#handsome moron
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Fine, I'll admit it. With long hair...
He's very attractive. He really is.
But, he's a harebrained trend chaser, who will butcher his good looks for fickle fashion.
He also looks like he should be wearing a kilt, not a cloak. Because of the long red hair, not David's nationality.
#good omens#crowley#good omens crowley#diary pages#good omens fandom#fine he's handsome hot even#but he's a trend chaser#no i get adapting and that he'd need to have short hair in certain time periods like the roman empire#but when one can why not return to your best looks - he seems like he ditched the mane forever#crowley you stupid idiot moron#also did he come from hell or did he escape from braveheard he looks scottish with a trademark sign#maybe it's a bi girl thing maybe it's a me thing but men usually have to have long hair for me to find them attractive#there are exeptions paul bettany as michael in legion the frontman of behemoth even michael langdon#don't get me wrong david's a very good looking man but he's not eye candy short haired XD#tbh everyone men AND women are mostly attractive me with long hair#good omens gifs#my gifs#david tennant#trend chasing is lame tbh some style choices are to be timeless#wait speaking of that does he wear the sunglasses so people wouldn't assume he's wearing colored contacts#me to my fem!Crowley: my baby#me to regular Crowley: you stupid idiot moron
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Twilight exists
Me twirling a lock of hair: So there's this guy 💗
#oli talks#ooc#muns ramblings#mindless ramblings of a madman#shitpost#linked universe#linkeduniverse#lu#linked universe the chain#linkeduniverse the chain#lu the chain#linked universe twilight#twilight linked universe#lu twilight#twilight lu#I'm so in love with this moron y'all don't understand#from the moment I saw him being all cool and handsome and country boy like I was done for#it doesn't help that I'd like had the stupidest crush on him in Twilight Princess when I was 14/15 years old
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daily angel fact:
hes uh. hes r e a l l y insecure. mostly about his appearance but also partly his intelligence
#angel#his father was not a man that handed out compliments easily#and in angels mind marco got more of them#then later he married lucy who didnt realize until much later that she was a lesbian#angel is a very tightly-wound and stictly-controlled man who shed tears the first time any of his partners genuinely called him handsome#on top of that having a thick southern accent + being short + man of color means that a lotnof people will treat you like a moron
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#chilean#Texas#american#north#south#tan#sun#social#soccer#disney#art#mine#medication#i just want to sleep#photoart#mental health#healthcare#hands#handsome#husband#gram#grwm#nose job#light#happiness#1 year tumblrversary#impulsive#excellence#future#moron
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When another guy flirts with you
Characters: Demon Brothers x gn!MC (separately)
Main Masterlist
C/W: a guy flirted with MC while they were drunk, but literally that was it. It's just mentioned at the beginning. Non-established relationship, although there's clearly something between you. A bit suggestive.
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Just when you thought calling him when you needed someone to pick you up at the afterparty had been a wise choice, he made you see you were wildly wrong.
You didn't need this. A hangover was already too much for you to bear on a Sunday morning and now you had to deal with the demon's inquiries? Sure, he'd been nice and reduced his teasing, seeing as you were drunk out of your mind and in pain the following day, but nothing seemed to stop him from asking every question imaginable.
Did you have fun? Did anything bad happen? Were you hiding something? Who was that boy you were complaining about when he got to the party to get you home?
It was that last question what was really testing your patience.
A stranger insisting on buying you a drink too many times to care? Tale as old as time. You never reciprocated anyway and your grievance had been brief; you hadn't even remembered the poor idiot until the demon mentioned it with a strained smile.
"Did he really think he had a chance with you...?" he said with a hint of mockery.
His tone hid obvious jealousy and you tried hard not to show your amusement, but it was impossible.
Faking an innocent expression, you crossed your arms over the table and placed your chin over your interlocked hands. His eyes were open wide as he stared back.
"He was quite handsome, actually. Looked just like you"
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Lucifer: he's so pissed, eye twitching and smile twisting in a sadistic expression that promises a good time. He always makes sure you know you belong to him, but he wasn't aware he had to make it clear to the general public as well. The moron was attractive, you say? Just like him? Oh MC. There's no one like him.
Mammon: he's offended at first, but quickly gets distracted when he realizes you think he's "quite handsome". He will still follow you for the rest of the day, reminding you how superior he is to whoever was bothering you the night prior, but every once in a while interrupts himself to gaze at you with heated eyes.
Leviathan: he's screeching. You need to prepare him for this kind of thing, MC, you know that! You think he's handsome? But you thought another guy was handsome! Oh, but you called him, didn't you? You called him because you preferred him! He will make sure you won't regret your choices; just give him a few minutes to cool down and stop blushing behind his hand like a schoolgirl.
Satan: he may be frowning with all his might, but nothing will take that blush away from his face. Some of the things you say leave him speechless and this happens to be one of them. While angry about some guy pestering you for an opportunity that he won't ever get, Satan will spend the rest of the day taking care of you in the privacy of his room. You think he's handsome? Wanna know what he thinks of you?
Asmodeus: he's absolutely furious. No one will save you. You dare compare him to some random guy you found in a trashy club?? Partying without him is already a serious offence that he has mercifully decided to forgive, but setting his beauty and his perfection at the same level as some... drunk idiot's?? You're done. You will be hearing about this for days.
Beelzebub: he feels flattered and worried at equal levels. Being called handsome by you will forever make him blush and smile, but he is concerned about a stranger bothering you and not leaving you alone. He would've preferred if you called him sooner for that matter, although he doesn't berate you for it. As long as you're fine, he's happy.
Belphegor: he's so tired, MC. It was already a miracle that you managed to catch him awake and in a mood amicable enough to go get you in the middle of the night; do you really want to test his patience? Your words leave him silent and irritated and he will drag you to his room or the attic for a long nap session in retaliation. And when you're both done sleeping? Prepare to call him handsome again. And again. And again.
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Taglist: @ilovecandys2010 @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion @whimsybloom
#obey me#obey me! shall we date?#om! shall we date#om! swd#obey me x reader#obey me x gn!reader#obey me x gn!mc#obey me x gender neutral reader#obey me lucifer#obey me lucifer x reader#obey me lucifer x mc#obey me mammon#obey me mammon x reader#obey me mammon x mc#obey me leviathan#obey me levi x reader#obey me levi x mc#obey me satan#obey me satan x mc#obey me satan x reader#obey me asmodeus#obey me asmo x reader#obey me asmo x mc#obey me beelzebub#obey me beel x mc#obey me beel x reader#obey me belphegor#obey me belphie x reader#obey me belphie x mc#obey me fluff
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It all starts with a nightmare, a terrifying vision of Jorbin Peterson at the bottom of the ocean with a talking lobster. Soon enough, Jorbin wakes and begins a fateful journey that will put his wildly inconsistent and belligerently hateful philosophies to the test, challenging everything he thought he knew about himself.
Now followed by a strange manifestation in the form of a handsome, shirtless lobster, Jorbin is struggling to find mental balance. Is he really the suave intellectual giant he sees in his head, or a deeply goofy bigot who’s utterly out of his mind?
No matter what, one thing’s for sure: Jorbin Peterson is an awful hang.
This important tale is 4,500 words of sexless self-discovery between a physically manifested humanoid lobster and a smug, self-important manic who uses vague, half-baked ideas and big words to sound smart when in reality he’s just a weird little guy and honestly it’s not that difficult to see it.
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new poundless tingler 'JORBIN PETERSON IS NOT POUNDED BY HIS RAMBLING CONSERVATIVE TALKING POINTS DISGUISED AS INTELLECTUALISM BECAUSE THEY’RE UTTERLY MORONIC AND NOTHING MORE THAN HATEFUL, BARELY COHERENT WORD SLUDGE' on amazon or patreon
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𝐅𝐈���𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 : hinata shoyo.


hinata catches your eye for the first time one afternoon, while you were walking home from school. you'd been taking this route home since your first year, and now, as a second year highschooler, you were sure you'd never seen him go by this way before.
you'd been looking up at the sky, admiring the colours splayed out and blending together along with the setting sun, when you heard the ting-ting of a bicycle bell in the distance.
upon casting your view back onto the street, you were met with the sight of him cycling past— and your eyes had met briefly, you think — and in that brief moment in which you'd caught sight of his eyes, you'd immediately fallen in love.
perhaps not really, but the firecracker tint of his eyes as they flashed in the sunlight had indeed captured your attention - and you'd thought about him the entire way home. it was a i-met-the-cutest-guy-today-and-i'll-never-see-him-again kind of moment.
except you did see him again, the very next day as you walked the usual path home from school. this time, he'd been with a friend — a black haired, dark eyed boy that didn't even fully register in your mind, because you were too busy taking in a second detail about hinata himself.
his mouth was stretched in a wide, summery grin — and then you learned his name, too, because his friend angrily yelled out, "hinata you fucking moron!"
he was pretty, you thought — really pretty. not handsome in the traditional sense, but good looking in a boyish, mischief-laden way.
after that, you saw him almost every day. you'd see him cycling down the street and disappear around the corner on your way home from school, and on occassion, it was the only thing you ever looked forward to.
this boy, this cute (and athletic, it seemed, since he cycled and seemed to be in a sports team, assuming from the jersey he donned some days) stranger whose name you'd caught only by chance — had become all of a sudden one of the constants you looked for to keep you grounded throughout your highs and lows.
he becomes more attractive to you as the days, weeks and months go by, and sometimes you hear his laugh, catch a word or two of what he's saying to the friend he cycles home with — and you fall in love with it all.
a little pathetic, it was perhaps, but sometimes it was just how it was. you didn't bother chiding yourself over it, or try to get over it — you just let it be, hoping and believing that the sight of this boy would just carry you forward for a while, and then you'd move onto other things and forget he ever existed.
after all, even if you wanted something to occur out of it, how could there be a chance of starting anything with a boy you only knew for a few seconds every day, a boy you only ever spare a glance from across the street at?
you just let it be. until one day, after an exam, you decided to stop by a shop to buy a pastry to satisfy your post-stress hunger with, and run into him.
he looked flustered, talking to the guy at the counter — and you couldn't help but overhear that he'd forgotten his wallet back in school and was unable to pay for the yakisoba bun he'd already taken a bite out of.
this was your moment, to discreetly return the favour he's been doing you everyday by cycling past and giving you something constant to rely on, to keep you on track. by becoming one of the many methodical repetitions you carried out on the daily, to help yourself through any and all the things that ever happened to you.
"excuse me," you push in, feeling timid all of a sudden as his fiery gaze, coupled with the bright curls of his hair that frame his eyes, suddenly focus on you. "how much is the bun for? i can pay for you."
of course, hinata has no choice but to let you help him, and as the two of you step out of the shop, he's bowing to you and expressing his gratitude to you, loud and fervent.
it's a little stunning, he's much better looking up close — and despite looking shorter than the rest of his friends, he's muscled and has height enough.
it was like having the sun suddenly be in your face after having hung so far up in the sky all the days past — but you manage to hold your composure and try to tell him he doesn't need to pay you back.
"no, really! how about we meet here tomorrow, same time? i'll have the money for you then." he kept insisting. "and maybe i can buy you something, too. an ice cone? a muffin?"
you were sure your heart couldn't take that. it was hard enough already, to play it cool and convince yourself that your feelings for this not-so-stranger-anymore were something temporary, something minimal.
but if he tried to make friends with you? if he bought you something to eat? if, fuck it, you had to stand so close to this summer of a boy a second time?
no, it was too risky. you couldn't. "no, it's fine. you really don't have to."
"but i gotta pay you back," he sounds disappointed, now, and you don't even know this guy, you try to tell yourself — but you can't help but soften.
"tell you what," you say, and his head lifts immediately, eyes locking with yours. "just keep cycling."
"hm?" he tilts his head to a side, and his fluffy hair bounces with the movement. "what does that mean?"
"just," you wave your hand towards the street. "take this road home everyday. you don't need to, but i think you do that already, anyway. i see you cycle past sometimes."
everyday, you think. i get to see you everyday, and that's all i'll ask for.
"so i just have to take my bike this way?" he asks, a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth. god, he's cute. "ah, so i'll see you, right?"
"mhm." it's all you can offer, and he nods enthusiastically. "sure, sure! i'll be looking for you, then — i'll wave if i see you!"
you agree, say you'll wave back — and then he's getting on his bicycle and going back on his way. you stand there and watch, and just as he's about to turn around the corner and disappear, he turns around and gives you a small wave.
you're not sure he even caught the way you waved back. but what you're suddenly starting to feel certain of is that, you know what, maybe the feelings for him that you have buried within your chest might not be as easy to ignore and leave behind, after all.
he hadn't told you his name (you knew it already, but that wasn't the point) and he hadn't asked for yours either, but you had a feeling this wasn't going to be the last time you talked to him.
you could feel it, not out of some lovey-dovey instinct but because you knew already that he was bright, fiery and someone that enjoyed connecting with everyone around him.
he'd probably ask for your name. and you'd probably have to witness firsthand, up close, the sight of his firecracker eyes again.
letting what was budding in your heart be something temporary, letting it fade away, forgetting that hinata ever existed — was probably going to be hard, impossible, even.
but the least you could do was believe, if not try. you lie to yourself.
the truth is that once you've seen the sun, the afterimage of it is stuck behind your eyes for the rest of your life. you're never going to forget that summer sun of a boy.
you walk home, thinking about how maybe one day, there'll be a night where you get to light a firecracker with him and watch the way he watches it — watch the way they light up his eyes.

#sent myself back to highschool writing this#this was actually something i wrote in 2021#i just polished it up LMAO#₊˚ପ⊹ REKHA™.#₊˚ପ⊹ IMERA.#hinata x reader#hinata shoyo x reader#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#haikyuu fluff#hinata fluff#hinata shoyo fluff#haikyuu drabbles#haikyuu headcanons#hinata headcanons#hinata shoyo headcanons#hinata drabbles#hinata shoyo drabbles
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Yin & Yang (Steddie X You)

A/N: This post got me feeling some kind of way🫠 .
Warnings: Older Daddy Eddie (Late 30s)/ Older Dom Mr. Harrington (Late 30s) & Younger Fem Sub Y/N (mid 20s)
SMUT, LOTS of dirty talk, male masturbation, fingering, talks of sharing (duh), slight innocence kink (if you squint; she's new to the dynamic), ANGST, reader deals with a rude customer and Eddie saves the day. A fight between Eddie and Y/N are mentioned.
Word Count: 4838
Donate to my Ko-Fi <3
Everyone always said Edward Munson was a rude, pretentious asshole. News outlets, websites, social media; everyone who met him briefly or not at all expressed a particular distain for him that you always found amusing when the topic came up.
Visually, he did seem a bit aloof whenever the businessman did any kind of interview or was asked any kind of question. It was always a bit odd seeing a music producer get so much attention especially one who focused on the heavy metal scene but everyone who hated him also tended to agree that he was a genius at the craft.
The bands he signed and prompted always hit high numbers on their respective charts making him and them a ton of extra money in the process.
Anything you read or heard you skimmed past mostly because that wasn’t exactly your scene nor did you know anything when it came to what goes on the background of the music industry. Working at a coffee shop wasn’t extravagant or lucrative but it got you through till you could figure what actually was your scene and go from there.
That’s how you met him.
On a particularly rough shift, a man was screaming at you about an order that you supposedly got wrong as you tried to control the tears from spilling down your face.
“How stupid are you?! It’s coffee not a fucking math equation. You just put the right liquid in the right cup and fucking hand it to me! It’s not that hard! Fucking moron.”
“Excuse me.” The man turned just as the handsome gentleman who addressed him hung up his phone and shoved it into his coat pocket. “I understand you’re a bit stressed but I’m going to have to ask you to stop harassing the young lady. It’s not her fault and she’s doing her best.”
“Pfft. Fuck off, douchebag. This doesn’t concern you.”
“It actually does because you couldn’t handle this situation in a quiet calm manner. You’re ruining everyone’s morning including mine. Now…either take the coffee she’s giving you or wait for her to make a new one patiently.”
The man’s fist flew but the gentleman moved out of the way, grabbing his wrist, and twisting it as he forced the man to kneel before him.
“Ok. If this is the way you want to do this, that’s fine. Sweetheart…” When he addressed you, you immediately stood at attention ready to die for this man if he asked after what he had just done. “Can you hand me that cup there? Thank you.”, he praises, flashing you a small smile that makes you giddy. “Now, apologize to the young lady.”
“Ow, I’m sorry!”, the man cringes when his wrist is twisted a bit more.
“Good. Take this coffee and get the fuck out of my sight. If I see you here again I won’t be so nice.”
Disregarding the Styrofoam in the gentleman’s hand, the rude customer quickly gets to his feet before running out of the store. Sighing, your hero places the coffee in front of you.
“Thank you…for defending me… He was being such an asshole.”
“Yeah, he was. It’s not your fault he didn’t order the correct thing. I can be an asshole myself but I know when and where to use it.” When you giggled, his beautiful eyes scan you over as if trying to get a read on you with the little information in front of him.
“Are you, um, are you Edward?”, you ask as you slide him the coffee with the name scrawled across.
Again, he glances you over and later on you would learn he was looking for recognition. Everyone he interacted with knew his name and who he was. You were the first person in years who seemed to regard him as just another stranger which fascinated him.
“I am but you can call me Eddie. That’s what my friends call me.”
“Oh. Um, we’re friends?”
“For now, but I’d like to be more whenever you’re open to it.”
Another smile stretched across his face when he noticed your own turn bright red as you blushed.
“You don’t even know my name.”
Coyly, he leans his elbows on to your counter as his eyes stare at your chest. At first you feel self-conscious before you realize he’s looking at your name tag and you let out a tiny laugh to break the tension.
“I’m sorry, I just—”
“Do I make you nervous?”
“A little.”
“Honest. I like that. How about this. I can pick you up after your shift today and we can start with dinner and go from there.”
“I don’t have any clothes to change into.”
“That’s ok. I think you look perfect as is and I promise when I come get you I won’t be dressed as formal.”
“O-Ok, Eddie.”
“Good. Good girl. I’ll see you tonight.”
That evening, he showed up right as the shop was about to close and when you told him it would be a few more minutes, he nodded as he patiently waited by the front door. You occasionally snuck glances at him as he browsed his phone. True to his word, he wore jeans and sneakers with a nice white button up shirt that he had rolled up to his elbows. With how he looked this morning, you imagined for him this was dressed pretty down. While his hair was slicked back when you last saw him, now his waves seemed to have a mind of their own making him seem less intimidating and quite adorable.
Eddie asked you so many different questions about yourself, silently listening as you both ate at the restaurant he took you to. You learned fairly quickly, while he seemed like a man of few words, his body language spoke loudly. His chocolate eyes never left yours as he hung on each and every word you spoke. When you said something he found even remotely funny, his lips would flicker into a slight smirk before returning to their proper alignment. When your drink ran low, his finger would raise and a waiter would promptly run your way with a refill and as the night progressed you found his leg leaning against yours with a little sigh escaping his chest when you didn’t shy away.
“I feel kind of selfish. I’ve been talking about myself a lot but I feel like I don’t know anything about you.”
“Honestly, sweetheart, it’s a nice reprieve. Everyone I run into knows me and my perceived reputation so to finally meet someone who doesn’t know me is a breath of fresh air.”
“Reputation…”, you repeated the word apprehensively.
“Um, I’m kind of known as being a jerk.”
“You don’t seem like that to me.”
Eddie smiled so wide this time that his teeth came into view and you knew at that moment you’d do whatever it took to see him smile like that as much as possible.
“Thank you for that. I can be when I need to be. In my line of work people tend to take advantage pretty early on and I wanted this industry to know I’m not someone to fuck with.”
“Do you make movies or?”
“Music. I’m a music producer for some heavy metal bands.”
“Oh wow! That’s so amazing. I would love to know more! Did you use to play?”
When he finally began to open up, hours passed like minutes and you were so entranced that you didn’t even realize the restaurant was getting ready to close.
Eddie told you at one point he was in a band but hated the way they were cast aside for being “to generic” and “stuck in the past” so he took matters into his own hands. He bought a building and turned it into a label where he could help produce his friend’s music. He learned everything he could about production and managing, getting everything together, and essentially put Corroded Coffin on the map.
He found that he actually loved working behind the scenes and stuck with it from that point forward. Now he’s a well-respected name in his field earning triple what he would have made as a guitarist.
“What’s the name of the label you first opened?”
“Franklin Production; my mother’s maiden name. It seemed right because her money bought the building and she always loved music. She died when I was young.”
When his head hung, your heart broke.
“Oh my God, Eddie. I’m so sorry.”
His mood changed in the blink of an eye as he breathily chuckled and glanced at his watch.
“Shit, Y/N, it’s almost 1am. You have to be exhausted after your long shift today. Let me pay for our meal here and then I can take you home.”
“We’ve ordered so much food and drinks. Please let me help pay.” He paused at your comment then as his eyes met your now confused ones. “What?”
“I’ve only met one person who ever offered something like you just did and that man is my best friend.”
“I mean…it’s rude…isn’t it? It’s not fair for me to expect you to pay for everything.”
“Fuck me, baby.” Your eyelids visibly flutter at the term of endearment; coming out of his mouth with a sultry husk that made you swoon. “You’re really something special. I appreciate the offer but when you’re with me, honey, I can take care of you. It’s my pleasure quite honestly.”
You watched him pay the waiter and leave him way more than 15% before Eddie grabs your hand, leading you back to his car.
That night he dropped you off at your apartment continuing to be the perfect gentleman as he walked you to your door and kept his hands behind his back as you slowly turned your key. Before you entered, however, you paused and hastily turned to plant a small kiss on his lips. Without waiting for a retort, you want inside and shut your door with a little giggle, watching through the peephole to see what he’d do.
Eddie’s fingers softly brushed against his mouth as he grinned the way you enjoyed at the restaurant.
***
You had been together now for a few months and you loved him with every fiber of your being. Eddie was extremely protective over you insisting you quit your job and move in with him.
“Sweetheart, I don’t want you being somewhere where some fucker can belittle you and make you feel like trash. I can take care of you till you find a new job that makes you happy and people treat you with the respect you deserve.”
“Eddie, I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You’re not asking; I’m offering.”, he cooed as his hands cupped your cheeks. “You know how much Daddy loves looking after his pretty girl.”
The first time he called himself Daddy, you blushed and hid behind your hands making him smile as he chuckled low in his throat.
“Have you ever called a man Daddy before?” When you giggle and curl tighter into your body, he climbed into the bed beside you and pulled you to his side. “It’s ok, sweetheart. Nothing to be embarrassed about with me. Can I show you something?”
Eddie grins when you drop your palms and show him your beautiful face.
“Good girl.”, he praises as he takes ahold of your hand and kisses the back of it. With his eyes locked on yours, he gradually places it on the bulge in his slacks. “You feel that? Do you feel how hard I am just from being around you as is? You don’t have to do or say anything you don’t want to, princess. I’ll still be here and I’ll still want to fuck you till you can barely move.”
A smile twitched on his lips when your breathing stuttered.
“I-I-I’ve never called anyone Daddy before or done anything that’s not…”
“Vanilla?”, he helped when your sentence stalled. “Vanilla’s ok to. Definitely a delicious flavor that can’t be disregarded. Can I tell you a secret?”
“Of course.”
Eddie leans in till his mouth is just hovering over the shell of your ear.
“The fact that you’re so nervous and innocent to all this really fucking turns me on.”
When his cock strains a bit more against the fabric and pushes back against your hand, you can’t help but release a little whine as you push your thighs together.
“What’s wrong, baby? Got a bit of an ache between your legs?”
“Yes.”, you breath out heavily as his palm ghosts up your thigh and his lips tenderly peck along your neck.
“I can help with that if you want.”
“Y-Yes, Daddy, please.”
Now, you were more than comfortable especially since he was always so patient with you when it came to almost everything. Unlike your past relationships, you were genuinely surprised at how little the two of you fought if at all. Eddie was a force in his business but when you two were together he was always as accommodating as possible. The one time you ever saw his anger directed towards you was when you forgot your phone when you went on a girl’s night out with your friends.
When you came home at 2 in the morning, he was waiting in the living room and pacing with a glass of whiskey in his hand.
“It’s 2 in the morning, Y/N! I’ve been worried sick! You forgot your phone. What if something happened to you and you couldn’t reach me!?”
“Eddie, it’s ok! I just forgot it. I promise I’ll do better next time—”
“That’s not the point! What if there hadn’t been a next time!? I’m responsible for you!”
“I don’t know what you want me to say!! I’m sorry!!”
“You watch that fucking tone with me, little girl!”
“Oh yeah. Or what?!”
When the glass in his hand shattered into the wall behind you everything became abruptly silent. Tears stung your eyes as you grabbed the little trashcan nearby and scooted towards the mess, sinking to your knees as you collect the pieces.
“Y/N, baby. No. No, no. Let me clean this, please.”, Eddie begged, his tone much softer than before as he kneeled beside you.
When he tried to take the sharp items from your grasp, you angrily pulled away from him.
“I didn’t mean to forget my phone. It was an honest mistake and you had no right screaming at me like you just did!”
“I know. You’re right, sweetheart. You are absolutely right. I just… fuck… I’m so sorry, Y/N. I love you so much and the idea of something happening to you or you getting hurt just terrifies me. I shouldn’t have reacted this way.”
Blinking up at him, your hand reaches for his own.
“You love me?”
“Yeah, Y/N, of course. Since I met you behind that coffee counter.”
After tackling him excitedly, you beamed as you kissed his lips.
“I love you to.”
People on the outside didn’t seem to understand why you were with him but they didn’t know him the way you did. Eddie was sweet, funny, and incredibly kind despite his hardened outer exterior. According to the man himself, the only other person who understood him the same way you did was a man you had yet to meet.
#############
Steven Harrington was a name you knew solely due to his reputation in media.
He was always portrayed as just another trust fund baby who was utilizing daddy’s money to do whatever he wanted. He got in trouble constantly but brushed it off with a sexy smile and a calm demeanor that made even the biggest skeptic want to trust him.
The first time Eddie mentioned him by name was after you noticed him watching one of Steve’s interviews.
“Fucking idiot.”, he chuckled light-heartedly, turning the screen of his phone so you could watch to when you climbed into bed beside him. “This is the guy I was telling you about. Steve Harrington has been my best friend for years.”
“This is your best friend?”
When he nods, you focus on the interview in front of you.
“No, no. Trust me, that company would be crazy to sell right now in this economy. Once things bounce back it will be worth way more than it is now. Then again…if they sell I could buy it and turn it into a hotel or some s***. Go ahead than! Sell that f***er!”, he laughs making you giggle as well when his nose scrunches adorably.
“Steve is actually a very clever business guy. People constantly underestimate him because he acts like a playboy.”
“So…he’s the yin to your yang?”
Eddie smirks down at you before kissing your forehead.
“You could say that.”
The more your boyfriend told you about him the more you wanted to meet him. Eddie seemed to genuinely care about this person and as his girlfriend you wanted him to get to know him as well. The first time you spoke to him was after you moved in with Ed and he called to congratulate you both.
“Hey! Are you Y/N?”
“I am.”, you grin.
“Oh good. I don’t know what I would have done if you said no. ‘EDDIE! Some random pretty girl is in your place!’”, Steve laughed.
“Pft. How do you know I’m pretty?”
“Because a sexy voice like yours must be inside a beautiful woman. I’m kind of jealous.”
He said it so smoothly that if you weren’t already sitting you’re sure his words would have knocked you off your feet. Your eyes glanced towards Eddie who was watching you from his spot on the couch.
“Uh oh. Did I lose you, honey? Sorry. Sometimes I come on a bit too strong.”
“No, no. It’s ok. You just… you remind me of him.”, you exhale as you get up and walk towards your boyfriend.
“Of who? Of Eddie? I take that as a compliment. He’s a good man.”
“Yeah he is but that’s not exactly what I meant.”
“Oh? Well then use your words, pretty girl. Who do I remind you of? I’m DYING to know.”
Eddie softly smirks as he watches your breathing stagger the same way it does when you’re intimidated by something. His ring covered fingers gently trace down your arm making you shiver.
“Tell me.”
The two words that followed came out as a strong command that told you to obey. The contradiction of how he spoke now to how he had before made you dizzy and you desperately wanted more.
“Daddy.”
After tossing the phone next to Eddie, you covered your face with your palms and ran up the stairs. A few moments later, the man you loved climbed into bed beside you and collected you into his arms.
“Talk to me, baby. Remember, no matter what there’s nothing to be embaressed about, ok?” He smiled when he felt you nod against his chest. “I know Steve can be a bit much at first but he’s a good person who’s been through a lot of bullshit.”
As you sniffle, you tilt back so you could see his face.
“I feel bad.”
“About what, sweetheart?”
“I liked the way he spoke to me. It turned me on the same way you do.”
“Ok…why does that make you feel bad?”
You shrug. “I love you.”
That makes him genuinely smile.
“I love you to, Y/N, so much. That’s why I trust you, babe. I, um, I have a confession to make.” When you sit up to give him your full attention, he does the same. “I’ve known Steve for a long time and I trust that man with my life. I’ve told him things I’ve never told anyone and he’s done the same. You said, sweetheart, he’s the yin to my yang and you’re right. Fuck… how do I say this…”
“You want to share me?”
The innocent way you asked your question drove him insane but he pushed down the need to fuck you for the time being.
“Kind of, yes. I…I wanted to see how you two got along and if it worked out, maybe, we could fly to go meet him and… you’d still be mine but he’d—”
“Use me.”
“Fuck, baby, you have to stop saying things like that the way you are.”, Eddie panted excitedly as he adjusted the growing bulge in his pants.
“May I ask why? Why you would want to share me like that?”
“Of course, Y/N, you can always ask me anything. You hold the power here especially when it comes to this. I just… he’s my best friend and I want him to be happy to. In these past few months, you’ve changed my world and I just want to give him some of that. I, um, I also think…”
“Tell me, Daddy. Please.”, you beg in your tiny voice that has his eyes closing as he tries to control himself.
“Fuck… I think it would be incredibly hot to watch you fuck him.”
You had told him you were open but apprehensive because it was all new territory for you. Both men came up with an idea to help you get acclimated to the idea.
“Hey all. Wow, Jesus Christ Munson, you undersold your girlfriend’s beauty. Hot damn.”
You giggled as Eddie rolled his eyes at his friend who was laughing himself from his side of the computer screen. It looked like Steve had the device he was using for this facetime visit resting on his lower stomach as he leaned against the headboard of his bed looking incredibly sexy with his ruffled hair and tank top just barely covering the chest hair that littered his skin.
Eddie had you sitting in between his own legs as he rested his head against your shoulder and his arms hugged you to him.
“I hope I’m not making you uncomfortable. If I do at any point please just let me know and I’ll respect your boundaries.”
“You don’t make me uncomfortable but, uh, you kind of intimidate me a bit…more than Eddie did.”
“Is it because I start at 10 and go from there? Yeah, casualties of growing up in chaotic household and then starting a business where your biggest competitor is your father.”
“What DO you do? Ed said you’re an investor?”
“Kind of. I invested in a friend’s tech company many years ago and that paid off in a big way. They make medical supplies that are high quality for a cheaper price. I’m trying to expand so we can invest in more—Pfft! Listen to me talking about all that bullshit. Let’s talk about something else.”
“No, hey! That’s amazing that you do that. My father needed supplies like that but it was so hard for him to afford stuff. You’ve probably helped so many people. What supplies has your company helped make?”
Steve blinked, sitting up straighter.
“Huh.”
“I told you.”, Eddie sings as he places a delicate kiss along your skin.
“D-Did I do something wrong? Am I not allowed to ask him questions?”, you asked genuinely worried you crossed a line.
“Most people, let alone women, don’t care enough to ask us things like you just did.”
“Maybe you two are spending time around the wrong people.”
“Maybe… Damn, Eddie. She’s perfect. Where did you find her because obviously I’ve been looking in the wrong places.”
“Hm. I found her in a coffee shop being yelled at by some asshole. Fucker.”, he growled before you tilted back and kissed his cheek. “It’s not just her personality either. Her body fucking drives me crazy. Even just watching her walk from the bed to the bathroom makes me so fucking hard.”
“Yeah? Your Daddy says you have sexy body. Can you show it to me?”
“Only if you’re comfortable, princess.”, Eddie whispers in your ear.
“Can you help me, Daddy?”
Nodding, he removes each item of your clothing till you were naked for the man on the screen in front of you.
“Fuck me. I’m not just saying this, Y/N, but you’re so gorgeous.”
“Thank you.”, you groan as you lick your lips. “May I see you?”
“Well, since you asked so nicely.”, he smirks.
Your whole body tingled as you watched him undress until you sucked in a sharp intake of air when his cock sprang free from his cotton confinement.
“He’s so big.”, you murmur against Eddie’s cheek as his eyes remain downcast to focus on you. “How will it fit?”
“We’ll make fit, pretty girl. Steve and I can take care of you.”
“Everything alright?”
“Yeah. Little one is worried about your splitting her in half. “
“Don’t worry, honey, I’m a gentleman to. I’m not going to just shove my dick inside of you. Even if it takes hours, we can eat and finger your little pussy till she’s ready.”
“Fuck, Daddy, please.”
Aggressively, Eddie opens your legs wide putting you on display and making Steve groan.
“Wet already and no one’s even touched you yet.”, he responded mockingly before leaning over his cock to spit on his tip and stroke himself. “How tight is she, Munson?”
You moaned loudly as Eddie inserted two of his thick fingers into your cunt and your head leaned back against him.
“So fucking tight, Harrington, and greedy. Her pussy just sucks me in and chokes my dick when she cums. Add in her sexy little noises and the way her face scrunches…”
“Open your eyes, Y/N.” Steve smiles when you do what he asks. “Good girl. She listens to. Fuck, baby, don’t take those eyes off me. God, I’m—mmm—I’m dying to feel those pretty lips around my cock.”
“You’re really good at sucking cock, aren’t you, sweetheart?”
“Y-Yes, Daddy. I’m…M’close.”
“I know, pretty girl. I can feel it. Why don’t you tell Stevie how bad you want his cum.”
You mewl as Eddie moves at a faster pace with the sound of your slick echoing around the room.
“Please, Mr. Harrington, Sir. I-I-I want your cum so much. I want to feel you—ahhhh—feel your cock in my mouth till you spill down my throat.”
“Jesus Christ.”, he grunted and you both watched as his release hit his thigh.
“You did so good, sweetheart. Cum for Daddy now, baby.”, Eddie praised as your back pushed against his chest and you panted as you came. “That’s my girl. Good girl. Ride it out on my fingers till you come back to me. That’s it.”
“Fucking hell. That was amazing, honey.” Steve watch with fascination as you turned your body and wrapped an arm around Eddie’s chest as you curled into his warm chest. “Everything ok?”
“She’s fine. It’s something baby girl does when she cums hard like that. She’ll squeeze me like a fucking Teddy bear and fall asleep. Sometimes it’s for a few minutes or a few hours. At first I thought it was the headspace but I don’t know. Either way I love it.”
“Yeah, man. If she had a good time and is open to it I have that party coming up in a month. You two can fly down and we can hang out. Of course, nothing has to happen. I can always just show you guys around and get to know her more.”
“I’ll let you know when she wakes up and we talk about it.”
“No problem. No problem. Hey, maybe at most, you and I can fuck around.”, Steve replies as he coyly raises his eyebrows making his friend laugh.
“Ok, calm down over there.”
“Oh, come on. Not like it would be the first time—”
“Good night, asshole.”, Eddie teases as he cuts him off and closes the laptop.
#################
“Are you alright, sweetheart?”, Eddie asks as he watches you fidget with your hands as you stare at your reflection in the metal of the elevator.
“Yeah. I’m just a little nervous. This is your best friend and I know how much he means to you. I don’t want to…I don’t know…fuck anything up.”
“Fuck, I still think it’s hot when you get all jittery like this.”, he chuckles as he takes your palm in his. “You have absolutely nothing to worry about. I love you so I know for a fact he will. Just keep being your unique self, baby, and no matter what I’ll be here if you need anything.”
When he flashes you that big toothy grin, you can’t help but smile back as you lean up on your toes to kiss his lips. The doors abruptly swing open and your boyfriend’s demeanor instantly hardens at the sound of loud party guests in the room you both step into.
Your eyes swing around the area with no sign of the host himself.
Tugging on Eddie’s bicep, you lead him to the drink station where you desperately chug down some liquid courage as you pray that tonight goes as smoothly as possible.
#steddie#steddie x reader#steddie x you#steddie x y/n#eddie munson#daddy eddie#eddie munson smut#eddie munson angst#eddie munson fluff#steve harrington#steve harrington smut#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington angst#stranger things#joe keery#joseph quinn#fan fiction#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfiction#eddie fanfic#steve fanfic
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the parent trap (remake) | CS 55
cast: carlos sainz x fem!reader
warn: 100% fiction & remake
next chap
PART 13 FIRST MEET



Y/N stormed into her bedroom, yanking open the closet door with a dramatic motion. “I’m such a moron!” she exclaimed, her voice teetering between frustration and panic. “I can't handle all this damn thing.” She began pulling clothes off hangers, tossing them carelessly onto the bed as if the act of packing could somehow ease her nerves.
Martin, standing awkwardly by the door, opened his mouth to say something but quickly decided against it. There wasn’t much he could say—he’d never seen Y/N in such a state before. It was a mix of chaotic energy and raw vulnerability that left him unsure whether to step in or stay out of the way.
“I can’t believe it,” Y/N continued, more to herself than anyone else. “Carlos and I haven’t seen each other in nine years, and now I have to go back to Spain to get my other baby!” She turned to Martin, her expression a mixture of exasperation and despair. “I’m not mature enough for this.”
Martin suppressed a grimace and stayed silent.
Y/N grabbed a coat from the closet and draped it over her arm, her motions quick and restless. “I wouldn’t be so nervous if I was still married to him! God, we both made this stupid agreement to never see each other again and start a life...” Her words trailed off as she reached for a glass of wine on the nearby table and downed it in one gulp. “Look at me, Martin,” she said, turning back to her butler. “Have you ever seen me like this?”
Martin opened his mouth to answer, but Y/N cut him off with a raised hand. “Don’t answer me,” she said sharply, her eyes darting around the room as if searching for something—anything—to focus on.
At that moment, Matheo appeared in the doorway, barely able to hide the amused grin spreading across his face. He’d been listening to his mother’s frantic rambling from the hallway and found it equal parts hilarious and endearing.
“What if he doesn’t recognize me?” Y/N muttered, more to herself than anyone else. She ran a hand through her hair, her voice softening as she added, “It’s not like I’ve changed that much...” She paused, catching sight of Martin’s skeptical expression. “Forget what I said, Martin. Don’t answer that question either.”
“Ma’am Matheo said to me that his father still handsome.” Martid said while trying to clean the mess.
She paused for a moment, lost in her memories. “Matheo was right. And as I remember his gaze was always so warm. And every time he looked at me, my stomach felt like it was hosting a butterfly rave.”
Martin trying stop his face into a wide smile. That was definitely more information than he needed.
Matheo, biting his lip to keep from wide smile outright, decided it was time to step in and rescue Martin from his mother’s whirlwind of emotions.
“Mom, I’m ready!” the boy announced brightly, stepping fully into the room.
Y/N barely glanced at him, too busy adjusting her coat and muttering under her breath. “Me too... well, almost.” she gestured vaguely toward the mess of clothes and an almost-empty suitcase lying forgotten on the bed.
Matheo raised a brow and folded his arms. “Your suitcase is literally empty.”
Y/N looked at the chaos around her, then at her son. “Ah, yes… Well, I’ll sort that out later. Don’t worry about it.” She waved dismissively before changing the subject with practiced ease. “Sweetheart, have you called your father yet?”
“Oh, yeah,” Matheo replied, his tone impossibly casual. “We talked. He said he’s really nervous to seeing you again.”
Martin shot him a sharp look, eyebrows arching in disbelief at the obvious lie.
Matheo pressed on, undeterred. “Anyway, he said he’s waiting for us at the Mandarin Oriental Ritz Hotel in Madrid. Noon today.”
Y/N froze for a moment, her expression caught between surprise and mild panic. “Wow. That’s… really early,” she muttered. Then, with a burst of nervous energy, she turned to Matheo. “Baby, can you do me a favor? Go with Grandpa and buy the plane tickets while I clean up this—” she gestured wildly at the room. “—absolute disaster?”
Matheo nodded, already halfway out the door. “Okay, Mom.”
As soon as the boy left, Martin stepped closer, leaning in to whisper, “Liar…. Liar….. May your nose is going to grow like Pinocchio’s.”
Matheo, still in earshot, turned back to glare at him. “Shhh!” he hissed, silencing him with a quick gesture before disappearing down the hall.
Martin rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath as he turned to help Y/N. This reunion was shaping up to be even messier than the room.
*****
“Martin,” Y/N began, her voice shaky, “can you do me a favor? It’s… a bit out there. Strange, even. But I know you’ve always been more than a butler. You’re practically family.”
Martin raised an eyebrow but didn’t interrupt.
“What I mean is…” Y/N hesitated, running a hand through her hair, “…can you—”
“Help you with all this madness?” Martin cut her off, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “You don’t even have to ask twice.”
Y/N didn’t even give him a moment to breathe before launching forward, wrapping her arms tightly around Martin. Tears threatened to spill as he choked out, “You’d do that? For me?! Oh my god, Martin, thank you. I don’t even know how to repay you. And you don’t have to go as my butler, you can come as—”
“A friend?” Martin finished for her, smiling warmly as he patted Y/N on the head.
“Exactly!” Y/N sniffled, pulling back and wiping at her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater.
Martin’s tone turned teasing, “No problem, Y/N. But… not to be annoying, if you want my opinion, you might want to reconsider your outfit. If you’re meeting your ex, maybe wear something a little more… you know… provocative?”
“Provocative?” Y/N repeated, squinting in confusion.
Martin sighed dramatically and walked over to the closet, rummaging through its contents like a man on a mission. He emerged a moment later, “Here. Wear this. Trust me,” Martin said confidently, pointing at the pile, which consisted of a beige-colored Jacquemus backless silk dress. “This? It’ll turn heads.”
Y/N glanced skeptically at the clothes, then back at Martin. She let out a resigned sigh and muttered, “Fine. I’ll take your advice.”
An hour later, Martin stepped out of the house dressed in a sharp, unfamiliar outfit. Gone were the usual casual vibes—he looked polished, modern, and effortlessly cool.
When Y/N dad emerged a moment later, his jaw practically dropped.
“Wow,” was all he managed, though his eyes said everything.
Even Grandpa, who was usually unfazed by such things, looked stunned. “My daughter,” he whispered under his breath as he saw Y/N.
Y/N straightened her coat nervously, then turned to her dad. “Wish me luck?”
His dad pressed his lips together, clearly trying not to laugh. “I think I’ll just pray,” he said finally, shaking him head.
“Yeah, that’s probably better,” Y/N quipped, shooting her a quick grin before heading toward the car.
Matheo lingered in the doorway, looking a little lost as he watched Y/N leave. He quickly turned and hugged his Grandpa.
“Promise you’ll visit me?” he asked softly, his big eyes filled with hope.
His grandpa face softened as he cupped his cheek. “Of course, little gentleman. I’ll always visit you. Now go to your mom before she has a nervous breakdown.”
Matheo nodded, flashing him a quick smile before hopping into the car. The ride was quiet at first, a mix of nerves and anticipation hanging in the air. Y/N drummed her fingers on her knee, staring out the window, while Martin leaned back, arms crossed like he owned the moment.
“Ready for this?” Martin asked casually, breaking the silence.
“No,” Y/N admitted, her voice small. “But let’s do it anyway.”
The car rolled down the driveway, leaving behind Grandpa, who stood waving with a knowing smile on his face.
****
The Mandarin Oriental Ritz Hotel was buzzing with life that afternoon, a vibrant energy filling the luxurious lobby. Meredith stood near the grand entrance with her parents, her gaze darting towards the towering clock that loomed above. She clutched her phone, refreshing it anxiously, before turning to her father with an air of confidence she clearly didn’t feel.
“It's almost noon. He’ll be here any minute,” Meredith announced with a bright smile, although her fingers tapped nervously against the marble counter. “Dad, please… be nice to him. Carlos is everything you’ve ever wanted for me—and, well, he’s that rich.”
Her father smirked, an amused glint in his eye. “If he’s that rich, I’ll be the nicest man in the world.”
Meredith rolled his eyes but grinned anyway, her attention snapping back to the revolving doors just as a tall figure stepped through, flanked by an entourage that could rival royalty. There was Carlos, his sharp jawline highlighted by the sunlight streaming through the windows, leading his family with a confident stride. Even Sammy, their family’s enormous dog, trotted in like he owned the place.
“Oh great, the whole family is here,” Meredith muttered under her breath, though her lips curved into a practiced smile. Straightening her dress, she strode towards her fiancé, who greeted her with a chaste kiss on the cheek.
“Carlos, you finally coming,” Meredith said, her voice laced with faux enthusiasm. “And you brought… everyone. How… nice.” Her eyes landed on Sammy, whose wagging tail and massive stature immediately drew concern. “Oh, Sammy… at a hotel? Really?”
Carlos smirked. “Matheo didn’t want to leave him home alone.”
Meredith crouched down, forcing a grin as she tentatively reached out to the dog. “Hey there, boy…” she cooed, her tone sugary sweet.
Sammy, unimpressed, growled menacingly, his teeth bared. Meredith flinched and stumbled back as the dog barked. From the sidelines, Mattia snickered, while Chessy whispered a gleeful, “Good boy,” under her breath.
Chessy, turned her attention to Meredith’s parents with a disarming smile. “So… these are your parents?” she asked smoothly, her tone polite but carrying just a hint of amusement.
“Yes!” Meredith beamed, gesturing eagerly toward her parents. “Mom, Dad, meet Carlos Sainz—the love of my life.” She lingered on the last words, as if daring anyone to argue.
Her parents stepped forward, the mother radiating warmth as she extended her hand. “It’s so lovely to finally meet you, Carlos,” she said, her voice honeyed with hospitality. “We’ve heard so much about you.”
Carlos responded with charm, his Spanish accent softening his words. “The pleasure is mine, Señora.”
“And this,” she added, turning toward the younger boy, Mattia standing beside Carlos, “is their adorable son, Matheo.”
“Adorable,” Meredith’s father echoed with an awkward chuckle, though his tone suggested he was still trying to figure out the dynamic.
Mattia, wearing a small, satisfied smile, gave a polite nod but said nothing.
Carlos chimed in, as if sensing the awkwardness. “Actually, it was Matheo’s idea to meet here. Very clever of him.”
Mattia, standing off to the side, looked ready to combust from the sheer effort of keeping his expression polite. He managed a tight smile at the group, though the sharpness in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed.
Meredith’s mother, dressed in an effortlessly chic silk blouse and wide-leg trousers, leaned down slightly to address Matheo. “Hi, baby. You can call me Aunty.”
Mattia’s lips twitched into a sardonic smile, his eyes narrowing slightly as if to say, ‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’
*****
Before the awkward tension could deepen, a sleek black limousine pulled up to the entrance. Out stepped Martin, adjusting his sunglasses with his usual flair before opening the door for his boss. A bare foot promptly kicked him in the chest.
“The hand, ma’am…” Martin grumbled, catching his balance with an uneasy smile.
Out stumbled Y/N, looking devastatingly elegant in a beige-colored silk dress that clung to her figure like it was custom-made (because it was). Her golden earrings caught the sunlight as she took a swig from a vodka bottle, finishing it off and casually tossing it over Martin. Martin scrambled to catch it just in time.
“Wow, what a ride! Don’t you think?” Y/N slurred, grinning as Martin knelt to help her with her strappy designer heels.
“First time I’ve seen you drink like this, Ma’am,” Martin muttered.
Y/N chuckled, the sound light and airy. “First time I’ve had vodka. It’s… not bad!”
Matheo, who had been watching the entire debacle, buried his face in his hands. “I’m doomed.”
While the other family was busy with their own plans, Meredith stood in the center of the beautifully decorated venue, eyes scanning the room with approval. “I think the room is perfect for the wedding. It’s not too big, not too small. It really is perfect," she declared, her voice full of pride. "The guests will be amazed. Carlos, how about they wait for us by the pool while we go upstairs to relax?" She turned to her parents, who nodded in agreement, seemingly unfazed by the chaos that Chessy and Mattia were dealing with over their dog, Sammy.
Mattia, meanwhile, struggled to keep Sammy under control. The dog had other plans, tugging hard on the leash and dragging Mattia along. “Where do you want to go?” he asked quietly, his voice strained as he tried to regain control. Sammy, however, was on a mission, and Mattia had no choice but to follow. Chessy, clearly unnerved by the situation, trailed behind them with a nervous glance.
Carlos, noticing the commotion, he trying to help his son, but Meredith with her sly smile she leaned closer. “How about we check out what our honeymoon suite looks like?” she suggested, her tone dripping with flirtation. Before Carlos could reply, she linked her arm through him, ready to explore.
****
Meanwhile, in another corner of the venue, the other family was making their way toward the elevator. Y/N, however, had just stepped out of it, looking a bit disheveled. “Oops, I forgot my bag,” she announced, turning on her heel and heading toward the reception desk. Matheo and Martin exchanged exasperated looks, clearly concern with Y/N’ absentmindedness.
Back by the lobby, Mattia and Chessy were still wrestling with Sammy, who seemed determined to cause as much trouble as possible. Suddenly, Matheo’s eyes widened with delight as he spotted the dog. “Sammy!” he called out, his voice full of excitement. The dog, equally thrilled, broke free from Mattia’s grip and bounded toward Matheo. Martin yelped in surprise as the massive dog leaped up, but Matheo was unfazed, embracing Sammy like a long-lost friend.
As Mattia tried to catch his dog, the elevator doors slid shut, leaving him and Chessy stranded. Before he could process what had just happened, Y/N appeared out of nowhere, sauntering toward them in a dangerously elegant outfit that screamed old money.
Mattia’s jaw dropped. “Mom?!” he blurted, his voice a mix of shock and disbelief. Chessy, sensing the awkwardness of the moment, turned away, pretending not to see.
Y/N, seemingly unfazed, offered a breezy smile. “Matheo, my love, you didn’t have to wait for me. I can get to the room by myself.” her voice was soft, but Mattia couldn’t ignore the faint whiff of alcohol that accompanied her words.
“Matheo, wait upstairs while I relax, okay?” Y/N added, ruffling Mattia’s hair in a way that felt both affectionate and dismissive. Mattia grimaced slightly but said nothing as Y/N strolled away, her stride as confident as ever.
“Hey, Matheo,” Y/N called over his shoulder. “Were you already wearing those clothes on the plane? I don’t remember...” her voice trailed off as he nearly collided with a boy carrying a vase full of roses. “Oh, sorry,” she mumbled, sidestepping awkwardly before disappearing down the hall.
Mattia turned to Chessy, his face pale. “She’s drunk. My mom, never had more than two glasses of wine in her life, she is drunk. And today of all days.”
Chessy stifled a laugh, placing a reassuring hand on Mattia’s shoulder. “Relax. Let’s just stick to the plan.”
On the other side, Carlos and Meredith were oblivious to the chaos below, completely absorbed in each other. Meredith leaned against the elevator wall, his tone teasing. “Whoever invented the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign deserves a medal.” Carlos chuckled, pulling her closer, but his playful expression faltered as his eyes caught something beyond the closing elevator doors. There, standing in the lobby, was Y/N. Her golden earrings shimmered, her silk dress flowing with an effortless grace. Y/N offered a small wave and a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
The elevator doors shut, cutting off the view, but Carlos’s mind raced. His stomach dropped, and his heart pounded in his chest.
What the hell just happened?
prev chap
#carlos sainz fanfic#carlos sainz x reader#f1 fanfiction#f1 fic#carlos sainz#f1 fluff#carlos sainz jr#cs55#f1 imagine#f1 x reader
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The tavern scene where Merlin is playing the King at dice and using his magic and it’s really fucking hot.
As Merlin looked around at their accumulating audience, he saw more than a few red cloaks.
So the knights had come to see their king brought to his knees, Merlin thought, chuckling to himself.
“What’s so funny?” Arthur questioned boisterously.
“Nothing, sire.” Merlin singsonged with a smirk that he knew would only frustrate Arthur further. Merlin threw only a momentary glance to The Once and Future King who is soon to lose all of his silver challenging the greatest sorcerer to ever walk the earth at dice.
Merlin acted as if he were considering his bet, then stacked two piles of silver coins into the bowl.
Of course, Arthur just slung his about like he had no intention of losing it.
Think again, your royal pratship.
Arthur stepped back, next to Percival and Lancelot, to watch Merlin roll.
“Watch out. Here we go.” Though Merlin thought he saw something akin to doubt behind his King’s startlingly blue eyes.
This made Merlin smile like a fool.
The King is nervous to lose, he thought, at least he isn’t a complete moron.
Merlin schooled his face, and began to tumble the dice around in the cup. The sound almost like hooves on compact earth, or dangling talismans hung by Druids, tinkling together in the wind.
Merlin brought his hand holding the cup, up to his lips blowing air into it and letting just a little of his magic slip out.
“Ten.”
And as he knew they would, they dice rolled a perfect ten.
He laughed as irritation settled onto Arthur’s devilishly handsome face.
The king rounded the table, leaning over so his voice was heard only by Merlin’s ears.
“Enjoy this moment, Merlin. While it lasts.”
Merlin didn’t really hear it, though.
The instant that Arthur moved into his personal space, his servant was lost to the world. Distracted by soft lips twisted into a frown, a jawline chiseled from stone, and eyes too beautiful and kind for their own good.
There must be some magic there, Merlin thought. You can’t have eyes like that by the natural grace of the gods.
But if anyone were to be gifted with such a knee buckling appearance, King Arthur of Camelot was the one to deserve it.
Merlin had never seen him being untoward with any female prospects. Never saw him getting handsy with kitchen staff or lady’s maids. Merlin had never seen Arthur approach anyone in that way.
And, though sometimes he stupidly inappropriately wished it, Merlin had never seen Arthur take anyone back to his chambers.
Never once in the three years Merlin had been working for the spoiled prat of a king. Two of those years, Arthur was still a prince. Yet, he held none of the urges that people often berated when they spoke of the young. None that he gave into, anyway.
Merlin never claimed to know the inner workings on his kings mind, especially not in that area. With each passing season Merlin became more confused and less likely to broach the subject.
Not that he minded.
In fact he didn’t mind, at all.
Because there was the rather unfortunate fact that Merlin had been in love with Arthur Pendragon from the moment he laid eyes on him.
Arthur wasn’t drunk. But he had been drinking. Enough to let lingering doubts disappear into the back of his mind.
He thought about this, as he led the way to his chambers, Merlin following dutifully a few steps behind.
Merlin was completely sober.
Arthur knew because he watched Merlin all night, and the man never touched his cup, not once.
Arthur was determined. He was a King. He was supposed to look fear in the face and laugh.
He didn’t know how to handle fear in the form of the beautiful face of his magical manservant.
Merlin thought everything was normal.
Until the door closed behind him.
Arthur walked to the table, dropped his gloves on the surface, then turned to face Merlin with his arms crossed.
Gods, he was fit.
“Did you enjoy stealing all my money?”
Merlin tutted,
“Come now, sire. We both know that wasn’t anywhere near all your money.”
A chuckle left the Kings lips.
“That is not the point, Merlin.”
“And what is the point, sire?” Merlin was goading him and poking his buttons, unassuming of the bombshell that was about to be dropped in his lap.
Arthur was still smiling, but he narrowed his eyes, which put Merlin on alert. Merlin didn’t know this look. And he knew all of them. Well, almost all of them. He’d never seen this look before.
The King began to approach Merlin, slowly.
It didn’t take very long for him to reach his goal.
“The point, Merlin…” Arthur was very close now. His hopeless manservant was losing his breath, unable to look away from his gorgeous, awe-inspiring face. Merlin was boxed in by Arthur’s muscular arms, inches away from him face.
“…is that you cheated.”
Just like that, all the air was sucked out of the room.
Merlin couldn’t move, or speak, or get oxygen to his brain to make it function.
They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity.
Merlin watched as Arthur’s smile spread across his face.
He was…smiling?
Oh thank all the gods in all the heavens, he doesn’t hate me!
This is what Merlin’s inner voice was screaming to imaginary skies, until Arthur spoke again.
Merlin zeroed back in on the King’s eyes, and realized that the blue had been swallowed by black.
“You want to know something?” His voice is low and rough, and he was so close. Incredibly, impossibly close.
Merlin was not computing coherent words at the moment so he nodded, eager to know something. Anything. As long as it came from those lips.
Arthur moved in to hover his mouth just above Merlin’s skin. Right below his ear.
Merlin shivered involuntarily at the proximity, and the tease that The King of Camelot turned out to be.
“I’ve known for years, Merlin.”
Merlin might’ve been shocked, if his shock hasn’t been overrun by the way Arthur whispered his name. Like a siren song, begging him to come closer.
“But the way you looked in that tavern,”
Arthur’s breath kept caressing his skin in lapping waves and it was intoxicating. Merlin’s whole body was filled with want. He could feel it tingle in his fingertips and at the very top of his spine. Deep in his gut, where everything pooled to drag him under.
“I knew I had to have you. I can’t wait any longer.”
Arthur drew back, half lidded, smirking all-knowing.
Merlin didn’t know what he looked like but it must be a sight.
“That is, if you’ll have me.”
Merlin swallowed the past the lump in his throat before speaking, or whispering. Even if every part of him thrummed with this feeling, there was always a chance of everything crumbling. Nothing was certain, until it was.
“I am yours.” He hoped his eyes conveyed everything he ever held in, Arthur could always read his eyes.
#merthur#merlin#arthur pendragon#merlin and arthur#merthur fic#from the drafts#bbc merlin#king arthur#tavern scene#Merlin is a showoff#and a cheater#but we forgive him#because he’s hot#thank you for reading ❤️
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let it snow



eddie munson x fem!reader
my contribution for @littlexdeaths 12 days of promptmas!prompt: snowed in or caught in a blizzard
i know it’s not technically day one anymore, so sorry this is coming a bit late, but i hope it’s okay!
no warnings, just fluff!
The snow picked up an alarming amount between the time you walked into the corner store, and now. You swear you couldn’t have been inside longer than twenty minutes, and already the city streets are coated in white powder.
And it’s not a light, delicate fall of snow. Oh no. It’s huge, fluffy flakes that make it hard to see even a few blocks down the road.
You sigh, shifting the few shopping bags in your gloved hands as you prepare to brave the weather. To make matters worse, you don’t fully feel comfortable in navigating back to your hotel. You weren’t even supposed to be in such a big city all by yourself, but you’d decided to stop and stay overnight, splitting your drive home for the holidays into two parts.
You don’t know the area at all, really, and with such heavy snow coming down, you’ll be lucky if you can make it back without struggle.
You start your walk, tucking your face into your scarf as much as you can to shield it from the icy wind. It’s getting slightly darker, the winter sun preparing to hide away for the night.
Just fucking great.
You navigate the slick sidewalks, grateful you wore your most durable boots for this trek. You eye the street carefully, taking note of the shops you pass and the side streets juxtaposed with the larger main road. The longer you walk, though, the more you start to think you aren't going the right way. It didn't take you this long to get to the corner store, so there's no way it should be taking you so long to get back. And you swear you don't remember passing that building on your way.
Shit.
The white flakes seem to fall even harder now, and in the decreasing daylight you curse yourself for leaving your hotel room in the first place. You curse yourself for stopping in the middle of your drive home, too — you should’ve just stayed on course and suffered through driving at night.
You eventually make the decision to turn around, certain you're not going the correct way. Only when you turn, your heel slips on the pavement, and in one swift motion, your ass is hitting the ground. Your bags land around you in the snow, the wet substance seeping through your pants and chilling you to the bone almost instantly.
“Woah, you alright?”
You snap your head up in surprise, meeting the figure that the voice belongs to. You hadn't even noticed anyone nearby, and honestly assumed you had to be the only moron out in this weather.
“Uh, yeah. I think so,” you reply, regaining your bearings.
The stranger holds out a gloved hand, and you accept it somewhat pitifully. He helps you to your feet, and only then do you get a good look at him.
He's truly gorgeous, to say the least. Like, severely handsome. And he just watched you plummet onto your ass in the snow.
He's got the prettiest brown eyes; that's what you notice first. His brow is furrowed in slight concern, and those chocolate irises scan your face. He has long, curly brown hair, though it's mostly white from the snowflakes that cling to it. The top of his head is covered by a red beanie, which plasters his bangs to his forehead.
He's dressed in a puffy black coat and black jeans to match, with heavy combat boots on his feet. A plaid scarf finishes off the look, and although he's dressed warmly, his ivory skin is flushed red from the windchill. The tip of his nose is adorably the reddest part, and then you realize you're totally ogling him.
“Um, thank you,” you say awkwardly, bending down to retrieve your bags.
“Sorry, I would've grabbed the bags, but I honestly didn't want you to think I was going to take them and run,” he says, laughing faintly at the end.
“Why would I think that?” you ask.
He tilts his head slightly to the side.
“You're not from the city, are you?” he answers your question with a question.
“No, ah, I'm not from anywhere near here,” you admit. “I'm a small town girl to my core.”
“That explains it,” he smiles. “Well, that's refreshing, honestly.”
You smile in return, finding that you don't know what else to say, but also that you don't want to walk away from him. Luckily, he speaks first.
“What're you doing out in this weather?”
“I could ask you the same thing.”
He smiles again, that endearing little grin. “Touché, but at least I'm familiar with the area.” He pauses, then, “Do you know where you're headed? Like, you're not lost, are you?”
You feel your face heat with embarrassment. “Actually, I was trying to find my way back to my hotel. But I have no idea where it is from here. I have no clue how I got myself so turned around,”you gush, mentally kicking yourself.
You shiver, your now-wet jeans clinging to your skin unforgivingly.
“Shit, you're probably freezing,” he says. “Listen,” he chews at his lip, pausing. You can see the gears turning in his head, choosing his next words carefully. “I live right up here,” he motions behind you to a tall apartment building. “Do you want to come up? Until this storm blows over?”
For some reason, your heart skips a beat at his offer. Yes, yes I want to come up, you think. You open your mouth to say something, but no words come out.
He’s seriously one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen, and he’s offering you shelter from this storm. But on the other hand, he’s a complete stranger. You don’t even know his name, for christ’s sake.
“I swear, I’m not a creep,” he says, though he visibly cringes after he gets the words out. “Okay, feel like saying that only makes me seem creepier. But I promise. I just don’t want you out here by yourself in this weather.”
“What’s your name?” you ask, the only thing your brain can force out of your mouth.
His eyes go wide for a brief moment, as if to say, ‘Oh shit, how have I not introduced myself yet?’.
“Eddie,” he says, holding his hand out for a proper greeting.
“Eddie,” you confirm, finding that you love the way that name feels on your tongue.
God, you have got to get it together.
You give him yours in return, feeling better now that you have something to identify him by. You accept his handshake, firm but careful, like he doesn’t want to scare you off.
“So? Do you wanna come up?” he asks, not prying, but definitely hoping. Hoping you’ll say yes, because he couldn’t bear to end this conversation with you and risk never seeing you again.
“Sure, Eddie,” you say, the corner of your mouth twitching up.
And dear god, the way his eyes light up when you agree could make you crumple right there on the city sidewalks.
“O-okay,” he stutters, “Yeah, let’s go.”
He leads you towards the door of his building, taking the bags from your arms.
“I have hot chocolate, by the way. And some dry clothes for you,” he says, catching himself. “I mean, only if you want them. Shit, is that creepy?”
You laugh, letting him hold the door for you.
“It’s not creepy. Thank you. Seriously, you’re a life saver right now.”
And the way he blushes at that, the parts of his face that weren’t already wind-flushed going full pink, makes you swoon. You could actually tackle him to the ground and kiss his adorable little dimples. But you won’t, of course.
“Yeah. Sure thing,” he replies airily, smitten as he watches you traipse through the lobby.
Maybe the frightful weather isn’t such a bad thing, after all.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fanfiction#thetwelvedaysofpromptmas 🎄
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INVINCIBLE X MALE READER BRO IT COULD BE ANYTBING HERO X VILLAIN OLS IM CRHIGN MY EYES OUT
hello everypony. this is my brother. he decided to SPAM my inbox for a fanfic for his twink. as the amazing sister I am I will write smth for him (after 1.5 weeks of this sitting in my inbox) I'll make a pt.2 if u want

"No, it can't be. You can't be *villain name*." is the same thing every guy you've dated said after you told them about your secret. The truth is, the world classified you as a villain. Everyone watching the news considered you a cold, no-good killing machine.
Being a villain with telepathy, telekinesis, fire abilities, and mind-altering powers is never a good mix for anyone! Would you kill your ex's after finding out you're a villain? No, you cared too much for them. Altering their mind until you erase yourself from their minds and everyone they knew.
This time is different. You met a dorky-looking boy with slicked-back dark hair and blue eyes on your first day at Reginald Vel Johnson High School. You two had chemistry together, and the second you stepped foot in that class, he couldn't keep his eyes off you. You were so handsome in his eyes. He told William all about you every since! Crazy how much someone can be so obsessed with someone even without mind-altering.
Did you notice at first? No. Bad as feelings as you were, you could not give a fuck about Mark. He didn't interest you in any way until one day.
You were not in a good mood that day at all. Last night you were running off rooftops, trying to escape the hero in yellow and blue. You got away by creating a firewall and going into his mind, making him forget why he was there in the first place. This stunned him and you receive plenty of time to escape. The next, you got to Chem and sat behind Mark and William's lab table. You close your eyes and rest your head on the table while using your arms as support.
"*Name*? Him? The boy behind us?" William's words caught your attention. You looked up and glared at the two. Intrigued, you pretended to sleep. Keeping out for what they were about to say. Mark forcefully turned William's head,
"Noooo. Why would it be! You're so funny! hahaha," Mark grinned awkwardly. He grabbed William's face and spoke quietly but loud enough for you to hear. "Of course it's *name* you moron! Don't say it out loud-" You cut him off.
"Will you two stop talking about me?" you asked. Mark's face turned tomato red as he sank to his chair in embarrassment. Both William and Mark would look back at you but Mark would just stare at you, smiling. "Okay. Creepy...but he's kinda cute." You smiled softly.
Time past by and you couldn't stop wondering why they were talking about you! It's not like you actually knew them. Your eyes lit up as a idea was formed. If he wouldn't tell you, then why not find out for yourself. A smirk appeared on your face. "He wouldn't mind if I just- " Focusing on Mark's mind, you wonder why he's been staring at you ever since your first day, why he's talking about you like he's got some type of crush on you.
"I really like *name* but don't know how to tell him. He seems cool and I want to be closer to him but I'm scared he will shut me out... I have to tell him how I feel eventually. Right?" You're shocked. Lost for words even. Were you flattered? Maybe. It's been a while since you've been in a romantic relationship. This might be it.
A few minutes before class was about to end, an idea came to your mind. Why not give Mark some help confessing to you? Was it wrong? Yes. Did you care? No. You focused on his mind again. First, you thought of Mark confessing to you. Then, you sent it off to his brain. Lastly, you watch everything come into play. The bell rang and you packed up your stuff. Mark was lost in a trance while William was trying to figure out what was going on.
"Earth to Mark! Hellooo? Is anyone home?" You walked past the two without saying a word but stopped at the door frame. Mark snapped out of it and sprung up from his seat with a joyous smile. William raised his brows to an overly happy Mark. "Hey, are you okay-" William was cut off,
"I think I'm gonna do it, Will. I think I'll tell him how I feel."
#ambcassspeaks#ambcasswrites#invincible#mark grayson#mark grayson x reader#mark grayson x male reader#invincible x reader#invincible x male reader#invincible season 2#invincible show#invincible season 1#comic books#mlm#fluff#akward mark grayson#i need friends#request#writing requests#william clockwell#william clockwell is marks friend#i love william.#reader isn't good at feelings#male reader#gn reader#villain reader#villain x hero#hero x supervillain#reader has powers#my once a month post#friends to lovers
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Eye for an Eye
Summary: Miguel rescues you in an ugly way. A/N: my guilty pleasure is sometimes i wanna be saveddd Warnings: Brief suggestion to sexual harrassment/assault, a bit of violence.
Somehow in the year 2099, most people didn't understand that Spider-Man in this age didn't follow the famous "no killing" rule that the original Spider-Man upheld in the Heroic Age. Most people meaning criminals.
Spider-Man, even when saving people from falling from skyscrapers or punching Public Eye scum in the face, if pushed to his limits- he would kill. This was his rules, his timeline, his Nueva York and if some pesky criminal wouldn't understand that then he'd get rid of them by any means.
So where do you come in all this?
Despite your efforts at secrecy, in the dead of night Spider-Man would often escort you home after work or if you had gotten into trouble with some purse snatcher. Other times, he'd sneak in your apartment window after a long fight, wanting to see you and have you patch up the wounds that would take a little more time to heal.
Spider-Man had revealed to you that he was actually Miguel O'Hara, the handsome stranger that had seemingly bumped into you more and more often after your very first encounter with Spider-Man. Having already been in an established relationship, you felt your heart drop at this major secret.
A part of you was angry at him for not telling you. For revealing your feelings about Miguel to his alter ego Spider-Man and making a fool of yourself. For all the nights he cancelled seeing you without explanation-something that put a strain on your relationship for a while.
However the other half of you was drowned in worry. So all those times his masked covered face had come in to see you, bloody and bruised while you fixed him up, it was all him. He could die, you told him. Why would he do this to himself?
"I haven't been good all my life," He groaned while you pressed a damp cloth to his wound one night. "I think of all this as repentance for being a shocking moron in my earlier years."
"There are other ways to repent. Like donating to charity or some confession booth at a church. Not some...Not risking your life." You could barely look at him, tears brimming your eyes and threatening to fall while it clouded your vision.
"I'm not religious." Miguel replies. "It wouldn't mean anything with these in my body now. They'd probably still send me to Hell regardless." He lifts his hand, his talons auto extracting from his fingertips and he feels the bile from his stomach stir, an urge to vomit at the disgust of himself.
He forces his talons back into his fingertips so he could tilt your chin up to face him. His thumb caressed your cheek to wipe off a stray tear that had fallen. "I'm sorry I put this all on you." He whispers.
You shake your head. "You're stupid, I always knew that," You sniffle and Miguel bites his cheek so he doesn't smile. "But I could help you better now. I...I know who you are and everything makes sense now, we could-"
Miguel stops you by shushing you. "No, no, no. You're not helping me anymore." Your heart drops again.
"What do you mean?"
"This is the last time we'll see each other."
Your jaw drops this time. Eyes that widened in shock now turn to anger. "Shock, Miguel. I knew you were an asshole but breaking up with me after revealing your secret identity to me has got to be one of the lowest things you're doing."
You lean away from him, bloodied and dried cloth thrown at his chest. "I was useful when you could just pop in whenever? No strings attached–was it fun?" You scoff in hurt.
Miguel grits his teeth. "No, carajo, it's-it's me-"
"Don't bullshit me Miguel with that it's not you, it's me rhetoric." You cross your arms tightly to your chest.
"It's dangerous!" He barks back.
"Like it wasn't dangerous before?"
"It was! That's why I can't come back! I can't let myself lead them to you!" Miguel sits up and grabs onto your shoulders tightly and gives you a firm shake. His hands shake as he holds you, his head hanging. "This...this power of mine. I...it can lead so many of those assholes to you." He whispers. "I trusted you enough to come here, which I hate myself for. I should’ve never involved you in any of this.” Miguel’s hands fall from your shoulders and down your arms to grip your hands in his. “I’ve already put you in so much danger. If you got hurt, I don’t know what I’d do.”
The feeling of his talons pricking your skin and the sight of his fangs leaking a drop of his venom made you think maybe he did know what he’d do. He would just really want to avoid it.
“Miggy,” You say softly. “How about you let me make that choice? Now that I know, it doesn’t scare me. Do you know why?” You take your right hand out his grip to cup his cheek. His tired eyes look up to yours, nostril dried with blood and a scar on his forehead that surely needed bandages.
“Because I know you’ll protect me. You’re Spider-Man.” You lean in closer, Miguel under your spell. “Let me help you. That’s my decision. In return, if I’m ever a damsel in distress, I hope you’ll help me.” You give him a small smile and his hand covers yours on his cheek. He squeezes your fingers. “I promise.” He swears. Miguel always kept his promises even if he stumbled on the way. So when he went to visit you after his nightly patrol, he didn’t expect to see your entire apartment in disarray. His mask phases off his head, scarlet eyes wide and panicked. He gulps down his fear, muscles tense as he steps into your room. Blankets and pillows on the floor, some slashed and stuffing being poured out the seams. Your desk that held photos of you and your friends had also fallen to the floor, glass shattered and frames broken. Miguel takes another quiet step outside of your room. Your entire living room was a mess. Your couch had been moved and cut in half, lamps cracked and more photos on the floor. His heart stops when he sees blood in the kitchen. Some of the knives had been taken and another wave of fear splashes down his spine. It was clear there had been some sort of resistance with whoever took you. Whoever took you. Who took you? Miguel feels the fear morph into rage, his mask phasing back on his head. “Lyla. Scan this place.” He growls. His AI assistant glitches into existence, her eyes behind her pink heart shaped glasses full of worry. She begins phasing in and out of different places while Miguel lets the anger fester in his body. HIs talons on his fingers and feet itch to come out, to be sharpened for whatever poor soul’s flesh he’ll rip into. His fangs seep out his paralyzing venom, his tongue licking off the excess. Lyla appears in front of him, more meek and smaller compared to her usual upbeat and sarcastic nature. She knew there was a time and a place. “The blood isn’t hers. They most likely knocked her out since there’s no trace of her own blood around. Fingerprints on the knife handle are hers. No other DNA samples could be acquired.”
Miguel walks towards the entrance of your apartment. His hand grazes the door frame that had been split apart. Lyla appears next to him. “Forced entry, probably by foot. There’s some traces of wet soil–mainly seawater. I’ve tracked several fishing ports–most in Staten Island.” She displays holograms of different spots, standing tall by his side while he skims through. “Did you find a match on the blood?” His voice rumbles. “Negative, Miguel. None in the criminal database, including The Raft. Looks like this is the work of someone new.” Miguel grows furious. He roars as he punches his hand through the already destroyed couch. Some novice wants his attention so badly, he’s willing to piss him off for it. Miguel swings out of your place and searches the entirety of Staten Island’s fishing ports until he finds the one he was looking for. You don’t know where you are but you can feel everything. A sash was wrapped tightly around your eyes, some rope or zip ties held your wrists together and your ankles to the chair you sat on. You felt the pounding of a headache when you woke up. The last thing you remembered was one of the intruders lifting his gun and slamming the barrel down on your temple. They grew tired of you after reaching into the kitchen to protect yourself. You held them off well but you were still just one person. The sash had been lifted from your eyes and you groaned when a bright light of a lamp shined in your face. While you squinted, you could make out at least three people in front of you.
“I’m sorry about my men. They’re still a little new. You know how it is when you get trainees for a new job.” The one in the middle speaks, you noticed he also is the one that took off your sash. “What the hell was the point of all this? You just kidnap random people from their homes?” You glare up at the man and his two puppets. “Streets say you’re good friends with Spidey.” One of the smirks. “Had one of these guys watch him crawl in your window like some squashed bug.” You scoff softly, rolling your side to the side. “So what?”
The man in front shrugs. “Either you’re his whore or you know him. So which is it sweetheart?” He rests his hand on the back seat of your chair and leans in close to your face. “Who is Spider-Man?”
You licks your lips and stare back up at him, choking back the stretch his breath was. “I don’t know.”
He grins. “Hm. So you’re his whore. A special one at that. He doesn’t appear in just anyone’s home so what services do you offer him in exchange for some protection? Do they apply here? Baby, I can protect you too.”
He’s sick, your mind screamed. You struggled against your restraints.
“Shock you.” You spit on his shirt and he lands a hard slap across your cheek.
He mumbles a string of curses before grabbing your chin and forcing you to face him again. “Don’t forget who’s in the shocking chair, sweetheart. Your hero ain’t here so be a doll and shut the hell up.”
Your chest heaved up and down in deep breaths to calm your scared heart. You feel your cheek stinging and it didn’t help with this rotten man’s fingers digging into your skin.
Your silence pleases him and his other hand reaches down to your knee. “I don’t wanna hurt you, sweet thing. It’s just one simple question and I’ll let you go.” He lies. His hand rides up your thigh and your leg tries to kick him away from you but he just grips you tighter. “I don’t know.” You plead hoarsely. “I know, I know. So you say.” Out of the corner of your eye you see one of his men snatched into the darkness with a clawed hand around his mouth. Miguel. The guy in front of you digs his nails deeper in your skin and you can feel the scratch. “Eyes up here, sweetheart.” You whine at the pain, pursing your lips to keep yourself quiet. “See, Spidey’s head goes for millions of dollars–money you can’t even comprehend so if you could do your community a favor of just letting us in on some intel on the son of a bitch; that’d be great.” “You wanna kill him?” You ask breathlessly, looking to the other side to see another newbie being hindered, his neck tilted to the side while some teeth bite into his flesh. His body slowly lost consciousness and was also dragged into the darkness silently. “Most of Nueva York wants that guy dead. All the ones on top but I’m dirt poor, sweetie. It’d be a disservice for the hero to not let me kill him. Shouldn't he give to the poor and needy?” He sighs, letting go of your cheek so both his hands rests on your upper thighs. You feel your skin crawling and try to move away as far as you can in your seat. “But you don’t know anything do you? Then I’d be doing a disservice by throwing out some useful goods here, don't you think?” His grimy hands grip your hips, looping his fingers around your jean belt loops. Before you could even think, the man is instantly ripped off of you by his shirt. He’s thrown back on his side, skidding as he comes to a halt. Spider-Man towers in front of you, his back facing you. You could still see the rage oozing from his suit, shoulders and muscles tense and claws out. His chest rises and falls with each jagged breath, the only sound coming out of him.
“Spider-Man!” The man growls, stumbling to get back on his feet. His pistol had slipped from the back of his jeans, sliding away from him. “Dammit–Darrell! Fernando!” He calls to his two men but he freezes. On the floor are both his associates, one’s clothes ripped apart with claw marks on his chest, the other with his jaw slacked open and two puncture holes in his neck–a strange mixture of blood and another liquid oozing from the wound. He lets out a strangled scream as he looks back up at Spider-Man. His tall frame stalks over to him but the man crawls to find his gun. Before he could grab it, Miguel stomps on the man's arm, giving a satisfying crack to his bone which the man cries out painfully. While he writhes on the concrete ground, Miguel grabs onto his broken arm and lifts him up–he screams, trying to push Miguel away. “You wanted to kill me?” Miguel growls, his voice deep and menacing. The man pleads for his life and another set of footsteps come from behind. “Shoot him!” The man yells as Miguel looks back over his shoulder. The rest of the group comes up from behind Miguel, raising–what Miguel considers pathetic–guns up to his face. The eyes on Miguel’s mask squint slightly and just as quickly, he turns with the man in his hands and uses his body to protect himself from the onslaught of bullets. The man’s entire group fires and every single bullet pierces into his body, splattering blood on the ground and Miguel’s suit. Miguel makes sure that you weren’t hit at any moment. Miguel tosses the limp corpse to the side and pounces into the group, attaching his fangs into some man’s neck while his talons ripped along his arm to let go of the rifle he was holding. Chaos ensues and they all begin shooting at one another in hopes that one shot could land on Spider-Man. Miguel’s claws ripped apart limbs and skin, every single hand that raised against you was littered to the ground. He continues to swing and jump around, letting everyone get lost in the confusion before tearing through chests and stomachs. His rage knew no bounds at the moment. He had planned to just come in secretly while he still had a part of his mind. Get in, use his venom, take you and get out. But when he saw what that scum would’ve done to you, touching you, gripping onto you–he lost his mind. Even with Lyla’s brief protest, Miguel couldn’t help but want to tear him apart. So he did.
It wasn’t often Miguel had to be reduced to such measures but everyone had their limits. By the time it was over, he barely noticed how silent it had become. His ears were still ringing, he felt like he was underwater as he gulped in heaps of air. “Miguel!” He hears Lyla yell at him. He snaps his head to where he heard her voice, blind rage melting when he sees you still in the chair. He sees Lyla with her arms crossed, her little foot tapping angrily in mid-air. Lyla had done her best to cover your sight and hearing of the crime Miguel had done with holograms of whatever–surely it was much nicer than watching Miguel gnaw off a piece of someone’s throat. Miguel glances at his hands stained and dripping with blood. He wipes them on his legs, hoping to get it off him before you could see. He falls to his knees in front of you with a soft whine of your name and his mask phases off. “Lyla, blur the room.” Lyla does as told and lets you see him. Your eyes are concerned and scared. “Miggy…” You whisper, feeling the trauma set in. “I’m here, I’m here–I told you I’d protect you, yeah?” Miguel uses his talons to cut off the zip ties from your wrists and ankles that were digging in your skin. Once you were free, you wrapped your arms around his neck and jumped into his arms. Miguel fell back but made sure to hug you back, his arms going around your waist while his other arm went up to cradle your head. He buried himself in your shoulder, breathing in the mixture of your natural scent and the scent of the man. He growled and held you tighter. He’d do something about that smell.
“I was so scared–I didn’t know what to do–How did you find me?” You babbled as you finally felt safe enough to sob and cry. “Don’t worry about that. You’re safe. You’re okay.” Miguel reassures you, kissing your temple and cheek, pulling away gently to brush your messy hair away from your face. He wipes your tears with the back of his hand, unintentionally leaving a bloody mark. “Shit..” He mumbles, ashamed and pulls his hand away. You stop him, holding his hand back to your cheek. You just wanted to feel him, his warmth. You weren’t stupid. You knew what happened when Lyla put up holograms that blurred what you weren’t supposed to see. You didn’t care. May they rot. “Thank you.” You whimpered. “Thank you.” Miguel presses a kiss to your forehead. “Always. I’ll take you home.” “But, my apartment–” You try to speak as Miguel moves to hold your body in one hand while he swings on his web with the other. “Not your apartment. Mine. My penthouse. I’m never leaving you out of my sight again.” Your arms were securely around his neck. He was still tense but much less before. You tried to look back down but he squeezed you tighter– he didn’t want you to see.
For tonight, he’d take care of you just like all those nights you took care of him.
#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel x reader#miguel o'hara x you#atsv miguel#miguel o'hara#miguel spiderman#miguel spiderverse#miguel ohara#spiderman 2099#miguel x you#spiderman 2099 x you#spiderman 2099 x reader#miguel o'hara imagine
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𝐉𝐨𝐲 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞



Listen y'all more content about my husband okay 👌
You are a queen-
Jaegyeon na is in love with us-
You had just gotten out of a hellish meeting and were exhausted. As you stepped outside, someone shouted your name.
"{NAME}!!!"
You turned to look and saw none other than the King of Incheon, Jaegyeon Na. He quickly straightened up from where he had been leaning against his car—almost losing his balance in the process—before rushing over to you.
"Hey, {Name}, I just—"
He sounded unsure of himself, as if hoping that would be enough for you. "This isn't even Incheon. When did you get here?" But no- you still had more questions.
You cut him off with a raised hand, and he lifts an eyebrow in surprise. "Jaegyeon Na, what are you doing here? It's nearly midnight. And this isn't even Incheon," you question, exhaustion evident in your voice. Jaegyeon stares off into space, seemingly searching for an answer.
"I... I wanted to make sure you made it home okay?" he finally says, his tone laced with hesitation.
You blinked before letting out a tired sigh and walking past him "I'm not in the mood. Just leave me be—" You tried to end the conversation, but Jaegyeon Na simply couldn't understand why you didn’t want to talk to him.
"Hey, come on, let me give you a ride," he said, grabbing your shoulder and casually dangling his car keys. You had plenty of reasons to refuse.
One, it was Jaegyeon Na.
Two, he drove like a madman.
And three... it was Jaegyeon Na.
"No—I'll just take the bus—" Before you could finish, he cut you off. "Buses already stopped running at this hour—I checked." You stopped in your tracks and turned to face him, annoyance and exhaustion written all over your face. Welp, there went that plan. And with your apartment too far to walk to, you were officially out of options.
"Look, I appreciate the offer, but I'll find another way home, okay? Now, please leave—"
You tried to let him down gently, but come on. It’s Jaegyeon Na. "Come on, don’t be like that," he said with a smirk, twirling his keys. "Let’s just go for a little joyride. It's way better to be in my car than walking, don’t you think?"
You were exhausted and didn’t have the energy for this back-and-forth anymore. "Fine. I'll take the stupid ride. But only to my place and nowhere else, got it?" Jaegyeon Na nodded eagerly, practically vibrating with excitement.
You hope that you won't come to regret this later
-
You have so so much regret
Not only had Jaegyeon been driving like a madman on laced sugar, but he had also passed your apartment three times now. "Jaegyeon Na, what the hell is wrong with you?" you snapped, glaring at him.
Still focused on the road—or at least, you hoped he was—he turned to you with a confused expression. "What do you mean?"
This man was definitely born to be a blond.
"What I mean is that you drive like a madman on crack and have passed my apartment complex three times now," you said, your tone dead serious.
For a moment, there was silence—then Jaegyeon burst out laughing. "What’s so damn funny?" you snapped, now more annoyed than exhausted. At this point, fatigue had completely left your body, replaced by pure frustration.
Among all his laugher you notice his cute smile- wtf? What...what are you thinking? You hate this man- right? OF COURSE-
"I know how handsome I am but don't stare too hard. Might start day dreaming." You snapped out of your thoughts to see jaegyeon still driving but his eyes on you. "What hell?- EYES on the raod, you moron!" You yell and hear him chuckle.
"OH but you can stare at me?" He replied back with a smirk on his face. You were floored- he isn't even that good looking! N-nope- just some basic blond-
"I wasn't staring! Or day dreaming!" You could hear Jaegyeon na chuchle as he pulled into your apartment's parking garage. FINALLY! You angrily gather your things as jaegyeon na gets out of the car and walks over to the passenger side.
Opening the car door with a smug smirk. "Hope you enjoy our little joyride together, let's do it." You angrily told him to go fuck himself- you most certainly did NOT enjoy the car ride with that sexy blond- NO-
As you angrily get onto the elevator you see jaegyeon na about to get in his fancy car, he looks and you and winks with a smirk before getting in and than the elevator door close-
That prick!
Once you get into your apartment you see a message you got a from a random number. When you look, it's two words.
Joy ride.
#lookism#lookism manhwa#lookism x reader#jaegyeon na#x reader#lookism jaegyeon#jaegyeon x reader#jaegyeon na x reader#lookism jaegyeon na
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Bunnyblade's 5-Step Plan to World Dominance
(Ok ok first as a biologist I must do my due diligence to be like, there’s actually lots of rules regarding animal experimentation and their quality of life, animal testing greatly increases the safety of BOTH humans and the environment, etc etc IACUC is extensive and thought out. However. Whump :)
Tw: referenced animal abuse, trauma, blood
Lab Bunnyblade. Blood red eyes and sleek white fur that covers up his many scars. He’s level E under the USDA Pain and Distress category. No anesthesia, no rest. Little bun who always bites when he shouldn’t and kicks at scientists and doesn’t know anything but glass and iron and white and fear.
In his immense wisdom and many years of bunny experience (he is TWO (2) whole years), Bunnyblade resolves to topple the United States Government on the grounds of unethical treatment of its citizens (born on US soil! He should get rights!). But the only obstacle between him and the country descending into anarchy is escaping the lab.
As 2 in bunny years is well over 16 in human years, it’s probably not illegal for him to drive. What? Of course he knows how to drive. Bunnyblade only doesn’t know how to break, because he’s shoved a brick on the accelerator and his widdle legs can’t reach that far. He CAN use the turn signal. He doesn’t because he’s an anarchist.
So of course the greatest evil mastermind of the 21st century escapes the lab! Determined bun. Strong bun. But alone bun. All in the cold with no idea how survival works. Bunnyblade is well familiar with human lifestyles due to deciphering human languages and that one time he stole a phone and discovered the internet (with unlimited access for an entire night! THOSE FOOLS! Those moronic scientists scarcely comprehend the monster they’ve made!). But human society turns out to be very discriminatory towards rabbits with no income, and Bunnyblade is at the mercy of the elements.
Cue Philza finding what’s obviously someone’s pet trying to eat plastic turf grass. Cue him frantically chasing down a frightened bun across the neighbor hood so he can return it. (Blast! They’ve hired goons to catch him!) Except- what the hell, this rabbit seems to be evading him no matter what. And Phil starts getting tricky with trying to corner it, but it never seems to work. But in yet another desperate bid to outrun the determined little bun, he smacks into a small child, smelling his ice cream cone. After Tommy is done cursing the stranger to hell and back, he decides he’ll show up Phil by catching the rabbit cause he’s faster and smarter and handsomer!
And then stranger Kristin sees Phil making an absolute dorky fool of himself trying to save a frightened bunny and immediately thinks oh I can’t Not wife him she should help. So now they’re flirting in between absurdly elaborate schemes to trap the bun.
More and more goons are after Bunnyblade! This is TERRIBLE! They must know his secret plans to overthrow the government! It gets up to like 20 different people chasing him around the park. His heart is racing as fast as a rab- erm- okay immediately after he takes over the government he’ll rewrite all English idioms to be more rabbit inclusive, but until then- his heart is beating so fast it hurts, throbbing in painful desperation as more and more humans hunt him down in roaming packs. There’s so many he can’t ever stop running, knowing the second he’s caught he’ll be dragged back to the lab. It'll be so much harder to escape next time, maybe impossible. Never to see the outside world again. No warm sun tousling through his white fur. No soft grass beneath his feet, healing the lines scored into toe beans by wire cage floors. No. Bunnyblade can’t go back to the lab.
So he runs. And runs. Little body aching, unused to to wide open spaces but so desperate to become used to freedom.
Philza keeps being this close to capturing the bun. Mere whiskers off! Everyone is getting more and more invested in helping, feels like half the town is chipping in. There’s multiple teams competing for who captures him first. Philza isn’t sure how, but he’s somehow become the leader, coordinating groups and strategies since somehow the rabbit manages to get capture efforts tangled up in each other to thwart both teams. Tommy insists he’s in charge, though, and to appease the twerp a little Philza says the bunny’s name is ‘Technoblade’ when asked by the news crew. Tommy came up with it off of some kids show, seems to think it’s the raddest name ever.
The joke keeps getting tossed around that this is the reincarnation of Bugs Bunny, that this is a were-rabbit and they transform midday. But for the most part Philza really does this think is a normal, albeit insanely fast and lucky, rabbit. Until when he’s right on the bun’s tail, hurling himself at them in a desperate bid to finally catch them-


Concussion. Right. P-probably just a concussion haha! And after 20 million schemes 6 trips to the ER and enough carrots* to feed a small country, (*carrot thing is a myth but Phil is dumb he don’t know that),
...they catch Technoblade. Philza is cradling the bunny to his chest and -oh, oh he’s so small and soft. Could probably be held in one hand were he not thrashing so much. Philza pants in exhaustion, grinning triumphantly. Around him everyone erupts in the quietest cheers imaginable.
Technoblade is shaking badly. His fluttering heart never seems to calm even as Philza gently strokes them. His struggles are weak, poor thing worn out from fending off dozens of persistence predators. But he's safe now.
And elsewhere, a click of a spacebar on the live news story. The screen zooms in on a blurry glimpse of the escaped lab subjected. His large, terrified red eyes that almost seem to glow.
A long, long sigh, and a latex-gloved hand picks up a phone. “We found it. But it purposefully got as many eyes on it as possible.”

#technoblade#bunnyblade#o!techno#otechno#osmp#dsmp#philza#sbi au#mcyt#sbi#dream smp#emerald duo#angel duo#kristin#mumza#kristin minecraft#tommyinnit#tommy#sleepy bois inc#sbi fic#something to nom on#Bunny#Rabbit#Tw blood#tw animal experiments#Crumbs to tide you over
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Teachers pet
Stanford Pines x Gn reader(no description)
@moronic-validity
Warnings: angst ,age gap, student teacher relationship. Student is in early 20s, non descriptive sex scene. Stanford is a selfish man. Kissing. Mdni
The new substitute professor was handsome. Stanford Pines or Mr. Pines was a few years older than most of the students he was teaching. Awkward and a little on the odd side. There was no denying his passion for physics,and it translated into the way he taught his classes. He always made his lessons interesting, often showing practical examples, and invited his students to show off their work.
On one such occasion it was your turn. You would be embarrassed to admit to him just how much time and energy you had poured into the presentation. He didn't have to know that the only reason you haven't dropped the class yet was because of him. His praises and fawning over your work,the insistence on staying after class to discuss your work more in detail, the undivided attention he seemed to give just to you. Is what landed you in this mess in the first place.
It started out innocent,he would make you tea and the both of you would sit in his office unbothered discussing the work and upcoming projects. Until slowly the two of you stand talking about your school work less and less. You started getting to know him,and he learned about you. He opened up about his aspirations and dreams. You became a confidant to him clever with your jokes and wit it became routine. Every day the two of you would sit and talk about everything and nothing. You enjoyed the time together. Talking and laughing. Until it wasn't just talking anymore.
Ford watched you from afar at first,you were a promising student. But he could see that you were slipping, small mistakes you usually wouldn't make. So he decided to take you under his wing,gently guide you without making it obvious to your peers. So he gives you more praise,pushing you a little more than the rest of his students. Small things that wouldn't draw attention to you and leave you at the mercy of jealous students and teachers.
But then he had to go and invite you to his office after school. And slowly his resolve started to slip. You were younger than him and his student. He should have drawn the line he should have been a stronger man. But he was a weak man who gave into temptation. Everytime you would smile at him and show him the slightest amount of kindness he fell deeper and deeper into oblivion.
The first time it happened it was like any other afternoon. He was showing you a new anomaly that he had been tracking, and you much like anytime he spoke to you and opened up about the things he enjoyed, looked at him eyes filled with awe and adoration, and in that moment his last bit of self control slipped. He pulled you in his lips, searing hot against your own. It's like the thin thread of student and teacher snapped. And it was just the two of you,nothing outside of his office meaning anything to you at that moment.
He took your breath away and made your knees weak with his insistent touches and the breathless sounds he made into your mouth. He was firm and hot against you. His slight stubble scratching against the sensitive skin of your neck as he trailed down to litter kisses there. You should have stopped him,pushed him away, done literally anything else except pulling him closer against you moaning his name out to the world.
This continued for weeks before the two of you fell into his bed together. His kisses made you weak, his taste had you addicted to him. But it wasn't enough. You wanted to see him completely. Mark him as yours even if you knew deep down that he never would be yours. People wouldn't approve, they would say he was taking advantage. They wouldn't listen if you all but yelled at them that you were just as responsible for what happened between the two of you as Ford was.
He wanted to end it. The guilt was slowly eating away at him. He was supposed to be level headed and better than his hormonal students. But here he was just as bad if not worse. And he had to stop it before things got out of hand even more than it already was.
He would gently tell you that this had to stop. He already signed the papers to transfer somewhere else when your actual professor came back after fully recovering. Despite the fact that he had been offered a permanent position. He had to leave not just for his sake, but for yours as well. He wouldn't be the reason that you lose your place at the university because of his lack of control.
Everything would be fine. But once again nothing was as simple as it was supposed to be. You had dressed up a little for the dinner he had invented you to. And with the wine he had served the nervous tension had slowly faded. And you were both chatting and laughing. Dinner was lovely and soon you two moved to the couch. But there was clearly something that was bothering Ford if the large space between the two of you was any indication. He wants to tell you,you used to be the easiest person to talk to. He wants to spill his heart out to you. To make you see who and what he really is. But he can't not when you're looking at him like that.
So like every time before he folds and he hates himself for it. But god he loves you, so he takes and takes because this will be the last time he'll have with you.
The moment your head hits his bed,Ford is on you like a man possessed. The gentleness he usually handles you with is gone, replaced by a hunger you have never seen in him before.
“Be good for me” he whispers against your parted lips. Before his tongue is lapping into the heat of your mouth. His hand is gripping your hip holding you in place as he grinds against you. You gasp at the friction,hot and heavy as he continues to touch you in all the places that leave you gasping for more. He fills you and it's warm and perfect. The two of you fit together perfectly. You wish this moment could last forever.
Monday morning when you walk in your old professor is back and Ford is nowhere in sight. You choose to ignore the pit forming in your stomach. You'll see him this afternoon at his house. Everything is fine. Only it's not. He's gone, the only thing left is the leather bound journal he left for you with the landlord.
In it you find a note addressed to you.
I'm sorry for not being brave enough to tell you that I'm leaving. I was a coward for letting things go on for as long as they have. It hurts me to have to do this but I truly believe it's for the best. I would have held you back from your full potential. I hope this journal can be filled with your stories and discoveries. Take care.
He just left. Like what you had meant nothing. You throw the journal onto your nightstand. You want to cry and scream but you're too exhausted. So you sleep tossing and turning until eventually you give up. Switching on the lamp beside you something catches your eye. On the note there is a strange stamp on the back
“Gravity falls Oregon”
#stanford x reader#ford pines#ford pines x reader#finally wrote more than 300 words#now I just need to have the same motivation#for my 20 other wips#gravity falls#stanford pines
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