so you tried to make some conversation.
"Steve, uh, used to tell me a lot about you." You said. Bucky raised a brow at you as you continued. "You were his knight in shining armor, or something of the sorts."
"I guess I was," Bucky gave the smallest hint of a smile. "How'd you learn how to do this anyways?"
You shrugged as you grabbed a new tool, "Tony taught me everything I know. Engineering, chemistry, physics, you name it."
"It must've been hard, just you two." Bucky said softly.
Looking up, you shook your head, "Don't start that," You said.
"But it's my fault-"
"For the last time, Bucky, that was the Winter Soldier, not you. I do not blame you, there's no reason to keep hurting yourself over this." You cut Buck off, voice slightly sharp with intention. Bucky's eyes fell on the other side of the room as you sighed, "Tony would have forgiven you, too. He just needed time."
Bucky scoffed, "He had five years."
"Of which we were gone," You countered. "I forgive you for him and myself, okay?"
“Don’t say that,” Bucky shook his head. “Just.. don’t?”
You set down your tool, staring at him. “Do you want proof?”
This gained Bucky’s interest, “Proof?” He asked, voice laced with doubt. “What proof?”
“Who do you think protected your whereabouts in Wakanda?” You asked, “Steve and Sam were on the run. Of course Tony knew you were there. I remember when he got the call. He just sat there for a while, thinking. When we talked about it, he said he was glad you were getting help.”
“What else did he say?” Bucky said with a knowing look in his eyes.
You rolled your eyes, “It’s Tony, Buck. He says anything and everything and means almost none of it.” Bucky didn’t expect you to use his nickname. He liked the sound of it coming from your voice.
“That doesn’t mean he forgave me.” Bucky said.
“Well I do, okay? So stop being such a grump. I’m trying to be your friend, just let me, would you?” You sighed as you began to work on his arm again.
The soldier gave a small sigh, “Stop wasting your time on me when you have a company to run.”
“Stop trying to push me away. Also, Pepper’s helping me run it, so I have all the time in the world.” You argued.
After a brief moment of silence, Bucky spoke again. “I’m still not sure I’m safe to be around,”
The honesty surprised you, making you glance up at him to observe his face. “I’m literally face to face with your arm, tool inside it, and you wanna say you aren’t safe?”
Your comment made Bucky give a small chuckle, “That’s not really what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean?” You asked.
Bucky gave a shaky breath, “In Madripoor, when I had to take down those guys when I was pretending to be.. him,” Bucky explained, “It’s like I could still feel him trying to break free.”
You set a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, making sure to avoid his scars. “Bucky, Wankanda said you’re a free man. The Winter Soldier’s gone.”
“Maybe I’m just so used to violence now.” Bucky offered, “Maybe it’s who I am.”
“No,” You replied quickly. “You are Bucky Barnes. You’re Steve’s best friend, Sergeant Barnes. You’re Sam’s friend, my friend, and you’re a survivor. You’re one hell of a fighter, you’re a victim who pushed through all his pain and suffering to become a better man, and that’s exactly who you are.” Your words left Bucky feeling like he could cry, but he just looked away. You didn’t know whether what you said was right or wrong.
“Thank you,” Bucky muttered as you began to work on his arm again.
“It’s no problem, Bucky.” You responded. You silently worked, trying to ignore the burning sensation of Bucky’s eyes poring holes into your head.
"This world doesn't deserve you," Bucky muttered as you worked. You simply hummed in reply, making Bucky's forehead crease. "I mean it, Stark. You're one of the best people in this world."
Rolling your eyes, you put away the last of your tools. "Bucky, I'm just being a decent person."
Bucky's eyes burned with a new passion, "No decent person would do all you've done for everyone you've ever come across." Before you could protest, Bucky's metal hand grabbed your chin softly. "Don't even try to argue, I know it can be hard for a Stark but can you hold your tongue?" When you didn't reply, Bucky continued. "You're so humble, so fuckin' sweet. I mean, you came all this way just to fix my arm."
"And to check on you," Your voice came out babbled as Bucky's hold on your chin was still present.
"I don't deserve your kindness," Bucky admitted, "But here you are, giving me all of it." His eyes bore into your own, his own actions betraying his mind as he slammed his lips tightly onto your own. It took you by surprise, but you happily returned the heated kiss as Bucky's hand slithered behind your neck.
"You deserve all of it, the whole world," You mumbled as you pulled away breathlessly. "The world did you dirty, and I'll be the one to wash you of it." With your words, Bucky felt his eyes water as he kissed you passionately again.
Once you pulled apart, Bucky wiped your lips with his thumb, a small smile on his lips. "Does that mean you're gonna stick around?"
"Yeah," you giggled, "I think it does."
818 notes · View notes
mariespen · 7 months
Text
Apology ༊*·˚
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Protective!Rafe x Fem!Reader ༊*· Summary: “Don’t need people seein’ what’s mine, a’ight?” Warnings: mild sexual implications
based on this request!
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You tapped around Tannyhill in your perfect little pink heels, trying to fix your hair before your boyfriend, Rafe Cameron, decided that it was too far past the time to leave. He had offered to take you shopping today as a half apology for being home at 2am last night on ‘private business.’ You’re sure that you would get the other half of the apology tonight.
“Princess..” Rafe called, warning you of his incoming annoyance.
Admittedly, you were pushing it by delaying the trip by about 2 hours in the first place. You quickly put on a thin layer of tinted lipstick and covered it with a thicker layer of gloss. Looking in the mirror and making sure your hair was even across your shoulders, you finally gave in and decided to make your way downstairs.
Rafe made you feel like you were meeting him for prom whenever you walked down the arching staircase. He looked at you with his eyes wide, a proud smile on his face.
“Gorgeous as always.” He said with a smile, spinning you around and grinning when you giggled at the small gesture.
You planted a soft kiss to his neck, pulling back and realizing that you had left a mark from your glossy lips. Your eyes widened while you tried to stifle any laughter that could slip.
“Hm?” Rafe asked, looking down at you with a love-coated look of confusion.
“Sorry, Rafe..” You moved your hand to start to wipe the faint and glossy red lip stain from his neck.
Your actions clicked in his head and he grinned down at you, pulling your hand away and shrugging casually.
“S’okay.” He said, proudly wearing your lips on his neck and brushing hair from your face before walking away to grab his keys, leaving you with blush erupting across your cheeks.
The small, pink purse that held your most important shopping necessities (lip gloss, mascara, and your pink digital camera) was strung up on his shoulder. Rafe gestured for you to walk out of the door next to him, waiting patiently as you smiled and bit your lip.
“What’s all that for?” He asked with a cocky smile, watching your ass sway with you as you walked out of the door.
“Nothin’..” You said with a giggle, holding his hand as the two of you walked to the car. 
Taking you shopping at expensive designer stores was something that Rafe had always taken pride in doing. His Prada sunglasses sat perched on his nose while he had your arm linked with his, keeping you close to him. Rafe was never good at telling you how much you meant to him, so he figured he would try and show you by buying everything you could ever want. After all, his most prized possession was practically skipping next to him, giving him a smile that melted his entire heart.
Rafe was never bored, trying his best to take mental notes of everything that you touched with any interest at all. Watching his girl thrive with happiness because of the small things that he was doing for you made him smile right along with you.
Every time that you would buy something, you instantly started to carry it in the oversized bags. You still weren’t fully used to this luxurious treatment, even after two years, so through muscle memory you always held your own bags. “Here baby, let me.” Rafe would insist every time without missing a beat.
At the end of your trip, his arms were filled to the brim with different bags from every different shop that you strolled into.
“I can take some, Rafe.” You said with a giddy smile, feeling guilty that your only baggage was the pink purse that you had insisted on carrying yourself.
It took you by surprise when he glared at you, almost as a warning. You were confused, not realizing how much he was against you doing the things that he wanted to do for you. Putting everything in the back of his sports car, you helped yourself into the passenger seat and waited patiently as he got into the driver’s seat. Without any hesitation, his hand was resting on your thigh the moment he got in.
“Thank you, Rafe.” You said with a smile, kissing him and letting him deepen it, feeling butterflies flutter in your stomach as your head went to the hazy place it always did when he kissed you like that.
The drive home was always his favorite part, your excited and rushed voice as you tried to tell him about everything you had gotten all at once. He let out a breathy chuckle as you stuttered over your words, smiling bigger when you laughed with him. 
Back at Tannyhill, Rafe had pulled in all of the bags and lined them up in the corner of your shared room. Out of excitement, you started to film a quick haul of your favorite items for your friends. Leaning the camera on a windowsill and preparing everything was easy enough, but being able to actually film anything was the bigger obstacle.
Rafe stood to the side, moving into the frame whenever you turned around or even to the side with the intention to block out your ass. 
“Rafe!” You whined, a pout showing across your face.
He raised his eyebrows at you, cocking his head in a look of warning.
When you finally cut the video and watched the whole thing back, you realized it was no good in the first place. Most of the video was Rafe’s leg blocking any view that the camera could have of absolutely anything. You let out an angry sigh as he watched over your shoulder.
“M’sorry baby..” He said, trying to hide his smug smile as he hugged you from behind and breathed in the Chanel perfume on your neck, “Don’t need people seein’ what’s mine, a’ight?”
You rolled your eyes but it was hard to be mad at him when you already felt his lips on your shoulder. 
“I forgive you..” You said, pretending to be annoyed as he flipped you around gently and kissed you again, this time on the lips.
“No baby.. let me show you how sorry I really am.” Rafe said with a smile, deepening the kiss and letting his hand run down from your back to your ass.
You let Rafe take control, knowing that the second part of your apology was playing out perfectly.
(lmk if anyone wants a pt 2!)
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632 notes · View notes
stargirlo · 7 months
Text
somber fem!reader
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i just can imagine how much ur boyfie misses you after u two break up :(
he'll go to a seedy bar and drink up until he feels numb on his body, his musky colgone is now replaced with a reeking scent of jack daniels whiskey as he looks completely wasted. holding the whole bottle lazily on his hand before he pours himself another cup of the brown liquid onto the well designed glass cup.
he even babbles about you to the bartender, showing him a picture of yourself that he keeps in his wallet everyday. "you see this- *hic* fine babe? yeah- *hic* i-i lost her two days ago..." he slurred out, eyes dropping low as he looks like he was about to throw up. the only response the bartender could make is either awkwardly chuckling or just saying a small "aw..." because really, he doesn't have the time to have a therapy session with a drunkard.
"s-she like uh-... broke up with me for i don't know what reason, uhmmm- ugh, i miss her s'much..." he whines, acting like he was about to cry. he misses you, he really does. numbing all his pain away from endless amount of shots from the whiskey cup and just slurring out incoherent words that clearly don't make sense. someone comfort this man :(
but as he tips over the barstool, he finally manages to leave the bar and head over his car. murmuring incoherent words and stumbling over the pavement flooring before he finally slams his body against the car door. he struggles a little bit, letting out a strained groan as he sits down at the drivers seat. poor man is tired, and he feels so lonely without your presence beside the passenger seat. you were his passenger princess, and he can't seem to get over you.
he's acting like a total loser right now.
he takes out his wallet again, flipping it open to reveal the picture of you. you were peacefully sleeping on his bed, hair tousled around the plush pillows, and a little puddle of drool seeping into the pillow covers. he chuckles at the picture before it was replaced with silent cries, tears dripping down his cheeks as a few droplets drip down to his jeans. he can't believe he lost you, over god knows what argument you two had both had.
he misses you so much that while he was crying he could feel his cock throbbing against his jeans. he was craving your touch, the way your hand palms his cock and stroke him so deliberately and deliciously with such delicate hands. god he misses it.
so without further ado his cock already sprung free from its confines, one hand holding the wallet while the other worked its way down to stroke his cock. he felt so desperate that he spits on his cock as a use of a lubricant, letting out a throaty groan and string of whispers, talking to himself and praising himself as if you were still there with him. pathetic whimpers fill in the spacious car, the windows slightly fogging up as his vision was already at haze.
all that his mind was clouded of was with images of you.
he still feels empty, even if he's bringing himself close to an orgasm. but he tried, he really tried to think that you're the one stroking his cock instead of he himself. "g-god i... ugh- i miss you s'much baby, holy fuck- please come back..." he murmurs under his breath, jaw clenching as his eyebrows pinch together, letting go of his orgasm. it wasn't particularly the best he could've had but... at least it was something he could do while thinking about you.
but honestly, he just wishes you were there with him. he wishes he could go back in time and fix things properly instead of being put up into this situation. but i guess time will tell, and it's how god had written its story between you and him.
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💌: gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento (who would break up with him?), hiromi higuruma, toji fushiguro (hear me out...), dazai osamu, odasaku, chuuya nakahara, manjiro sano, draken, rafe cameron, jj maybank, shinichiro sano, ++ your favs!!
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sphireath-wisp · 12 days
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Hihi!!! I was just wondering if you could do just little cute scenarios with sae, yoichi, and rin (gn! reader + all individual)
im sorry if this isn't as detailed as you wish but I'm just really craving tooth rotting fluff+ take your time (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)
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Sypnosis: In the busy hustle and bustle of life, it's sometimes hard to find time to spend together. When there's time, what are the hobbies/little things both of you do together?
Warning: My readers are always morally grey in some way because it's more realistic to me, not proofread
Author's note: Thank you so much for reaching out and giving me this ask! I'll try my best to weave my story together to match your request. I owe my friend a good favour, so I hope you don't mind me adding her BL favourite here. Thank you so much for your understanding ε(´。•᎑•`)っ 💕
Featuring: Sae Itoshi, Yoichi Isagi, Rin Itoshi x GN! reader
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SAE ITOSHI... finds himself most at ease during late-night drives with you in the passenger seat. The windows are down, you're sticking your head out of the car despite his multiple warnings, and he can't stop smiling. His free hand is reaching for you and tugging your shirt down, and his eyes drift to your pouting face in the rearview mirror.
Usually, his late-night drives together with you have no real destination. Acting purely on a whim, Sae always drives you wherever feels right. Sometimes, it's the port right by the beach. Other times, he's driving you to an empty parking lot. Today, he decides to let you have the privilege of choosing where to go.
And when you ultimately decide to go to a playground out of all places, he scoffs but does a U-turn without hesitation.
Is it currently 11 a.m. and does he have a schedule he almost-religiously follows? Yes, and he has a feeling that he won't have enough time to drink his salted kombucha tomorrow morning. Is he tired? Absolutely. Why would he do all of this when he knows damn well he has practice tomorrow?
Hell, he's asking himself that as he opens the car door for you and helps you out.
With a cheeky peck on Sae's cheek, you wash away his thoughts and he returns the favour with a kiss on your forehead. "Let's go get a new car, yeah?" Sae shuts the car door behind you. You're bewildered, to say the least, "I'll let you pick a design this time."
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"Look! It's here, it's here!" Your boyfriend, YOICHI ISAGI, geeks out in the manga section of your local bookstore. "Oh yeah, didn't they release figures already? Season 2 is being released soon, right?"
His smile only grows wider when you nod. He's crouching down beside you as you tower over him, leaning down slightly to watch him stare at the various covers. Standing back up on his feet with two in hand, Isagi seems to have reached a slight dilemma.
"Ah... should I get the latest chapter? Or should I..." Oh, isn't that the romance manga you recommended to him? The main couple was cheesy, but it reminded you a lot of how your relationship with Isagi is. Turning your head away, you find yourself stifling a giggle - how cute.
After a moment of deep thought, Isagi sulks. His shoulders slump and he kneels back down, placing both the mangas back on their shelves. Like a defeated puppy, he crouches there for a moment in silence.
"What's up?"
"I can't decide, so it's better if I don't get one or else I'll spend the rest of the day regretting it," He's solemn, your heart clenches when he forces an awkward smile. It's not a big deal, but... "You can borrow my copy y'know, don't be shy."
He perks up. It's a simple gesture, but the simplest things in life have always pleased Isagi the most. With a bashful laugh, he picks out the manga he wanted - he can indulge a little, he decides. "Right, I'm sorry. You didn't need to see how let down I was over something so small." Honestly, Isagi's a little shy. It's only been a few months into the relationship. He wants to respect you and your boundaries.
"I'll get you something in return, thank you."
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RIN ITOSHI yelps when he stumbles out of your bedroom to the dimly lit living room of your apartment, sucking back a hiss from the base of his throat when something jabs at his foot. His disappointment only grows when he lifts his foot to see the imprint of a Lego brick on the sole. "What do you think you're doing? At 1 in the morning?" The once groggy Rin Itoshi is now wide awake, meeting your avoidant gaze. As you continue to piece together your Lego set, you mumble, "...couldn't sleep. I usually don't have trouble, but I don't know what's up with me today."
Despite his reluctance, he walks over to you and plops onto the carpet beside you. "Aren't you a little too old for this?" Rin begins while mindlessly piecing bricks together. His back is against your shoulder, partially leaning his weight onto you.
You scoff once he grabs the manual. "You're one to talk," you retort as you pull apart Lego pieces, "In case you haven't realized it, you happen to be playing with my Lego set."
"In case you haven't realized it, I'm helping you, idiot," There's no real malice in his voice. He crosses his legs and straightens his spine, turning to gather the pieces in a pile and redo everything from scratch. You clearly seem to be struggling. He'll never admit it, but he doesn't like the aching gap in his chest when you're not in bed with him.
It's a good excuse in his head. He's simply helping you out so you'll return to his embrace as soon as possible. It's just that. He's totally not enjoying playing with Legos with you - he convinces himself mentally with starry eyes when you both finish the overwhelming set at 2:30 a.m.
"Phew! Now to take it apart!"
"Hell no."
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Taglist: @mikmwehehe, @saexy (while you did archive your old account, you are technically still on my list!! Please tell me if you want to get removed and I'll do it asap)
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hemmingsleclerc · 9 months
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Disneyland ┃CL16
summary: where the leclerc family spends a day at disneyland
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It was a warm day in Los Angeles and Charles was packing the last of his little daughter's things into her mini-backpack. He had decided to take a break from the busy world of racing to spend quality time with his girlfriend and his energetic 4-year-old daughter, Emma. He had decided to take his girls to Disneyland.
When they entered the huge park, Emma's eyes opened with excitement as she saw the Disney characters, the various games and the other children dressed as their favorite characters. Charles and Y/N exchanged smiles, knowing that this day would be filled with laughter and unforgettable memories.
The first stop was Fantasyland, where they entered classic attractions such as "It's a Small World" and the Mad Hatter's teacups where even though Emma was barely 4 years old, she loved speed and laughingly shouted at her parents to turn the wheel cup faster.
Right there, Emma insisted on dressing up, excusing herself that it was to feel the magic in a better way, so they entered the store where they sold the different costumes and let Emma freely choose what their clothes would be for the rest of the day.
Now, Charles dressed as Prince Charming, Y/N in the beautiful Cinderella dress and Emma dressed as a little Wendy, strolled through Adventureland, where they met pirates and sailed through the mysterious waters of the Pirates of the Caribbean attraction. Charles hugged Emma, while Y/N captured the funny image of them dressed as Disney characters with the pirates.
Emma, now a little ahead of them, was trying to run in the direction of the car ride, eager to ride the cars from one of her favorite movies.
''!Emma Jules don't run so fast!'' Charles shouted trying to reach his little daughter.
As the day progressed, the Leclerc family ran into beloved Disney characters, posed for photos, and enjoyed treats like Mickey-shaped ice cream, among other things. Emma insisted on meeting Peter Pan and Wendy, the characters of her current favorite movie, and Charles and Y/N happily agreed, following her daughter's enthusiasm.
The highlight of their day was a surprise meeting with Mickey Mouse and Minnie themselves. Emma's eyes widened in pure amazement as she hugged the iconic characters. Charles and Y/N exchanged a proud look, grateful for this opportunity to make precious memories for their daughter.
As the sun began to set, the family rushed to see the spectacular fireworks show in the front row. Emma sat on Charles' shoulders, pointing to the sky in wonder as explosions of color lit up the night.
Leaving the park, tired but happy, Charles and Y/N , with their daughter in their arms, headed to their car. The little girl had fallen exhausted after that day.
While Y/N placed Emma in her seat, Charles tried to unbutton the collar of that costume they were still wearing.
''What are you doing Charlie?''
''I've been choking on this costume all day but I didn't want to take it off for Emma. These things are not designed for people with f1 driver necks''
''Let me help you'' his girlfriend laugh
With a little effort they managed to noticeably loosen the collar of the suit and then climbed into their respective seats to reach the comfort of their hotel to rest.
''¿Do you think she had fun?'' charles said in a low voice trying not to wake up his daughter in the back seat.
''I'm sure she had the best time, baby, plus, I got to see you in that cute costume all day. You looked very handsome''
''What can I say? Although you are not far behind, you look beautiful in that dress, did you know that Cinderella is one of my favorite movies?'' he said smiling
''Oh shut up'' Y/N covered her mouth trying to silence her laughter.
They indeed had the best time.
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cheriladycl01 · 10 months
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The Rookie Prodigy - Carlos Sainz x Driver! Reader Part 1
Plot: You are a rookie coming into the 2022 season of Formula one into Alfa Romeo with team member Zhou Guanyu, being in a mid tier team can you help them rise up the ranks. What pressures occur for the only rookie within the 2022 line up!
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"We have had some amazing announcements this year. We only have two rookies on the grid this year that have a confirmed seat both in Alfa Romeo. So it should be an interesting season for them!" the first reporter says while walking around the paddock.
"Yes, its very uncommon to see a team take on two rookies in the same season, so it'll be interesting to see if they under perform based on these statistics or not" the other one admits.
Currently you were sat with Zhou your current team mate, he was teaching you a little bit of Chinese at your request.
"Are you nervous for today?" you ask him, you'd both done lots of media over the break so people could get to know you before the season start in Bahrain had begun.
"A little, but we will drive the very best that we can. I know it" he says pulling you into a side hug. You'd gotten very close to your team mate, both being rookies on the same team made you both sort of outcasts on the grid. Today would be your first time talking to the other 18 drivers.
"We'll be fine i promise" he says before walking towards his car in the Alpha Romeo garage, you walk over to your race engineer Paul and go through the different strategies to make sure you know what each one means.
"Okay, its time for your first race, you got this. Remember your starting P11 and Zhou is starting P15. So you just got to make up some pace, and you'll be in points region. Get a good start, and overtake Esteban while defending from Mick, Lando may help you with that but you'll need to then defend from him" he advices and you nod. You take your helmet that your best friend designed for you on place it over your head.
Paul, taps the back of your helmet covered head, before bumping fits with you. You pull yourself into the car under the halo before placing the wheel on.
"Okay, lets go and grab some points" Paul says after he'd checked the radio to make sure you had good connection.
At the start lights you had an impeccable start going wide on the outside of Ocon and Gasly and moving into 9th place. Lando had managed to overtake Mick and was gaining.
"Amazing start Y/N P9 as of now. George ahead, attempt overtake at turn 4. He's 0.4 seconds ahead" you hear your race engineer point out. You can see the Mercedes ahead, and going into turn for you go for the risky move and break later than George. You gave him enough room and he swung wide, not wanting to damage the car giving you a gap to get through.
"What's this Martin! Y/N is storming through this track, starting in P11 and she's already made her way up to P8 taking over drivers who have been in F1 much longer than her. This is some incredible driving we are seeing"
Eventually you had to pit, but it was an exceptionally fast pit-stop that was well timed from your team and had you coming out behind Gasly . You went a few laps, dancing around with him where you both had the pace, but the minute your tires warmed up and his had worn out enough you ploughed on ahead creating a large time gap along the straight.
"You've got Alonso ahead, 1.2 second gap, lets close it on those Sector 2 corners" Paul directs. In no time you make your way up to P6, Magnussen was ahead in P5.
"How many laps left? Can i catch him?" you ask your engineer.
"2 seconds ahead and 10 laps, you can catch him if you speed up Sector 1" he advises. You put you head to it, and managed to overtake.
"This is insane Alfa Romeo are storming this season along with Ferrari, right now, we have Charles Leclerc in P1, Carlos Sainz in P2, Lewis Hamilton in P3 and oh what is this, its NOT, i repeat NOT a double finish for Mercedes, Y/N has overtaken George Russell even on the older tires. And her counter part in Alfa Romeo is in P9 this is an amazing start to the season for the two Ferrari teams"
"AND THAT'S IT CHARLES LECLERC HAS COME FIRST AT BAHRAIN, SAINZ IN SECOND, HAMILTON IN THIRD"
"You've done it Y/N that's P4 we now have 14 points at the starts of the season!" Paul voices. You pull up jumping out your car and hugging everyone.
"I don't think i could have done it if Max and Checo finished, they would have come ahead of me!" you admit, you pull your helmet off balaclava coming off with it. The top bit of your hair was sheened with sweat. You run your hands through it trying to get some more volume through it.
"You'll be in an interview with the TOP 5, from today" Fred says patting your back, he guides you to where the interviews out there.
"Oh Carlos, Charles come say hello to Y/N you haven't met her yet!" Fred offers you up and the two Ferrari boys come over.
"Wow, you are more beautiful in real life than you are in your driver picture!" Carlos says taking your hand and kissing it, a blush coming onto your face.
"You are a fantastic rookie!" Charles compliments pulling you into a hug before offering you up his water. You nod realizing you hadn't picked yours up from the garage.
"Thank you, I'm dying" you joke, and sky from his Ferrari bottle before handing it back to him.
"Omg that's Lewis Hamilton" you whisper looking over at the 7 time world champion that was ahead of you.
"Why didn't we get that reaction mi hermosa?" Carlos asks, and you blush.
"It's Lewis Hamilton!" you say just looking at him in awe.
"Hey great race today Y/L/N. Haven't seen a rookie like you since myself"
"Oh my god" you says in awe. He pulls you into a hug and starts to ask you questions, while Carlos keeps interrupting.
"Well its actually funny because I've been watching you for the last two years in F2" Carlos says as Lewis asks you what prior championships you'd won and how you'd got your seat in Alfa Romeo.
"Oh, you did?" you ask.
"Yeah I actually came to the garage one time, not yours but i was there!"
"That's cool man, I also kept up with her career. I just like to ask so people can gloat about their own achievements, its good for the soul" he smiled a little awkwardly at Carlos and his sudden need to prove that he, knew you better? Is that what that was?
"Come on guys, time for interviews" one of the directors call, George, Lewis and Charles start to walk through but Carlos grabs your hand and holds you back.
"Come out with me tonight, to celebrate?" he asks, however your PR manager comes out and pulls you away from him.
Taglist:
@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall
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ghoularaki · 7 months
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baby's breath | 1
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↠  summary: Merely by coincidence, Erwin, your father's former friend had crossed paths with you again after nearly a decade. He offered solace once finding out you were struggling with not just school, but your home life as well. His home he shared with another one of your father's friends, Levi, became a sanctuary. Though, the more you came over for study sessions, the more they wiggled themselves into your private life. And like baby's breath, they weeded themselves in so deep you couldn't uproot them.
↠ word count: 4,719
↠ pairing: levi ackerman x reader x erwin smith
↠ genre/warnings: angst, smut, modern au, DARK CONTENT, yandere, noncon/dubcon, daddy kink, forced infantilism, pet play, age gap, death threats, human trafficking, bdsm
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Proudly you could say, you were doing well by yourself. Life hasn't been the kindest to you. By the age of eighteen you had been kicked out of your home over ten times. To say the relationship between your family was rocky would be an understatement. For a couple years now, you hopped from place to place. 
In the current climate, you were having trouble finding an apartment to live in so you either slept in your car or spent your day in the university library. Residing in the dorms simply wasn’t an option as your scholarship wouldn’t cover the nearly ten-thousands of dollars it would be. And you weren’t about to send yourself in further into debt. 
You supposed this was expected of going to such a prestigious college town, but your options were limited. Wracking a hand down your face, you were barely paying attention when a voice called your name.
“Y/n! Is that you?” The voice called from the left of you. 
Looking up from where you were about to open the door to a coffee shop you frequented, just to spot a face you hadn’t seen since you were a preteen. 
“Mr. Smith?” 
With his stature he made quick work to close the distance to you. The man had barely changed even after the decade you last saw him. 
He laughed and waved his hand flippantly, “Please, call me Erwin.”
Slightly uncomfortable, you said, “How are you, Erwin?” You never really did the best with small talk. 
The egregious man easily put a hand over your head to fully open the door. “Come, let’s catch up over coffee.”
Already too late to refuse, you walked closely behind and followed his lead. Erwin picked a spot near the window with two wooden chairs. The coffee shop was quaint with a scheme of different clashing furniture. On lucky days you could snag the cushioned recliner. Painted on the circle table in front of you two was a faded sunflower and tiny, white flowers. As he sat down, the rickety chair groaned from his mass. 
Settling in your seat, Erwin was already looking at you, a whimsical expression on his face. “What do you want, I’ll order for you.”
“You don’t have to do that,” You bent down to grab your bag, but he raised a hand to stop you.
“I insist.”
Leaving you no room to resist, you replied, “I will just have a hot chocolate.” 
A chuckle left him at what you assumed was because of the childish request. You weren’t privy to coffee and the tea here wasn’t the best. He got up to order your drinks and you fiddled with your phone while waiting for him. 
Tapping your phone against your forehead, you questioned how you got yourself in this situation. There was nothing wrong with Erwin, it’s merely because he was friends with your father. You didn’t want to judge him based on your strained relationship, but you barely remembered Erwin beside brief glimaces. He was a suave man who knew how to command a room. Obviously, with how he got you to join him for coffee without even lifting a finger. It might have more to say about you than him.
“Here’s your drink,” Shooting up from your slouched position, Erwin approached with both cups. His was a ceramic mug with swirling black and white designs. It suited him. Yours was a dainty, pink and ivory china tea cup. Even as the years passed, he saw you as a little girl. 
Going back to his seat, he took a sip of his coffee. “I must say, you have grown. A lot. I almost didn’t recognize you. You really have grown into a beautiful woman.”
Coughing, your face heated up enough to cook an egg on it. “I- uh thanks. You don’t look any different.”
He really didn’t, despite him being in his forties, he surely didn’t look it. Crow’s feet crinkled at his eyes and fine lines imprinted on his forehead and near the corners of his lips, but besides that he didn’t age a bit from your childhood. 
Erwin’s bushy eyebrow quirked up in amusement, “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
Realizing how insulting that can come off, you laughed and explained yourself. “Yes, it was supposed to be a compliment.”
Taking it in stride, he gestured for you to drink your hot chocolate. You blew on it and sipped on the chocolatey beverage, humming, content with the flavor. 
“So what have you been up to? Last time I spoke to your father he said you had left home.”
You rolled your eyes with scoff, “We both know that’s a lie.”
“I’m taking it, he kicked you out again?” 
Even with the decade of not seeing him, he knew your family never really favored you. You weren’t a problem child per se, you just had no qualms of standing up for yourself compared to your jelly-spined siblings. 
“When doesn’t he,” You joked and you were met with a chortle, but his face showed concern. 
“Are you holding up?” 
You hated how the tone shifted to something serious. Playing it off, you smiled, “Besides with my History homework, I think I’m doing just fine.” 
Erwin reached over the table and placed his hand over yours. His palm easily engulfed your hand. Warmth spread from his skin to yours. “If you need help, please don’t be a stranger. And for the homework, why don’t you come over tomorrow and I can help. I am a professor, you know?”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude,” You grimaced, unsure of whether or not to accept his help. On one hand, you hadn’t seen him in years. On the other, you really did need assistance. If you failed this class, you’ll lose your scholarship and you couldn't afford that. 
He reached behind himself and pulled his phone from his back pocket. Unlocking it swiftly with his thumb, he pulled out a new contact and nodded his head towards the phone. “Put in your phone number and I will give you my address. Unless you need a ride?”
You shook your head, “No, no. I can get there myself. Thank you so much.”
Plugging your phone number in, you handed the contraption back to him. His thumb flew across the screen and your own phone buzzed against the table. On your lock screen you spied he already gave you an address and to meet him at one PM. 
“Does that work for you?” 
  Smiling up at him, you quipped, “Certainly. See you then.”
Glancing back at his phone, he sighed, “I must go or else I will be late for my next class. If anything comes up, don’t be afraid to message me. Goodbye, Y/n.”
With that, he got up from his seat and briskly walked out of the coffee shop. Through the glass, he had a certain twang to his walk as he approached his fancy, black car. Almost like he was giddy. Once he was out of view, you slammed your head against the table and groaned. Screw you and your inability to say no. At least you were getting a free tutor out of this. 
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“Rich fucking bastard,” You muttered under your breath as you pulled up to his home.
His house was old styled with light colored bricks and black framing. The abode strayed from civilization. His neighbors were across the acres of woods surrounding the area. Between the foliage, their lights peeked through, but still distant. 
The driveway was paved and you thanked his income as you had no clue if your car could handle a dirt road. The old model had been with you for years, but it was reaching its end. Parked by his own car and you observed how there was another car by his. The model was a matching hue, but was a medium sized truck instead. You tilted your head in perplexity as to why a professor would need such a vehicle. Especially as you spotted various tools in the bed. 
Wisping away the dwindling thoughts, you tugged your ratty backpack from your passenger seat. As you stepped out, you felt so drab compared to the scenery. Slinging the backpack higher over your shoulder, you walked up and rapped on the door. You debated whether or not to text Erwin you were, but the thought of him escorting you from your car to his porch was humiliating. You were a big girl, you could go up to a door and knock. 
The man who opened the door certainly was not Erwin. He was definitely shorter than him, but the way he crossed his arms, you could tell with how the muscle rippled under the fabric, not to underestimate him. The man’s hair was inky strands parted to the side that fell under his eyes. Silver clashed with your own irises, sharp and analytical. He picked you apart as much as you did him. 
“You must be the brat.” If his words weren’t so belittling you would say his voice was soothing. A deep, dark timbre pleasant to your ears. Likened to how the ocean culls. 
Your face twitched and decided to ignore his taunt, “Where’s Erwin?”
The man’s eyes flashed with something you couldn’t decipher as he opened the door further. Taking that as you cue, you walked further into the home. The interior was just as grandeur as the outside. Muted colors were splattered across the living. Rich people loved their minimalism and you weren’t surprised the home barely had anything of importance in it. There were picture frames of Erwin with other people you didn’t recognize besides the man who directed from the mud room. 
“Take off your shoes,” He instructed, not answering your question. 
Toeing off your sneakers, socked feet welcomed the cool carpet. As you opened your mouth to repeat yourself, Erwin perked up from his recliner in the living room. Thumbing the off button of his phone, he placed it on the cushions and went to greet you. 
“I see you met Levi.”
“You could say that.”
The man you now know named Levi walked off with a grunt into the kitchen. What a charmer. Erwin beckoned you over with his hand like you would a dog. Patting the empty spot on the couch, you walk over and take a seat. Slacking your shoulder, your bag tumbled to your side. 
“Is there anything you would like to drink?” Erwin offered. 
“Just water is fine.”
As the older man went to fetch the beverage, Levi called from the kitchen, “I also have some tea brewing?”
You perked up at that. Levi didn’t give you the impression of someone who liked tea, but the more you think about it, it suited him. He did give off grumpy, old man vibes. 
“What kind?”
Instead of answering, he came out of the kitchen with a tray of two tea cups and a fancy kettle. The metal and china clinked together as he placed it down. A sweet, mild aroma filled the air as he poured both cups half way. You spied the odd way he held the cup around the brim. 
Levi sat on the recliner adjacent to the couch Erwin was once in. Reaching over for your own drink, you sipped it and let out a happy hum at the taste. His eyes flickered with something you couldn’t really decipher. Though, you assumed delight as he adjusted himself closer to the edge of his seat. 
“This is really good! Is this green tea?”
“No, white.” 
Erwin and Levi glanced at each other. You ignored it. The cushion dipped when Erwin sat at a respectful distance from you. You were caged between the two older men. Yet, you weren’t uncomfortable in the least. “So what are you having trouble with?”
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In the time you had reconnected with Erwin, he had helped you get back on your feet. After what seemed to be the eleventh time coming over his house, you let it slip, you were living out of your car. The shock befallen on the man’s face surprised you. He seemed almost offended you went so long without telling him of your living situation. It wasn’t like you were keeping it a secret from him. The topic simply never came up in conversation. 
Immediately after hearing the news, Erwin brought you into his home office and helped you search for apartments. You refused and explained you couldn’t get one not out of choice, but because you didn’t make enough money or have a credit score. 
“I can help pay for it if that’s the issue,” He said casually.
“That’s asking for way too much.”
Twisting himself to face you in his rolling chair right next to yours, he continued, “If it was too much, I wouldn’t be offering it.”
“Yes, and I’m saying it’s too much,” You emphasized the ‘I’m’ to express how uncomfortable it made you feel.
For the first time in your life, you watched Erwin’s face steel in annoyance. His nostrils heaved out a slight flare and his thick eyebrow ticked. “You’re incredibly stubborn, you know that?”
Smiling, you offered a quick, “Yep!” 
“Since you refuse to let me pay for the apartment, at least let me find you a better job so then that issue is tackled,” He opened a new tab and put in his own bank, “Right now, let’s sign you up for credit card.” 
Unable to refuse the more palpable help, you followed along as he lectured about credit scores. In a couple months, you were able to become an almost fully functional adult, no longer needing to sleep in your car or shower in the school’s gym. Your apartment was quaint and small, and only a ten minute walk from the campus. 
Even though Erwin got you back up on your feet, you still frequently came to him and Levi’s home for school help. And for a more embarrassing reason, those two were your only source of companionship. Having two grown men, one two decades older and the other almost two decades older, be your friends must seem pathetic. Yet, you couldn’t complain when you noticed your favorite food always stocked in the pantry or how Levi let you drink his precious tea. 
Both men had a key to your apartment in case of emergency and also gave you your own copy of a house key for the same reason. In a very long time, you felt safe, warm and protected. 
Despite having a key, you still knocked on the front door. Rocking from heel to toe, you were greeted with Levi instead of Erwin. Very similar to the first time you visited. 
“Erwin is going to be late. Shitty department heads had to hold a meeting,” Levi’s gruff voice explained. 
“That’s fine, just more time for me to bother you.”
The older man clicked his tongue. 
Levi was a tough person to pinpoint. He was grumpy, stoic, cussed like a sailor, but oddly gentle and patient. He could easily read the room and fill in what was left gaping. As much as he put up a cold front, he showed his affections in tiny gestures. He would act annoyed at you or Erwin’s playful behavior, but he never did push either of you away. 
“I’m going to make tea. Don’t make a mess.”
You rolled your eyes, “I’m not a child. I’m not going to start throwing shit.”
He swung his head around the corner and glowered at you, “Knock off your shitty attitude.”
“Knock off treating me like a baby. Both you and Erwin do it.”
“Because you are a baby,” He went back to the tea and you followed him into the kitchen.
You hopped on the counter next to the stove and started swinging your legs. Levi glanced at you, before going back to the kettle. 
“How am I a baby? I’m literally in my twenties.”
With a gentle hand, he gripped your calf. You stopped in shock. Not once had he ever touched you. His palm engulfed your shin and a shiver went up your spine at the warmth. You attempted to move your leg, but it didn’t budge. Levi clutched onto the appendage further. 
“I don’t remember seeing an adult swing their legs like a kid on a swing.”
You opened your mouth to counter, but shut it once again with a ‘hmph!’ He did have a point. 
He removed himself from you as quickly as he clung on. The shape of his hand lingered. 
“I-I’m going to go to the bathroom.”
Leaping off the counter, you didn’t let Levi answer as you barrelled towards the hall. It was hard to describe the sensation settling in your chest. Sure, the touch was innocent enough, but how he easily held you down with a firm hand was discombobulating. 
As you skittered deeper into the home, you noticed a door slightly ajar. During your stay here, you never really did stray from any other places besides the living room, the bathroom and Erwin’s office. Everything else was a mystery in the large home. 
Curiosity getting the better of you, you slowly approached the door. One foot in front of the other, your hand stayed outstretched. Just as your hand cradled the knob, the door slammed closed. You screeched and jumped. 
A looming presence encompassed your hunched frame. Turning your head, there stood Erwin with an overly pleasant smile on his face. His arm was outstretched where he closed the door with a large, forceful palm. 
“Let’s not overstay our welcome, shall we?” 
You gulped, goosebumps shot all over your skin. The air was sub zero as you trembled. Something shifted out of place and it wasn’t the doorframe. 
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Since the day you almost found out what was in the other room, the men appeared to be on edge. You tested it while both men were preoccupied and said room was now locked. Whatever was in there, they did not want you finding out. This only furthered your curiosity. 
As the days bled more into each other, Erwin became overbearing. Since exam season had arrived once more, you were too busy to visit the luxurious home. What was a couple visits a week, turned into maybe once a week, if that. When you did come over Erwin would hound you about living with him since you said both working and going to school was wearing you down. Of course, you refused. You finally obtained stability and freedom, why would you give that away?
You held your head in your hands, sitting in the chair Erwin bought you for his office. Stress was getting to the both of you. 
“Erwin, for the last time, I am not going to move in here,” You glanced up from your slouched position. 
He grew so much taller from this angle. Like a god sitting on top of his cloud. 
“I don’t understand why it’s such a big deal for me to provide for you. I have more than enough money to go around, it won’t hinder me in any way.”
You sighed, “Yes, I get that. We both get that. But you aren’t seeing my side at all!”
He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, “Please enlighten me.”
You wanted to pull your hair out. This wasn’t something you haven’t told him before. “You are treating me like I am a defenseless child that needs to be coddled. I am thankful for the help since without you I would probably still be living in my car, but that’s not the point. I am stable and I don’t need you to hold my hand anymore.”
“So you admit it; you wouldn’t be a functional adult without me.”
Ire built in your throat and you spat it out, “I would have never accepted it if you were just going to throw it back in my fucking face.”
“Language.”
Your mouth dropped in a disbelieving smile. You launched yourself backward from the chair to assert yourself taller than him. It did very little. 
Pointing your finger in his face, his complexion stayed unamused, “Right there. Stop belittling me. We are two adults having a conversation, treat me as so.”
He emerged from his seat and took back his place as the one with a height advantage. You were easily knocked down a couple pegs.  
“An adult wouldn’t shove fingers in people’s faces,” His tone stern, tittering towards anger. 
“Can you blame me! I get it, you are old enough to be my dad, but I don’t appreciate you acting like you are.”
“I am hardly acting like your father.”
“You’re twisting my words!” 
His nostrils flared, “Watch your tone.”
“Fuck off.” The choice words weren’t probably the smartest, but you were at your limit as he was. 
All you saw were icy blue eyes darken before your face swung to the side and your collapsed into the office desk. Your cheek caught on his paper weight. You fell into the wood with an audible clunk and bang. Clutching on your injured cheek, you glared up at Erwin. 
“Nope,” Was all you said.
Detaching yourself from the wood, you cradled your face as you stumbled out of the office into the hallway.
“Y/n, wait!” Erwin called from behind, but you only shuffled faster.
Blood stabbed your tongue. You licked your bottom lip. The force had cut the skin as well. 
“At least let me clean the wound,” He begged.
Now in the living room, Levi poked his head out from where he was sitting on the couch. His eyes caught the tears bubbling over and how you cradled your face.
“The wound?” Levi’s focus was now on a stressed Erwin trying to hover over you. “What the fuck happened?”
Erwin tried to answer, but you beat him to it, “He hit me and I’m leaving.”
At that, he shot up from the couch and rounded the side, “Whoa, whoa, slow down. What did you do?”
“I-I don’t know,” Erwin was in a daze. 
Levi walked over to you and tried to pry your hand from your swelling cheek, but you shook your head away from his grasp. 
“I’m leaving,” You repeated and shoved past him.
Before he could even get a word out, you slammed the door closed and ran to your car. Shakely grasping your keys, you unlocked your door and slumped into the seat. You slammed your hands against the wheel and screeched. Tears streamed down, irritating the wound. 
Roughly wiping away the salty water, you buckled yourself up and put the car into drive. As you rounded the driveway, you swore to yourself to be smarter next time. Depending on others was a debt you couldn’t afford. 
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You wanted to claw your skin off, screech, throw shit—anything to release the pent up wrath inside your gut. It had been weeks since you promised yourself you would never come back to Erwin and Levi’s household, and yet, here you were. During the time you eradicated yourself from their lives, Erwin had blown up your phone with varying types of messages. They stemmed from pleading to him demanding you answer him. Levi only offered one message the whole time.
“Make sure to keep the wound clean.”
The gesture was sweet, but in the moment, it felt infantilizing. You knew how to take care of a tiny cut. After the fiftieth call, you blocked Erwin’s number. 
Radio silence met you for a couple days until you realized you couldn’t access your bank account. Then you got a call that you were fired from work. Next was the message you got from your landlord that you have an eviction notice despite paying rent on time. The last straw was when you tried to call your landlord back only to be told your phone had been shut off. 
“Idiot. You’re a fucking idiot,” You muttered to yourself. You had trusted Erwin way too much with your finances and now you were stranded. You barely even had enough gas in your tank to get you out of exact proximity to their house if shit went down. 
Slamming the door closed, you marched your way over to the entrance and banged on it as hard as you could. As if expecting you, Levi opened the door. His face was a lot more haggard than the last time you saw him. His under eyes were darker, the purplish hue sunk deep into the skin. 
“Where the fuck is he?”
Levi merely sighed and sidestepped to let you go on your rampage. There, sitting in the living room, Erwin had his ankle resting on his knee. Carefree as ever. 
“Care to tell me why the fuck I can’t get access to my bank account or my landlord won’t let me into my own goddamn apartment!” Your voice bellowed and sunk into the walls.
Erwin’s expression of cold steel did not waver in your anger. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”
“I’m not here to play fucking games, Asshat,” You sneered. Whatever patience and timidness you had when first meeting him dissipated. You wanted your life back. 
“Watch it,” Erwin ordered. He arose from his seat, taking the high ground once more. From behind you, Levi made himself comfortable against the wall with arms crossed. 
“Now is not the time! I don’t know what you’re trying to do but I need money and my apartment to live, Erwin.”
“I can take care of you.” Like a broken record, he refused to see reason.
You clutched your head in frustration. Nails dug into your scalp as you fight off the tears threatening to keel over. “Listen to me,” You begged. 
“I have been listening and I don’t see why you would rather suffer than let me give you a life of comfort.”
You closed your eyes and moved your hands to dig your heels into the sockets. Letting out a shaking exhale, you said, “I am not going to throw my life away to be forced into a home where I am nothing better than a dog. A comfortable dog, but one nonetheless.”
“It wouldn’t be forever, just until you’re done with school,” Erwin tried to negotiate but you saw through it. 
“And then it will be until I’m done with grad school, then pushed further until I find a job that suits my degree, and then it's until the income is high enough for your standards. You will never be satisfied.”
Erwin’s jaw ticked. There’s nothing to be said as you laid out in front of him exactly what he planned to do. He only wanted to give you the world and you wanted nothing of it. 
“See! You can’t even deny it,” You laughed out loud, in hysterics. 
“You’re acting like I’m shackling you to the basement. All I’m asking is that you live here with me—us—so you can finish your schooling worry free.”
“A decorated cage is still a cage.” 
“Listen here,” He began as he approached with thunderous steps. 
You stumbled backwards before solidifying your footing. You weren’t going to allow him to intimidate you. 
“No, you listen here. I am done with you. If I have to, I will live in my car again. I am leaving.”
As Erwin comprehended your threat wasn’t empty, he glanced at Levi who stayed silent the whole time. Similar to a panther on the prowl, waiting. He kicked off the wall and sauntered over to your form.
Attempting to spin around to run out the house, Levi slung an arm across your neck and dug his forearm into your throat. He squeezed as you scrambled to slide your fingers in between your neck and the muscle. Your fingernails were no match for his ropey tendons.
Obviously you struggled, but it's nothing against the burly man. Even with his stature, he was stronger than Erwin. With his free hand he tugged a syringe from his pocket. He bit off the cap with his teeth and spat it out off into the room. The sharp prick hit the fragile skin of your flesh. Something was depleted into your veins. Your lips tingled as the oxygen left your lungs and the room spun round and round. Nausea crept in as your eyes crossed.
“See you soon, Pet.”
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florallylly · 8 months
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i've seen model steve harrington aus. i've seen child steve harrington aus. i present: child model steve harrington
note: this came from my own desperate need to see this conceptualized and i SWEAR i've searched, i just can't find any content with child model steve so. :(
bc little steve harrington was remarkably cherub-like. his large brown eyes and soft pout ensured endless cooing and fussing from his mom's friends. and when he blushed and ducked his head in shyness, they only complimented him more. when he got home that day, his mom smiled at him.
so steve decided that he would put up with the cheek pinching and the squealing. he sat upright in his chair, sitting on his hands so he wouldn't fidget and ruin the image. because he'd do anything to keep his mom smiling at him. if he was being particularly good that day, she'd let him lay his head on her lap on the drive back home.
but everything changed at his father's birthday gala. a nearly eight year old steve harrington sat prim and proper in his seat, but a smile lit up his face--his cheeks round and his dimples showing up. he raised his hand up to cover his giggle, but he couldn't help but laugh at some silly old man with a loose toupee. then he sees his mom approaching, and his face quickly smooths over, going back to the more polite smile he usually adopted when it came to these events.
he'd ruined it. he hadn't continued being the sweet boy his mom wanted. but then, she smiles at him. and introduces him to the man behind her, who says he's a designer. the man holds out his hand, but when steve puts his hand into his palm, he doesn't shake it. the man simply holds his hand, his eyes scanning steve's face. steve tries not to squirm under the attention. but the man nods and smiles at his mom, and he gives two brief cheek kisses to steve, whispering in his ear "you're going to be a star, darling." steve looks at his mom, confused, but she waves him off to continue talking to the man.
a few months later, steve's mom whisks him off on a trip to france. and steve is so excited to go, nearly vibrating in his seat as the airplane prepares to take off. but instead of the eiffel tower and the seine, steve is taken to a studio. he's posed and changed. once again, he's being fussed over, but instead of wealthy socialites, gossiping make-up artists squeal over him. he's "perfect for the shoot" and "the most darling little boy." steve doesn't understand, but his mom is still smiling, so he lets the nice ladies brush powder over his face.
and he looks in the mirror. his hair is a little more tousled and his lips have a slight tint to them and his eyes seem to take up much of his face. he's put into new clothes, and he feels like a doll in their hands. and when he's put in front of the camera, he simply follows the photographer's directions. afterwards, he's bundled into the car and his mom can't stop gushing about how good he was.
apparently, he's a natural. and then she goes back to fussing over him, focusing more on appearance than his behavior now. but she takes him out shopping and they eat at an upscale restaurant along the champs-elysses. and steve is happy.
and then they go back home, and his mom is so much stricter than before. she has him try out all kinds of different hair products, determined to find the best combination to keep it looking shiny and soft. she controls his food intake and what he wears and makes him use weird creams and serums on his face. but this is what makes his mom happy, so he's happy to let her.
his mom is also on the phone a lot more lately, whispering harshly about the quality of brands and steve just assumes she's being picky about the clothes she buys. later, his mom picks him up and holds him, and asks if he'd like to move to italy. she looks at him intently and it's obvious what answer she wants, so steve nods. she smiles and holds him close, and it's the most loved steve has felt in a while.
so they move to italy, and suddenly steve is a lot more busy. he's put in front of more cameras for more people he doesn't know. but he's smiling and pouting and doing whatever they want him to do. his compliant attitude and polite nature have photographers and designers alike singing his praises, and steve always looks to his mom for approval. but she's been arguing with his dad a lot lately, so she's upset more often than not. but that's okay, the make-up artists are always kind to him.
but then one day, his mom takes a phone call in the middle of the shoot. and when it finishes, she's gone. steve goes back in, close to tears, but the make-up artists still hanging around look after him until a car is sent to pick him up. this becomes a trend. and eventually, steve goes alone to his shoots. he's always taken care of by the crew and someone is always there to pick him up, but it's not fun without his mom there.
but he knows that she's always enjoyed him taking pictures, so he continues to do so, hoping that she'll come watch him again sometime soon. and he busies himself with befriending the chatty make-up artists and the bossy photographers and the eccentric designers. and he's such a cute little thing that they can't help but dote on him.
steve is never catapulted into child stardom, as his mom is picky with his jobs, only choosing luxury brands and well known designers for him. but within the industry, they call him the "little prince."
and then steve is catapulted into puberty, but his intense skin regimen prevents him from getting acne, save for the occasional zit. and his diet and religious exercise schedule help maintain his look. and he's still doing remarkably well, especially now that he's fully aware that he is a Model.
and steve has truly grown into his looks. with time, he's grown more comfortable in front of the camera and made numerous friends. nearly all of them are older than him, but they're fun and loud and it fills up the space that normally surrounds him. and they're the ones who get him hooked on american movies. steve remembers living in america, but he's been in milan so long that everything he recalls is vague.
but he watches them and falls in love with the american high school experience. so when he finally catches his mom off the phone and actually in the house, steve asks if he can go to school in america. and his mom laughs. but steve keeps asking, which devolves into begging. and his mother snaps, slapping him across the face and calling him ungrateful. she cries and begs for forgiveness, cowed into shame by steve's desperate attempt to hold back tears.
and so she lets him go to school in hawkins, indiana. an odd choice, but his parents just so happened to own a property there. (in truth, both of his parents expected him to change his mind within the year). but steve finds his place at hawkins high, because even though nobody in hawkins has ever heard of versace, steve is pretty. he's pretty and charming and he knows the right thing to say. after all, he's spent his whole life perfecting his mask.
and even if his mom ended up moving back home with his dad, leaving steve all alone in that big empty house, steve is happy. he's finally hanging out with people his age and high school is so far removed from the glitz and glam of the fashion industry. and he's settled and content with tommy and carol by his side. while he misses his friends back in milan, steve finds himself longing for the clothes more often. hawkins was certainly the opposite of milan, what with the nearest mall being two hours away and only equipped with a macy's and jcpenny.
through it all, steve is determined to be normal. he laughs along with jokes he doesn't quite get and rolls his eyes at carol's cue, and he joins the swim team. and he joins the basketball team. and he goes to parties and kisses girls and wears dumb little polos with his letterman jacket and does everything that he saw in the movies.
but nancy wheeler is different. steve can't forget his time in italy and who he is and was, and he's reminded of his old life in everyone and everything in hawkins. but not nancy wheeler. she's all hawkins and all his. and then the upside down happens.
and then nancy wheeler breaks his heart.
even after three years, his parents continue to ask when he'll go back to modeling, but he's different now. the upside down and billy hargrove beat that starry eyed little kid who thrived in the spotlight. and nancy wheeler proved that adoration and love is fleeting, so what would even be the point of trying anymore? his dad was a little more approving of steve's retirement/hiatus, saying that steve must want to go to college so he can take over the family business.
but when steve doesn't get into college, he's once again badgered by his mom to go back. but he's grown and changed and he's not sure that he can pretend anymore, so he says no. and they cut him off. enter: scoops era.
the measly scoops salary is not nearly enough to cover all of the new bills and expenses steve has, but he's not willing to leave hawkins. so he reaches out to his friends back in italy, and they refer him to their american connections. steve doesn't model at the same level as before, but he poses for a couple of zines and one artist who got a little too handsy at his exhibition. but he's able to make it through until the mall blows up.
this routine continues and he starts working at family video with robin at his side, but he keeps his side job a secret from the kids, using the excuse of visiting his parents to leave town for his shoots. he's not ashamed, but he knows he wouldn't "be normal" anymore if they found out.
but how does he explain his near mental breakdown at the sight of his healing demobat scars. they're raised and ugly, ruining what should have been a perfect body. and even though he uses scar cream everyday, they refuse to fade away completely. and how could anyone stand to be near such an ugly thing when all his life, steve was meant to be pretty? after all, love and adoration is fleeting.
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1969 Dodge Charger
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1969 Dodge Charger
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1969 Dodge Charger
Ringbrothers Builds The Ultimate Dodge Charger With A Hellcat Heart
Elizabeth Puckett
February 8, 2022·2 min read
While the Ringbrothers have made some crazy automotive feats in the past, this is probably their most insane build with a Hellcat engine.
The Ringbrothers are exceptionally well known within the automotive community for such adventures as their 2020 SEMA Cougar build and other works of automotive art. Nowadays, the brothers have taken on a project that drops jaws around every corner and wears its proud color scheme of Speed Violation Yellow quite well. Under the hood is a massive supercharged surprise from the modern American performance manufacturer that you may know as Dodge. These engineering legends have built one of the most iconic engines ever to hit the American racing circuit and have cemented the number 707 into the minds of enthusiasts everywhere. By now, you've probably guessed what insane power plant we're talking about, but this about far more than just its incredible drivetrain. You may think that this is just another Hellcat swap, but we'd suggest you pay attention to this one. Down to the best seat covers, this car is amazing.
That's because this insane 1969 Dodge Charger is one of the most complicated builds to hit the various corners of the internet. Under the hood of this great car, nicknamed CAPTIV, is a massive 6.2-liter Hellcat V8 engine that produces an astonishing 707 horsepower which is far more effective in this car than your standard modern Charger because of the significantly reduced weight and excellent suspension work. This can do far more than go fast in a straight line with adjustable shocks, Baer six-piston brakes, and a set of Michelin Pilot Sport 4S tires, making the car a beast on any road racing circuit. Now that we've gotten the performance aspect laid out for you let's talk about design.
The interior was built to resemble the exact vision that the new owner had always wanted in a classic car with the simple styling, which complements the custom steering wheel very well. Another remarkable aspect of the interior specifications is the Recaro seats which are the perfect addition to this car whose beauty almost surpasses its performance in terms of impressiveness. The exterior also follows that same sentiment of simplistic design and stunning presence with a Porsche color now called Speed Violation Yellow, a fitting name for this car.
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batsythoughts · 6 months
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BECAUSE I APPARENTLY WRITE ANGST TOO HEARTBREAKING, HERE IS AN ALTERNATIVE VERSION FOR BRUCE TO GET HIS HAPPY ENDING
Original Version
Time came around for you to arrive at the manor and everyone was practically bouncing in their seats in excitement
The moment the doorbell sounded through the halls, all the kids stood up
Bruce told them all to wait there as him and Alfred went to go open the door to let you in
There you stood in your best outfit as Bruce welcomed you inside with a smile while introducing you to Alfred
Alfred gave a polite nod while saying that the whole family has been so excited to offically meet you
Alfred goes to make sure the table is set for everyone as Bruce begins to guide you towards the living room
The moment you came into view there was a chorus of 'hello's that came the group before they each began to introduce themselves
Barbara, Stephanie, Dick, and even Cass went up to give you a hug while the others politely waved
Damian subtlety walked over to Bruce as the cheerleader squad already began to ask for the story of your life
Damian leaned towards his father as he whispered, "This one seems like a very suitable compared to the others you've accompanied yourself with."
Bruce chuckled softly while patting his son on the shoulder, glad to have his verbal approval
Alfred called for everyone to come to the dining room so they could talk more over dinner
Everyone happily showed you which spot beside Bruce you could sit in as the others took their own spots around the table
The chatter is casual as everyone eats, saying that they had put all their effort into making a meal you would like
You tell them that it is a very nice meal and you appreciated the effort they had put into it for the night
Everything goes quiet for a moment as the children take in the praise that was given to them
Jason suddenly pipes up as he looks over at you with a knowing smirk on his face. "Did you know that Bruce still has the first drawing you did on his coffee cup in one of his desk drawers?"
Bruce drops his fork in embarrassment as he sends Jason a intense look as a way to tell him to be quiet
Barbara excitedly added that it was the only way they knew how to find you to begin with anyways
Cass commented on Bruce having just been randomly 'peppy' in the mornings so they wanted to find out and they weren't actively trying to snoop in his business, which Dick quickly said they that's exactly what they all had done
Bruce quickly tells them to stop talking about it with a flustered look on his face before everyone went back to eating
It lasted for all of 10 seconds before Tim quietly added, "He has one in the car's glove compartment as well."
Everyone looses their shit over that revelation while you cover the smile on your face while looking over at Bruce. Softly assuring him that you thought it was kinda sweet
Bruce kept his gaze down as he told them all he was going to change his locks on both his desk and drawers in the morning
Alfred came walking in with a tray of cupcakes with decorative frosting and placing it in the center
All the girls excitedly tell you they had made the frosting from scratch themselves and paid extra care to make the flowers on them
You smile while taking one of the cupcakes as you admire the design before taking a bite
A hum of approval comes from you as you look at them with an eager nod
The kids get their own cupcakes from the try before talking to one another for a moment
Bruce turned towards you with a grin on his face as you stared back at him while the attention wasn't focused just on you
Bruce reached his hand out to take hold of yours on the table while rubbing his thumb over your knuckle as you just stare at one another
Stephanie quickly takes a picture on her phone before going back to her conversation with Jason and Tim
When everyone was done with their cupcakes, the kids helped clear the table as Bruce takes you to the living room to sit down on the couch together for a moment alone
Bruce expresses his apologies for how the kids had acted for a few times throughout the dinner
You quickly assured him it was fine and were expecting something to that extent anyways
The both of you lean back on the cushion as Bruce pulls you into his side, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head
"I'm glad you could come. All of the kids already seem to adore you. Though, it wasn't too hard for a few of them."
You give a small chuckle while turning your head to give him a soft peck on his cheek
You tell him that you found them all sweet, in their own way, and you were glad to have finally met them all
It goes quiet for a moment before you ask, "Did you really keep the coffee sleeves that I drew on?"
A soft groan comes from Bruce as he leaned his head back on the couch
You gave a small laugh while softly teasing him on how many more he had. Asking if he wanted you to draw some more so he could make his own collection
Bruce grabbed the back of your neck to give you a kiss to make you stop talking about it
You gently kiss back while bringing your hand to his cheek to return the kiss
"Children coming into the room! Please make sure all clothes are on! We don't need any images of undres to be burned in our minds!"
You pull away laughing as Jason yells that from the other room before everyone came walking in
A few of them laughing along as they see Bruce's flustered expression as he rubs his temple
The girls go to your side of the couch and begin asking if next time you would want to do a movie night with them all
The boys go to the other side while just stare at Bruce with knowing expressions
You assure them that you would love to spend more time with them the next time that you come over but you sadly did have to leave since you had work tomorrow
Sounds of disappointing come from all around as you stand up
Bruce gets up as well while saying that he will walk you out
"Alone," he adds before any of the others can fully get up from their spots to come along
When you both get to the door, Bruce tells you how he was glad you were able to make it and he would need to have you over again soon
Mostly cause the kids would bug him until you came back
You smile while agreeing because it was such a fun night
The two of you share a small kiss goodnight before you finally walked out the door, promising to tell him when you got home
Bruce smiles as he makes sure you get in the car before finally closing the door
He walks back into the living room to see everyone patiently waiting for him
They all have smiles as they look back at Bruce as if waiting for some kind of special news
This time, it's Dick that speaks up with a smirk on his face
"So... are you gonna get married to them, or do we have to ask for you again?"
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fizzydrink698 · 2 years
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passenger | jennie
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kinktober day 3: car sex
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pairing: kim jennie x female reader
word-count: 5.2k
genre: romance, fluffy smut
warnings: swearing, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, the inherent awkward manoeuvring of car sex, some real fuzzy emotions
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summary:
Settling herself down into the space next to you, she draped the blanket over the two of you, shifting closer ever so slightly when it proved not quite big enough to cover you both easily.
…You know, if you’d had to guess where this night would take you, snuggling up with Kim Jennie under a blanket wouldn’t exactly be your first thought.
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“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Those were Jennie’s first words when she got into your car, her expression cold as she tried to manoeuvre her dress skirts inside so that she could close the car door without trapping them.
Amazingly, despite the rain beginning to pour down outside, she looked incredibly put-together. You’d only really met her a few times – maybe enough to count on two hands – but she always seemed so chic and well-dressed. Designer clothes, perfect hair, and just that…like, aura of elegance.
You didn’t know Jennie particularly well, but when you got the call just after midnight from Rosé that Jennie needed a lift home and the situation was, quote, “really not good”, you didn’t hesitate to make the hour-long journey to her.
You had expected her to be at some kind of house party, or some kind of typical date location – like a restaurant, or something. Not a black-tie gala hosted at a hotel so grand and towering that it made your eyes water just to look at it.
Still, you knew Jennie ran in slightly different circles from you and Rosé. Maybe this was a typical Friday night for her.
You didn’t hesitate to start driving, pulling out of the hotel courtyard with as much speed as you could get away with – but you couldn’t deny the vague flicker of unease in your gut.
“Bad night?” You asked, keeping your eyes on the road.
Jennie didn’t reply.
You continued, trying to keep your voice light. “Like, ‘the food was gross and my foot got stepped on’ bad, or…you know, ‘police report’ bad?”
Jennie sighed, folding her arms over her chest. “Just…people being assholes. No laws broken, I just…didn’t want to be there anymore.”
Slightly reassured, you let the subject drop and continued to drive on in silence.
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jennie rummage through her clutch purse, draw out her phone – and promptly sigh. “Do you have a phone charger port in here?”
Phone charger port? Your car still had a tape deck. Phone charger ports were a little beyond your budget.
“No, sorry,” you said, glancing over at her. “Do you need one?”
As soon as the words left your mouth, you realised how dumb they were – a realisation only compounded by Jennie’s slow blink at you as she held her dead phone.
“…That was a stupid question,” you mumbled, turning back to the road.
Jennie had the grace not to respond verbally, but her facial expression was enough.
You made the resolution there and then that, for your own pride, it was probably best to keep your mouth shut in front of the pretty girl for the rest of the journey.
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That resolution lasted all of twenty-five minutes, ending dramatically when you found yourself stuck on the side of the road, in the middle of nowhere and your back wheels stuck over half a foot deep in mud.
You stood there, outside, staring at the wheels in disbelief as rain just bucketed down from the heavens and drenched you. You barely felt it, a little numb with shock and the pervasive thought of just…what the fuck?
You’d tried everything, but there was no way you were getting out of this without a tow.
Reluctantly, you looked back towards the front of the car – where you could just about see the silhouette of Jennie in the passenger seat, her body turned and leaning over the seat to look back at you.
Shit. This was not your night.
Well, to be fair, it was definitely not her night either.
Putting on a brave face, you squared your shoulders and headed back to the driver’s side, pulling open the car door and wincing slightly as your soaked clothes made contact with the fabric seat.
“Uh, so the car is like stuck in that mud,” you explained, trying your best to keep your voice light. You grabbed your phone from where it had been resting in your cupholder, giving you something to look at that wasn’t Jennie’s face. “We’re going to need a tow truck, I think, so let me just…”
With such a – and you say this lovingly – heap of junk for a car, you had the good sense to save the number of a roadside assistance company in your contacts.
That good sense was wasted, however, when you tried to dial the number and were immediately met with a ‘call failed’ message.
No service.
Of course.
“OK,” you said, lifting your phone up as high as it could go and trying to call again, just in case – but to no avail. “There’s no signal here. I can try walking around when the rain stops to find some, and–”
“We’re in the middle of nowhere,” Jennie pointed out. “There’s not going to be signal for, like, miles around. And…”
She trailed off, attention turning towards the window. Without your car’s headlights, you knew it would be completely pitch-black outside. You briefly imagined trying to stumble around in the middle of the night, the ground still slick with rainwater and mud, and your stomach immediately knotted with dread.
Jennie sighed. “Wait until morning, at least.”
Morning?
Morning was still several hours away, which was a very long time to be stuck in a car with someone you barely knew.
To make matters worse, you were starting to shiver. Your wet clothes were clinging to your skin, growing colder and colder with every passing minute. There was a spare change of workout clothes in the gym bag on your backseat, but there was a very obvious problem with changing clothes right now.
“You look freezing,” Jennie noted, eyebrows raised as you tried not to visibly shudder from the cold in front of her. “Is there, like, anything in this car that you can use to dry off?”
“I mean, I’ve got…I’ve got some other clothes,” you admitted, jabbing a thumb towards the bag behind you.
“Maybe you should put those on, before you get pneumonia.”
“I mean, I can, but are you OK with…I mean, I should probably make sure that you’re–”
Jennie rolled her eyes. “I’m fine. Believe it or not, I’m capable of turning around while you’re getting changed.”
You wanted so badly to defend your reluctance, to press your argument further, but you managed to bite your tongue. You awkwardly clambered over the centre console and through the gap between the front seats towards the back, thankfully managing to avoid contact with Jennie as you did so.
With one last glance towards Jennie, just to make sure she was fine with this and facing the other way, you began to peel off your wet t-shirt.
Aware that undressing in complete silence – especially when that undressing involved a long, protracted struggle with wet clothing – would be horrifically awkward, you cleared your throat and tried to make conversation. “So, what’s up with the big fancy party in the middle of nowhere?”
“It was this fundraiser thing. Work-related,” Jennie explained. “One of our biggest donors owns that hotel, and they offered to host. What about you?”
You paused, one arm out of your shirt, confused. “What about me?”
“What were you doing around here, if you were close enough to give me a ride back to the city?”
“Uh…” you trailed off, unsure of what to say. “I wasn’t?”
“What? You were at home?” Jennie asked, her tone incredulous.
“Yeah?”
She paused, seemingly at a loss for words. “That’s…wait, how far is that? An hour away?”
You didn’t know how to answer that. What should you have done? Downplay it?
You watched Jennie tilt her head, and when she spoke again, her voice was a little softer. “…Rosé said you were nice.”
Your face warmed, unused to compliments. You stalled for a second by taking off your shirt entirely, tossing it onto the driver’s seat. Reaching for the dry t-shirt in your gym bag, you managed to reply with a shrug. “Yeah, I like to think I am, I guess.”
“Maybe too nice,” Jennie pointed out. It wasn’t accusatory, not at all, but it was almost like a warning. Like a piece of advice.
You thought this over, putting on the t-shirt. “…Nah. I’m the perfect amount of nice. Everyone else should step up and get on my level.”
To your surprise, Jennie laughed. Kind of. Her version of a laugh was apparently a soft exhale through her nose, but you caught the way her cheekbones lifted for the briefest of smiles.
You cringed at the feeling of peeling off your wet jeans, throwing them away to join your shirt on the driver’s seat, and pulled on the thick, comfy pair of sweatpants instead. They were a little worn, maybe, but so soft. After suffering in those soaked clothes, they felt like heaven.
Now that you had solved the wet clothes issue, you took a moment to assess the situation the two of you had found yourselves in.
Staying the night in a car was not exactly ideal. The biggest concern was security, but in this regard, you were somewhat reassured. Your car might have been ancient, but it was big and sturdy, with strong thick windows you could barely see out of, let alone into. Nothing was getting in.
The next biggest concern, and one in which the solution was less obvious, was how the fuck you were going to stay warm. You couldn’t keep your engine running forever, which meant eventually, the heaters were going to have to turn off.
You might have been fine with your new clothes, but Jennie’s dress wasn’t exactly built for cold weather. You looked it over for a moment, how bare it left her arms, her shoulders, her delicate collarbones. She’d probably get so cold, even if she did look…
An idea suddenly came to you, and after a second of rummaging around in the dimness of the overhead light, you found what you were looking for, folded up and hidden away in one of the footwells. “Hey, Jennie?”
She turned around, eyes dropping for a second to note your new clothes, before bringing them back up to your face. “Yeah?”
“You want a blanket?” You asked, grabbing the item in question and extending it to her.
Her gaze shifted towards the blanket, brow furrowing. “You have a blanket in your car?”
“Yeah, it’s from…” you paused, debating whether it was worth telling the whole story, and decided you might as well. “I went on this star-gazing date thing with this girl who was super into astronomy a few weeks ago. The date kinda fizzled out, but the views were nice and the blanket was warm. I just forgot to take it out of my car.”
“Oh,” Jennie murmured, pausing for a second. Then, she reached for the blanket, taking it and drawing it over her shoulders. It was big enough that she could bundle herself within it, and you couldn’t help but smile as she took a moment to do just that, her hands pulling it tight around her.
It was…honestly, kind of cute, which was something you definitely didn’t expect to come from someone as cool and sophisticated as Jennie.
“It should be nice and warm,” you said, brightly. “It’s super thick.”
“Yeah, it’s fluffy,” Jennie murmured, almost to herself.
“I just figured you’d need it. I’m going to turn the engine off soon, so it’s going to be freezing in here.”
Jennie looked over at you. “Wait, do you have a blanket too?”
“I’ll be fine,” you said, with a shrug.
Jennie made a face. “Again, like I said, you’re too nice. This is your car, and your blanket, and you’re going to spend the whole night freezing here without it. Stop inconveniencing yourself just for others.”
You frowned. “It’s not an inconvenience, you just need it more than I do.”
“Your hair’s still wet.”
“You’re wearing spaghetti straps.”
“Fine, we’ll just share the blanket then,” Jennie declared with a huff, like it was no big deal. Before you could even react, she was already tossing the blanket onto the backseat. “Do you want me to turn the engine off now? It’s already been running for ages.”
You blinked, still thrown by this sudden news of blanket-sharing. “Uh…yeah, I guess?”
You watched her lean over and turn off the ignition, retrieving your keys easily. The car engine, once a comforting steady hum of background noise, fell silent, as did your heaters.
Now, there was a strange air of quiet as Jennie made her way through the gap to join you on the backseat – and how the hell did she manage to make the journey over the centre console look that smooth?
Settling herself down into the space next to you, she draped the blanket over the two of you, shifting closer ever so slightly when it proved not quite big enough to cover you both easily.
…You know, if you’d had to guess where this night would take you, snuggling up with Kim Jennie under a blanket wouldn’t exactly be your first thought.
You weren’t quite touching, but you could feel her warmth, the unmistakable sign of just how close she was, just almost within reach.
You cleared your throat, trying to collect your thoughts before they wandered into more dangerous territory. “So, I don’t think I’ve ever heard how you and Rosé became friends?”
The corner of Jennie’s lip turned upwards into a half-smile. She reached up to her artfully arranged hairdo, began to carefully remove the hairpins holding it together, and talked as she did so. “We went to high school together. I only joined halfway through the year, and my English still kind of sucked. She…took me under her wing, I guess.”
“That’s really sweet.”
“Yeah. She’s always been great with things like that. With people,” Jennie said, before looking down at the blanket, and she shrugged one shoulder. “And I’ve just always been the bitch.”
You jerked upwards a little, affronted on her behalf. “I’ve never thought you were a bitch, Jennie.”
She removed another hairpin, and made a thoroughly unconvinced noise. “Pfft.”
“I haven’t!”
“Yeah, well…” she paused, eyeing you for a moment. “There’s not exactly many of you.”
“Well, screw what everyone else thinks,” you said, unable to stop yourself from raising your voice just a little. “They didn’t see you at Pride.”
“Pride?”
“Yeah,” you said. You remembered it clearly, even now, two years later. It was Rosé’s first time going to Pride after coming out, and she was so nervous. And then Jennie had turned up, sunglasses on and stone-faced - with a little Etsy-sourced handmade ally flag pin on the lapel of her Chanel jacket, and waving a pocket-sized rainbow flag in solidarity. “That’s always what I think about when I think of you. How good of a friend you were to Rosé that day.”
Jennie blinked at you, her face completely slack with surprise. You felt your stomach drop just a little, and you couldn’t tell if you’d said something wrong, or if maybe you’d said something perfectly right.
After a long moment, Jennie turned away, frowning. “…You really are too nice.”
You sighed, leaning back against the seat. On a whim, you shuffle just the tiniest bit closer, just so you can properly envelop yourself within this blanket. “I’m really not. I shouldn’t be, anyway.”
Jennie didn’t reply to that. Instead, she looked up at the roof of the car, and you pretended that you didn’t notice the brief second she bit her lip in thought. “So, I’ve never really asked, but…are you and Rosé a thing?”
You were caught off-guard by this question, but not by much. This wasn’t the first time you’d been asked something along these lines, and you were sure it wouldn’t be the last. “Nope. Just friends.”
“OK. And are you going to stay just friends?”
“Yeah, that’s the plan,” you remarked.
“It’s just…I figured that since you both like girls, and you’re really close…”
Jenny might have trailed off, but you could catch the gist of the sentence pretty easily – and you were determined to give a definitive answer to such an open-ended question. “
“No. She’s great, I love her but…you know, you don’t have to be into someone to love them. It’s like your dude friends, right? They like girls but that doesn’t mean they want to bang?”
Jennie’s expression faltered, and for a brief moment, you caught a flicker of emotion in her eye. “I wish.”
Those words were edged with something, and you realised you might have stumbled onto something a little too personal.
“Have you ever had a girlfriend?” Jennie asked, and you were so startled by the sudden question that for a moment, you forgot all about that fairly obvious change in subject.
“…Yeah. Not many,” you admitted, but you weren’t particularly filled with guilt or shame or anything like that. Just a vague sense of embarrassment for your younger self, but that was pretty standard. “I’m always busy with school and stuff.”
With what was apparently the final hairpin removed, Jennie made quick work of the hair tie keeping her hair in such a perfect bun. Her hair – long, black, smooth, shiny – fell around her face, framing her perfectly. “What’s it like?”
“Um. Nice? I haven’t really dated-dated dudes, but I found that girls usually understood me a little more. The ones I’ve dated anyway. They could pick up all my little emotional tells. Intense, maybe. You can get very attached very quickly.”
“Hmm.”
“Why do you ask?”
“No reason,” Jennie said. She opened her mouth like she was going to say more, closed it quickly, but there was a lingering thoughtfulness in her eyes. Like she was thinking very hard about something.
“What is it?”
“…I think…uh, well, it’s something I’ve…” Jennie sighed, frustrated at her uncharacteristic stumble with words, and tried to simplify it. “Girls are pretty.”
“They are.”
“And…some of them are more than that.”
“Yeah, quite a few.”
“Some of them are…” Jennie trailed off, looking at you. “You know, some are…”
You waited for her to finish her sentence.
She didn’t.
Instead, she leaned forward suddenly, and kissed you square on the mouth.
You barely had time to think, frozen, and she withdrew almost immediately.
“Oh, God,” she lamented, burying her face in her hands. “I’m so sorry.”
You couldn’t even respond, wordless from shock.
Jennie kissed you?
Jennie kissed you.
Jennie – like, Jennie – kissed you.
…Huh.
“You don’t have to apologise,” you said, words slowly coming back to you. “It’s fine.”
She made a face – or, you thought she did, it was hard to tell through her hands – and muttered back. “No, I…I didn’t even ask, at the very fucking least, let alone…ugh.”
She sharply turned away, curling in on herself. Even from this angle, with her back to you, you could tell she was hoping for the ground would swallow her whole.
And still, from the glimpse of her cheek in profile, you thought you could see a blush.
You swallowed, looking down at your hands, trying to seem cool and composed as you shrugged. “You can ask now, if you want.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jennie still. She turned, slowly, fixing you with the wariest of looks. “…What?”
You glanced over to her, trying your best to stay calm despite the way your heart was starting to pound, and repeated. “You can ask now if you want.”
Jennie stared at you for a moment, silent.
And then…
“Can I…” she paused, the pink of her cheeks darkening even more, but she managed to stay strong. “Can I kiss you?”
You swallowed. “Yeah. Yes. Yes, you can.”
She leaned forward – and paused, just for a moment. The briefest moment in which to double-check one’s actions, to decide just what exactly one should do, and to change course if needed. Jennie paused for all that time, and still chose to follow through and kiss you again.
This time, you were ready. You met her halfway, one hand lifting up to cradle Jennie’s face. The kiss was sweet, tender, and when you pulled away to breathe, she chased after you tenaciously to reconnect.
Her lips were soft, full, and you couldn’t help but want to run your tongue along the bottom lip, just a little.
Not yet. Let her adjust, let her get used to….
You felt her hand find your waist under the blanket, and you shivered at the feeling of her fingertips just brushing the sensitive skin below the waistband of your sweatpants.
Taking that as an encouragement to start exploring, you let your hand wander from her cheek to her jaw, to the softness of her hair. You let the little strands wind around your fingers, combing through it, and you murmured against her lips. “Fuck, you’re so pretty, Jennie.”
Jennie didn’t respond in words, but instead by pressing her lips to the soft skin under your jaw. You closed your eyes, letting your head fall back against the seat, and your breath left you shakily.
Her other hand found your thigh, pressing down slightly as she used it to support her own weight, to move even closer.
You were sat there, back pressed against the seat, legs parted, Jennie’s mouth on your neck, wishing for her to take notice and climb onto your lap, maybe slide that hand upwards underneath your shirt, maybe–
And then it hit you.
You stilled, muscles tensing, and you tried to pull away. “Jennie…”
She made the softest whine, protesting, and you had to very purposefully grip her by the shoulder and gently but firmly push her away before she realised just how serious you were being.
“Jennie,” you breathed, voice still uneven. You tried to stay firm, even in the face of her newly mussed hair, in the pink of her cheeks and the parting of her lips as she drew much-needed breath. “Jennie, you’re…you were upset tonight. I don’t want to–”
“No, I wasn’t,” Jennie argued, her gaze dropping to your lips.
You swallowed. “You were. Maybe this isn’t the best idea right now.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t…I don’t want to take advantage, if you’re feeling–”
“You’re not.”
“Jenn–”
“You’re not,” she repeated, insistent, and there was an unmistakable edge to her tone. Frustration, maybe? Anger? “Because I’m not upset, I…”
She paused, sighing bitterly, glancing upwards as she debated something.
“…Look, you want to know what happened tonight?” Jennie said, finally, jaw set with a determination to prove you wrong. “One of my guy friends asked me out. I turned him down, the fucking nicest way I could, and he still made a huge scene over it. My ex was there, they got into a whole thing, and I didn’t want to be there anymore to witness their dick-measuring contest. That’s it.”
She took a deep breath, as you tried to absorb her words, tried to wrap your head around this information, and continued with a new vulnerability in her voice.
“It didn’t upset me. It…it embarrassed me, sure. It fucking pissed me off, definitely. But it didn’t upset me. You’re not taking advantage just because I was in a bad mood. Was, because then we started talking, and…”
She glanced away, not quite brave enough to finish that sentence, but you could fill in the gaps yourself. Something – some warm feeling – bloomed in your chest.
“So, if you don’t want to, that’s fine,” Jennie finished, squaring her shoulders, keeping her head held high as she stared you down directly. “But don’t pin it on me. I know what I want.”
You held her gaze for a moment, saying nothing.
And then, silently, you rested your hand on the curve of her hip, and watched the way her chest swelled with a surprised intake of breath.
“And what do you want?” You asked, voice very purposefully light, even as your thumb began to trace circles into the thin fabric of her dress.
Exhaling, slowly, Jennie let herself relax into your touch. “…More of that.”
“Yeah? What else?”
“You to kiss me,” Jennie said, bold, defiant.
You smiled, blinking innocently. “Kiss you where?”
The memory of her reaction – the way her face flushed, the way she almost choked on her own breath, the swallow that made her throat bob – would burn itself into your mind, never to be forgotten.
This time, it was you who initiated the kiss. You let your tongue run over her bottom lip, just as you’d wanted, before turning your attention elsewhere – the pink of her cheeks, the long column of her neck, the collarbone you’d been trying your best not to stare at the moment she got into your car.
You looped an arm around her waist and gently, carefully, pulled her onto your lap – not quite all the way, just enough for your thigh to slot itself comfortably between her legs.
“This is such a nice dress, Jennie,” you noted, running one hand up her side, from hip to waist to just brushing the side of her chest before coming up to her shoulder. Carefully, you hooked your index finger under the thin strap of her dress, letting it fall just off the shoulder.
You pressed a kiss to where it had once been, then a little lower. Then, a little lower again. And again. Slowly, carefully, giving her plenty of time to stop you if she wanted. She didn’t, and when your mouth finally found its way to her breast, she let out the quietest little sigh.
It was becoming very obvious that Jennie wasn’t wearing a bra. You’d thought maybe she could have been wearing a strapless one, but no, it was becoming increasingly clear through the thin material that she absolutely was not. When your lips closed around her nipple through the fabric, Jennie’s hand found itself curling around the back of your head, and she let herself…press against your thigh.
That could be fun, you thought idly, getting distracted by Jennie’s first whimper when you let your teeth scrape against her. It could be fun to let Jennie ride your thigh.
Except there was something in you that wanted something a little more…hands-on. Maybe, just maybe, deep down, you’d admit that you wanted to show off a little.
So, you pulled away from her breast to press your lips to hers once more, bringing your left hand up to cradle her jaw.
And with your right, you let it slide under her tangle of dress skirts, and gently rested it on her bare knee.
“Is this OK?” You asked, pressing a little peck to the corner of her mouth.
“Only if it doesn’t stay there,” Jennie mumbled, tilting your head with her own hands to resume kissing.
Just as she wished, you very slowly slid your hand up her leg, along the soft and sensitive skin of her inner thigh. Jennie rolled her hips against your thigh, just once, impatient, but you didn’t rush yourself. This was half the fun, letting the anticipation build.
A fucking rush of satisfaction filled you when you felt just how wet Jennie had gotten for you. What an ego-boost it was, to run your fingers over where she and your thigh connected, to feel the damp lace against your fingertips, to hear Jennie breathily accuse you of teasing.
With another kiss, this time open-mouthed and against her neck, you pushed her underwear to one side and found her clit with the pad of your thumb. You rubbed circles into it, slowly, just to test what she might like.
Jennie moaned, loudly, her head falling forward. Her mouth was so close to your ear, allowing you to hear every single little catch in her breathing, every choked noise, everything, as you began to learn her body. She was sensitive, she liked it slow, and she especially liked when you murmured her name. You learned how to tell when she wanted something, when something was too much, how the muscles of her thighs tensed and clamped down at just the right balance of almost ‘too much’.
Your free hand drifted to the curve of her ass, squeezing slightly as you gently lifted her up – giving you just enough space to slip your middle finger inside of her.
“Fuck, Jennie,” you breathed, as she groaned and rocked backwards onto your hand. Before long, you could add your ring finger – and with the smallest repositioning of your hand, you made sure that with every motion, your thumb would drag across her most sensitive spot, and you felt the breath that punched its way out of her chest when she first discovered this.
You could make her come like this. And what’s more, you realised, you could make her come like this easily.
But there was something else that tempted you, an image that refused to leave your mind.
Why not leave it up to Jennie?
“You want me to keep doing this?” You asked, breathless, pausing to kiss the underside of her jaw. “Or do you want my mouth? It’s up to you, baby.”
The endearment slipped its way out of your mouth before you could stop it, but Jennie didn’t seem to mind. You watched her struggle with the decision, eyes dark and dazed with lust, biting her lip.
“Are you…” Jennie began, before pausing to let out another choked moan, eyes squeezing shut for a second, “…good?”
There was no way to answer that question without sounding like you were bragging, so you settled for a semi-sheepish grin. “Haven’t had any complaints.”
Jennie exhaled shakily, and nodded. “OK. Mouth, then.”
Carefully, you moved Jennie off of your lap, laying her down on her back across the backseat. You couldn’t deny that your new position, kneeling between her legs, one of your feet jammed in one footwell, the other leg awkwardly pressed against the edge of the seat, was cramped – but it was so, so worth the noises that forced their way out of Jennie’s mouth when your tongue brushed against her clit.
Fuck, it was so worth it. It was worth all the confined space and awkward manoeuvring that sex in a car provided, it was worth the hour-long journey, it was worth getting stuck in the mud and the inevitable wait for a tow truck and the freezing cold of the night, because all of it brought you Kim Jennie grinding up against your tongue, close to sobbing as she finally unravelled, coming with a sharp cry and thighs clamping down around your head.
You let her ride it out, watching her shake as she came down from the high, hooking your arm around her thigh as you turned your head to press a kiss to the soft skin there.
It took a few minutes, the car perfectly silent except for the heavy breathing coming from both of you, almost in unison, and the heartbeat pounding in your ears.
Until, finally, Jennie managed to push herself up to a seated position, chest still visibly rising and falling with every breath. She took in the sight of you, letting her head loll to one side against the headrest, and she gave you one of her little half-smiles.
“I never thanked you for driving all the way out here, did I?”
“No,” you replied, slowly, trying to keep yourself from smiling back.
Jennie reached out, offering her hand to you.
“Then, get up here and show me how to.”
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damiansgoodgirll · 1 year
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Could you do a damian priest x fem!reader where she's getting a tattoo in the middle of her breasts and Damian comes along to make sure the artist's eyes don't linger too long
<3
plsss this is so cute
damian priest x reader
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flowers
one thing you and your boyfriend damian had in common was the love for tattoos. you didn’t have many tattoos like he did, you had a few but each of them was a piece of art telling a different story. some smalls and some bigger you loved them all and you couldn’t wait to get your next one.
you found this new tattoo artist that caught your attention and you immediately booked an appointment with him.
you wanted to get some simple flowers right in the valley of your breast, you fell in love the moment you saw the design and you knew you had to have it on your skin.
when you told damian about the tattoo idea you had he was enthusiastic about it, he loved your tattoos and he wanted you to get more, always saying you were his best personal piece of art but when you told him where you wanted to get it and that a man would do the tattoo he wasn’t that happy anymore.
so instead of causing a tantrum he told you that he would come with you just to make sure the tattoo artist would professionally do his job and not looking at your tits.
“you know he has to look right?” you said as you were both getting out of the car and entering the studio for the first time.
“he has to look at the tattoo not at your boobs and nipples” he said.
“they’ll be covered anyway” you laughed.
damian knew your nipples would be covered and that most of the times you wouldn’t even need to take your bra off for simple tattoos like that but something was bothering him.
once inside you all introduced yourselves and the tattoo artist asked you if you could remove your top so he could apply the stencil on your skin. damian took a seat in the sofa next to your table and carefully watched the artist’s movement.
you remained in your bra and before he could do anything he asked you if you could remove your bra so he could work better. of course he gave you something to cover your nipples with and he turned around to let you remove your bra without invading your personal spaces.
damian’s eyes were looking straight at you when you removed your bra, an action that he knew too well and that always led to something else. but today he wasn’t going to be the one who would touch your breast.
the tattoo artist hands began to work on your breast, applying cream and changing the stencils position a couple of times before he could start tattooing.
it was probably a visual effect but once you were laid on the bed your boobs looked five times bigger and you felt the artist watching them for a little before going back to tattooing.
he never wanted to make you uncomfortable but you tits were in his face and he couldn’t help to watch for a few seconds. you didn’t even notice when he done in the second time or the third, too focused on trying to not feel any pain but damian saw how he stared and he wasn’t amused by it.
“are we done?” damian woke you up from your thoughts.
“ten minutes and she’ll be done” the tattoo artist said.
“ten more minutes?” damian asked a little irritated. you knew he was just being protective so you didn’t mind at all.
“maybe 5…” he seemed a little intimidated by damian, he knew who he was and he knew he didn’t have to make him mad.
“good” damian said.
when the tattoo was done the man gently applied some cream on top of hit, accidentally brushing his hand over your hardened nipple making you gasp in surprise a little.
“are you done touching my woman’s tits?” damian asked getting closer to you.
“d-d-done” poor boy was terrified by damian.
“perfect” damian said giving him a death look. you laughed, knowing that damian was like this. he was protective especially over you.
you dressed up again and went to pay.
once outside the studio you felt damian breathing again.
“next time you want your tits or ass tattooed you’re going to a woman’s, or i’m going to do the tattoo, no other option” he said and you bursted out laughing, thinking of how silly sometimes he could get.
he was just like that and you loved him for what he was.
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metalhoops · 1 year
Text
Steddie Week Day 4:
Familiar / Hurt/Comfort / Here Come the Tears by Judas Priest
Eddie and Steve had never been close before the world went to hell. They’d known of each other, as everyone knows everyone in small town, middle America. They’d gone to the same school, smoked behind the same abandoned buildings and knew all the best places to make the worst decisions, but they hadn’t done it together. They were disparate figures, drifting around each other’s edges. That all changed in 1986 when through fate or chance the two boys had been flung together. 
By the summer of 1988, they’d grown into and around each other like vines beneath forest foliage. They’d become inseparable, familiar. Steve showed up outside the garage at closing time, the Beamer tearing down the gravel path, leaving a trail of dust in its wake. When Robin and the kids weren’t around, Steve drove fast, throwing caution to the wind. No one else knew that about him. Eddie did. 
He didn’t know what to do with all of the pieces of Steve that were uniquely his. He felt the illogical urge to write them down, catalogue each one as though designing a character for a new campaign. He wanted a record of each minute detail of Steve. 
“Your yuppie boyfriend’s tearin’ up the drive again, Manson,” Eddie's boss, Frankie, hollered from his spot behind the service desk. 
In the year he’d worked at the garage, he’d never seen the guy move from behind his desk, yet his hands were always grease-stained. Eddie hated his boss, but the job paid well enough. He was saving up to high tail it out of Hawkins, where nicknames like ‘The Freak’, and Frankie’s newest addition ‘Manson’, as in that Manson, the one with the cult in the 60s, weren’t so widespread. 
“I was off twenty minutes ago, Frankenstein. You want him to stop kickin’ up dust you could just let me off on time,” Eddie grumbled, grabbing a spare rag and trying to scrub the worst of the grease and engine gunk from his hands and overalls.  
“You think that carburettor was going to replace itself? You wanna finish on time? Work faster,” Frankie noted, punctuating his point by kicking his feet across the desk. Charming. 
Eddie made his way to the car, drummed his knuckles against the passenger door and waited as Steve leaned over to push it open, his precious seats covered haphazardly with one of Eddie’s ruined bandannas. This was their habit, how the two worked. Steve was wearing sunglasses, which usually meant he was fighting off a migraine. They’d been more frequent in recent months. Eddie blamed the hot weather. 
“How was your day?” Steve asked, starting the car.
Eddie flopped into the passenger seat and groaned. He let his body lay slack and boneless as the leather seats cradled him and the cool air from the A.C. took his breath away.
“That good, huh?” 
“Everyone’s cars decided to break down on the hottest day of the year and Frankenstein’s still giving me shit about being a cult leader. I think the dude used to hold out hope for you since you were the town's golden boy, but now he thinks there’s some kind of Stepford wife thing going on.” 
Steve snorted as he turned onto the familiar street leading to The Harringtons’ house. 
“I saw Dustin today. The kid wanted me to remind you, you’re picking the twerps up on Monday,” Steve informed, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. The guy had no sense of rhythm, but Eddie never had the heart to tell him. 
“Remind me why you can’t,” Eddie muttered as Steve’s house came into view. 
“Because I work late and you get off by two.” 
“I thought you said my van was a ‘death trap’. I could always take your car,” Eddie proposed with a devilish smirk. 
That car was Steve’s baby. Not even he was allowed to drive it, save that one night in Indianapolis when Steve was drunk and Robin broke her wrist. They’d spent five hours together in the emergency room. It’d brought back all the wrong kind of memories for Steve and Eddie could tell. 
Steve and Eddie talked about everything except Eddie’s stay in hospital and defining the liminal space between platonic and romantic, their relationship had been drifting for the past six months.  
“In your dreams, Munson. You staying at mine tonight?” Steve asked, pulling up and walking around to open Eddie’s door for him. 
He always made excuses about Eddie getting engine oil all over the passenger door, but he thought Steve liked playing chivalrous in the same way he liked playing up his less-than-stellar reputation.  
Steve kept asking him to spend the night. Eddie had his own drawer in Steve’s room. He couldn’t help but feel like he was asking him to move in. Eddie kept turning him down, not because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life in Hawkins, even if it was with Steve. He’d tried to convince himself he’d be able to do it, so they could get out of their goddamn stalemate and get on with the rest of their lives. Yet, Hawkins had always been inhospitable for the likes of people like him and the person Steve was becoming.
“If you’re cookin,” Eddie agreed, unbuttoning his overalls.
By the time Steve found his keys, Eddie had managed to strip the sweat-slicked clothes from his body and dumped them unceremoniously on the front stoop. The good thing about rich people’s houses? No neighbours for miles. 
They followed the same old routines. Eddie made his way upstairs to shower while Steve started prepping for dinner. Once Eddie didn’t smell like the inside of a boys' locker room, he returned to find Steve spaced out in the kitchen. 
Eddie’s heart was a hummingbird in flight. Steve’s body was stock still, his eyes a thousand miles away. 
“Steve,” Eddie breathed, signalling his approach. 
He tried to focus on the kitchen. This wasn’t two years ago. Vecna was dead. 
He laced his fingers into the crook of Steve’s elbow and finally caught the boy’s attention, the pot on the stove having boiled dry. 
“Migraine?” Eddie asked as Steve’s eyes snapped shut, frown lines marring the landscape of his forehead. 
“Yeah,” Steve confirmed through gritted teeth as Eddie guided him to the couch, switching off the lights on the way.
“Looks like you’re going to have to put up with the Munson special then, eggs on toast,” He breathed, sitting down beside Steve and guiding his head into his lap. 
He’d sat through a couple of Steve’s migraines. Sometimes they were fast and painless as a sun shower, other times he’d spend hours disorientated and puking up his guts. There wasn’t much Eddie could do for him, but sit there and be with him for it. In sickness and in health, all that crap. Eddie wasn’t sure when he’d become close enough to Steve that he’d sit through anything with him, but he knew now he would. 
“Stevie, you know when I get outta this hellhole, I’m taking you with me, right?” Eddie breathed, feeling the sudden need for candour. 
Sometime in the space between getting to know Steve and getting to love Steve, they’d crossed the line from familiar to familial.
Steve’s face nudged against Eddie’s palm, his forehead beaded with sweat. 
“I’d like that,” he confirmed. 
“We’d have to take Robin with us, though,” Steve added after a beat, causing Eddie to let out a breathy chuckle and dip down to press their foreheads together.  
“Fine by me, long as you’re there.” 
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