#i think I’m just really going through it
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savi0rr · 2 days ago
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Darling Wife .ᐟ
Viktor x Fem! Reader
In which, Viktor has a sweet wife that, weirdly enough, no one really knew about.
a/n: hi divas! Erm this is my first time writing for Viktor so I'm sorry if he sounds out of character.
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"Viktor? What is that on your finger?" Jayce inquired, suddenly appearing behind Viktor and peering curiously over his shoulder. Viktor felt a knot form in his stomach as he glanced down at his hand, where a gleaming wedding band rested snugly on his finger. He cursed under his breath, realizing he had meant to remove it but had completely forgotten in the whirlwind of his work.
"Just a ring," Viktor replied evasively, casting a quick look back at Jayce while clicking his tongue in annoyance. Jayce, however, was undeterred. He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest, a teasing smirk forming on his lips. "Isn’t that the same finger where wedding rings typically go?" he challenged, his eyes narrowing with curiosity. "Don’t tell me you actually have a wife?"
Viktor maintained his silence, his heart racing in response to Jayce’s playful interrogation. "Even if I did, I wouldn't share that information with you," he said tersely, redirecting his attention back to the Hextech gemstone in front of him, his mind racing as he tried to refocus on his work.
Jayce, still leaning casually against the desk, raised his eyebrow further, the smirk on his face beginning to fade away. He studied Viktor’s expression closely, a frown of confusion.
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“Viktor has a wife? That’s just absurd,” Mel declared, waving her hand dismissively as if to brush away the very notion. 
“No, I swear! He’s actually wearing a wedding ring. When I asked him about it, he responded with, ‘Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you,’” Jayce insisted, leaning closer to Mel's desk, his hands planted firmly on the surface.
Mel rolled her eyes in disbelief, leaning back in her chair and letting her hands fall into her lap. “Who on Earth would marry Viktor?” she whispered, her curiosity piqued as she leaned forward slightly, her expression a mix of intrigue and skepticism. “No offense, but…” she trailed off, momentarily glancing away, her thoughts clearly racing.
Jayce sighed, exasperated. “I mean, it’s not the best image, is it?” he muttered, shrugging as he contemplated the idea. His mind seemed to wander as he contemplated the strange pairing. “Plus, why do you even care?” Mel asked, raising an eyebrow at him, a hint of playful challenge in her voice. “Because I want to know what she looks like!” he responded with a hint of frustration, glancing off to the side, and groaning.
Mel pondered for a moment, her brow furrowing. “Even if he did have a wife, wouldn’t she be here at the Academia with him?” she pointed out, her curiosity beginning to overshadow her previous skepticism. “That’s exactly what I’m saying!” Jayce exclaimed, running his fingers through his hair in agitation. “It doesn’t add up!”
With a sigh, Mel straightened up, her expression turning serious. “Look, I have much bigger problems to deal with than figuring out who Viktor is married to,” she stated firmly.
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"When do you think he sees his wife?" Mel asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she peeked around the corner of the dimly lit hallway. The soft glow of fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting shadows on the walls of the Academia. Jayce followed her gaze, cautiously poking his head out to get a better look.
"Hmm... maybe when he isn’t buried under a mountain of work," Jayce mused, tilting his head and furrowing his brow in thought. His dark hair fell slightly over his forehead, and he swept it back with a casual motion. Mel, with an exasperated huff, rolled her eyes dramatically. 
"You should know this! You’re his partner, for crying out loud," she murmured, her tone tinged with disbelief as she crossed her arms. Jayce's expression shifted to one of sheepishness, his cheeks flushing slightly as he glanced away, avoiding her accusatory gaze.
"But I leave before him. I'm already gone by the time he usually starts his day. And when I come back to the lab, it’s always just him—working away, lost in his experiments," Jayce replied, his shoulders lifting in a shrug that conveyed both confusion and resignation. He could sense Mel's frustration, but the truth was, Viktor’s work schedule was a puzzle he had yet to solve.
Mel sighed heavily, her brow knitting together in thought. "How do you not know… never mind," she grumbled, her voice trailing off as she turned her attention back to Viktor, who was at that moment preparing to leave. 
"Shhh!" Jayce hissed urgently, his eyes widening as he quickly placed a hand over Mel's mouth, the sound echoing loudly in the stillness. They both watched in silence as Viktor slowly began to rise, gripping his crutch tightly under his arm while gathering his belongings with meticulous care. He seemed unaware of the two pairs of eyes on him, lost in his own world.
Viktor gripped his documents as he walked down the hallway, his eyes narrowed. He made his way down to the back of the Academia, opening a door. Jayce and Mel looking out the window from the other story. "The hell is he doing?" Jayce muttered under his breath. "Look," Mel said, spotting you not too far in the distance. "Is that his wife?" Jayce whispered.
"Viktor." You spoke up, smiling when you saw him. You stood up from the bench you were sitting at. Viktor eagerly wobbled over to you. "I've been waiting." You teased lightly, taking the documents from his hand and placing them down on the bench. Viktor could only stare at you. He hadn't seen you in a while. But he'd never say that he missed you. "How are you doing?" You asked gently, guiding him to sit down, placing his crutch aside. "I've been...well," Viktor said plainly. "I could be better." He muttered, glancing off to the side. You nodded, sitting beside him. You glanced down at his hand, raising an eyebrow. "You wore your wedding ring?" You asked, a small smile forming on your face. Viktor's cheeks warmed a bit, sighing. "I meant to take it off." He grumbled as his fingers ran over the wedding band. "I'm glad you wore it. It suits you." You giggled lightly, placing your hand over his.
Meanwhile, with Jayce and Mel, they could only stare in shock. "Of course, he has a pretty wife too!" Jayce groaned as he shook his head. "Of course," Mel muttered as she sweat drops. "Who knew she was so darling?"
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rafesangelita · 3 days ago
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₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 WHEN YOU KNOW, YOU KNOW | PROLOGUE
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a pogue!sweetheart!reader series by rafesangelita ©
SUMMARY: nothing could’ve ever prepared you for the handsome kook that came crashing into your life.. quite literally. it’s hard to think that at one point you and rafe didn’t know one another, especially since you two have spent every passing day together for the last four months.
WARNINGS: drug use, driving under the influence, reckless driving, rafe arguing with ward, descriptions of a mild injury, mentions of addiction and sobriety, blood, reader tends to rafe’s wounds, fluff, opposite of slowburn, forced proximity (?), time skip (from four months ago to the current day), slight angst
AUTHOR’S NOTE: ahhhhh!! it’s finally here, and i couldn’t be more excited to share this with all of you!! all feedback is deeply appreciated <3 feel free to ask to be added to the taglist if you’d like!
LINKS: series masterlist | next chapter
WORD COUNT: 2.8k
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rafe set a new record for himself tonight, and he wasn’t proud of it. not only did he lose count of the lines he snorted off of topper’s coffee table, he also had ward blowing up his phone. “aye, man, i don’t think you should be driving.” topper slurred, downing the alcohol in his glass. cleaning the residue from his nose, rafe shook him off, stumbling through the crowd of people in the living room before hopping in his truck and peeling out of the packed street.
jaw ticking, rafe cursed to himself when his phone started ringing, ward’s contact lighting up the screen. “i’m going home already, alright? yes— yes, dad! i know we have a meeting with some investors in the morning.. what? no i’m not fuckin’ high!” he rambled on, feigning offense when his father called his bluff. “just stop— i know, okay? i’ll be there in a minute—” before rafe could finish his sentence, he took a sharp turn, swerving onto the curb before hitting a light pole.
you were locking up the icecream parlor when you heard the high pitched squeal of tires against the pavement, a loud crash making you jump from your spot in front of the door. spinning on your heels, your eyes widened when you saw a black truck just feet away from the main street, smoke billowing from under the hood. unsure of what to do, you looked around to see if anyone was nearby, but of course, the strip was always empty at this time of the night.
“son of a bitch!” you heard someone groan before they tumbled out of the front seat, falling face down against the concrete. you gasped, dropping your purse before running across the street. “are you okay?!” you helped the stranger sit up, wincing when you saw blood dripping from his nose. he stared at you wide eyed, his pupils blown as you kneeled in front of him. he opened his mouth to speak but no words came out.
“it’s okay, you don’t have to say anything.” you reassured him, slipping off your cardigan before holding it against his nose. you noticed the open gash on his brow, your heart sinking when you saw his eyes soften. “we really need to get you to the emergency, do you have a phone?” rafe shook his head, leaning back against the tire of his truck. “no. well, yes, i have a phone.. somewhere.. but i can’t go to the emergency, not like this.” just then, rafe felt a sharp pain shoot up to his temple from his neck.
“yes, like this! you’re all scraped up.” you said incredulously. “no, i mean i’m not sober.” as if he was waiting for you to judge him, rafe watched as your expression didn’t falter. “i promise you, going to the emergency and getting help from a professional is a lot more better than not going at all. your truck can always be replaced; you can’t.” your words lit a fire in his chest, the sincerity in your tone making him crack a pained smile.
“i’ll go to jail for this, and i just can’t do that right now. i have to be somewhere in the morning, my dad will kill me if he finds out..” remembering that he was on the phone with ward before he crashed, he scrambled up to find the device, only to groan and plop back down on the street. still holding the pink cardigan to his head, you guided his hand to hold it for you. “what are you looking for? i can try to find it.” rafe let out a shaky breath, mumbling “my phone.” before you got up and spotted it near the tire.
turning it over, you held it up for him to see. it was completely shattered. “i don’t think it’s going to work..” you handed it to him, a bitter laugh falling from his lips. “what the fuck?” he breathed out, holding his head in his hands. you’ve never seen someone look so defeated before, your feet moving on their own before you could think. “do you think you can walk? my place is only five minutes away.” rafe looked up like he couldn’t believe the words that just came out of your mouth.
“your place?” he repeated, half shocked and half confused as to why you’d offer him help. “yes,” you nodded, taking his hand in yours, “i don’t have a phone there, but i can at least get you cleaned up..” rafe tried to weigh out his options, only to realize he didn’t have any. “are you sure?” he was truly at your mercy. “yes. here— just keep holding this to your head, let me go get my purse and we can be on our way.” you left him with your cardigan, running across the street and grabbing your bag before getting him up.
“i’m a lot stronger than i thought.” you joked, attempting to lighten the mood as you wrapped one of rafe’s arms around your shoulders. “fuck, what about my truck?” rafe leaned his weight on you, nearly making you topple over before you took a step. “someone will find it and call a tow, you could call the towing company tomorrow,” you explained to him, “do you have anything valuable in there?” rafe laughed, shaking his head. “just my piece of shit phone that has no value now.” he grunted, walking with a slight limp.
“hey, uhm, what’s your name?” rafe looked down at you, both of you sharing a glance before he looked away. despite him not being in the right state of mind, there was no doubting how insanely pretty you were. “y/n.. and yours?” why on earth were you getting butterflies right now? “rafe.” was all he replied before he started asking you an abundant amount of questions. rafe learned a lot about you in the short five minute walk to your camper. what you did for a living, where you currently worked for some extra money, what your hobbies consisted of.. along with being a pogue.
“so.. you live all alone in this pink camper in the middle of the woods? aren’t you scared some psycho will come across it and want to know who’s inside?” he asked, genuinely concerned. “a psycho?” you flashed him a playful smile, “like you?” rafe watched as you unlocked the small screen door, a chuckle threatening to slip from his throat. “i would laugh if it didn’t feel like i had a thousand needles stabbing me in my brain right now.” he swallowed thickly, accepting the hand you offered him to step in.
he was immediately hit with the smell of freshly baked cake and vanilla frosting. he loved it. “i know it’s really small in here, but you could just take a seat right there on that little couch and i’ll go get my first aid kit.” rafe did as you said, eyes darting around your space. pink florals, white lace trim, usually he’d be irked by this kind of decor, but for some reason unbeknownst to him, he didn’t mind it this time. rafe leaned back on the soft sofa, settling into the cushions while you scrambled for the little first aid kit somewhere in your bathroom.
spotting the small box on your little shelf, you grabbed it before making your way back to where rafe was sitting. he opened his eyes momentarily, finding you even more pretty now that darkness didn’t surround you two. he kept his gaze on you, watching as you took your bottom lip between your teeth. “sorry about this..” rafe took the pink cardigan away from his head, the fabric now stained with blood. “oh, don’t worry about it,” you smiled, “you needed it more than i did.”
pressing a damp cloth to his nose, rafe groaned when you applied the slightest bit of pressure. “i’m sorry!” you pouted, taking a seat next to him. rafe reassured you he was alright, a groan leaving his lips as he clutched his stomach. eyebrows knitting in confusion, you lifted his shirt, your eyes widening at the sight. he was scraped and bruised, a small wound adorning his lower abdomen. “here, lets get this off.” you pulled rafe’s t-shirt over his head, both of your cheeks heating at the compromising position.
“we could stop if this is too weird for you—” you shook your head, taking an ice pack out of your freezer. “no, it’s okay.” you pressed the cold bag to his skin, still wiping away the dried blood on his face. “i’m not sure how far you live, but i don’t think it’s a good idea for you to walk anywhere.” your voice was barely above a whisper, the sound of it soothing rafe more than any kind of medicine he could take right now. “don’t worry about me, i’ll be fine.” rafe watched your fingers dance across his stomach, your nails sparkling underneath the dim lighting of your camper.
you thought for a moment. “i guess what i’m trying to say is; i think you’re better off staying the night here..” you trailed off, meeting his gaze, “you’ll be able to get to a phone in the morning and call whoever you need to. you should just get some rest right now.” rafe was stunned. you wanted him to stay? “i don’t know..” he sounded uneasy, not because he didn’t want to, but because he couldn’t help but feel like he was imposing. “it’s okay, i swear! you could take my bed since there’s no way you’ll be able to sleep on this little thing.”
“no, no way, i’m fine with sleeping on the floor.” you smiled at him, eyes flickering down to his lips. “no, really, it’s okay…?” you trailed off, unsure of what to call him since you didn’t know his name. “rafe.” he answered. “rafe,” he liked the way his name sounded rolling off of your tongue, “i’ve fallen asleep plenty of times over here, i’ll be fine on the couch.” you got up, wringing out the towel you were using to clean him up. “i just have one rule, though,” rafe held the ice pack to his stomach, humming as you grabbed some ointment and a couple of bandages.
“you can only lay in my bed if you’re clean.. and you need a shower.” the corner of rafe’s lips quirked. “if you want to see me naked all you have to do is ask.” you blinked, pushing his chest softly. “that’s not what i meant.” you giggled. “i’ll get you a change of clothes, just get in there for right now.” rafe was already too far in to look back. getting up with your assistance, you guided rafe to the bathroom before shutting the door behind him. “there’s clean towels and wash rags on the shelf!” you called from the kitchen, yawning as all of tonight’s events started to catch up with you.
rafe didn’t know what to make of all of this. one minute he was high out of his mind, crashing into a light pole with his dad on the phone, and the next he was inside some gorgeous girl’s camper getting tended to before using a strawberry scented body wash in her shower. what the fuck was his luck? taking his time in the shower, rafe thought about how he’d explain everything to ward tomorrow, from the towed truck to the cuts and bruises.
he wondered if ward would even care.
by the time rafe was done, he was stepping out of the bathroom smelling like a slice of strawberry cake with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. he glanced over at the couch, your back facing him as you slept soundlessly. moving aside the pink curtain that concealed the doorway to your room, rafe slipped into the sweatpants you left out for him, settling underneath your silky soft sheets shortly after.
how was it that you just happened to be the only person around when he crashed? how did he crash right in front of where you worked? and why were you being so nice to him? rafe had so many questions and couldn’t think of any logical answers. he didn’t believe in fate, but looking back on it, that seems to be the only explanation. the next day he woke up to his clothes freshly washed and wearable again, your music playing softly in the kitchen. “good morning!” you chirped, your hair and makeup already done for the day.
“hey..” rafe was still shirtless, his eyes following your every move. “what time is it?” he took a seat at the little booth by the wall, his head no longer pounding the way it did last night. “it’s about to be ten. i was debating if whether or not i should’ve woken you up earlier, but you really needed to sleep.” you leaned back against the counter, admiring the handsome man in your camper. “your wallet should also be with your clothes there on that chair,” you started, “..so i was thinking; the little store just right outside of these woods has a pay phone that you can use.”
rafe nodded. “yeah, that sounds good.” he couldn’t think of the last time he woke up without wanting the day to be over with already. “hey, listen— uhm, i owe you a huge one for everything you’ve done for me.. i apologize if it was an inconvenience in any way, but i really do appreciate you.” rafe got up, grabbing his wallet from your room. “here. please take it.” you looked down at the hundred dollar bills tucked between his fingers, shaking your head as you moved his hands away.
“absolutely not.” you laughed. “no, please, take it.” rafe got closer, opening one of your palms before closing it around the bills. “rafe, i don’t want it!” you backed away, “i’m serious.” rafe let out a sigh. he already knew how this would go, so instead of urging you to keep it, he placed the money on your dresser after he was done changing. “well i guess i’ll be leaving now.” you masked the disappointment on your face by offering him a smile. “yeah, i guess so..” without saying a word, you and rafe stared at each other before he wrapped his arms around you, the action giving you butterflies.
before you could say or do anything, he pulled away and left, leaving your camper feeling more emptier than usual. you walked over to the door where you watched him walk away until you couldn’t see him anymore, a pout on your lips as you did so. while you were sure that you would more than likely never see him again, you couldn’t be more wrong. that day was the first of approximately one hundred and twenty one days, and counting, that you two would spend together. rafe came back to you the next day with a brand new pink cardigan to replace the other one you so selflessly let him ruin.
one icecream date turned into several, which then progressed into him coming over to your place with an overnight bag, his very own toothbrush now taking a spot next to yours. which then led to him picking you up and dropping you off at work, and so on until he finally said that you were his. you two spent the entire summer underneath the trees, rolling around in the grass as you two gasped each other’s names into your mouths, sharing sweet kisses and an even sweeter love that continued to grow with no intentions of ever stopping.
rafe had gotten sober out of fear that he wouldn’t remember what a love like this felt like if he was high all the time, and without judgement, you were there with him every step of the way. you stayed by his side when he felt like all hope was lost, and for that he could never thank you enough. although ward wondered where rafe would go off to, he didn’t bring himself to care as long as he was doing what he needed to do for the family business. with his dad off of his back, and you to come ‘home’ to everyday, he could say that he was truly happy.
even now as you two sat in your favorite diner, sharing a milkshake and laughing at whatever the other was saying, you felt no worries when you and rafe were together, your heart threatening to burst at the seams everytime you looked at him. everything was perfect.. at least for now. all good things must come to an end, and when you two are threatened by none other than ward himself, the love bubble you two have been mindlessly floating in is suddenly popped.
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no-144444 · 14 hours ago
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sweating- o.piastri
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summary: oscar has been acting strange
pairing: oscar piastri x fem! Brown! reader
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Zak had been worried about Oscar for a while. The far-off looks in meetings, the silence at dinners, the constant stares he was getting, all of it. He’d even been so worried, that he came to you, and you’d told him that Oscar had been just fine at home, so it must be something to do with work. 
It was a strange thing, to be dating your boss’s daughter. Oscar had in fact fallen for you within seconds of meeting you back in 2022, his first visit to MTC, before everything else happened. You, a legal trainee on the McLaren legal team, was the one running him through his contract, and he was very thankful that his lawyer was there to ask questions, because he was just focused on you. As he joined the team, you two got closer. About half way through his rookie season, he finally plucked up the courage to ask you out, and you had said yes. What ensued was a few months of sneaking around until you finally told your dad, who supported you two, but from afar. He liked Oscar, would he have preferred you pick someone that wasn’t his driver, yes, very much so, but he didn’t have a say in your life. You were an adult and if you wanted to go get your heart broken by an F1 driver, that was up to you. The one thing Zak hadn’t accounted for was the fact that Oscar was a sweetheart who was genuinely head over heels for you. He saw it when you were in the paddock, how Oscar smiled a little brighter, how he made you a priority all weekend, how he performed better. 
So what the fuck was going on with Oscar now? 
Zak was worried that he was planning on breaking up with you, or maybe he was just going through some mental roadblocks at work, so he called him into his office. 
Oscar awkwardly took a seat across from him, waiting to be addressed. 
“Are you alright, Osc? You seem a bit… off lately,” Zak asked, nothing but concern in his voice. 
Oscar shook his head. “I’m fine,” he said, but even he knew it sounded wrong. This is really not how he wanted this to go. He was insured of Zak’s worry by the way his brows furrowed. “You can talk to me kid, you know that right? If it’s about Y/n or-”
“It’s not about Y/n,” Oscar assured him. “I’m alright, I promise.”
“Oscar, talk to me, I’m here for you. If you’re going through something-”
“I’ve been trying to figure out how to ask for your blessing!” he admitted, speaking far too loud and far too fast. Oscar looked up to see Zak’s face blank, his jaw slightly dropped. “I’m so sorry-”
“You have it,” he said. Now it was Oscar’s jaw that dropped. “Of course you have it,” Zak’s lips turned into a smile. “She adores you. You clearly adore her. I love you, my wife loves you, my sons love you. Of course you have my blessing.”
He took a deep breath and smiled. “Thank you,” he chuckled. “God, I was terrified.”
“You thought I’d say no?”
Oscar shrugged. “Maybe?” 
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Zak was very happy when he woke up to a call from the two of you, engaged, a few weeks later.
oscarpiastri
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liked by pierregasly, zbrownceo, landonorris and 348,928 others
oscarpiastri: awesome season, can't wait to marry this girl though :)
comments
landonorris: OMFG YALL ARE YOUNGER THAN ME PLZ SLOW DOWN -> oscarpiastri: no more papaya rules 🤷
pierregalsy: too young -> kikagomez: bitch -> user92: lmao he's never said that before
zbrownceo: Congrats guys! Can't wait to walk you down the aisle!
charlesleclerc: MY SON IS GETTING MARRIED!!!!!! -> oscarpiastri: thank you adoptive father :)
user93: god she is GLOWING
user12: these are the cutest photos ever!!!!!!!
user8: THE RINGGGGG
lilymunihe: OMG I'M SO EXCITED!!!! ->youruser: OMG LOVE YOUUUUU
user98: they're so in love it's actually sickening
logansargeant: no ring picking creds? -> oscarpiastri: I don't think grimacing at every ring I chose was very helpful -> hattiepiastri: nah, but it was funny
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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
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covenofagatha · 3 days ago
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Sugar, spice, and everything nice (Part 3)
Word count: 3100
Warnings: semi-public sex, sex toys, masturbation
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You spend almost all of Saturday and Sunday at the bakery, just waiting for Agatha to walk in. 
She never does. 
It was especially hard on Saturday, opening up the box full of sex toys she had sent you and then having to come into work just an hour later, being more turned on than you ever had in your life. The only thing you were looking forward to was Agatha walking in and smirking at you. You were sorely disappointed.
So much so that you hadn’t even found it in yourself to use the toys she had sent. The vibrator, dildo, clit-sucker (you had finally figured out what it was), and the long distance vibrator had sat in the box on your floor for the whole weekend, you trying to not look at it whenever you walked in. 
Was Agatha worried she had made a mistake? You hadn’t texted her Saturday morning upon receiving the package, assuming she’d be in the bakery that morning, but now it seemed too late to send a message. 
Now it’s Monday and you’re supposed to go on a date tomorrow. Maybe you can wear the vibrator on Tuesday. Even just thinking about her letter sends thrills down your spine. 
Is the date still on though? 
And then the door opens and in walks Agatha. Your breath catches in your throat and you stand up off your stool. She is stunning. 
She shoots you her signature smirk and all of your worries and doubts just melt away. 
“Hey, doll,” she says, coming to a stop in front of the register. 
“Agatha,” you sigh. “I haven’t seen you all weekend.” 
She runs a hand through her hair and you find yourself transfixed. “Sorry, sweetheart. I got a new case and it’s very time-consuming. I kept trying to get away but I just couldn’t.” 
And then you feel bad, because of course the excellent lawyer was working and wasn’t avoiding you. 
A glint appears in her eyes. “Did you have a busy weekend?” 
There’s only one thing she could be possibly talking about in that tone with that look on her face. Your cheeks redden and you look at the counter, wiping an imaginary speck of dust off it. 
“I-uh-haven’t actually used any of them yet,” you answer sheepishly. You dare to meet her eyes to see that her smile has gotten bigger if possible. 
“You haven’t? Why not?” 
You shrug, too embarrassed to tell her that you were worried she was icing you out. It sounds stupid now, with her standing right there, but your thoughts tend to get the best of you when you’re alone. 
“Do you need some help with them?” Agatha asks and you choke on nothing. You open and close your mouth a few times, not able to think straight but trying to formulate some kind of response, when she tosses her head back with a laugh. “I’m just joking, doll.” 
“Do you really want me to wear the vibrator tomorrow?” Your voice falls to a hush even though it’s only the two of you in the store. 
“You aren’t wearing it right now?” She teases and you gasp at the thought of her toying with you while you try to make coffee and talk to customers. 
“No,” you squeak and shake your head furiously. “I didn’t know-”
“I’m kidding, doll,” she assures you. “Wear it tomorrow only if you want to. It connects to an app so you’ll have to send me the code on the manual once you open it. If you want to, of course.”
“I do,” you say hoarsely, feeling a flush all over your cheeks and neck. She smiles triumphantly and taps the counter. 
“So, where are you taking me on our next date?” 
You had actually spent a lot of time trying to figure it out. Obviously, as a college student making just above minimum wage, you couldn’t really treat her to a nice restaurant and you weren’t quite sure what she liked to do. 
So you were settling for something simple. 
A nice picnic in the park to watch the sunset. Maybe go for a walk after. Quality time is very important to you and you wanted to just be with the older woman. 
You hoped it would be good enough for her. 
“It’s a surprise. Pick me up at 6 tomorrow?” Not super classy to make her come get you, but you’d much rather ride in her slick, black Range Rover than have to pick her up in your ten year old Subaru. 
“Any plans for after the date?” She asks casually. 
Your mouth opens in mock outrage. “Do you think I’m the kind of girl to have sex after two dates?” With her, you are. You hope she says yes. 
She smirks. “You seemed pretty desperate for sex after the first date, sweetheart. We don’t have to do anything though. We could always go back to my place and just watch a movie.”
“That would be nice,” you admit, even though you know you want her hands on your body. Fuck, if she wanted to come around the counter and slip her fingers into your pants right there and then, you wouldn’t be opposed. 
She seems to know where your head is at and by the darkening in her eyes, she is feeling a similar sort of way. “And if you wanted to, you know, bring those toys…maybe we could finally put them to good use.” 
Your eyes widen and you nod eagerly before you can stop yourself. She chuckles. 
“Alright, well I guess I’ll see you tomorrow night at 6,” she says, drumming her fingernails on the counter one last time before shooting you a wink and leaving the bakery. 
“Don’t you want-” Your attempt to ask if she wants coffee or cake falls upon deaf ears as the door opens and she’s gone. 
You breathe a sigh of relief that she was just busy the past two days. And you’re sort of mad that you wasted those last two days not using the toys she had sent. 
But that would end tomorrow. 
Heat was already igniting in your stomach at the thought of it. You had never used a toy before and you were especially looking forward to trying the long-distance vibrator. 
The rest of your shift is pretty quiet, not too many customers either on Mondays. 
When you get back to your dorm, though, you realize that you are positively dripping. You guess your interaction with Agatha had more of an effect on you than you realize. 
You chew on your lip and your eyes keep darting back and forth between your bed and the box of toys on the floor. 
It couldn’t hurt to test one out, could it?
You grab the box with the vibrator and open it. Glancing at the instructions, you press the power button and gasp as the purple toy buzzes to life in your palm. You turn it off, heart pounding, and lay down. 
You close your eyes and remember what it was like to kiss Agatha at the Winter Wonderland the other night. Her tongue in your mouth, her sucking your lip, her hand under your shirt. You shift and hike up the skirt you were wearing and place the vibrator on your clit over your underwear. 
A whimper is forced out of your throat and your back arches off the bed. Quickly, you pull it away. 
Holy fuck. 
You’ve never felt anything so intense. 
You take a deep breath and slowly place it against you again, mind wandering to Agatha. 
Her veiny hands, her mouth, her confidence, the way she fluffs her hair. You imagine the way her fingers and tongue would feel on you. Your hips are rolling against the vibrator – that she gave you – and you’re already close. You truly cannot believe you’ve never used one before. 
You cum harder than you ever have by your own hand at the wishful thought of Agatha laughing as she holds the vibrator against you. 
It takes you a second to calm down and when you turn the toy off, you can still feel the rumbling in your hand. 
And then you reach for your phone. Just used the vibrator. You click send before you can second-guess yourself. 
Agatha’s response comes immediately after. And? 
Changed my life lol. 
She doesn’t reply for a few minutes so you go wash the toy, but when you come back, there’s a new message. 
Just wait for tomorrow night, doll. 
Heat flashes through you and you seriously consider using the vibrator again. 
But you want to wait. You can wait. 
However, the next 24 hours pass so slowly that you think time might have stopped. 
There are countless times you look at the clock, expecting an hour to have passed, only to find that it was three minutes. 
It’s like being a child on Christmas Eve again. Except instead of presents, you’re waiting to get fucked by an older woman. 
Finally, finally, she texts you that she’s on her way and to get ready (she sends a winky face, as if there’s any doubt what she means). 
You’re wearing a short lilac skirt so you bunch it up with one hand and slide your underwear to the side. You’re already wet just at the thought of seeing Agatha so you’re able to slide the bulb easily into you. It’s not too big but you can definitely feel it deep inside you. The other piece rests against your clit and you can only imagine what it will feel like when she turns it on. 
You find the bluetooth connection instructions on the instruction manual and text it to her. 
Barely a second later, she texts back Good girl. I’m about to turn into the parking lot. 
It’s going to be a long night. 
You wait until you see her car pull up before exiting the building, and as you’re walking to the car with the basket of food and a backpack with all the toys and some extra clothes, she turns it on. You almost fall to the ground. Thankfully you were holding onto the dinner tight.  
If you thought the vibrator from yesterday was intense, it’s nothing compared to the sensation of it against your clit and inside you. 
And just as quickly as the feeling came, it’s gone. You gasp and stumble hurriedly the rest of the way to the car before she can do it again. 
Agatha’s smirk is dripping with smugness. “How does it feel?” 
“Fuck,” is all you can say and she laughs. 
“Fuck, indeed. Now, where are we going?” 
You give her directions to the park. It’s in a pretty secluded area and there’s never really anyone there when it starts to get dark, so it should be empty. Even if it’s not, you’re just having a picnic. 
And just as you suspected, there’s no other cars in the lot when Agatha pulls up to park.
“What are we going here, sweetheart?” She asks, curiosity tinging her voice. She’s not judging though. You knew she wouldn’t. 
You hold up the basket. “I thought we could have a picnic?” 
She smiles. “I think that’s an excellent idea, honey.” You lead her over to a spot by the perimeter by the hand and don’t let her do anything while you shake out the blanket and take out two plates of sushi and a bottle of wine. You pour her a glass while you finish making everything perfect and she watches you amusedly while sipping on the Rosé. 
Dinner is so comfortable and filled with laughter and jokes and questions, and once you both are done with the food, you lay down on the blanket, Agatha’s arm around your shoulders and her other hand pointing out the constellations to you. 
She shows you how to always be able to find the North Star, which is in Ursa Minor, and then points out the Big Dipper, and you lose yourself in watching her point to all the stars and hearing her tell you the stories. You’re having so much fun with her and she makes you feel at peace. 
“I didn’t realize you knew so much about astronomy,” you say in awe, focusing on her face rather than what she’s showing you. She turns her head down so she’s looking at you. 
“Have you been listening or have you been staring at me the whole time?” She jokes, kissing your nose and chuckling as you scrunch it at her. 
“I’ve been listening!” 
“Oh yeah? What’s that one then?” She points at a star and as you peer at it, her finger fumbles with something and the vibrator inside of you turns on, turning your thoughts to mush. 
You had honestly forgotten that you were wearing it. 
But it’s impossible to forget now, and your fingers dig into her side and you let out a quiet moan. 
“Agatha,” you whine when it turns off. 
“What constellation is that?” She turns it on again and your hips start undulating involuntarily as you rack your brain. Your eyes frantically dart to the surrounding stars as you start whimpering. 
“Andromeda?” It’s partly a guess but you do remember her saying something about that one. You can vaguely remember the story too. Something about her mom being vain and then Andromeda being chained for a sea monster but Perseus rescues her. 
The toy turns off and you gasp for breath. Your hips are still gently riding against nothing, missing the stimulation. 
“Very good,” Agatha muses. “How are you feeling?” 
“Why don’t you feel for yourself?” You challenge but your smirk turns into a gasp when she reaches over, pushes up your skirt, and rubs your slit over your underwear. Your hips chase her fingers but she pulls away. 
You are throbbing. 
She holds her fingertips up to the lamp and you both can see them glistening. You have soaked through your panties. Before you can say anything or be too embarrassed, she sucks them into her mouth and your jaw drops. She moans at your taste and when she opens her eyes, you can barely see the blue with how blown out her pupils are. 
“Can we go?” You rasp. 
“Sure, doll,” she says and helps you pack up so the two of you can get in the car faster. You’re checking the spot one last time just to make sure you have everything when Agatha turns the vibrator on. Your knees buckle this time because of how needy you are, but she catches you. 
“Agatha,” you breathe, pleasure overtaking your body. 
“Thought you wanted to leave?” She teases innocently and you wrap your arms around her so you can try to walk because she hasn’t turned it off. 
You’ve become a moaning mess, face pressed hotly into Agatha’s neck while she basically drags you to the car. You can see goosebumps on the older woman and you can hear her breathing get heavier so you know she’s at least a little affected too. 
“Please, please, Aggie, so close,” you babble and it seems like the car is a mile away. 
“Aw, does my baby need some relief right now?” She asks, and as pathetic as it is, you nod your head eagerly. She turns it off and you’re able to stand on your own, but Agatha takes off in a different direction of the car. 
“Where are you going?” You call after her, but then you realize she’s making a beeline towards a bench. You follow in a daze, not really sure what’s going on. She sits and pats her thighs. 
“Since you’re so desperate,” she says with a smirk. You think you might cum right then and there. She spreads her legs when you get closer so you’re able to straddle one of her legs. “Grind.” 
She doesn't have to tell you twice. You wrap your arms around her neck and bury your head back into her, moving your hips experimentally. 
And then she turns the toy back on and you rip your face out of her shoulder to bite your hand before you moan loudly. 
“Fuck,” you keen, rhythm getting sloppy but she moves her hands to her waist to help you out. 
“You like this?” She pants into your ear and your resounding moan is all the answer she needs. “You like riding my thigh in a park where anyone could walk by and see how much you need me?”
You nod frantically, every single drag against her leg pushing the vibration against your clit. It feels so delicious and you’ve been on edge all day. 
“So desperate for me, so desperate for mommy,” she whispers and her voice shakes a little on the last word, almost like she was nervous. Clearly she had nothing to be nervous about though, because your walls clench even more and you let out a loud whine. You can practically hear her smirking at you. 
“Mommy,” you gasp, moving your hips faster, chasing your high. “Need to cum, so close.” 
“Do you want to cum all over my leg right now?” She says lowly, peppering your jaw with kisses. 
“Please, please, yes, mommy,” you beg. Agatha grabs your chin and tilts it up to lean in for a kiss, but she stops a breath away from your lips. 
And then the vibrations stop. 
“No, no,” you cry, furiously grinding against her leg, trying to regain the stimulation that you just lost. It’s no use; it’s not the same. Her fingernails dig into your hip to stop your movements. 
Your head drops against her shoulder in frustration and you can feel her body shake with contained laughter.
“Why?” You ask and you’re almost ashamed of how needy you sound. Her thumb swipes your bottom lip and then brushes your sweaty hair off your forehead. 
“I’m not having the first time I make you cum be on a park bench using a vibrator,” she says matter-of-factly. “It’s going to be in my bed, with either my fingers or my mouth.” You bite your lip at the thought and your hips give another weak jump. She smirks. “After that, we’ll have all the time for toys in the world.” 
And with that, she stands you back up and pulls you to the car, intending to make good on her promise. 
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jungwnies · 1 day ago
Text
INVITING YOUR F1 BOYFRIEND TO YOUR FAMILY THANKSGIVING
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୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri ୨ৎ : genre : fluff ୨ৎ : tws : light kissing, nothing heavy ୨ৎ : word count : 1862
ᡣ𐭩 a/n : this one is for all my US babies who are celebrating thanksgiving today!!
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ʚ・max verstappen
it was a week before thanksgiving and you got in your bed to see an already tired max laying down, as you get underneath the covers you lay against him and look at him, "baby."
he gives you a hum and look sat you, "yes?"
"i know you guys don't celebrate this holiday, but i really want you to come to the family dinner on thanksgiving, and i know you have practice on the 29th, so i could ask them to move the dinner a little early so you can come." you tell him, softly.
"you know i've never celebrated thanksgiving before?" he laughs before turning a bit to see your face, "if it’s important to you, i’ll be there. just don’t let me mess up your traditions, okay."
you laugh, "all it consists of is a turkey and some yams, but i mainly want you to come because my family will be there, and you know how much they love you."
“so, is this where you make me eat turkey until i can’t move? or are we going to do one of those cheesy gratitude speeches?” max teases, putting a smile on your face.
you shake your head, laughing softly. "maybe a little of both. but mostly, i just want you there with me."
max's teasing grin softens, and he presses a kiss to your forehead. "then i’m there. but i’m warning you now, if your uncle challenges me to some weird american football game, i’m going all in."
"oh, he will," you reply with a smirk, snuggling closer to him. "but i think you’ll be just fine. my mom already says you’re part of the family."
he wraps his arm around you, pulling you even closer. "good. because i don’t plan on going anywhere."
with that, you drift off to sleep in his arms, excitement bubbling in your chest for the holiday—and for having max by your side.
ʚ・lewis hamilton
you stand by the kitchen counter, watching lewis chop vegetables with surprising focus. “babe,” you say softly, leaning against the counter.
he glances up with a warm smile. “what’s up, love?”
you hesitate, toying with the edge of your sweater. “i was thinking... thanksgiving is next week, and it’s really important to me. i’d love for you to come to dinner with my family.”
he sets the knife down, giving you his full attention. “thanksgiving, huh? i’ve never done one of those before. what’s it like?”
“it’s mostly just food," you begin, thinking off all the components of a thanksgiving dinner, "turkey, stuffing, pie... oh, and my family asking you too many questions,” you laugh nervously. “but it’d mean a lot if you came. i know you’re busy, though, so no pressure.”
lewis steps closer, resting his hands lightly on your waist. “if it’s important to you, i’ll make time. i’d love to be with your family and see what this whole thanksgiving thing is about.”
you smile, relief washing over you. “really? even if it means answering endless questions about racing?”
he laughs, pulling you into a hug. “as long as they have some good food, i think i’ll survive.”
you snuggle into his chest, grinning. “trust me, my grandma’s sweet potato pie will make it worth it.”
he kisses the top of your head. “then i’m sold. just promise you’ll stick by me if someone starts grilling me about my cars.”
“deal, but i can't stop my dad from scolding you for speeding in your mercedes” you say, your heart full as you imagine lewis sitting at the dinner table, effortlessly charming your family.
ʚ・carlos sainz
you find carlos sprawled out on the couch, scrolling through his phone while lazily petting your dog, a sight that makes your heart squeeze. you sit down next to him, tucking your legs under you.
"carlos," you say softly, nudging him with your knee.
he looks up with a small smile, his brown eyes warm. "qué pasa, cariño?" (what’s up, love?)
"so... thanksgiving is next week," you start, playing with the hem of your sweatshirt. "and i was wondering if you’d come to dinner with my family."
he tilts his head, the corner of his mouth twitching like he’s holding back a grin. "thanksgiving? the one with the turkey and... what do you call it? the cranberry... jelly?"
you laugh, shaking your head. "yeah, that one. but it’s not just about the food. it’s more like... being with family and saying what you’re thankful for. i know it’s not a spanish thing, but it’d mean a lot if you came."
he sets his phone down, fully turning to you. "sabes que soy terrible con estas cosas sentimentales, ¿verdad?" (you know i’m terrible at these sentimental things, right?) "i’ll probably say something dumb like ‘i’m thankful for ferrari.’"
"my dad would probably high-five you for that," you tease, leaning closer.
he chuckles, his hand sliding to your knee. "si tu padre está de acuerdo, ¿cómo puedo decir que no?" (if your dad’s on board, how can i say no?) "but only if you promise to save me from saying something embarrassing."
"deal," you say with a grin. "but you should know... my mom is going to love you. she’s been asking about you non-stop."
"ay dios," (oh god) he groans, leaning back dramatically. "what do i even say to impress an american family."
"just be yourself," you reply, resting your head on his shoulder. "trust me, you’ll charm her in five seconds flat."
he presses a kiss to the top of your head, a playful smile on his lips. "fine, but only if i bring some jamón ibérico, your family has to try real food."
you laugh, already picturing him at the table.
ʚ・charles leclerc
you find charles lounging on the couch, leo curled up at his feet. you sit beside him, nudging him gently.
"love," you say, a little shy.
he looks up with a smile. “quoi, mon amour?” (what, my love?)
you bite your lip, feeling nervous. "so... thanksgiving’s next week, and i know it’s not a thing in monaco, but i was wondering... would you come to dinner with my family? they’d really love to have you."
charles tilts his head, a playful glint in his eyes. “thanksgiving? with the turkey and... pumpkin pie?” he laughs softly, his accent making the words sound so sweet.
you nod. "yeah, that’s the one. it’s all about family, and it’d mean a lot to me if you came."
he sets his phone down, his smile softening. “mon amour, if it’s important to you, i’ll be there. i wouldn't miss it.” his voice is warm, sincere.
you grin, leaning in a little closer. "you sure you’re ready for my family’s chaos?"
he laughs, brushing a lock of hair from your face. “i think i can survive turkey... and maybe even your mom’s pumpkin pie." he pauses, his smile turning a bit mischievous. “but don’t be surprised if i say something cheesy in front of your family, like... ‘i’m thankful for the beautiful woman beside me.’”
your heart skips, and you chuckle. "oh, charles, you're going to melt my mom’s heart."
he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. "as long as i don’t have to speak perfect english, i’m good," he teases, making your heart swell.
you smile up at him. “you’ll charm them with that accent, i’m sure.”
“maybe i’ll speak more french just to make it worse for you,” he laughs, his hand gently squeezing yours.
you lean against him, feeling warm and happy. “they’re going to love you, charles.”
“as long as i get to be with you, mon amour,” he whispers, pulling you close.
ʚ・lando norris
you catch up with lando in the paddock, after a long day of practice. the energy is buzzing around you, and you decide to ask him something you've been thinking about all day.
"hey, babe," you say, trying to sound casual.
he glances at you with a grin. “what’s up, love? you look like you’re about to ask me for a big favor.”
you take a breath, then ask, "so, thanksgiving’s next week, and i know it’s not really your thing... but would you maybe want to come to my family’s dinner? it’d mean a lot to me."
lando raises an eyebrow. “thanksgiving? where you eat a ton of food and pretend you’re thankful for it? sounds like a lot of work.” he laughs, teasing. “you sure you want me there?”
you laugh, shaking your head. “it’s more than just food. it’s about family. i’d really love for you to be there.”
he looks at you for a moment, then smirks. “well, as long as there’s no awkward speech about what i’m thankful for, i’m in.”
“no speeches, i promise," you say, nudging him. "just food and a bit of small talk, and family games"
"perfect," he says, grinning. “i’m really looking forward to explaining how fast i go, and how many awkward questions i’ll get.”
“they’ll love you,” you assure him.
“as long as i’m not talking about racing the whole time,” he says with a wink. “deal?”
you smile, relieved. “deal.”
"good," he replies. "just don’t expect me to wear anything fancy. i’m more of a jeans and hoodie kind of guy.”
"that's fine, i prefer seeing you in something casual anyways." you tell him, giving him a kiss on the cheek.
ʚ・oscar piastri
you find oscar lounging on your couch, casually scrolling through his phone. you sit next to him, feeling a bit nervous but determined.
"hey, oscar," you say, breaking the silence.
he looks up with a grin. “what’s up, love? you look like you’ve got something on your mind.”
you take a breath and ask, “so, thanksgiving’s coming up, and i know it’s not really your thing, but... would you want to come to my family’s dinner? it’d really mean a lot to me.”
oscar raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk spreading across his face. “thanksgiving? so i get to eat a ridiculous amount of food, pretend i’m thankful for it, and survive your family’s questions? sounds like a good time.”
you chuckle. “yeah, that’s about the gist of it. but honestly, i really want you there. my family’s gonna love you.”
he leans back, pretending to think for a second. “alright, alright, i’m in. but only because you’re asking so sweetly. just don’t expect me to behave too much. and, for the record, i’ll definitely be expecting enough food to make up for all the small talk.”
you laugh. “no complaints about the food, i promise. but if you start making jokes about the turkey, i’ll disown you.”
“mate, making jokes about turkey is basically my job,” he grins. “but alright, i’ll be good. as long as i don’t have to wear a suit or anything fancy.”
“you’re safe,” you reassure him. “just dress nice enough to not scare anyone off.”
he leans in closer with a wink. “deal. let’s see if i can survive a night of turkey and awkward family banter without causing too much chaos.” he smirks. “should be fun.”
you smile, feeling a wave of warmth. “i’m sure you’ll be just fine.”
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keferon · 2 days ago
Note
So I had ideas for Mecha Pilot AU while reading some of the things that other people have sent and those ideas turned into this!
Enjoy some Hot Rod shenanigans!
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
It starts when Hot Rod catches First Aid trying to smuggle a metal sheet out of the base. 
Well, no, it really started when the higher ups said that Jazz, allegedly, stole a half put together experimental mech unit. Which, Hot Rod would like to point out, makes absolutely no sense. Jazz is smart. If he was going to steal a mech, he’d wait until it was completely built and fully functional. No, there was something else going on and it had something to do with those strange upgrades that a few of the mechs got. Jazz had taken one look at them and booked it. 
Then immediately stole a half made mech that was completely covered in the stuff. 
All of this happening after he had been gone for months before mysteriously returning. 
Point is there’s something going on and it started with Jazz.
Presently, it has something to do with First Aid and the hunk of metal he’s carting around. 
The hunk of metal that looks like that strange upgraded plating. 
“Sooo…” Hot Rod says as he looks the other pilot over, “We stealing now?”
“No, I- this is- Vortex is up next for the-.”
“Nah man, you’re fine.” Hot Rod walks over to the back of the cart and places a hand on the metal. “I’m game for whatever we’re doing, I just want to know if we need to be sneaky.”
“It- what? We?”
“Yeah.” Hot Rod smiles and tilts his head to the side, like this was a given. “So, we stealing?”
First Aid gives him a look that’s a cross between befuddlement and scrutiny. It’s one he gets often, but the newer pilot seems well practiced with it. A solid eight out of ten honestly.
“This isn’t for profit.” First Aid says slowly. “And this isn’t for me.”
Hot Rod’s smile takes a slightly more feral edge. “Even better.”
_._._
Apparently Jazz has an alien robot boyfriend and the higher ups were using parts of his body for upgrades. 
Very morbid, but sadly not surprising.
They need to get as much of the original frame as possible back to Ratchet as that would make repairs easier. 
They’ve apparently been getting a lot of the pieces that had already been on other mechs through “collateral damage”.
First Aid had shrugged, “It’s not my fault if an upgraded mech gets between Vortex and a monster.”
The real tricky bits to get were the ones still on base and being tested. Which, for some reason, included an entire oversized thumb.
An oversized thumb he and First Aid are trying to sneak out from under Shockwave’s nose. 
“The rest of the hand was in random parts of the base.” Hot Rod mutters. “Why did the thumb need to be in such a secure area?”
“Complain louder. I don’t think the bugs heard you.” First Aid sasses in a hissed whisper. 
Hot Rod shivers at the reminder of Shockwave’s “helpers”. Knee high robots with four legs and a hexagonal face. They would’ve been cute had their singular yellow eye not reminded him of the eerie visage that is now the scientist's face. Shockwave used them to help in his work but to also keep an eye on his lab and the surrounding hallways. 
“Don’t even go there, Aid. You’ll end up jinxing-.”
His warning is interrupted by a faint skittering from around the next corner. 
“Crap crap crap crap crap crap crap.” Hot Rod looks around frantically before shoving himself, First Aid, and the thumb into the nearest door.
It turns out to be a closet. What kind of closet? Hot Rod doesn’t know and he refuses to find out. While it could be a normal supply closet, he’s not taking the chance that it could also be storage for strange and dubiously ethical experiments. 
So Hot Rod crams himself into the small space while keeping his eyes entirely focused on the door as he closes it. He and First Aid hold their breaths as the skittering of the bug gets louder, comes right in front of their hiding spot, then continues on without pause. 
They both let out sighs of relief and Hot Rod sets his forehead on the door. 
First Aid makes an inquiring hum. “There’s a vent in here. Think the thumb would fit?”
“Oh no.” Hot Rod says, face still against the door. “Do you have any idea how loud that would be? We aren’t dragging a large metal thumb through the metal vents and destroying our hearing with the echoing screeches.”
“Well, what do you propose we do then? Take it out the front door?”
_._._
“That never should have worked.” 
“You should never underestimate the power of looking like you know what you’re doing while carrying a box.”
“That never should have worked.”
Said large and long box holding the alien robot thumb sat innocently in the back seat of Hot Rod’s truck. 
_._._
“We need a movie for Rachet and Drift.”
Ratchet, who is helping Jazz repair Prowl, gives Hot Rod that “befuddled and scrutinizing” look that everyone seems to give him (A definite ten out of ten for Ratchet; truly a professional in giving out looks to others). “What?”
“Well, yeah! We’ve got Ratatouille for Jazz and Prowl. Aid and Vortex got a reverse Ratatouille-.”
“How’d you hear about that?” First Aid demands.
“Tailgate.” Hot Rod answers easily, then turns back to Ratchet to continue his previous thought. “So now we need to think of a movie for you and Drift!”
Ratchet’s eyes narrow in the unspoken promise of bad things to come. “No.”
Hot Rod, being the one who got a mech that catches on fire and made it work, takes Ratchet’s look as a challenge. He snaps his finger and points at the older man “I got it! ‘The Iron Giant’.”
Ratchet scoffs, rolls his eyes, and gets back to working in the alien robot’s arm. 
“What?” Jazz protests, while keeping his main focus on the internals of Prowl’s arm, “Iron Giant? Really? That’s a loose connection at best and you know it.”
“Oh? And do you have something better?” Hot Rod playfully challenges. 
“Dude, ‘Lilo and Stitch’ is right there.”
“How is that any better than mine?”
“Because War Crimes McGee here,” Jazz gestures to an amused looking Drift before getting back to his work, “is a better fit for Stitch than the Iron Giant any day of the week.”
Jazz may have a point, but while Hot Rod’s mom may have raised a fool, she definitely didn’t raise a quitter. 
“So Ratchet here tells Drift all about ohana and kicks off his character arc?”
“Not everything's one to one, Roddy. I’m not using Prowl to become the best chef is Paris. You just don’t want to admit I’m right.”
“I agree with Jazz.” First Aid cuts in. 
Hot Rod gives him a mock glare. “You’re just saying that so you won’t have to agree with me.”
First Aid shrugs. “True, but that doesn’t mean he’s wrong.”
“Children. The lot of you.” Ratchet grumbles. 
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
And yeah! Ideas was mostly ‘Hey, they could probably have Vortex get pieces of Prowl back since fights like that are bound to be very chaotic and Vortex would have no hang ups about attacking allies every now and then’
It went further as the idea of Hot Rod and First Aid trying to do spy things and be sneaky but somehow succeeding due to Shenanigans was too funny to pass up XD
Loving this AU so far and all the cool stuff people are making for it!
OMG THE CHILDREN ARE STEALING FROM THE BIG CORPORATION IM SO PROUD OF THEM~~
Also the way all these different plot lines are crossing each other and occasionally coming together is just so cool I love it
Like, yeah we have fucked up horror, we have space drama, we have Lilo and Stitch aaaaand we have option to combine them together. Also now there is Shockwave so all the guys have the "free angst" option I gues ahahah
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william-t-sickofyourshit · 14 hours ago
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“Babe, today is about spoiling you.” William repeated. “I’m not going to make you use your one good hand in order to give me a handjob.” he huffed, pressing a kiss to Sebastian’s cheek. But he did chuckle when Sebastian threatened that he won’t escape anyway. Heh… we will see. Today, William was 100% focused on pampering and spoiling his boyfriend.
“Now… you relax and catch your breath. And I will go make dinner.” William grinned. He was really a perfect boyfriend - first blowjob, now dinner. “Normal fries or sweet potato fries? I think I fell asleep earlier, before you could tell me.” he chuckled, heading towards the kitchen on slightly wobbly legs. 
William then started working on the promised burgers, rummaging through the kitchen as if he didn’t shamelessly service his boyfriend on his knees just a moment ago. He began preparing beef for the burgers, slicing and chopping all the ingredients, mixing ketchup and mayo for the sauce. The cats loved the smell of beef as William began forming the burgers, so they swarmed his legs, meowing loudly. Even Snowflake rubbed around his legs a little - the beef was worth it. 
For I have sinned...
The principal cleared his throat, eyes scanning the notes that he had wrote down before this meeting. It already lasted an hour, and the teachers gathered in the faculty room were becoming restless and bored. But indeed there were some things to discuss, with the concert that the senior class was supposed to perform at the end of the semester, and with recent staff changes. 
William glanced down at his watch, sighing softly. His class was starting in 15 minutes, so at least, whether the meeting will be done soon or not, he will get to excuse himself. He looked out of the window, his mind wandering. Principal’s voice turned into white noise in the background. It was a pleasant day, late summer. But William was looking forward to a slightly cooler weather. Wearing all black could really be bothersome at times. 
“And lastly, I am pleased to announce that we have finally found replacement for the violin teacher. Dear Mr Tanaka, may he rest in peace, was with us for so many years that I’ve been concerned we won’t be able to find someone as good as to fill this position.” the principal spoke. “But Mr… Michaelis, was highly recommended to me, and he indeed has impressive references. He will be starting this week, so please welcome him warmly once he will arrive. Ah yes… about that. He will arrive today at noon, I need someone to pick him up from the train station and bring over for the tour around the school. Any volunteers?” 
William was barely listening, and definitely not paying much attention. He glanced at his watch again, and saw that it was time to leave, as his class was about to start. He raised his hand to excuse himself, and little did he know, he just volunteered.
“Father William! Excellent!” the principal exclaimed. “Just don’t be late, the train arrives at noon.”
“Train…?” William questioned, raising his brow. He had a feeling he was missing something…
***
Right after the meeting, William had to run for the class, so he had little time to clarify what exactly he had volunteered for. He was a piano teacher in this Music Academy, but also he served as a priest in local church. Well respected, and rather liked. So when he later found out it was about the new violin teacher, he didn’t refuse. Who, other than himself, would be a better choice to introduce a newcome to their community?
So even though he raised his hand by accident, he accepted this fate.
After classes, at noon, William took a taxi and drove to the train station, to pick up their new teacher. Wearing black trousers, and a black shirt with a thin tie, was absolutely dreadful in this weather, so William quickly found shelter under the roof of the station platform, that provided some shade.
The train had just arrived. William had no idea how Mr Michaelis looked like, but he figured he will just look for someone carrying a violin case with them. 
He was in for a bit surprise.
@crazyvik97
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aplaceinme · 2 days ago
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Buck reaches the top of the stairs and looks around. His eyes zero in on Eddie, sitting on the couch, doing something with his phone.
Looking down at his hand, Buck nods in decision and confidently walks over to Eddie. 
“Here,” Buck says, thrusting his hand out to Eddie.
“Jesus!” Eddie yelps, startled. “Buck, what the hell, man?”
“Just take this,” Buck says firmly, waving the thing he is holding. 
Eddie looks at him unimpressed, the familiar expression that says ‘why do I put up with you?’, but then he grabs the ticket. 
“This is a Lakers ticket,” Eddie says breathlessly. 
“Yeah, I know,” Buck says dejectedly, looking forlornly at the ticket. 
“Why are you giving me this? Not that I’m complaining!” 
Buck sits heavily on the armchair and tries to make himself look smaller. “Tommy gave it to me… it was a gift for our six-month anniversary.”
“Oh,” Eddie mouths the word and looks down at the ticket in apprehension. “Ok, that doesn’t really explain why you are giving it to me, though.” 
“I’m not giving it to you, or well, not really. I just need you to give it back to Tommy.” 
“Give it back?” Eddie asks confused. “Wait, he only got one ticket?” 
“No, of course not. He got two but… I- I’m keeping the other as a sort of, as a souvenir or memory or whatever,” Buck shrugs his shoulders, feeling a blush creeping up his neck. 
“Seriously? You’re not going?”
“I don’t want to go alone! The sear next to me will be empty and I just, I just know that I wouldn’t be able to enjoy it.” 
“If only you didn’t have a friend who likes basketball…” Eddie says drily. 
Sighing, Buck replies, “I know but it would be weird going with you instead of him… Just give it to him and tell him he can go!” 
“Are you sure?”
“I- Yeah, yeah, I’m sure,” Buck says, trying to sound confident but he is sure he doesn’t quite manage it. 
“Alright, buddy. I will do it,” Eddie replies, giving him that small smile filled with sympathy that he has been giving him since the break-up.
It’s the day of the game and Buck is lying down on his bed trying to forget about it. However, his eyes keep going to the little box under his dresser. After one too many times glancing at the box and then at the ceiling, Buck huffs and moves over to grab it. 
Buck sits down heavily on the bed and carefully opens the box. As soon as he sees the content, his stomach twists and he starts to get teary-eyed. He hadn’t planned to have a box, it sort of just happened. It started when Buck returned home from their coffee date and found the receipt for their coffee in his wallet. It had been an impulsive decision to save it instead of throwing it away. Soon after that, Buck started to keep other things: like the ticket for the first movie they saw together, the coaster of one of the bars they went to, a copy of the recipe of the first dish they cooked together, etc. 
After the break-up, Buck added to the box the pictures he had of both of them and the ticket for the Lakers game. He grabs it and turns it around, this way and that way. Eddie told him that Tommy didn’t want to accept the other ticket back and that he had tried to convince Eddie to go with Buck. In the end, he kept it but implied that he wasn’t going to go. 
Looking down at his watch, Buck realizes that he still has time to make it. He contemplates it for a couple of minutes and then he thinks fuck it and decides to go. 
“Hi, excuse me, sorry, sorry, excuse me,” Buck says as he shimmies through the seats. 
Once he finally reaches his empty seat, he looks up and freezes. 
“Tommy,” Buck breathes out, feeling as if his heart is about to explode from his chest. 
“Ev- Buck,” Tommy says, just as surprised. 
They don’t move, they just stay there standing, looking at each other like a deer caught in the headlights. 
“Fucking sit down, what the hell are you guys doing?” A man sitting in the row above yells at them. 
They both mumble their apologies and sit down, with their backs ramrod straight, and looking ahead. 
 “I’m sorry, I will go,” Tommy says after a while of awkward silence. “Eddie told me you weren’t going to come so I just decided at the last minute to come and.. Anyway, I will go.”
“No,” Buck says loudly, grabbing onto Tommy’s arm. 
Buck looks at his hand and exhales shakily. He swears he felt a shiver running through his spine as soon as he touched Tommy. His hands, his body, all of him has missed him terribly. 
“Sorry,” Buck lets go of the arm, even though it pains him to do so. “Stay, you don’t have to go. The game is about to start, just, please stay.” 
Tommy searches Buck’s face and, after a few agonizing seconds, he nods and sits more comfortably. 
Sighing in relief, Buck turns back to the court and tries to reassure himself that this is ok. Everything will be fine. Just two exes, sitting next to each other, watching a basketball game…
If you were to ask Buck how the game is going, what the score is, who is winning, and which player was the best at the moment, he would be unable to answer. He has no idea what has been happening, all he knows is that even though they are not touching, he can feel Tommy’s arm and leg right next to his. 
Even though he is surrounded by the smell of popcorn, hot dogs, and many other things, Buck swears that the only thing he can smell is Tommy’s oud cologne. All he wants to do is  turn to Tommy and nuzzle his face against his neck to be able to breathe in that smell. He has missed that smell terribly, his pillows and sheets had long ago lost any traces of it. 
Suddenly, he hears Tommy mutter, “Oh, shit.” 
Buck looks over quickly, fearing that Tommy is feeling ill or that something bad happened, but he sees him looking up at something. Following his gaze, he finds that they are on the stadium screens. The Kiss Cam has chosen them. 
Glancing back at Tommy, they make eye contact but make no other move. People around him cheer and yell at them to just do it. 
This might be the last time I get to feel his lips again… the last time I kiss him , Buck thinks. 
It is that thought that makes him shrug his shoulders sheepishly at Tommy, as if saying, “I’m down if you are.” 
Tommy glances at Buck’s lips and nods. They both lean in at the same time and when their lips touch, Buck feels as if he’s coming home. Kissing Tommy again is like getting a breath of fresh air. 
It isn’t until he hears someone yelling to get a room that Buck pulls away reluctantly. Tommy has his eyes closed and his mouth is still open a little bit. Buck wants to lean in and kiss him again. 
Once Tommy opens his eyes, Buck sees that there are tears in them. 
“I’m sorry… I’m sorry. I- I need to go,” Tommy says in a choked-up voice. 
Buck stays still, watching as, once again, Tommy walks away from him, from his life, from them. 
“Not again,” Buck says under his breath. 
Determined, he stands up and starts to follow him. 
“Sorry, sorry, excuse me.”
“You go get him, honey,” A woman sitting in the row above winks at him. 
Blushing, Buck nods and replies, “Thanks! I will!”
Once he is out of the stands, Buck starts to run, wanting to catch up to Tommy. As he reaches the part of the facilities where the concession stands and bathrooms are, he runs straight into someone. 
“Fuck!” Tommy says.
“Ouch!” “Buck replies. 
They look at each other and laugh awkwardly.
“Why were you returning? Did you forget something?” Buck asks, suddenly nervous and forgetting everything he wants to say to him. 
“Yeah, yeah, I forgot something,” Tommy tells him before pulling Buck close and kissing him even more passionately than before. 
After breaking the kiss, Tommy says breathlessly, “I’m sorry for running away… both times. I just got so scared about my feelings for you, and your feelings for me, and how you can so easily break me into pieces.” 
“I’m sorry too!” Buck tells him while cupping Tommy’s cheek. “I should have fought for you, I should have gone after you.” 
“No, no,” Tommy shakes his head vehemently. “I walked away so I was the one who had to return to you.”
Buck kisses him again, a short, sweet and tender kiss.
“I’m trying to be better, Evan. I’m going to work on not letting fear control me because I- I, well… I love you.”
Smiling brightly and feeling as if everything is right in the world, Buck replies, “I love you too… just as you are. And I will be there for you, and I will help you to not run away again when you get scared, ok?”
“Ok… god, I love you so much,” Tommy says, chuckling. 
“I love you too,” Buck replies again while kissing Tommy’s nose, cheeks, and mouth. 
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emchante · 2 days ago
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OH another idea: cooking stream w max 😉 he’s wearing an apron with smt like “kiss the cook” but shirtless underneath, accidentally smearing sauce on his fingers and licking them clean, turning around to grab something from the cupboard and just showing off his back.. god i can go on and on about this
kiss the cock cook | m. verstappen
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warnings: 18+/suggestive — minors dni.
DIIII OH MY GOD. you’re such a genius, your brain works in magical ways and i want to have it myself!!! the first post for this series went down well, so here you all go!!<3<3
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one of the first few softcore porn streamer! max streams catch is a cooking stream. you know what his channel is now, after your first endeavour. you shouldn’t be surprised at what you see on the screen.
yet, you still are.
as soon as the ads finish rolling, the stream pops up on the screen. max is shirtless, under a dark apron. ‘kiss the cock’ is what’s written on it, but cock is scribbled off with a messy ‘cook’ above it. the apron allowed part of his soft chest to be on display. your eyes trailed down to see the apron wrapping around his soft hips perfectly, as the knot at the back held the apron together as tight as possible.
the camera angle was perfect— allowing you to see most of his top half, while leaving the rest to your imagination.
max knew his audience well, so he had an extra camera set up in the kitchen. it was a birds-eye view camera, a little box in the top right corner of the stream that was titled ‘hand cam’, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why it was there.
he was glancing at the chat as he put the ingredients for his cake in the large bowl. he smirked at some of the comments. “yes, i’m shirtless. no, i’m not trying to seduce you. my kitchen is hot, okay?” he tells the stream, acting innocent. if you really couldn’t tell though, the wink he gave the camera afterwards sold it.
he pondered for a moment before grabbing the camera above him, and moving it on the counter next to his bowl. “much better,” he muttered, before spreading his large hand across the bowl, as if to secure it. his other hand had an electric whisk, and he began to mix the ingredients together.
as he whisked, he glanced to the chat to see their reaction. he licked his lips before smirking, reading the comments as they came through. “i need him carnally.. this should be illegal..” he reads some, causing the influx of comments to worsen as they all try to be noticed by him. “max please.. please what, dear viewer? i need you to use your words for me,” he purrs, looking innocently into the camera.
the look he gives the camera sends a heat in your stomach. your thighs instinctively squeeze together at the sight, and your thoughts start racing. imagining him looking up at you like that, as you place yourself on his thighs. hands on his soft chest, pushing him down and telling him to use his words, finally switching the roles for once. how he’d deliciously beg and plead for you to—
fuck. what were you doing? you should not have been captivated so fast by him, but yet..
“anyways, i think that should be it mixed now,” max interrupts your internal conflict with his own words, turning off the whisk. he reaches out of from, and brings back another bowl. he tilts them both towards the camera to show the contents— cake batter in one, and thin icing in the other.
he eyes chat momentarily, smiling when the influx of ‘taste it!’ messages come flooding in. “you’re right, you’re right! i should taste it. how would i know if i liked what i made so far otherwise?” he questions, his index finger reaching into the first bowl.
he takes a scoop of the cake batter that looks entirely too appealing when it’s smeared along max’s finger. he slowly sucks it clean, pouty lips smacking gently when they touch again. his eyes flutter shut as a soft moan escapes from max, head tilting back.
“that is so fucking good, if only you guys could taste it,” he mumbles, licking any of the excess off of his lips as he reads the chat.
the heat in your belly was growing, the way he looked and the sounds he let out were amazing, and you needed more. you hadn’t chatted much in max’s chat, sending a few messages here and there. but tonight, you felt different. you needed more, and you were going to get it.
swallowing thickly you moved your hands to your keyboard, thinking about what you should type. your eyes scanned the screen.. and bingo. you knew what to do.
‘well you tried the batter, but what about the icing? just to be sure’
max is still reading over the chat when you send your message, and your heart skips a beat when you see his eyes widen. he stands up straight, looking into the camera with a small smirk.
“that’s a great idea, actually,” he praises, adding your username onto the end before he pulls the bowl of icing closer to him.
the icing was thin and white, from what you had seen when he showed the cameras. you watched as he plunged his index and middle finger into the bowl, pushing them right in before pulling them back out. the gooey icing dripped from the tip of his fingers, and had coated a thin layer over the rest of it.
he lifted his fingers to his mouth, stretching them to a ‘v’ shape as he licked through the middle of them. your cheeks flushed at the innuendo, and his chat clearly felt affected by it too judging by the spam. afterwards, he stared deep into the camera before pushing his fingers together, running his tongue along them in stripes to lick them clean.
his hand fell back to the counter as he swallowed thickly, before a low groan came from his throat. “fuck— that icing is amazing,” he starts, head lightly tilting back. “it’s perfectly sweet,” he adds, licking his lips clean as he reads the chat.
your heart was still racing at the look he was giving the camera, as well as the fact he had done as your message had said. your luck on his streams was unbelievable.. maybe you should start chatting more.
after that, max had went back to preparing the cupcakes in their cases that were sat in the tray. you had zoned out admittedly, not from the stream itself, just.. the baking aspect. you were more so focused on his large arms, watching them flex as he consistently moved around. your eyes were also glued to his chest, especially when he leaned over to read something from the book. the apron hung low as he did so, giving you a deeper look into his soft chest.
it didn’t take long for your attention to be peaked again, as max clapped his hands together, stating he was getting them ready for the oven.
“so, i have already preheated the oven,” he began to explain as he leaned over to his computer, messing about on obs. he stopped talking as he fixed what he needed to, and the next minute the main camera angle had switched— now, instead of the camera on the tripod, the main camera was the one on the counter initially used as the hand cam. now though, it was sat so it faced the right side of the kitchen, which included the oven.
“so no need to wait for that,” he finally finished, looking into the camera and giving it a smile before he stood up straight, grabbing the tray. he turned around and walked towards the oven slowly, as if he knew what he was doing.
max’s chat— and your internal thoughts— went back to their thirsting ways as max’s defined, toned back was on display. the comments honestly could’ve came from your mind, as they were along the same lines. ‘i need to scratch down his back’, ‘that back is looking a little bare.. let me fix that’, just to name a couple.
max stopped in his tracks, doing a 180 and walking back towards the counter. “oops, i forgot how long to put them in for,” he muttered, a small smile on his face that gave away his lies. it was obvious what he was doing, he simply just wanted to see the thirsty reactions. and god, did he get them.
“glad you’re all enjoying the view today,” he speaks up, turning back towards the oven and walking towards it, giving the fans what they wanted. then, he bent down towards the oven, giving the camera a perfect view of his curvy ass as he placed the tray in the oven. as he pulled the oven door back down, he pushed himself out further as a tease for the camera, before standing up straight again.
“it’s free today, you know,” he continues, referring to his last comment about the view. “but tomorrow? who knows,” he sighs, eyes scanning his chat as they burst into desperate pleads for him to keep slutting himself out for free.
max had decided to cut the stream off for a break while the cupcakes baked in the oven. he leaned against the counter, arms in front of him causing his chest to push together and you couldn’t keep your eyes off it.
“i’ll be back later, don’t you worry about that,” he reassures any worrying viewers with a wink. “thank you for joining, everyone. i’d say don’t forget to kiss the cook— but none of you can,” he pouted, before blowing you a kiss. “least you could do is send me a sub,” he adds cheekily, standing up straight. he begins to untie the knot from the back of the apron, causing the apron’s strings to drop to the side.
your eyes widened as he began to slowly lift the apron off of himself, allowing the viewers to see his soft body on display. his chat went crazy— from comments about grabbing his love handles, to marking his chest, to wanting to explore that happy trail— everyone enjoyed the view.
conveniently the countertop covered his boxers, therefore nobody could see there or below.
“i’ll be back later for you all, hopefully ready to show my cupcakes,” he smiles, reading the chat one last time.
‘what about your cake, max?’ is the last message he reads, causing him to burst out laughing.
“if we reach the big sub goal, maybe something can be arranged,” he teases, before the stream abruptly cuts off.
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⋆˙⟡ enjoy this? i hope you did! please come chat to me about it in my ask box! publicly or on anon— i’ll answer everything <3
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moonselune · 2 days ago
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Hi! Could I request something? I just saw you accept new request again! I was thinking of yearning. Them yearning for oblivious tav.
I just love a good old yearning prompt
yesssssss the yearning the pining the dramaaa
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.�� .* :☆゚. ───
Karlach:
Karlach was trying her best to keep it together. As she sat by the campfire, her eyes kept drifting toward you, her massive frame leaning slightly forward as if she could somehow close the gap between you just by willing it. You were tending to a few weapons you’d scavenged earlier in the day, completely oblivious to the way her molten eyes lingered on you, the way her hands fidgeted with a piece of stray leather to distract herself from the ache in her chest.
Wyll, sitting nearby with a mischievous grin, had noticed. Of course, he had noticed. The Blade of Frontiers had a knack for picking up on unspoken emotions, and Karlach was as subtle as a roaring forge.
“You know,” Wyll began, his voice low and teasing as he leaned toward Karlach, “if you keep staring at them like that, you’re liable to set the poor one on fire.”
Karlach froze, her cheeks flushing as embers flickered to life along her horns.
“What?” she whispered sharply, her voice cracking. “I wasn’t staring! I was just—”
“Yearning?” Wyll supplied with a grin, leaning back casually.
“I don’t yearn,” Karlach snapped, though her voice lacked conviction.
“Oh, come now,” Wyll said, his tone smug. “The sighing, the pining, the tragic glances when he’s not looking—it’s downright poetic.” He tapped his chin theatrically. “It’s almost enough to compose a ballad.”
Karlach shot him a glare, her flames flaring slightly around her shoulders. “Wyll, I swear, if you don’t shut it—”
But it was too late. Her embarrassment sent her infernal engine into overdrive, and the flames on her body surged. The sudden flare caught your attention, and you glanced up from your work.
“Karlach?” you called out, your voice filled with concern as you stood and crossed the campfire toward her. “Are you okay?”
The sheer earnestness in your tone made her heart lurch painfully in her chest. She quickly tried to wave you off, her hands fanning at her shoulders as if she could dampen the flames.
“It’s nothing! Just—hot, you know?” she stammered.
“Well, yeah, you’re always hot,” you said, grabbing a nearby waterskin. “But this seems worse than usual.”
Karlach froze, her eyes going wide at your words. Did you—did you just call her hot? Surely, you didn’t mean it like that, right?
“Here, let me help,” you said, uncapping the waterskin.
“No, no, really, I’m fine—”
Too late. You doused her with a splash of water, and instead of calming her flames, it only made things worse. The steam hissed around her, mingling with her rising panic, and her flames flared even brighter.
“Gods, I’m sorry!” you exclaimed, looking horrified. “Did that make it worse?”
Karlach buried her face in her hands, groaning loudly. “No, no, it’s fine, just—don’t worry about it.”
Wyll, watching the scene unfold, laughed openly now. “You’re really outdoing yourself, Karlach. I think the entire camp will see those flames soon.”
You shot Wyll a confused look. “What’s he talking about?”
Karlach peeked through her fingers, her flames dimming slightly as her mortification reached its peak.
“Nothing! He’s just… being a prat,” she said quickly, glaring at Wyll, who only grinned wider.
“I’d call it encouragement,” Wyll said lightly. “After all, someone here needs to take a hint.”
You blinked at him, clearly puzzled, but before you could ask what he meant, Karlach stood abruptly, the ground under her feet crunching as her weight shifted.
“I’m gonna, uh, go check on—anything else,” she muttered, stomping off toward the edge of camp.
You watched her go, bewildered, before turning back to Wyll. “Did I do something wrong?”
Wyll chuckled, shaking his head. “Not wrong, no. Just oblivious. Don’t worry—you’ll figure it out eventually. Maybe.”
You frowned, glancing back toward where Karlach had disappeared into the shadows, her flames still faintly flickering in the distance. You didn’t know what you’d missed, but something about the way she’d looked at you before she left lingered in your mind, warm and unexplained.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Minthara:
The campfire crackled gently, casting a warm glow across the assembled group. You sat on a log, sharpening your blade, blissfully unaware of the undercurrents running through the evening.
Minthara, sitting a few paces away, had her sharp red eyes trained on you, a faint furrow in her brow. Her usual composed demeanor was slightly off tonight—her movements a touch too deliberate, her glances toward you lingering just a second too long.
Shadowheart, one of the resident camp gossips, noticed. She always did.
“Why don’t you just say something, Minthara?” Shadowheart drawled lazily, her lips curling into a smirk as she toyed with a loose strand of her hair. “It’s not as though subtlety is your strong suit. Or theirs, for that matter.”
Minthara’s sharp gaze snapped toward her, irritation flashing across her face.
“I do not need your advice, cleric,” she said coolly.
“Oh, I think you do,” Shadowheart said, undeterred. “Because whatever it is you’ve been doing clearly isn’t working. They haven’t even noticed.” She tilted her head toward you, who were now carefully oiling your weapon, oblivious to the tension building around you.
Minthara’s grip on her dagger tightened, her knuckles turning white. “They have other matters to attend to. The fault lies not with my approach but their… distraction.”
Shadowheart chuckled. “Distraction? They’re so dense they probably think the moonrise is flirting with them. You’ll have to carve it into the side of their tent before they catch on.”
That was the last straw. Minthara stood abruptly, her dark cloak billowing behind her as she marched across the campsite toward you.
“Minthara?” you said, startled as her shadow fell over you.
Before you could say another word, she grabbed you by the front of your tunic and pulled you to your feet with a surprising amount of force. Her crimson eyes burned with frustration and something else you couldn’t quite place.
“You,” she snapped, her voice ringing out across the camp, “are impossibly blind.”
“W-what?” you stammered, your mind racing to figure out what you’d done wrong this time.
“I have fought by your side,” she began, her voice rising. “I have trusted you, protected you, respected you. I have given you every sign imaginable, and yet you remain oblivious to the fact that I—” She stopped abruptly, taking a deep breath, as if even saying the words aloud were a battle she needed to win. “That I desire you, you fool!”
The camp went silent. Even the fire seemed to crackle a little softer as everyone turned to stare.
You blinked, utterly dumbfounded. “You… you desire me?”
Minthara groaned, her head tipping back in exasperation before she fixed you with an incredulous look. “Yes! Must I spell it out further? Or perhaps I should inscribe it on your blade since that seems to be where your attention is always focused!”
Shadowheart, who had been watching the entire exchange with barely suppressed laughter, finally burst out into an uncontrollable giggle.
“Oh, gods, this is better than I could’ve hoped,” she said, wiping a tear from her eye.
Minthara turned her glare on her, her lips curling in irritation. “If you say one more word, Shadowheart, I will—”
“Okay, okay,” you interrupted, holding up your hands. “Everyone calm down.” You turned back to Minthara, your voice softening. “I’m sorry if I missed the signs, Minthara. I honestly didn’t realize.”
Her anger seemed to waver, replaced by a flicker of vulnerability.
“How could you not?” she asked, almost to herself. You hesitated, then placed a tentative hand on hers, still gripping your tunic.
“Because I’m an idiot,” you admitted, a small smile tugging at your lips. “But I’m an idiot who’s honored and… maybe a little thrilled by what you just said.”
For the first time that evening, Minthara seemed at a loss for words. Her lips parted slightly, her sharp demeanor softening as she searched your face.
“Thrilled, you say?” she murmured, the barest hint of a smirk returning.
“Thrilled,” you confirmed, your cheeks warming under her intense gaze.
The tension in the air shifted, no longer charged with frustration but with something warmer, something promising. Minthara released your tunic, smoothing it out almost absently. “Then perhaps next time, you won’t require such… dramatic measures to understand me.”
Shadowheart made a kissy noise behind you, and you shot her a glare over your shoulder. Minthara, however, ignored her entirely, her focus solely on you.
“Now,” she said, her voice back to its usual measured tone. “Shall we continue this conversation somewhere with fewer interruptions?”
You nodded, feeling a grin spread across your face. “Lead the way.”
As you walked off together, Shadowheart’s laughter echoed behind you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. For once, the fog of obliviousness had lifted, and you were exactly where you wanted to be—at Minthara’s side.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Lae'zel:
Lae’zel had always been a force of nature—her sharp tongue, battle-hardened demeanor, and unyielding confidence left no room for doubt. And that’s exactly how she preferred it. To anyone observing her, she was the epitome of githyanki discipline and control. But deep down, behind the steel exterior and fiery eyes, she was at war with herself.
She had a massive, undeniable crush on you.
It was maddening. Every time you smiled at her or even so much as glanced her way, her heart would race—a sensation she would have sworn was impossible for her kind. She had tried everything to make her interest known: sparring sessions where she pushed you to your limits (and a bit beyond), blunt declarations of your 'adequacy' in her eyes, and even offers to 'crush your enemies together in glorious combat'. But somehow, none of it seemed to land.
Instead, you remained oblivious, flashing her that infuriatingly kind smile and treating her like a valued ally rather than someone she desperately wanted to claim as her partner.
One day, during a training session, Lae’zel’s frustration reached its peak. She had you pinned beneath her, her blade at your throat, and instead of fear or admiration, you chuckled.
“Nice move,” you said, your grin wide. “I’ll have to remember that one.”
She grit her teeth and growled, pressing the blade a little closer—not enough to hurt, but enough to make her point.
“You do not take me seriously!” she snapped.
You raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about? You’re one of the most serious people I know.”
“Not in battle, fool!” she snarled, pulling back and stalking away, her blade sheathed with a sharp clang, as you walked bewilderdly back to your tent.
From a short distance, Halsin, who had been watching the training with an amused glint in his eye, stepped forward to intercept Lae’zel. She stopped abruptly, glaring at the druid as if daring him to speak.
“Lae’zel,” Halsin said in his calm, measured tone, “may I offer you some advice?”
Her eyes narrowed. “You may offer. I will decide whether it is worth hearing.”
He chuckled, unfazed. “I’ve noticed your… interest in our leader.”
Her nostrils flared, and she crossed her arms. “And what of it?”
“You are a warrior, and I admire your strength,” Halsin began, “but perhaps your methods of courtship are… misplaced.”
“What nonsense is this?” she scoffed. “I have made my intentions clear. I have praised their competence. I have challenged them in combat. What more is required?”
Halsin smiled gently. “Perhaps a softer touch. Words that reveal your feelings without the shield of aggression. A gesture that shows your care rather than your strength.”
Lae’zel looked utterly baffled, as if he had just suggested she surrender to a mind flayer.
“Softness is weakness,” she spat.
“Not always,” Halsin countered. “Sometimes, it takes more strength to be vulnerable than to wield a sword.”
She opened her mouth to retort but found herself at a loss. Instead, she grumbled something unintelligible and stalked off, leaving Halsin shaking his head with a knowing smile.
The next morning, Lae’zel approached you at camp. There was an uncharacteristic stiffness to her posture, as if she were preparing for battle, yet her hands were empty.
“Leader,” she began, her voice clipped but quieter than usual.
You looked up from your map, offering her that same smile that never failed to undo her. “What’s up, Lae’zel?”
She hesitated, the words catching in her throat. For a moment, she considered abandoning this foolishness and returning to her usual methods. But Halsin’s advice echoed in her mind, and she forced herself to continue.
“I… value your presence,” she said, the words sounding foreign and awkward.
Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Uh, thanks? I value yours too.”
“No, you do not understand,” she snapped, then took a deep breath to steady herself. “I… value you. Your strength. Your wit. Your… idiotic charm.”
Your confusion deepened. “Lae’zel, are you feeling okay?”
She growled in frustration, her hand twitching toward her sword out of habit before she forced it to her side. “Do I need to spell it out for you, fool?”
“Apparently,” you said, still clueless but clearly trying to follow.
She stepped closer, her amber eyes burning into yours. “I desire you, leader. As my equal. My partner. My… lover.”
The words hung in the air, and for the first time, you saw Lae’zel in a new light—not just as a fierce warrior, but as someone deeply passionate and utterly vulnerable in this moment.
“Oh,” you said, the realization dawning on you. “Oh.”
Her jaw tightened, and she crossed her arms defensively. “If you find this amusing, I will—”
“I don’t,” you interrupted, a small smile playing at your lips. “I just didn’t think—well, I didn’t know.”
“Because you are blind,” she muttered, though there was no real venom in her tone.
You stepped closer, reaching out tentatively. “Lae’zel, I’m flattered. Truly. And… I’d like to see where this goes.”
Her eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, she looked as though she didn’t quite believe you. Then, with a sharp nod, she straightened her back and let a rare, genuine smile grace her lips.
“Good,” she said simply. “Now, let us prepare for the day. We have enemies to slay, and I will not let them distract you from what is ours.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, warmth blooming in your chest. Lae’zel might not have mastered the art of softness, but in her own way, she was perfect.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Shadowheart:
Shadowheart had always been composed, her expression a careful mask of neutrality, but recently, every time she caught sight of you, her calm façade wavered. Her chest tightened, her thoughts scattered, and her usually sharp words became softer, laced with an uncharacteristic warmth. She knew the truth of it: she had fallen for you. Hard.
And yet, despite her every effort to show you her feelings, you remained utterly oblivious.
At breakfast that morning, Shadowheart decided to take another approach. She brushed past you as you prepared the fire, the faint scent of lavender trailing in her wake.
“Good morning,” she said, her voice soft but laced with what she thought was a hint of allure.
You looked up, smiling warmly. “Morning, Shadowheart. Did you sleep well?”
She nodded, sitting beside you with deliberate closeness. “As well as I could, knowing what awaits us each day. And you?”
“Fine, thanks. Just trying to get this fire going,” you replied, your focus returning to the task at hand.
She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a murmur. “You’re very skilled with your hands. It’s… admirable.”
You blinked at her, utterly missing the meaning behind her words. “Thanks! I guess all those years of camping have paid off.”
Her shoulders slumped ever so slightly, but she refused to give up. Throughout the morning, she found small ways to stay near you, brushing her fingers against yours when you handed her something, complimenting you with what she thought was a sultry tone, and even laughing at your jokes—some of which, she had to admit, were terrible.
Still, you seemed completely unaware.
By midday, Shadowheart was frustrated beyond measure. She found Karlach near the edge of camp, inspecting her weapons, and stormed over.
“Karlach,” she said, her tone clipped but tinged with exasperation.
Karlach looked up, her fiery heart pulsing warmly. “What’s up, Shads?”
"Please don't call me that," Shadowheart crossed her arms, her frustration bubbling over. “I don’t know what to do. I’ve been dropping hints—no, practically throwing myself at them, and they just… don’t notice!”
Karlach blinked, then grinned, clearly enjoying the situation more than she should. “Wait, you’re talking about—?”
“Yes,” Shadowheart snapped, her cheeks tinged with pink.
Karlach let out a hearty laugh, her flames flickering slightly brighter. “Oh, this is rich. You? Pining? I never thought I’d see the day.”
Shadowheart glared at her. “This is not amusing. I need advice, not mockery.”
Karlach wiped a tear from her eye, still chuckling. “Alright, alright. Let me think. So, you’ve been… what, flirting?”
“I’ve tried everything,” Shadowheart admitted, throwing her hands in the air. “Compliments, proximity, even subtle touches. And nothing! They treat me the same as everyone else.”
Karlach hummed, tapping a clawed finger against her chin. “Maybe they’re just really dense. Or, y’know, not used to someone as… uh, mysterious as you.”
Shadowheart raised an eyebrow. “And what do you suggest I do? Write it out in blood on their tent?”
Karlach snorted. “Hey, that might actually work. But no, maybe you need to be more direct. Like, ‘Hey, I think you’re cute, let’s share a bedroll tonight.’”
Shadowheart stared at her, aghast. “I am not saying that.”
“Your loss,” Karlach said with a shrug. “But seriously, just talk to them. Be honest. I bet they’d love it.”
Shadowheart sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Honesty. Of course. The one thing I’ve been avoiding.”
“Hey, they like you for you,” Karlach said, clapping her on the shoulder. “Well, they would if they had half a brain and knew what was good for them. Go get ’em, tiger.”
Later that evening, as you sat by the campfire, Shadowheart approached you with purposeful strides. She was determined to take Karlach’s advice, even if it made her heart pound and her palms sweat.
“Can I join you?” she asked, her voice steady despite the storm inside her.
“Of course,” you said, shifting to make room for her.
She hesitated for a moment, then sat beside you, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
You turned to her, your expression curious but kind. “What is it?”
Shadowheart opened her mouth to speak, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, she let out a shaky breath and looked into the fire.
“I… I care about you,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.
You smiled, completely misunderstanding. “I care about you too, Shadowheart. You’re a great friend.”
She groaned inwardly, pinching the bridge of her nose. “No, I mean I care about you in a… different way.”
Realization dawned on your face, your eyes widening. “Oh.”
“Oh?” she echoed, feeling both vulnerable and absurdly exposed.
“I didn’t—Shadowheart, I had no idea,” you said, your voice filled with genuine surprise and warmth.
“I noticed,” she muttered, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips despite herself.
You reached out, gently placing a hand on hers. “I’m sorry if I’ve been clueless. I guess I just… never thought someone like you would feel that way about someone like me.”
She looked at you, her expression softening. “And why wouldn’t I? You’re… remarkable.”
The sincerity in her voice made your heart skip a beat, and you couldn’t help but smile. “Well, I guess that makes two of us, then.”
Her eyes widened slightly. “You… feel the same?”
“Yeah,” you said, your cheeks flushing. “I guess I was just waiting for a sign.”
Shadowheart laughed softly, the sound lighter than you’d ever heard from her. “Apparently, I need to be less subtle.”
As the fire crackled between you, the tension that had been simmering for so long finally gave way to something warmer, something real. And for the first time in weeks, Shadowheart felt at peace.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Jaheira:
Jaheira was not a woman who pined. Or so she told herself. A High Harper, disciplined and pragmatic, she had weathered countless battles and heartbreaks. Yet, here she was, sneaking glances at you across camp, her chest tightening whenever you smiled or laughed. It was maddening. How had you managed to worm your way so deeply into her thoughts?
Despite her years of wisdom, Jaheira found herself at a loss. She didn’t know how to bridge the gap between the two of you, not without risking her pride or the delicate balance of your group.
The worst part was your complete and utter obliviousness. She’d tried subtlety—lingering conversations, offering you extra help with tactics, even sharing stories of her youth that she told no one else. You simply smiled warmly, thanked her, and went about your day as though her heart hadn’t been laid bare in every word.
One evening, after another frustrating day of yearning and getting nowhere, Astarion finally had enough.
“Jaheira, darling, may I have a word?” Astarion said, sidling up to her as she sharpened her blade near the fire.
“What do you want, Astarion?” she asked, her tone brusque.
He smirked, clearly unbothered by her irritation. “Oh, nothing much. Just to offer my… expert services in matters of the heart.”
Jaheira blinked, her sharpening stone pausing mid-stroke. “What are you talking about?”
Astarion gestured dramatically toward you, where you sat chatting animatedly with Karlach. “I’m talking about your obvious pining for our dear leader. It’s positively tragic to watch.”
Jaheira’s cheeks flushed, and she quickly turned back to her blade. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Oh, please,” Astarion said, rolling his eyes. “You practically glow whenever they’re around. It’s adorable, really. But I must say, your approach could use some… finesse.”
Jaheira scowled at him. “I am not some lovesick fool, and I certainly don’t need advice from a vampire with more charm than sense.”
“Perhaps not,” Astarion said, unfazed. “But consider this: have your current tactics worked? Have they so much as noticed your affection?”
Jaheira’s silence was answer enough.
“I thought so,” Astarion said smugly. “Now, listen closely. You need to be bold. Direct. Use your natural charisma and authority to your advantage. And if all else fails, a little flirtation never hurt anyone.”
Jaheira narrowed her eyes. “I am not a charlatan like you, Astarion. I won’t lower myself to cheap tricks.”
“Who said anything about cheap tricks?” Astarion replied, feigning offense. “Think of it as… a strategic maneuver. After all, you wouldn’t hesitate to outwit an enemy in battle, would you?”
Jaheira sighed, considering his words. As much as she hated to admit it, he wasn’t entirely wrong. “Fine. I’ll listen. But if this backfires, I’ll hold you personally responsible.”
“Splendid,” Astarion said, clapping his hands together. “Now, let’s start with a little more confidence in your approach…”
The next morning, you noticed something strange about Jaheira. She was… different.
She approached you with a faint smile that seemed just a touch too practiced, her movements deliberate and graceful in a way that reminded you of someone else.
“Good morning,” she said, her voice smooth and measured. “Did you sleep well?”
You blinked, caught off guard. “Uh, yeah. I did. And you?”
“Perfectly,” she replied, her eyes lingering on you in a way that felt… odd. “Though I couldn’t help but think of our conversation from yesterday. You truly have a fascinating mind.”
You tilted your head, trying to piece together what was happening. Something about her tone, her body language—it was familiar. And then it hit you.
“Wait a minute,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “Why are you acting like Astarion?”
Jaheira froze, her carefully crafted façade slipping for just a moment. “I… what?”
“You’re doing the thing he does,” you said, mimicking a dramatic hand gesture. “The suave, overly charming thing. It’s not like you.”
Jaheira’s cheeks flushed, and she quickly turned away, muttering something under her breath.
From across camp, Astarion burst into laughter, doubling over as he clutched his stomach. “Oh, this is too good!”
Jaheira shot him a withering glare before turning back to you, her expression softening. “Perhaps I’ve been… trying too hard. Forgive me if I seemed unlike myself.”
You smiled, your warmth cutting through her frustration. “You don’t need to try so hard, Jaheira. I like you just as you are.”
Her breath caught, and for a moment, she didn’t know what to say. Then, with a small, genuine smile, she nodded. “Thank you. That means… more than you know.”
As she walked away, Astarion approached, still grinning. “Well, that could have gone better, but at least they noticed you.”
Jaheira shook her head, a wry smile tugging at her lips. “Never again, Astarion. Never again.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Gale:
The late afternoon sun hung low, painting the riverside in warm golds and soft shadows. Gale, waist-deep in the cool water, had his arms crossed in front of him as if the sheer act of holding himself together could quell the maelstrom of feelings raging inside. His crush on you was a storm that refused to abate, leaving him with sleepless nights and days filled with longing glances.
From the riverbank, Minthara watched him with a look of abject irritation. Minthara had ordered him to take a dip in the cold water after he had decided to unleash his love-filled ranting unto her ears as they collected water. She assured him she would be fine to take the water back by herself, and when he thought she had left he keenly stripped and waded into the water. But Minthara had not left, no, Gale's lovesick demeanor had created a vendetta against her and she decided to take action.
"Pathetic," she muttered under her breath. She didn’t think it was possible for wizards to get worse, but Gale was proving her wrong. With a smirk, she moved silently to where Gale had left his clothes folded neatly on a nearby rock. With the swift efficiency of a seasoned tactician, she gathered them up and strode back toward camp.
You were enjoying a moment of quiet when Minthara approached, holding a bundle of robes in her arms.
"The wizard is by the river," she said bluntly. "It seems he’s in need of assistance."
You frowned, glancing at the clothing. "Assistance? With what?"
Minthara’s lips quirked into a thin smile. "He appears… indisposed. Perhaps you should go and see for yourself."
Before you could ask more, she tossed the robes into the fire and strode away, leaving you thoroughly puzzled but intrigued. You could have sworn those were Gale's. With haste, you made your way towards the river and when you arrived at the riverbank, you called out, "Gale? Everything alright?"
Gale startled, his head whipping around to face you, his hair slicked back and glistening in the sunlight. Clearly he had been searching for his robes. "Ah, no! I mean, yes—yes, everything’s fine!"
You raised a brow, stepping closer to the water’s edge. "Are you sure? Minthara said you needed help."
At the mention of her name, Gale groaned. "Of course, she did. And I suppose she also absconded with my robes?" He shot a wary glance toward the shore, clearly trying to maintain some distance.
"Unfortunately so. What’s going on?" you asked, scanning the area. Then you noticed the way his face burned red, his expression a mix of embarrassment and frustration. "Why are you still in the water? It’s getting late. and the river's current is about to pick up, you need to get out, now."
He hesitated, his fingers flexing nervously beneath the water’s surface. "It’s… complicated."
"Complicated how?" You looked around, spotting no immediate danger apart from the increasing current. "Do you need a hand getting out? I can lend you my cloak."
"You don’t understand!" Gale blurted, his voice cracking slightly. "This isn’t about the cold—or the current. It’s…" He trailed off, visibly warring with himself.
You tilted your head, curious and slightly amused. "Then what is it about? You’re not exactly making it easy to help you."
Gale sighed deeply, sinking a little lower into the water until only his nose and eyes peeked out. Then, in a low, hurried tone, he confessed, "I’m afraid my feelings for you have… manifested in a rather inconvenient manner."
Your brow furrowed. "Feelings for me?"
"Yes!" Gale said, his voice growing more desperate. "Feelings. Strong feelings—romantic, longing, entirely improper feelings for someone as… exceptional as you."
You blinked, the weight of his words settling over you like the warmth of the setting sun. "You—wait. You like me?"
"Yes," he muttered, his face practically steaming despite the cool water. "Which is precisely why I can’t leave this river at the moment."
The realization dawned slowly, but when it clicked, a grin spread across your face. "Oh," you said, fighting back laughter. "Oh."
"Yes," Gale grumbled, his mortification complete. "You see now why this is problematic."
You couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped. "So, let me get this straight. You’re saying your feelings are… visible at the moment?"
Gale pinched the bridge of his nose. "If you insist on phrasing it that way, then yes."
You laughed harder, the sound bright and unrestrained. "Gale, that’s not the end of the world."
"Easy for you to say," he muttered. "You’re not the one at risk of a compromising exit."
Still laughing, you crouched by the water’s edge, your cloak in hand. "Come on. I promise I’ll look the other way. Just wrap this around your waist - tightly, and let’s get you back to camp."
Gale hesitated, clearly torn between his pride and the practicality of your offer. The river was rising, and the current becoming less forgiving. He didn't know what would be worse, coming out in this state or having to have you rescue him whilst he was in this condition. Finally, he sighed. "You’re infuriatingly kind, you know that?"
"Only to people I like," you teased, winking at him.
That earned you a small, genuine smile, despite his predicament. Slowly, cautiously, he edged closer to the shore, his blush never fading. You diligently kept your eyes closed, but there was that little devil inside you willing you to take a peak. He wrapped the cloak around his waist, only for you to hear a small, defeated sigh.
"You cannot laugh at me, but please may I request that I carry your shoes back to camp?" He asked, and you couldn't help but laugh.
"Wow you must really like me-"
"-The shoes please!"
Still giggling to yourself, you took off your shoes and passed them to him, allowing him to use them as a shield to his nether region.
You were finally able to look at him, his cheeks flushed beet red as he murmured, "I am going to kill Minthara, or at least try to."
"You know, Gale, I think Minthara might have done us both a favor."
Gale groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Never speak of this again. And especially do not encourage her behaviour."
"No promises," you said with a grin, walking beside him as you both headed back to camp. "Perhaps, I might want to get caught short with you."
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Astarion:
Astarion was not accustomed to being ignored, least of all by someone who had managed to captivate him so thoroughly. Yet here you were, brushing off his every flirtation, every lingering glance, every word dripping with a charm that could make others fall at his feet.
You were different, infuriatingly so. Every smirk, every sly compliment, every touch of his hand to your arm was met with a polite laugh, a nod, or—worse—a casual thanks before you moved on as though he hadn’t just thrown his best seductive lines at you.
For someone like Astarion, whose every move had been meticulously calculated for centuries, this was unbearable. He was practically seething with frustration as he watched you across the camp, laughing at something Karlach had said. He sighed dramatically, slumping onto a nearby log, the perfect picture of a man whose heart was in shambles.
It wasn’t that he didn’t understand why you might be cautious around him. He wasn’t blind to his own past or the scars it had left on his soul. But this? This obliviousness wasn’t caution—it was sheer ignorance of his very obvious yearning.
And so, out of options and desperately needing help, he did something he never thought he would: he sought out Gale.
Gale was sitting by the fire, absently flipping through his spellbook, when Astarion approached him. The vampire’s usual smirk was replaced with something that looked suspiciously like a grimace.
“Gale,” Astarion began, his voice unusually subdued.
Gale looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Astarion? To what do I owe this… peculiar honor?”
Astarion waved a hand dismissively. “Yes, yes, spare me the preamble. I need your help.”
“My help?” Gale blinked. “What kind of apocalyptic disaster requires my assistance? Surely not something involving a certain someone we both know?”
Astarion’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Yes. Them.”
Gale set his book down, his interest piqued. “Ah, I see. You’re pining.”
“I am not pining,” Astarion snapped, though the blush creeping up his pale cheeks betrayed him. “I am… strategically pursuing. Subtly, I might add.”
Gale snorted. “If by subtle, you mean utterly transparent, then yes. You’ve been as subtle as a fireball in a wheat field.”
Astarion scowled. “They don’t see it that way. They think I’m just… charming. Which, of course, I am, but there’s more to it than that.”
“And you want my advice?” Gale leaned back, crossing his arms. “Me, the man you’ve spent weeks mocking for my ‘tragic romanticism’?”
“Yes, yes, revel in the irony if you must,” Astarion said impatiently. “But you’re annoyingly good- most of the time, at all this grand gesture nonsense, and clearly, I need a new approach.”
Gale chuckled, a little too pleased with himself. “All right. Let’s see. The key here is sincerity. You can’t just charm your way through this one. You have to show them how you feel.”
Astarion frowned. “And how exactly do I do that?”
“Think of something meaningful to them,” Gale suggested. “An act that demonstrates you understand them, that you care about them deeply. And,” he added with a smirk, “maybe tone down the smirking and innuendo for five minutes.”
The next day, Astarion put Gale’s advice into action—or at least, his version of it. You were sitting by the riverbank, enjoying a rare moment of peace, when Astarion approached you, holding something behind his back.
“Ah, there you are,” he said, his tone softer than usual.
You smiled up at him. “What’s up, Astarion?”
“I, uh… I noticed something the other day.” He cleared his throat, looking uncharacteristically awkward. “You mentioned how much you missed those silly little biscuits from Baldur’s Gate, the ones with the sugar glaze.”
You blinked, caught off guard. “I did?”
“Yes, you did,” he said quickly. “And, well… here.” He produced a carefully wrapped package and handed it to you. Inside were a handful of the biscuits, slightly crumbled but still intact.
Your eyes widened. “How did you…?”
“Don’t ask questions,” he said, his smirk creeping back despite his best efforts. “Just enjoy them.”
You looked up at him, touched by the gesture but still utterly oblivious to the deeper meaning. “Thanks, Astarion. That’s really sweet of you.”
He stared at you for a moment, waiting for something—anything—to click. When it didn’t, he sighed dramatically and flopped onto the grass beside you.
“Are you truly this dense, my beautiful fool?” he muttered under his breath.
“Hm?”
“Nothing,” he said, flashing you a too-bright smile. “Enjoy your biscuits, darling.”
From a distance, Gale watched the exchange with a shake of his head, muttering, “Some people are beyond help.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Wyll:
Wyll was not used to being ignored, especially when it came to matters of the heart. He prided himself on his charm, his courtly manners, and his ability to woo with a single smile. Yet, when it came to you, all his gentlemanly gestures seemed to bounce right off you like a deflected blade.
He would offer you his hand to help you over rough terrain, only to receive a simple "Thanks, Wyll!" and a cheerful pat on his shoulder. He’d bring you breakfast, perfectly arranged, and you’d compliment him on his “team spirit.” He’d even tried a few subtler lines, but you always brushed them off as his natural charisma, as if his feelings weren’t entirely focused on you.
So, after one particularly frustrating evening where you didn’t even notice how his gaze lingered on you by the firelight, Wyll decided he needed help.
And who better to consult than the camp’s most direct and fearless member, Lae’zel?
Lae’zel was sharpening her sword when Wyll approached, his usual confident demeanor slightly crumpled under the weight of his unspoken affection. She glanced up, her sharp eyes narrowing.
“Wyll,” she said bluntly, “you look as though you’ve swallowed a blade sideways. Spit it out.”
He cleared his throat, glancing around to make sure no one else was in earshot. “It’s about… them,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
Lae’zel’s expression didn’t change. “Ah, the object of your obsession.”
Wyll winced. “It’s not an obsession.”
“Call it what you will,” she said, shrugging. “You pine for them like a fledgling seeking a mate. What of it?”
“I don’t know how to… tell them,” Wyll confessed, his usual eloquence failing him. “They seem entirely immune to my advances.”
Lae’zel snorted. “Perhaps because your ‘advances’ are weak. Soft. You dote on them like a mother hen, not a warrior. If you want their attention, you must assert dominance.”
“Assert dominance?” Wyll repeated, looking increasingly alarmed.
“Yes,” Lae’zel said firmly. “Challenge them. Best them in combat. Show them your strength. Then, when they are weak and trembling, you proclaim your intent to claim them as yours.”
Wyll’s face turned scarlet. “That’s—That’s not how courtship works!”
“Of course it is,” Lae’zel said, waving a dismissive hand. “You prove your physical and sexual prowess through battle. What better way to ensure compatibility?”
Wyll sputtered, his composure unraveling. “I—I don’t think they’d appreciate being ‘claimed’ like a prize after a fight.”
“They would respect it,” Lae’zel insisted. “And likely find it arousing.”
“Lae’zel!” Wyll’s voice cracked, and he buried his face in his hands, his flames of embarrassment rivaling Karlach’s.
From across the camp, you noticed the commotion and Wyll’s obvious distress. Concerned, you got up and made your way over. “Wyll? Are you okay?”
Lae’zel’s smirk widened as Wyll’s blush deepened. He scrambled to his feet, fumbling for words. “Ah—Yes! Fine! Everything is fine!”
You raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two of them. “Are you sure? You look like you’ve just lost a sparring match.”
Before Lae’zel could open her mouth to make things infinitely worse, Wyll quickly grabbed your hand and pulled you aside.
“Just a minor… disagreement,” he said quickly, his voice cracking again. “Nothing to worry about.”
You gave him a curious look, but his obvious flustered state distracted you from pressing further. “Okay, if you’re sure.”
Lae’zel watched you go with Wyll, shaking her head and muttering, “Coward. They would have respected a proper duel.”
Meanwhile, Wyll was doing his best to calm his racing heart and come up with a less mortifying way to tell you how he felt—ideally without Lae’zel’s "help."
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Halsin:
Halsin prided himself on his control, his connection to nature, and his ability to remain grounded in even the most chaotic of circumstances. But when it came to you, all of that composure seemed to dissolve like frost under the morning sun.
You were utterly magnetic to him—your presence so compelling that his heart would stutter every time you entered the same space. He found himself enchanted by the curve of your smile, the warmth in your voice, the kindness in your touch. And it was unbearable. Literally, because every time you touched his arm or leaned in to speak to him, his instincts would flare wildly out of control.
The first time it happened, you’d brushed some stray leaves off his shoulder after he returned from foraging. “Halsin, you’ve brought back half the forest,” you joked, smiling up at him.
Halsin opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, a rush of heat overtook him, and— bam—he was suddenly a large, startled elk.
You jumped back with a yelp of surprise, staring wide-eyed at the animal in front of you. “Halsin?”
The elk gave a deep snort, its head hanging low as if mortified.
It happened again not long after, when you touched his hand while passing him a flask of water. This time, he transformed into a wolf, looking up at you with ears pinned back, practically radiating sheepishness.
“Halsin,” you laughed, kneeling down to scratch behind his ears, “you’ve got to warn me if you’re going to do that.”
By the time the third accidental wildshape happened—this time as a squirrel after you had simply smiled at him—Jaheira had had enough.
The older druid cornered Halsin after dinner, arms crossed and an unimpressed look on her face. “You’re a leader, Halsin. A figure of strength and wisdom. Yet here you are, hiding in fur and feathers because of a crush.”
“It’s not just a crush,” Halsin muttered, his deep voice unusually uncertain. “It’s… consuming. Every time I try to speak to them, I lose myself. They are radiant, Jaheira. I can hardly stand near them without—”
“—turning into livestock, yes,” Jaheira interrupted, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You’re a druid, not a child. Get a grip, Halsin. They won’t notice your feelings unless you make them clear. And for the love of Silvanus, do it without shifting.”
Halsin sighed heavily but nodded. “You’re right. I must face this head-on.”
Jaheira clapped him on the shoulder. “Good. Now go before you sprout wings or something ridiculous.”
Halsin found you sitting by the campfire, a jar of honey and a piece of bread in your hands. The firelight danced across your features, and Halsin felt his heart thrum painfully in his chest.
“Is everything okay, Halsin?” you asked, looking up at him with a concerned smile.
Halsin cleared his throat, forcing himself to remain steady. “Yes, I… there is something I need to tell you.”
You tilted your head, some honey glistening on your lips. “Of course. What is it?”
And that was it. The sight of your lips, the gentle curve of your expression—it was too much. Despite every ounce of willpower he had summoned, Halsin’s body betrayed him. With a flash of light and a muffled groan, he was suddenly a massive brown bear, sitting heavily on the ground.
You blinked, staring at him for a moment before bursting into laughter. “Halsin! You did it again!”
From across the camp, Jaheira let out a long, exasperated groan, throwing her hands up. “I give up!” she muttered, stalking off.
The bear lowered its massive head, letting out a low huff of frustration. You reached over and gently placed a hand on his fur.
“It’s okay, big guy,” you said, grinning. “You’ll figure it out eventually.”
If Halsin could have blushed, he would have. Instead, he let you pet him, resigning himself to the fact that his feelings were much harder to control than he’d ever anticipated.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
This was so so so so so much fun to write !! Especially Gale's icl hehehe. Hope you guys enjoyed it ! - Seluney xox
If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x
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russo-woso · 3 days ago
Text
This wasn’t planned || USWNT x pregnant!teen!reader
Request | Masterlist | Prompt list
Warning Teen pregnancy, morning sickness, cravings, long painful labour and delivery
Summary You fall pregnant very unexpectedly and feel like your falling but your teammates are there to pick you up
A/N I’ve done three different versions of this now with different teams but this is the final one 🫶🏻
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
“Y/N, what’s wrong hun?” Emily asked as she walked into the bathroom, heating your wracked sobs.
Emily was like your sister, having known you from the US team and Arsenal. You two even lived together in England.
You showed her the pregnancy test, her jaw dropping as she saw pregnant.
You weren’t surprised at her reaction, after all you were only sixteen. You don’t think anyone really expects you to be pregnant so young, but here you were.
“I did it once, Em. I was at that stupid party I told you about and I hooked up with a guy. It wasn’t even that long. Twenty second if that. And he wore a condom! I don’t get what happened.” You sobbed, Emily holding your shaking body.
“I know, hun. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Emily whispered repeatedly, stroking your hair. “The girls will be with you the whole way through. I promise. I’ll help you.”
You didn’t believe her at first, thinking that everyone would judge you.
But surprisingly, Emily was right.
You had no choice but to tell the team, some of them bringing up that you were constantly sick, especially in the mornings.
“Y/N, are you okay? I saw you run in here.” Sophia asked as you continued to throw up in the toilet.
She rubbed your back as you threw up, holding your hair back too.
“Hun, you’ve been sick every single day this week. Are you sure you’re okay?”
You debated whether to lie or not, but you figured you’d be telling her soon anyway.
“I’m pregnant.” You revealed.
“Oh my god… hun, this is big. I’m here for you, okay?”
“Thank tou.” You sent her a weak smile before hugging her.
The reactions of the others was similar, promising they’ll help with whatever they could.
There was one person though who you had to tell, Alex.
Alex Morgan was like your mum. After growing up without a mother, Alex took on that role when you joined the USWNT.
In the year you played together, the two of you became so close.
Since she’d retired, you rang her to see if you could meet her somewhere and you agreed a small coffee shop.
You were nine weeks already, the party having been nine weeks ago, so you were starting to show the most tiniest bit hence why you had started to wear baggier clothes.
“Hi, hun!” Alex cheered as you walked though the door.
“Hey, Al.” You sighed, melting into the hug.
You got caught into a conversation when you finally got the confidence to reveal the pregnancy.
“So… I have some news and I don’t really…” you began, feeling tears well in your eyes.
“You’re pregnant?” Alex guessed, your eyes widening in shock.
“Yeah. How did you know?”
“I know you, Y/N. The Y/N I know doesn’t wear baggy clothes and she certainly doesn’t not order coffee.” Alex explained, looking at you noticing how emotional you looked. “I’m so proud of you. You’re so good with Charlie, I just know you’re going to be a good mama.”
“Thanks, Alex.” You said between cries
“I’m pregnant too.” Alex revealed
“Are you actually?”
“It’s still really early. I’m gonna announce it when I retire from club football.” Alex said. “So, we’ll have each others backs, huh?”
“Em?” You shouted from the living room to Emily who was stood making lunch for you both.
“Yeah?”
“Can you please get the marmite for me. Bubba’s really craving it.” You said, rubbing your now seven month bump.
“Eww, marmite?” Emily replied, grabbing it from the cupboard anyway and bringing it through to you.
“Not my fault.” You told her and she nodded, understanding.
Just as you opened the lid, a knock was heard at the door.
Emily got up to answer it, Alessia and Lotte’s voices filling the house.
“Hiya, Y/N, hiya bubba. They’ve got so big!” Alessia exclaims as she settles on the couch next to you.
“Hi.” You greet back, your mouth full of marmite.
“New craving by any chance?” Lotte asked and you nodded.
“This is the fourth jar this week.” Emily added as you grinned cheekily.
“It’s not my fault the bubba wants it.”
Your phone started ringing and you picked it up to see it was Alex ringing you.
“Hey Al.” You said, lifting yourself off the couch and walking towards your room.
“Hey hun, how you feeling? Emily said bubba’s been kicking you every night.”
“Alex, they won’t stop. I swear, it’s like they do it at night on purpose.” You said, collapsing onto your bed after the difficult journey up the stairs.
“What’s wrong? You sound out of breath.”
“I’ve just walked up the stairs.” You replied, Alex humming, also agreeing with how you were feeling. “Anyways, how are you?”
“Broke, but I’m okay.” Alex said
“Why are you broke?”
“Because I’ve just booked plane tickets to come see one of my favorite girls in England.” Alex responded, a clear smile evident in her voice.
“Alex… no.” You said, shocked.
“Yes, I’ve missed you so much, hun. I want to come see you before bubba is born.”
“Oh my god! When do you come? I’m canceling everything.”
The conversation carried on about when Alex was coming and what you were going to do.
You were now approaching the nine month stage.
You were exhausted to say the least. You were tired of being pregnant, you just wanted your baby here already.
You had asked Emily if you could go with to Colney today, wanting to see the Arsenal girls before you have birth.
She said yes, knowing she’d been making you coop up in the house for weeks now.
Maybe it would be good for you to get some fresh air.
“Hey, hun!” Alessia said, watching you waddle into the canteen where all the girls were sat. “You ready for bubba to come?”
“No. I’m dreading it but I can’t wait for them to come.” You responded, still making your way over to where alessia was sat.
“I can’t wait to meet them.”
“Well, you’re not going to wait much longer. Not much longer at all. Maybe today even because by the looks of it, bubba wants to come out now.” You said, looking at the puddle by your feet.
“Oh my god! Your water broke? Emily!” Alessia shouted, clearly panicked.
“Less! Calm down.” You laughed
“Yeah? Y/N! Your water broke!” Emily exclaimed, noticing the puddle at your feet.
“Wow, I hadn’t noticed.” You replied sarcastically, Emily rolling her eyes.
“Come on, hun, let’s get you home.”
It had been a long day.
You went home after your water broke, getting changed before timing your contractions.
After three hours, your contractions were bad, but not close enough to each other to go through hospital.
Emily suggested you went on a walk, to try speed up the labour.
You went around the block, waddling along as you walked.
But when you got back, they were only six minutes apart.
It was three o’clock when you finally went to the hospital, five hours after your water had broken.
Your contractions were close together now and were painful. Very very painful.
Emily drove to the hospital, holding your hand for support and comfort.
When you arrived, the nurses guided you to your room, allowing you to settle first before coming back to check how dilated you were.
“So, you are four centimetres dilated. How long ago did your water break?”
“About five hours ago.” You tell her
“Okay, so normally you would be a lot more further on in labour but there’s no need to worry. Slow labour could be affected by anything. Your age. Your athleticism. Anything.” The nurse explained and you nodded along, trying to focus on her words but it was hard to with a contraction hitting. “I’d recommend trying to get to sleep. It’ll be a long night for you and it might speed things up a bit.”
You took into account the fact that you might not be getting sleep with a newborn so you managed to get a few hours sleep, which actually helped speed up your labour too.
You were now nine centimetres dilated.
You had declined the epidural, having a massive fear of needles and after reading the negative effects an epidural could have, you definitely didn’t want it.
You were given gas and air instead, trying to decrease the pain as much as possible.
It was coming close to midnight, your body tired and achy now.
Emily still stayed by your side, rubbing your back and holding your hand.
You were currently knelt against the bed, your head in your arms as they rested on top of the bed.
“I think you’re ready to push.” The midwife announced as she checked how dilated you were.
“Thank god. I don’t know if I can do this for much longer.” You said, letting a sigh of relief out.
“Ready to meet your baby, huh?” Emily asked and you nodded, feeling a contraction coming.
“Ready to push? On three. One, two, three.”
You pushed with all your might, gripping onto Emily’s hands as you did.
“Okay, another one.”
Similar to the first push, you tried your hardest but there seemed to be no improvement.
Emily stroked back your sweat drenched hair, placing a kiss to your forehead as you pushed.
“I’m never having sex again.” You revealed after a push.
“Okay, hun.” Emily laughed
You had now been pushing for over half an hour, but still there seemed to be no sight of your baby.
“Y/N, if we can’t see your baby after this push we’re going to have to rush you in for an emergency C-Section.” The midwife said, and you nodded, knowing it would be for the best.
You were fully exhausted now, having used all your energy on the pushing.
“Hun, you’ve got this.” Emily said, panic on her face.
You groaned into the bed as you pushed, this time, using your whole body to push.
“I can see a head! Keep going, Y/N!” The midwife announced, as you kept pushing. “They’re heads nearly out. One more push and your babies head will be out.”
You pushed once more, this one more painful more than ever as the babies head crowned.
“They’re heads out. Take a breather if you want.” The nurse told you, rubbing your back in support.
“Tissue.” You mumbled to Emily who reached over to the box of tissues, bringing it to your forehead and wiping the sweat off.
“Whenever you’re ready, Y/N. One more big push, and your baby will be here.”
At them words, you pushed, using all your energy.
“They’re here! Your baby girl’s here.” The midwife said, catching your daughter and passing her under to you.
You held her to you chest, looking down at her as you both cried.
“Hi, bubba. I know that was tough, hey? Oh, I know.” You cooed as she cried her little lungs off.
“She’s perfect, hun.” Emily said rubbing your shoulder as she looked down at the baby in your arms.
“I’m gonna take her over here to check her vitals. I won’t be long.”
Whilst your baby girl was being checked over, you pushed the placenta out and moved to the bed.
Your daughter was being passed back to you, this time she was wrapped in a blanket with a small hat on top of her hair, covering her small tuffs of hair.
“She looked like you, Y/N.” Emily said
“You think so?”
“Same nose, same mouth, everything. A mini you.” Emily pointed out
“Would you like to hold her?” You asked Emily and she nodded, an emotional smile taking over her face.
“Hi, bubs. I’m your aunt Emily.” Emily cooed, stroking her finger up and down your daughter’s cheek. “What’s her name?”
“Florence Alexandra Y/L/N.”
“Oh my god, Alex is gonna be so happy.” Emily said
“I’m hoping she is, just like I’m hoping you’d be happy when I ask if you’d be Flo’s godmother?” You asked, Emily’s face lighting up.
“Of course! Oh my god thank you so much, Y/N.” Emily exclaimed, getting up to hug you.
After a while, you’d fed Florence and she was now fast asleep in a milk coma on your chest.
Emily was also fast asleep on the seat next to you.
You’d decided to FaceTime Alex to tell her about Florence.
The phone rang a few times before Alex finally picked up.
You’d angled the phone onto where Florence was laying, Alex’s jaw dropped as she focused on what she was looking at.
“They’re here?” Alex asked, you kidding with a tired smile.
“A girl. She’s perfect, Al. I’ve never felt a love like it, I’ve known her for an hour or two but I love her more than anything in the world. I guess you know what that feels like, huh? With Charlie.”
“I feel it with all my kids. Charlie, this baby, and you.” Alex said through tears.
“Al… you’re gonna make me cry.” You told her, blubbering.
“You’re my daughter too, Y/N. Since the moment you came into my life, you’ve been my daughter. Charlie loves you like a big sister too. Anyway, enough crying. What’s bubbas name?”
“Florence Alexandra Y/L/N.” You replied
“Oh my god, forget what I said about the no crying. You named her after me?”
“How could I not? You’re my mom Alex.” You said with a smile
“I love you two so much.”
“We love you too, Alex.”
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mononijikayu · 2 days ago
Text
water — gojo satoru.
Tumblr media
"Satoru, lover….oh." you gasped again, your hands fisting in his hair as he kissed his way down your neck, your body arching into him. "I want—" "I know, I know." he whispered against your skin, his voice low and husky. "Just hold on, babe. I'm gonna take you exactly where you need to go." And with that, he surged forward, capturing your lips in another fiery kiss, his hands moving to grip your thighs, holding you steady as the intensity between you built, hotter and hotter until you felt like you were about to burst.
GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence;
WARNING/S: afab!, romance, smut, nsfw, rated 18 and above, explicit content, exhibitionism, kissing, making out, fingering (f! receiving), oral sex (f! receiving), rough sex, p to v sex, orgasm, humor, profanity, pet names (lover, babe, etc), characters speaking in sexual innuendo, mention of sexual euphemisms, depiction of explicit sexual content, sorcerer! gojo satoru, sorcere! reader;
WORD COUNT: 5.5k words.
NOTE: this song hasn't been out of my head since it came out and now tyla has new music out and i just know it will slap and i will dance to it. i wanted to make sure satoru's first since i haven't written for him in a while!!! this begins this playlist!!! i hope you enjoy side 2000!!! i love you all and see you in the next one <3
masterlist
kayu's playlist - side 2000;
if you want to, tip! <3
YOU JUST WANTED TO ENJOY THE PARTY. It’s been a while since you’d found yourself trying to destress from work and the busy push and pull of life. And with Satoru’s schedule being the chaotic mess it was, it was always so rare for the two of you to go out for way too long and have fun together, with schedules that contradict each other.
So, when your next door neighbors finally debuted their pool at their house, they decided to throw a barbecue party for the neighborhood. When you told Satoru about it, he told you he was willing to take a day off. And knowing that, you knew you were taking the opportunity, even just for tonight, to loosen up. Isn’t that what life’s all about?
The evening sun was setting, casting a warm, golden glow over the pool, the perfect backdrop for a party that was only just beginning to heat up. Laughter and music filled the air, but your eyes were locked on one person. 
There he was, that bright eyed man Gojo Satoru, standing at the edge of the pool with his signature grin, a drink in hand. His bright snowy white hair was damp from a quick dip, droplets of water clinging to his skin as he watched you approach.
You could feel the heat of his gaze as you slid into the water, your body moving effortlessly through the cool pool. The tension between you was thick, the playful banter from earlier simmering into something much more intense as the night wore on.
"Looking a little wild tonight, babe." Satoru teased, his voice dripping with amusement as you swam up to him. He set his drink aside, his blue eyes glinting with a challenge. "Think you can keep up?"
Normally, you’d throw a sarcastic retort his way, but tonight was different. Tonight, something in you wanted more. The playful banter wasn’t enough. You wanted to feel his hands on your skin, to see if he could really make good on all those teasing words.
"You think you can handle me?" you shot back, your voice low and sultry as you moved closer, the water swirling around you both. The music pulsed in the background, the beat matching the thrum of anticipation coursing through your veins.
Satoru’s sly little grin widened, his fingers trailing lazily along the edge of the pool. "I don’t know, babe." he drawled, his voice laced with mock uncertainty. "But I’m more than willing to find out."
Without another word, you pushed forward, closing the distance between you, pressing your body against his. The cool water contrasted with the heat of his skin, and the contact sent a shiver of desire through you.
"Normally, lover boy…." you whispered, lips brushing against his reddening ear. "I can keep my cool. But tonight, I think…I think we need some heat, don’t you think?" You trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air between you.
Satoru's hands found your waist, his grip firm and possessive as he pulled you closer, his breath hot against your neck. His blue orbs clashing against your own, mischief echoing in their very color. 
"Good that you agree with me." he murmured, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of your throat. "Because I like it when you’re a little wild."
Your heart pounded in your chest as his hands roamed over your body, the slickness of the water making every touch feel even more intimate. His fingers dug into your hips as he lifted you slightly, pressing you against the pool's edge, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist.
The intensity of his gaze pinned you in place, blue eyes darkened with desire. "Can you handle this, babe?" Satoru’s vibrating voice was a low, dangerous rumble, full of heat and promise. “Can you really?”
Your breath hitched, the tension between you unbearable. "Why don't you show me how hard you can go, lover boy?" you challenged, your voice breathless, your body already burning with anticipation. “I’m sure….I can try.”
With a wicked grin, Satoru leaned in passionately. It was almost immediate, the way he was capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His ferious tongue teased yours, slow and deliberate.
Your lover always makes it a point to have a shot in tasting every inch of you as his hands explored your body under the water. You moaned into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his damp hair as the kiss deepened, the world around you fading away.
Every brush of his lips, every caress of his hands set your body on fire, making you sweat despite the coolness of the water. You could feel him, hard and ready against you, and the need for more, so much more. Everything about him was overwhelming. And you loved it, you loved it too much. 
"Satoru, oh—" you gasped as he kissed a trail down your neck, your body arching into him, desperate for every ounce of contact. "You're making me lose my breath like always."
"Good." he murmured against your skin, his hands sliding lower, gripping you tighter. "Because like always, I’m not done with you yet."
His mouth found yours again, the kiss deeper, hungrier this time, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. The heat between you both was scorching, your bodies pressed together in the water, moving in perfect rhythm. His lips traveled down your throat, his teeth grazing your collarbone, leaving you gasping, breathless.
"Then make me sweat, lover boy." you whispered against his ear, your fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw as his hands moved under the water, teasing your thighs, pulling you closer. “Make me feel good, like the water.”
Satoru groaned, a sound that sent a thrill through you. "I plan to, babe." he promised, his voice thick with desire as his hands gripped your waist.
He grins as he is lifting you slightly, pressing you harder against the pool's edge. "And when I'm done, you're gonna be begging me for more."
His words sent a shockwave of heat straight through you, and you could feel yourself trembling with need. The water around you felt like it was boiling, every touch from Gojo Satoru was igniting sparks of pleasure that raced through your body. He was taking over you, every bit of you — like he always does.
"Satoru, lover….oh." you gasped again, your hands fisting in his hair as he kissed his way down your neck, your body arching into him. "I want—"
"I know, I know." he whispered against your skin, his voice low and husky. "Just hold on, babe. I'm gonna take you exactly where you need to go."
And with that, he surged forward, capturing your lips in another fiery kiss, his hands moving to grip your thighs, holding you steady as the intensity between you built, hotter and hotter until you felt like you were about to burst.
Everything was just getting started.
And Gojo Satoru was still pretty hungry.
He liked having his fill of you every single time.
Your heart raced as Satoru’s grip tightened, his fingers digging into your skin just enough to keep you anchored while the rest of your body felt like it was spiraling out of control. Every kiss, every brush of his lips against your skin sent jolts of electricity through you, making you lose track of time, place, and everything else that wasn’t him.
The party noises faded into the background. The splashing of the pool, the music, the chatter of distant voices, none of it mattered anymore. It was just you and Satoru, bodies pressed together, the water swirling lazily around you as if time itself had slowed to match the intensity of the moment.
"Still think you can keep up, babe?" he whispered against your lips, his breath hot and teasing. His eyes sparkled with that familiar mischief, but beneath it, there was a hunger. There was this endless raw, desperate need that mirrored your own. “I wanna go as fast as I can with you.”
"Don’t worry about me, lover boy." you shot back, breathless but determined, your hands sliding down his slick chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath. "I can handle you."
Gojo Satoru’s grin widened at the challenge, his lips pressing hard against yours in a bruising kiss. All you could do was let him win, as you groaned against the pleasure of his searing touch. Even the heat of the passion was burning on water. 
His hands roamed over your body, exploring every curve, every dip, as if he wanted to memorize the feel of you beneath his fingertips. The water between you only heightened the sensation, the cool liquid a stark contrast to the heat that burned where his skin met yours.
"I’ll make you sweat more, babe. I promised you." he murmured, his voice low and rough, as if he could barely contain himself. 
His lips trailed down your neck again, his breath hot against your skin as he kissed and nipped his way down to your collarbone, making you gasp with each new touch. You could feel your body responding to him, heat pooling low in your stomach, your breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. 
"Satoru, lover boy. Oh, you’re…." you moaned, his name slipping from your lips before you could stop it, the intensity of the moment overwhelming. 
His hands slid down to your hips, gripping you tighter as he pressed you back against the edge of the pool. His lips were relentless, moving across your skin like fire, making you tremble beneath him. You were losing control, your body melting under his touch, every nerve lit up in anticipation.
"That’s right," he whispered, his voice dark and full of promise. "Let go for me."
You didn’t need any more convincing. Your hands tangled in his wet hair as you pulled him closer, your lips crashing against his in a feverish kiss, your body moving against his as if you couldn’t get enough. His hands slipped lower, teasing you, making you gasp as the pleasure built higher and higher.
"Satoru. You’re so…." you breathed, your voice trembling with need. "I can’t—"
"Yes, you can." he whispered, his lips brushing your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "You can take it. I’ll take you there."
The heat between you was unbearable now, the tension building with every kiss, every touch, every whispered word. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge, your body straining for release, every nerve in your body on fire.
"Come on, baby," Satoru murmured, his hands gripping your thighs as he pulled you closer, his lips hot against your skin. "Just let go for me."
And you did. The pleasure hit you all at once, like a wave crashing over you, stealing your breath and making you cry out as your body shook with the intensity of it. You clung to Satoru, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he held you steady, riding out the aftershocks of your release with slow, deliberate kisses that left you trembling.
"That’s my pretty babe, hm?” he whispered, his voice soft now, his lips brushing yours in a tender kiss. "You did so good."
You could barely catch your breath, your body still buzzing with the afterglow as you leaned back against the edge of the pool, your legs still wrapped around him. You looked up at him, your heart pounding in your chest, and saw that familiar, lazy grin on his face—the one that said he wasn’t quite finished with you yet.
"Think you’ve still got some energy left?" he teased, his hands moving up your sides, his thumbs brushing your skin in a way that sent shivers down your spine.
You raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at your lips. "You think I can’t keep up? Haven’t I shown you something good, lover boy?"
His grin widened, and he leaned in close, his lips hovering just above yours. "Oh, I know you can, babe." he murmured, his breath hot against your lips. "But I’m not done making you sweat just yet, you know?”
You both disappeared, finally slipping away from the crowd and into the shadows, your lips still locked in a feverish kiss. The night air was thick with the scent of chlorine and heat, but all you could focus on was Satoru. Only him. His hands, his mouth, his body pressed against yours with an intensity that left you breathless.
The two of you managed to find yourselves in a secluded corner, hidden from prying eyes. His lips trailed down once more your neck, and before you knew it, you were pressed up against the cool tile wall, your skin burning with need as his mouth worked wonders against your throat.
“You’re wild tonight, babe.” Satoru murmured, his voice thick with desire, fingers grazing your hips, teasing. His usual cocky grin spread across his face as he kissed you again, this time slower, deeper, as if savoring every second.
“And you love it, don’t you?” you shot back, breathless as you tangled your hands in his hair. The thrill of the night, of being wrapped in his arms, made your pulse race, your body crave more.
Without a word, Satoru dropped to his knees before you, and your breath hitched. You knew what he was doing. His hands parted your legs as his gaze burned into yours, the heat of his anticipation palpable in the air. 
The smirk on his face sent a shiver through you, but that shiver turned into pure heat when his lips met your inner thigh, trailing kisses up, up, until you could feel his hot breath against your core.
“Satoru…” you whispered, your voice barely audible, your body aching for his touch.
He didn’t hesitate. His tongue found you, and your head fell back against the wall, a soft moan escaping your lips as he devoured you like a man starved. You bit your lip as a plethora of pleasured moans released from your lips. 
There was no restraint, no gentleness—just hunger. His mouth was messy, his tongue moving in ways that had your legs trembling, and the slick from your arousal coated his chin as he worked you with an unrelenting passion.
The sounds he made, deep, guttural groans of satisfaction, it only heightened the pleasure, and the way his hands gripped your thighs, holding you steady. Everything about it made you feel like you were about to come undone at any moment. 
If anything, he was too hungry for your cunny. And he wouldn’t stop even if you wanted him too. He was hungry for you. He always was. He lapped at you, his tongue swirling and flicking with precision, like he was trying to draw out every moan, every gasp from your lips.
“Satoru… oh my god….” you gasped, your fingers threading through his white hair rougher as your body arched towards him, desperate for more.
He pulled back for just a moment, his chin glistening with your slick, eyes dark with lust as he grinned up at you. He’s having fun with this, he always has. If anything about Satoru, he doesn’t like playing fair when it comes to eating. 
“You taste so damn good, babe.” he growled, his voice low, feral, before diving back in. “How come you’ve become sweeter?”
“You…You tasted me last night, oh—”
“What can I say, babe? You always just get sweeter for me. And I love it.”
You groaned against his words. But he just laughed once again and dived in. If one had thought that he couldn’t go any deeper, any rougher, any hungrier, any messier — they would be wrong. He can go even more than that. You knew your lover way too well.
The way his mouth moved against you was nothing short of sinful. Sloppy, messy, and so damn good. It was as if he couldn’t get enough, like he was trying to consume every part of you. Your body was shaking, legs threatening to give out as the pleasure built inside you, and all you could do was grip his hair tighter, riding his tongue as he pulled you closer and closer to the edge.
His fingers slid inside you while his mouth never left its place, curling perfectly as he stretched you out. The combination of his fingers and his mouth working together had you spiraling, your moans echoing through the air, louder now, unable to hold back as your body begged for release.
“Fuck, Satoru, don’t stop. Please, don’t.” you moaned, barely coherent, the intensity too much, but you didn’t want it to end.
He didn’t slow down, he had no reason to. Not when you’re egging him on. Not when he wants you too badly. Not when it all just felt so good. You could feel his tongue moving with expert precision, his fingers thrusting deeper, harder, until you were teetering on the edge of oblivion. 
You could feel the tension building, that delicious, overwhelming pressure that made it impossible to think of anything other than him—his mouth, his fingers, the way he was devouring you like you were the last meal he’d ever get.
And then, without warning, you shattered. The orgasm ripped through you, your body convulsing as pleasure flooded every nerve, and Satoru didn’t stop. His fingers continued to move, his tongue still lapping at you, drawing out every last wave of pleasure until you were trembling, breathless, completely undone.
He pulled back slightly, his lips and chin slick with your sweet decadent release, and he looked up at you with a satisfied grin. That sly look, he always has that excitement when he makes you feel this way. Gojo Satoru believes he always has to win, one way or the other. 
“You taste like heaven, babe. A hundred percent heaven.” he murmured, his voice rough, hoarse, as he licked his lips, savoring the taste of you. 
You could barely catch your breath, your body still trembling as you leaned back against the rough brick wall for support, staring down at him with a dazed smile. Sweat permeated through your skin as you caught yourself back to some sense again.
“You’re unbelievable, Satoru.” you muttered, chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to recover from the intensity of it all.
Satoru took a moment to meet your orbs. Once more, they echoed that same desire. He was still hungry, he was still wanting more. Your lover rose to his feet, his body pressing against yours once again as he captured your lips in a heated kiss once again. 
You moan against the roughness of his desire, pushing against his tongue with your own. Almost instantly, you could taste yourself on his lips, the remnants of your slick still clinging to him, and it only made you crave him more. 
“You love it, babe.” he whispered against your mouth, his hands sliding up your body, possessive, confident. “And well, so do I.”
You couldn’t deny it. The way he had you, completely under his control, yet giving you everything you wanted, was intoxicating. You were hooked, the moment you met Satoru. You knew that when you let him get deeper and deeper, you couldn’t live without him. 
Without his kisses, his eyes, his warmth, his touch. One way or another, you were trapped with your want. You wanted more of him, like a greedy little vixen who won’t stop until you get what you wanted. And there was no turning back.
As you both pulled away and began dressing once again, the heat of the moment still thrumming between you, Satoru watched you with that mischievous grin, his cerulean eyes glinting in the low light. His hands brushed over your waist, teasing, as you adjusted your clothes, but there was still that lingering tension, that promise of more to come.
As you both stepped out of the secluded spot, you shot him a playful wink. “Try to keep up next time, Satoru.”
He chuckled, his smirk widening. “You think you can outlast me, doll?”
You grinned, leaning in to kiss him roughly, your lips pressing against his with that same intensity from earlier. “Oh I know I can.”
And you wanted to prove that yourself.
Instead of going back to the party, it was your turn.
It was your turn to be just as hungry for him.
You took his hand, grinning at him and pulling him away.
There were still unoccupied guest beds after all.
Gojo Satoru couldn’t shake the feeling that he loved making you sweat even more than before. The heat of the moment radiated between you as you found yourselves in one of the bedrooms, the faint thump of the party still audible in the background, but all you could focus on was each other. The room felt electric, filled with anticipation and desire, and the scent of your skin only heightened his need.
You weren’t sure whose bedroom it was, but that hardly mattered. What mattered was the way he had you bent over, your hands gripping the edge of the bed as he pressed into you from behind. The sensation was overwhelming, a delicious mix of pleasure and pressure that sent shivers through your spine.
“God, you feel amazing.” he murmured with desire. “Babe, how are you always so good?”
You could hear how his voice reverberated low and rough as he playfully ran his hands over the mound of your ass, savoring the way it responded to his playful touch. Each squeeze elicited soft gasps from your lips, and he couldn’t help but smile wide at how perfectly you arched for him, begging for more of him in you.
With one hand pressed against your back, you guided him deeper and deeper inside of you, ensuring your body was perfectly positioned for him. The way your skin glistened bright under the low light was nothing short of divine, and every movement sent waves of heat coursing through every fiber of Satoru’s being.
The greedy echo sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, a rhythmic echo that felt almost sacred to him. Gojo Satoru likes to think he was a worshiper and your body was his temple. And you were his god. You were his everything. 
Each and every time he made love to you, it was like holy hymns reverberating through the air, fueling his desire further. He loved the feeling of being so deeply connected to you, the way your bodies moved together in perfect harmony.
“Tell me you like this, babe.” he demanded, his voice husky with lust as he picked up the pace, driving into you with a steady force. “Tell me you feel gooddddd, oh—”
His hand shifted from your back to your hip, fingers digging into your skin as he pulled you closer, using his grip to push you further onto him. Everything felt like a burning pandemonium as he got deeper in crevices in you that you never thought existed before. 
You could feel your mouth watering, drooling as he pushed in and out of you, like he memorized the map and was finding it again, over and over. It was an interesting thing, how you could feel ever so alive just by being in his arms. By being so full of him. You know your lover boy feels the same thing too.
“Yes, yes, Satoru!” you gasped, your breath hitching as he hit that perfect spot, the pressure building with every thrust. You could feel the heat pooling low in your stomach, and each of his movements only intensified it.
“Good girl, my good girl. My pretty little babe.” he praised, the raw satisfaction in his voice making your heart race even faster. 
Gojo Satoru seems to thrive on this, every single time. He’d always been crazy. He knew that much. Much more so in bed. It was hard to find that genuinity of intimacy. Not only in the innocence of adoration, but the crazy roughness of sensuality. 
So when he met you and you matched his crazy, he found himself thriving. He found himself living pleasure through you, in ways he’d never known before. And he’d been glad for that. He’d been glad for you.
It was the way you responded to him, the way you melted under his touch every time you made love. It was the sweat that bound your flesh together. It was the way you would bite him as he pounded deeper into you. It was the way his fingers would dig onto your thighs and mark them. 
It was the way your nails would create a mess of bloody constellations on the neatness of his skin. It was the feeling of his fat balls slapping against your ass, the way your body reacted, was intoxicating. Every sound you made, every gasp, felt like music to his ears.
Everything you did, everything you gave him — it had made him feel so alive.
He leaned over you, his breath hot against your neck as he whispered. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this. Just for me, hm? Just for me.”
His words sent a thrill through you, and you couldn’t help but push back against him, wanting more, craving that deep connection that seemed to pulse between you. “More, Satoru. Please, don’t stop.”
He smirked slyly and immediately pushed to oblige, driving into you with renewed fervor> You cried out as the heat of the moment enveloping you both, his body pushing closer and closer to you, as though he wanted it to merge. 
Each thrust sent shockwaves through your body, igniting every nerve ending as you lost yourself in the rhythm, caught in a world that existed only for the two of you. You could care less if anyone were to walk in and see how deplorable this situation was. You could care less if someone screams in shock. 
No, nothing else mattered. It was pleasure that mattered. There was only you in this universe, only him and you — wet by the water of sweat that pools between the desire to make each other whole. 
“Damn, you’re perfect, babe.” he groaned, the sound vibrating through your body as he leaned into you more, the weight of him pressing you down, anchoring you to the moment. “So, so perfect.” 
The way he played with you, using your body to bring himself pleasure, sent you spiraling into pure ecstasy. Nothing else has come close to making you both feel alive. It was just this moment that made you feel that life was worth living. 
Just the two of you, the heat, the pleasure, and the way he made you feel alive. This was all that life needs. This was all what the Strongest needed to feel alive. Jujutsu was given to him from the moment he was born, it was as natural as breathing. But this moment with you, taking you as his own. Everything about this was his humanity. 
This was primal. This was instinct. It was trial and error.  And it was crazy. Nothing else will come close to how much he loves to be an animal with you. You groaned as you bit his shoulder hard, blood spoiling against his sweat. He groaned in pleasure, before grinning. Each thrust brought you closer to the edge, and the anticipation built until you could hardly contain it, ready to let go and embrace the bliss that awaited you.
Satoru's pace quickened, each thrust becoming more urgent, more desperate. You could feel him deep inside you, filling you completely, and every time he drove into you, your body responded with a jolt of pleasure that made your vision blur. You were utterly lost in the moment, overwhelmed by the sensations he was drawing out of you.
“God, you’re so tight, babe.” he groaned, his voice strained as he struggled to keep his composure. “How do you always know how to cage my cock? How do you always make it know where it belongs?”
He loved the way your body wrapped around him, how every inch of you seemed to beg for more. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mixing with your soft moans, creating a symphony of pleasure that echoed around you.
“Don’t hold back, Satoru.” you urged, your voice a breathy whisper that barely escaped your lips. “I want all of you, Satoru. Just like this. Come. Just do it.”
That demand of yours sent a rush of adrenaline through him, and he grinned against your shoulder, he himself biting there as you groaned like a prey against the hunter. He lifted his mouth, and stared at his masterpiece for a little while longer. That was surely to leave a mark. He snickers. 
“You asked for it, babe.” He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you up against him, using his strength to drive you deeper onto him. The change in angle had you gasping, your head falling back against his shoulder as waves of pleasure crashed over you.
“You feel so good.” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. “I could do this all night.”
“Then do it.” you urged, your body instinctively arching back into him, eager for every thrust, every delicious stretch. “Make me feel it.”
He laughs as he hits hard at one thrust, making your body shake against the covers. You groan hard as you try to hold on for dear life. You knew what you egged him to do. Then continued thrusting into you with a fierce intensity that had you moaning his name, your body responding eagerly to each movement. 
It was as if the world outside had faded away, and all that existed was the connection between you—his body, your body, moving in perfect unison. The pleasure built inside you like a coiled spring, tightening with every thrust. You could feel that familiar tension, that edge creeping closer, and all you could think about was how good he felt, how right it all was. 
“Satoru, I’m coming. Oh my god—” you started, but the words died on your lips as he hit that sweet spot again, sending shockwaves through your body.
“Yeah? You gonna come for me?” he teased, his voice thick with lust as he leaned closer, kissing down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. The sensation made your entire body tingle, and you could only nod, the words lost in a haze of pleasure.
“Tell me how much you want it, babe.” he demanded, his voice a low growl that made your heart race even faster.
“More, please! I need to—ah!” The plea escaped your lips as he thrust deeper, the pleasure overwhelming. “I need to come, Satoru!”
“Then let go,” he urged, his voice dripping with seduction. “I want to feel you fall apart for me.”
With his words wrapping around you like a spell, the tension finally snapped, and you cried out as waves of ecstasy crashed over you. It was like nothing you’d ever felt before. It was like you had seen the light for the first time with him.
It was so delicate and pure, that echo of unadulterated bliss that sent your body shuddering in pleasure. Satoru continued to thrust into you, riding out your orgasm with slow, deliberate movements that sent aftershocks of pleasure coursing through you.
“Just like that, babe. You feel so fucking good.” he groaned, his own breath ragged as he watched you unravel beneath him. 
The sight of you losing yourself was intoxicating, even more so your juices mixing with his in a watery flow within your crevices. And he couldn’t help but feel that rush of pride at how he could make you feel this way.
As you came down from your high,  Gojo Satoru slowed his movements, still keeping you close as he pressed kisses along your back. The warmth of his body enveloped you, and you reveled in the afterglow, the way your heart raced in time with his.
“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice laced with genuine concern as he pulled back to look at you, his blue eyes searching your face.
“Better than okay, babe.” you replied with a breathless laugh, turning to meet his gaze. “That was… incredible.”
He grinned, a playful glint in his eyes. “Just wait until round two. I’ve got plenty more where that came from.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress your smile. “You’re insatiable, Satoru.”
“Maybe so, babe.” he replied, leaning in to capture your lips in a soft kiss. “But I think you love it.”
You couldn’t deny it. The thrill of the night, the way he made you feel—it was a heady mix of excitement and desire that left you craving more. As you both pulled away, he gently squeezed your waist, a teasing smile playing on his lips. 
“Let’s give them something to talk about when we go back out there.”
You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And what do you have in mind?”
He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “I’ll show you.”
And with that, he swept you into another kiss, ready to take on the world outside, but knowing that this was only the beginning of your night together. You had a lot more to sweat in water together, whatever the form.
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keeryhours · 1 day ago
Text
wildflower chapter two - eddie munson
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Eddie Munson x Henderson! female reader
Main Masterlist
Series Masterlist
Eddie Munson Masterlist
Summary:
Corroded Coffin performs their homecoming show in Hawkins, and mistakes are made.
Chapter Warnings:
Smut (18+), p in v, unprotected sex, drunk sex, underage drinking, secret baby
Word Count: 3.4k
A/N:
This next chapter was a long time coming, but I hope you guys enjoy!
The rest of the week was a blur. You hadn’t thought of Eddie this much in over a year, and having him thrown back into your consciousness was like opening an old wound. You tried your best to push it out of your mind and keep yourself busy with work and chasing after Asher, but it was fruitless.
Steve and Robin were at your apartment Thursday night, the usual hangout since the three of you shared the night off. Asher was fresh out of his bath, dressed in his pajamas and sitting on the floor showing off his toy trains to Robin, who, to her credit, showed equal enthusiasm even on the 50th time of seeing the same Thomas the Tank Engine.
Steve and Robin had come armed with movies - these weekly hangouts usually turned into movie nights, especially when something new came into Family Video that one of them snatched up. Not that you’d complain.
“Alright, Ash. Time for bed,” you said, although the nearly 2 year old paid you no mind as he picked up Percy, the green train.
“You heard her, buddy. Time for the trains to go back to the station,” Robin said, helping the toddler gather his toys.
Asher pouted, but he helped put the trains in his toy box anyway. Once the toys were cleaned up, you lifted him into your arms, heading into his bedroom. A fresh diaper and a kiss goodnight later, you turned the lights off and slowly closed the door behind you.
Back in the living room, you flopped down on the cheap couch with a deep sigh.
“What’s on your mind, Henderson?” Robin asked, still lounging on the carpet. “You’ve been in your head all week.”
Steve looked at her like she was dumb. “Corroded Coffin?”
Robin rolled her eyes at him. “Are you thinking about going?”
You sighed again, running a hand through your hair to push it out of your face. “I don’t know. I don’t know.”
Steve looked at you sympathetically. “You know…it might be good. You never got that closure. Even if you just want to go to throw a drink in his face.”
You bit back a grin at the idea. He deserved it, that was for sure. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Do you think you’re going to wonder what if for the rest of your life if you don’t go?”
Steve’s sudden sage words caught you off guard. You hated to admit he was right. After these two years of wondering what you had done wrong to deserve his abandonment, there were definitely still wounds deep inside that never had the chance to heal.
Maybe you did need to see him.
Saturday night, with Ash at your mom’s house, you stared at yourself in the mirror. You couldn’t believe that you’d let yourself be talked into this. Dressed in a short black skirt, tight top with a leather jacket over top, you felt like you were looking at your high school self again. Like nothing had ever changed. Like Eddie was going to walk up behind you at any moment and wrap his arms around your waist with a wink and a “Looking good, baby.”
“Ready to go?” Steve asked as you walked back out into your living room. Steve and Robin wouldn’t be blending into the crowd at The Hideout as well as you would, and the idea nearly made you laugh a little.
“I guess so,” you said. “I’m ready for a drink.”
The Hideout really wasn’t much different than you remembered, besides the fact that it was absolutely packed full with a huge line out the door. It was surreal to see so many people wearing Corroded Coffin merch, the crowd absolutely buzzing with excitement.
Inside, you pushed your way through to the bar, Steve and Robin following close behind. You may still be a few months away from 21, but you knew that wouldn’t matter.
“Hey, Chris,” you greeted the bartender with a smile. He hadn’t changed a bit in the past two years.
“Well! Long time no see,” Chris greeted, his face lighting up. He pushed three beers across the bar without having to be asked. “I should have known you’d be here to see your boy play.”
Your boy. You resisted a wince as you passed bottles to Steve and Robin and opened your own, taking a big swig. “Yeah, of course.”
The crowd was intense. It had been a long time since you’d been in this scene - hell, it had been a long time since your nights had been more exciting than an episode of Sesame Street. Visually you fit in, but you still found yourself standing off to the side with your friends rather than joining the crowd of fans.
You downed your beer in no time and ordered another. You were already multiple beers in before the opening act even came on.
“Are you okay?” Steve asked, eyeing you as you popped open your fourth beer. “We can leave if you don’t want to do this.”
You shook your head. You were already here, you were going to do this. “I’m good,” you assured him, waving him off. He still eyed you warily, but didn’t push it.
You barely paid any mind to the opening act. Sure, they were good, but you knew what you were waiting for. Your heart thundered wildly in your chest, although the nerves in your stomach were fading with every drink.
When the opening act left the stage, the change in atmosphere was palpable. The crowd began to chant and cheer, and then -
There they were.
Gareth walked out first, drumsticks in hand. You felt your breath catch in your throat - the memories came rushing back. The other guys followed behind, and then finally - Eddie.
Eddie sauntered out with a cocky grin and a hand up in a wave to the crowd, who were screaming so loud you thought your eardrums might burst. Your blood felt like ice, you didn’t think your heart could beat any harder without killing you. He looked like himself, but there was something obviously different. He wore a tight pair of ripped jeans on his long legs, a Metallica tee with the same leather jacket he always wore. You hated how familiar it felt. He carried himself with the confidence of a real rockstar. You supposed that’s what he was now.
He approached the microphone. “Hello, Hawkins,” he drawled, and the cheers somehow grew even louder. A bra flew from the crowd and landed at his feet, and he reached down and picked it up with a chuckle, hanging it on the mic stand. You rolled your eyes.
“It’s good to be back in our hometown,” he continued, that grin still on his face. “You guys made us what we are. We owe it all to you. We couldn’t imagine ending the tour anywhere else.”
The crowd ate up every word. And Eddie looked like he reveled in the attention. He looked so natural on stage. He was living his dream, after all.
As Gareth hit his drum sticks together and the band started their first song, Eddie scanned the crowd. You had felt sure you, Steve, and Robin were far enough into the shadows on the sides that you’d be unnoticeable, but with that magnetism you two had always shared - Eddie’s eyes locked on yours.
He froze. The cocky facade dropped and his mouth parted in shock as you stared at each other. You felt dizzy all of a sudden, like you might pass out. Ever observant, Robin noticed immediately, eyes darting between you and Eddie. He nearly missed the opening line of the song before he jolted back to awareness.
“I need another drink,” you mumbled, pushing through the crowd and back to the bar.
You didn’t slow down on the drinks as the show went on. Eddie was taking shots onstage, like he needed to feel numb just as bad as you did. By the end of their set, Eddie was drunk, yet he still managed to perform perfectly.
“Thank you, Hawkins,” he slurred into the mic as the show ended. “Next round’s on us for everyone!”
That set the crowd even wilder than they had been. The band exited the stage, and you pushed back through the crowd to the bar again, stumbling in your boots as the room tilted around you. You heard Steve calling your name from somewhere behind you, but you lost your friends in the crowd in your pursuit of yet another drink.
“One more on my tab, Chris,” you slurred once you reached the bar.
“Add her whole tab to mine,” an uncomfortably familiar voice came from behind you. “And another round of shots for me and the boys.” You felt chills across your skin as Chris nodded and pushed you another drink before he poured the alcohol into four shot glasses.
You saw his ringed hand reach forward and grab one of the glasses. You slowly turned to meet his eyes as he downed the shot, shooting you a smirk as he smacked it back down on the bar top.
“Well,” he slurred, his eyes just as glassy as your own. “Hello again, beautiful.”
You were so drunk that you didn’t even remember how he hurt you. How he abandoned you. You just saw Eddie, and your heart reached for him through your chest just like it always did.
“Eddie,” you whispered, as if there was nothing else to say.
He kept smirking at you, his large hand landing on your upper back and then sliding down to rest on your hip. His eyes roamed over your outfit, drinking you in hungrily.
You didn’t mind.
“I’ve missed you,” he murmured, his hand squeezing your hip posessively and pulling you closer. Your head spun with the motion, and you weren’t sure if it was from the alcohol or from Eddie himself.
“I missed you too,” you admitted, both to him and to yourself.
“Want me to take you home?” he asked, leaning forward, his voice a purr in your ear. It sent goosebumps across your skin.
Even in your drunken haze, you knew you shouldn’t say yes. Eddie had done something truly shitty to you, and you had no intention of forgiving him that quickly, or maybe even at all. But he was just as intoxicating as the large amounts of alcohol in both of your systems, and you found yourself letting him lead you backstage and out the back door.
You were so drunk yourself that you hadn’t even thought about whether Eddie could even drive in his state, but he ushered you into the back of a car with a man already sitting in the driver’s seat before sliding in beside you. His hand rested on your thigh as you told the man the address of your apartment, rising higher and higher until it was teasing under the hem of your skirt.
He pulled you into him as the car started moving. Your lips found each other like they’d never been apart, and he kissed you hungrily, tasting like alcohol and cigarettes, but you didn’t care.
Neither you nor Eddie seemed to care a single bit that there was a stranger in the front seat as an audience to the two of you all over each other. Your apartment wasn’t far from the dive bar, and before you knew it you were stumbling out of the car hand in hand with Eddie, both of you giggling like it was 1985 again and you were just two kids in love.
It took you three attempts to unlock the front door of your apartment, your vision hazy and your brain even fuzzier from the feeling of Eddie’s hands all over you, pushing up your top right there in the hallway while he placed sloppy kisses against your neck and shoulders.
When the door finally opened, you barely had time to kick your boots off and drop your leather jacket before Eddie was pushing you up against the door, slamming it closed. You moaned against his lips as they devoured your own, his tongue exploring your mouth desperately. He pulled your top over your head and dropped it to the floor. Your lipstick was smeared across his face, and he wiped it off with the back of his hand.
“Look so fucking sexy,” Eddie mumbled as he moved in to attach his mouth to your neck, sucking love bites all across the skin. “I’ve thought about you every day.”
You didn’t have the brain power at the moment to process those words. The drinks had already taken all concepts of critical thought, but every moment of Eddie’s mouth and tongue against your neck drowned out coherent thought itself.
His hands lowered from your hips to the back of your bare thighs and he squeezed. You worked in tandem just like old times as you jumped up for him and he gripped your thighs as you wrapped your legs around his waist. You could feel how hard he was already through his jeans, pressed up against your core.
“Where’s your bedroom?” he asked breathlessly, moving back to your lips.
“Last door down the hall,” you mumbled back, and then you were pulled away from the door as he walked down the hall, carrying you like you weighed nothing. He was sloppy, still drunk and knocking into the table in the hall, sending a picture frame falling to the (thankfully carpeted) floor.
He pushed the door open to your bedroom, and seconds later you landed on your back on your soft mattress. Eddie’s eyes were completely glazed over with lust, locked on yours as he kicked his shoes off and started unbuckling his belt. You watched him with equal hunger as he undid his tight jeans and pushed them to the floor, his excitement obvious through the material of his boxers. He leaned over the bed and reached behind you to unzip your skirt, pulling it down your body and leaving you in your bra and panties.
You pushed the jacket off his shoulders and grabbed onto the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it. His body looked the way you remembered it, the familiar lines and curves coming back to you as you roamed your hands over his soft skin like second nature.
“Eddie,” you whined, pushing your hips up against his painfully hard erection. He hissed at the contact, his mouth trailing hot kisses down your neck and over your chest. He reached behind you and unclasped your bra, your nipples quickly pebbling in the cool air. His mouth moved to envelop one of your nipples, his hand attending to the other. He swirled his tongue around it, sucking on your tits as you arched beneath him.
It had been a while for you, honestly.
“Fuck, need you so bad,” he muttered. He sat up on his knees, eyes raking over your body for only a moment before he reached for the hem of your panties. He pulled them down your legs quickly, urgently pushing his boxers down. His hard cock sprang free, already leaking precum. He wrapped his hand around the base, squeezing, another hiss leaving his lips.
He grabbed the backs of your thighs again, spreading your legs and pushing them up towards your chest to take in the sight of your pussy, glistening and ready for him. He muttered another “Fuck,” under his breath.
He traced a finger through your folds, collecting your wetness on his finger and bringing it to his mouth. He moaned at the taste of you, just as sweet as he remembered.
He leaned back over your body, lining himself up at your entrance, not a single thought about protection going through either of your minds. He pushed in quickly, causing your back to arch and a gasp to fall from your lips, fingernails digging into Eddie’s shoulders as he stretched you intensely.
“Too big,” you managed to squeak out, which made Eddie chuckle against the skin of your neck.
“You can take it,” he assured you, starting up a slow pace, although it pained him to do so. “You always took it so well.”
It didn’t take long for your body to remember his. The pain faded into pure pleasure within the minute, and then you were moving your hips along with his thrusts. Eddie noticed and picked up the pace of his hips, giving up on being careful and fucking into you with reckless abandon.
High moans spilled from your lips, your eyes falling closed as the feeling of him enveloped you completely. You could think of nothing but the pleasure he was providing with every press of his cockhead against that bundle of nerves deep inside you. Even after all this time, he knew exactly how to fuck you.
Eddie’s own grunts and groans were unashamed as he rutted into you with no real rhythm, drunkenly chasing his own release inside you. Somehow through the drunk and lust filled haze, he had the thought to reach down and rub tight circles on your clit, building that tightening feeling in your belly faster and faster.
“G’na cum,” you whined, your pussy tightening around his cock enough to make him moan even louder as he started fucking you even faster.
“Yeah, princess, that’s it, cum on my cock, just like that,” he babbled encouragement, his own release approaching rapidly. “Fuck, yeah, all over my cock baby.”
Your orgasm crashed through you with the power of a fucking train, and your eyes rolled back, body trembling and pussy clenching around him over and over again as you chanted his name, sounding just like all his groupies at the concert.
That’s all Eddie needed to fall over the edge with a hissed “Shit, shit!” and a low groan against your neck as he spilled inside of you, filling you deeply with ropes of his cum.
Once you were both spent, Eddie pulled out of you, rolling off and collapsing on the bed next to you. You both caught your breath. You wondered if you should say something, but the pull of sleep in both of your drunken minds was too strong. It wasn’t long before you heard Eddie’s soft snores, before you were pulled under, too.
You were woken up by a pounding at your front door.
Still, your eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the light filtering through your bedroom windows through the pounding headache already plaguing you. Your heart stopped in your chest when you saw Eddie’s naked form still sleeping next to you.
Fuck, what did you do?
You jumped out of bed and pulled on a t-shirt and pair of sweatpants before walking into the living room before whoever was pounding on the door woke up your entire apartment complex.
You swung open the door, irritated, to find a panicked looking Steve standing there.
“Jesus Christ,” he said when you opened the door. “You just disappeared last night. I thought you got abducted or something.”
The guilt and emotions hit you as the full reality of what you’d done fell on your chest. “Steve…” you started, unsure how to even explain yourself.
“How did you even get home? You just went to the bar and-“ Steve stopped cold, wide eyes trained at something over your shoulder.
Despite the dread in your stomach, you slowly turned, seeing Eddie standing in the hallway behind you, looking sheepish and dressed back in his jeans with no shirt.
“Uh, hey,” he said, a hand running through his curls.
Steve slowly looked back at you. “What the fuck.”
You didn’t even know what to say as you looked between the boys. Eddie looked down at the picture frame on the floor that had been knocked down last night.
“Oh, shit,” he said, almost to himself. He leaned down and picked it up. “I, uh, might have knocked this over-“
He froze. And the second you realized what photo he was looking at, you did, too.
It was Asher. A recent portrait, The toddler sporting a huge gap-toothed grin, his big brown eyes and wild head of curls mirroring the man currently standing in your hallway.
Eddie stared at the photo, completely unmoving. You didn’t even think you were breathing at this point. You could feel Steve’s presence behind you, everyone frozen waiting for someone to make a move.
He finally looked up slowly, eyes meeting yours with questions swirling inside that you didn’t want to answer and he wasn’t sure he wanted the answers to.
Eddie said your name softly, fear lacing his voice. “What is this?”
tag list
three of you it wouldn’t let me tag, so if you requested to be on the list and you aren’t here that’s why! i’m sorry :(
@awkward00noodle @american-idiot-jpg @georgeweasleyslostearhq @fandom-princess-forevermore @emxxblog @hopesicle @hellv1ra @whimsiwitchy @avalon-wolf @kellsck @toomuchbucky @sashaphantomhive @losingmygrasponreality @the-disaster-in-waiting @eddiesgirl1944 @ashcal99
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world-of-aus · 2 days ago
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Hot Shot
Pairing: NHL!Photographer!Reader x Hockey Player!Bucky
Warnings: Bucky being a heartthrob.
A/N: I've been reading one to many hockey romances and well here we are scratching an itch. I know I would like to eventually come out with a bigger story for these two but for now this is just the start a taste if you will. I'd like to leave this open to suggestion of what y'all would like to see or know about these two if anything.. Hope you enjoy the first taste.
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You barely had a chance to unlock your screen to reply to her message before her caller ID
was taking up your screen, a recent photo of her and Steve that she had made as her contact picture pulling a smile onto your lips.
“Tasha.” you answer.
“Y/n, listen I know you were just planning on watching the game from the comfort of your living room but I mean talk about an upgrade! From a television screen to being at the actual game on the floor behind the safety of the glass getting some wicked shots, and no one captures action shots like you do - I promise I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.” she tacks on her voice pleading.
You chuckle, you know had the circumstances been different she’d be one of the first ones at the arena, she hadn’t missed one of Steve’s games yet, not since you had been signed on. “Natasha relax, you know you don’t have to pull out the stops on me, I'll go - do you want me to send you the photos?”
The redhead turned blonde breathes a heavy sigh of relief, “oh god thank you! and if you don’t mind, but take your time, I’m sure a certain bruin's player is going to be demanding your attention after the game especially if they bag a win.” she teases seemingly mentioning the man in your DM’s.
Your cheeks warm, the unread notification from the player she speaks of appearing in your mind, “please Tasha,” you deflect, “it’s the game of the season he’ll have plenty of attention with all the puck bunnies sporting his name on their jersey throwing themselves at him for an inkling of his attention.” you murmur picking at an invisible speck of lint on your sweater as you stand from the couch, intent on getting your things packed to head out.
“And yet he only seems to want yours,” she sings, “you should totally wear the jersey I got you for your birthday.”
You roll your eyes smile pulling at your lips, “is your flight really delayed, do I have to text Steve?”
Your friend laughs, “unfortunately it is and hey thank you again for this, I owe you, love you, oh and send me a picture of Steve, one of you and Bucky too!”
You shake your head as your friend rushes out her farewell your screen now gone black as you look down at it “looks like pjs are out of the question for tonight” you murmur continuing on through your apartment to grab your things Bucky’s text still sitting in your messages unanswered.
He’d have his answer soon enough.
🏒🖤
The cool of the arena’s backstage floor seeps through your jeans, your tripod sitting off to the side, your camera nestled in your hands as you wait for the first few players of the bruins to make their arrival.
Your camera goes up; the first of the team to come through the backdoors is the Bruins coach Fury, he spots you smile on his face his hand coming up in a greeting as you get your first arrival shot of the day. Slowly players begin to trickle in, most of them spot you posing for you as they stride by, others walk by with a simple wave their heads already in the game.
Speaking of head in the game center Steve Rogers makes his way in, his suit pressed, duffle thrown over his shoulder as he owns the floor. “Looking good Rogers, say you wouldn’t have Natasha tucked away in that duffle by chance?” you tease grinning behind your camera. You laugh at the grin that breaks his lips, a shake of his head as he directs his gaze at you, “can assure you Natasha wouldn’t be packed in my bag, she’d be hanging on my arm.” You coo at the bearded blonde, “you think you can say that again I didn’t have my phone out.”
The two of you laugh as you capture a few more shots, “Come on Rogers leave some love for the rest of us, you already have your face glued on billboards!”
Left defenseman Sam Wilson is striding in next million dollar smile painted on his lips like the suit he wears on his skin. “But no one has their face printed on as many shirts like you do Wilson, now give me something new to look out for will ya, want to make sure these etsy sellers get only the best!” Wilson eats your words up, feeding the fans through your film. He comes closer kneeling to your level to pull you in for a hug, “it’s good to see you hot shot, thought you weren’t coming out tonight with how Barnes was moping.”
Your heart beats like a wild drum in your chest, “Tasha’s flight got delayed, cashed in her IOU, so here I am and surely your version of Barnes moping is different from mine.”
“Oh man you should of seen him, had to smack the phone out of his hands with how often he was checking it, you’re gonna join us tonight after the win right?”
“You Bruins are so sure about that win,” you laugh.
“That’s because it’s in the bag, hot shot.” It takes everything in you not to snap your eyes to the broad shoulder right defenseman sauntering into the building. “Here comes your boy.” Sam chuckles patting your shoulder as you find said man with your camera lens. You wanted to eat him up like he was eating at your film.
Like Sam Bucky strolls till he’s standing above you, grin pulling at his pink lips as he offers you his hand. You set your camera down gently against your chest before taking his offer, warmth seeping though you at your hand wrapped in his. “Thought you weren’t gonna show.” He murmurs watching you.
“Well as enticing as staying in my pjs on my couch with a glass of wine watching the game tonight sounded IOUs are a serious thing to cash in.” you say struggling to keep his gaze, you were certain you’d turn into a puddle of goo soon.
“More enticing then upgrading your lock screen?”
You let out a groan reaching out to smack his chest, but his hand captures yours instead keeping it there a teasing smile playing at his lips. “You’re never going to let that go are you?” you question recalling the night at the bar that he discovered himself as your lock screen. To be fair it was one of your favorite shots you had captured at the beginning of the seasons. It didn’t hurt that he was your favorite Bruin player to follow on and off the ice.
“Never, though I’m hoping by the end of the night ill see a photo of me after the win.” He chuckles thumb running over your hand.
“You’d have to secure a win first Barnes.”
Your breath catches in your chest as he closes the distance between the two of you, “I’ve already won though.”
Your reply is caught on your tongue, Fury voice breaking through the haze, “Barnes you’ll have time to catch up with y/n later get your ass in the lockers now!”
Bucky let’s your hand falling, chuckle brewing in his chest as he steps back, “hope you’re not watching Wilson or Rogers to closely tonight hotshot because this wins for you, and I’m going to be the one bringing it home.”
You watch him walk away, his gaze lingering on you till he disappears through the locker room.
And God how you hoped he would.
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joelslastofus · 2 days ago
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[SUMMARY: Coparenting with Joel, he finds out the man you’re newly dating is a danger. ]
PART TWO
Meeting for thanksgiving dinner.
Joel sat down watching as Henry’s hand settled on your lower back. Sarah and Tommy could be heard joking around in the background with Everly as all of Joel’s focus fell on another man touching you.
Angst
Just as you turned off the stove the bell rung unexpectedly.
“Joel?” You whispered to yourself as you saw him through the window.
“Did you forget something?” You asked as you opened the door.
“We need to talk” the look of concern in his eyes caught your attention. Quietly you let him in and had him follow you to the kitchen as Everly lay on the living room floor watching tv.
“Dinner is ready, if you’d like I can make you a plate” he shook his head distracted with what he had to say.
“How much do you know about this Henry guy?” You turned to him confused by his question.
“Um, I’m still getting to know him, I know some things-“
“Like what?” You knew Joel, something wasn’t right.
“He doesn’t have kids, he lives alone, he runs his mechanic company- why are you asking me this?” You rubbed your forehead with a puzzled expression.
“I don’t think you should see him anymore-“
“What? Joel-“ you almost laughed. Who was he to tell you who to and not date?
“Look, there’s some things about him that just ain’t right-”
“What things?” You placed your hand on your hip with a sigh.
“What did you do a background check on him?” You spoke sarcastically as he moved closer leaning in toward you.
“And what if I did? He’s around you and our daughter” he spoke low.
“Alright, this is getting ridiculous. Where are you going with this?”
Joel looked towards the door to make sure Every wasn’t near before turning back to you, an intense look in his eyes.
“He’s got a damn order of protection on him from another woman he was with before he met you,”
“Joel-“
“He was stalkin’ her and it wasn’t just her” you looked up at him silently unsure how to take in this information.
“How do you know this?” You asked softly noticing the uncomfortable swallow with your question.
“How?” You repeated.
“Sam-“ you instantly turned walking away.
“I don’t wanna hear about Sam! So your drunk irresponsible friend who’s already got you into trouble before is who you’re trusting with this information?!”
“I don’t think he’s wrong” he walked towards you as you kept your back to him prepping Everlys plate on the counter.
“And what if it’s not the Henry I’m dating? Then what? What if it’s just another one of his mix ups?” Joel stood silent before you finally turned back to him.
“Look I’m sure you don’t like the fact that I’m dating again and-“
“You think I’m lyin’? You think I’d lie about somethin’ like this?”
“No, Joel. I just think you jumped on the wrong information” you could see the frustration he felt that you didn’t believe him.
“You think so? Or you think he really coincidentally just keeps runnin’ into you and Everly?”
“It’s a small town, Joel. Look..” you sighed.
“This week is thanksgiving and I was thinking of inviting him for dinner with you, Tommy…the girls. He’s really nice, Joel, I don’t think it’s him-“
“Are you listenin’ to what I’m sayin’ dammit” he snapped in a low voice as Everly ran up to the door.
“Daddy?”
Joel sighed and crouched down as Everly ran up to him.
“Hi, honey”
“Are you picking me up again?”
“Not right now, baby, soon I promise” he assured her as she smiled and ran out the room. Joel stood back up as you leaned back against the counter crossing your arms.
“There’s no proof on this, Joel-“
“Come on, what are the damn odds in it being the same damn mechanic named Henry?” he whispered.
“I’m not going to argue about this with you without certainty especially with who this came from. I don’t trust Sam, you know that. You either come Thursday or you don’t” you stubbornly responded.
“I’ll be here” his voice was cold.
Joel left you thinking over what he had said. What if it was true? But then again thinking about who it came from…it couldn’t be true. Sam must have it all wrong like he usually does.
It was Thanksgiving day as you spent the day cooking, Sarah rushed over to help you excitedly. You promised her this year you’d teach her how to make a turkey. Joel and Tommy arrived with desserts and drinks offering to help in anyway they could.
You hadn’t spoken to Joel since he had come over a few days earlier yet you could feel the slight tension with him no one else seemed to notice. After finishing up the food you ran upstairs to change before coming back down in a new brown dress you bought with black boots. Joel sat on the floor playing with Everly before Sarah’s comment caught his attention.
“Woah look at you! You look beautiful!” Joel looked up and was completely taken back, captivated by your beauty when the bell rang.
Henry had arrived.
You felt your heart racing as you opened the door. You wondered what the night would be like, how would Joel act?
“Hi” you grinned happily as Henry greeted you with a basket full of cookies and a bottle of wine.
“Oh my favorite” you sighed before tip toeing to kiss him. Joel wasn’t one with a poker face, the sight of you kissing another man wasn’t one he thought he’d ever be ready to see. Tommy nudging him on the shoulder making him snap out of it, he cleared his throat and stood up.
“Guys this is Henry, Henry, you remember Joel,”
“Of course” Henry grinned “this is his brother Tommy and his daughter Sarah”
“Well, it’s great to meet you all” he smiled as Tommy and Sarah smiled while Joel stood rather serious, focused on him.
“So-“ you spoke up awkwardly.
“Are we ready to eat?”
“Been ready” Tommy chuckled rubbing his stomach.
“Let’s eat!” Everly yelled excitedly leading the way to the kitchen. Joel stood behind watching as Henry wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you close.
“Here-“ Joel cleared his throat as he caught up to you and Henry.
“Let me give you a hand with bringing the food to the table”
“Don’t worry about it, I got her” Henry turned to him as you stood rather awkwardly between both men.
“It’s alright, Joel. Thanks” you whispered with a smile before turning toward the counter with Henry.
Joel sat down watching as Henry’s hand settled on your lower back. Sarah and Tommy could be heard joking around in the background with Everly as all of Joel’s focus fell on another man touching you. Henry’s hand slid lower eventually gliding over your ass making Joel straighten himself in his seat, his fist clenched beside his dinner plate. Henry’s hand placement did distract you but him giving your ass a squeeze was what made you gasp.
“Henry” you whispered looking over at him.
“Not in front of them please” you smiled awkwardly.
“Why not?” he chuckled still not removing his hand.
“Please, it’s there first time meeting you-“
“Worried about your ex?” He raised a brow.
“No, it’s just…can you just be respectful” Joel furrowed his brows as he noticed you gently push his hand away but that didn’t stop Henry.
“Oh give me a break” he laughed putting his hand right back where it was and pulling you toward him.
“Let’s just put the food out” you whispered before turning to the table with a smile.
“This smells delicious” Tommy spoke excitedly.
“Well, with Sarah’s help it did come out delicious” you sat beside Henry with Everly on the other side of you in a booster seat.
“Thank you for teachin’ Sarah how to make the turkey, I know it wouldn’t have been the same if I did it”
“Cause you suck at cookin’” Tommy chuckled making you laugh.
“What are you laughin’ at, you used to love my spaghetti” Joel teased, bringing back a memory that made you smile.
“That I did” you whispered almost forgetting Henry was right beside you until he placed his hand on your lap.
“Well-“ you cleared your throat, “let’s dig in.”
Tommy stood up and turned on the radio to play music so thankfully it wasn’t as silent. Everly danced in her chair as she played with Sarah before Joel decided to start asking questions.
“So how’d you two meet?” Joel looked directly at Henry wanting him to respond. It didn’t matter if you had told him, he wanted to hear what Henry had to say.
“Well, she came in one day needing to fix something in her car. I had already been seeing her since she passed by my job on days she walked to work. I’d see her drinking her coffee hoping she’d come in one day , -“ his words leaving you with a puzzled expression.
“You’d see me walking to work?”
“Mhm”
“That’s strange, because usually if I walk I take another route that wouldn’t pass your job, I mean I don’t remember passing it” you sat lost in thought as Joel leaned forward.
“That’s so weird I can’t remember-“
“Must’ve been a while ago then” Henry chuckled nervously.
“But anyway, the day you finally came in-“
“What was it that made her finally come in?” Joel asked as he took a bite of his food.
“Flat tire” he responded.
“Somehow I managed to drive over glass or something that slit it, I swear I have the best luck. I had no choice but to stop at Henry’s, it happened just as I came out of work”
“Hm” Joel squinted his eyes at Henry who looked over at you.
“Ain’t that convenient. Happen to have a mechanic right by you, huh” Joel continued. You could hear the sarcasm in his voice and looked up at him.
“I think Everly is loving the turkey” Sarah said giggling distracting all of you. You laughed looking over at your daughter but could feel Joel’s eyes on you..
Just as dinner was over everyone
moved to the living room to watch TV. Henry and Tommy lost in a conversation about football as you began cleaning up. Sarah offered to stay with Everly as Joel began to help you clear the table.
“I hope you enjoyed everything” you spoke softly without looking at him.
“Course I did” he responded without taking his eyes off you. You could tell there was more he wanted to say but before he could you stopped him.
“Look, I know what you’re thinking.” You whispered.
“He did not do that to my car-“ his shoulders tensed up as you spoke.
“it could happen to anyone” you continued.
“You don’t really believe that, do you?” He looked down at you, eyes focused.
“I’m not having this conversation anymore” you began to turn away just as he caught you by your arm when Henry entered the kitchen.
Clearing his throat standing at the doorway, Joel quickly let you go as you stood awkwardly.
“You alright?” Henry approached you ignoring Joel beside you.
“Yes, how about we try those cookies you bought?” You smiled quickly turning away grabbing the basket as Henry looked up at Joel. Joel glared at him before you turned back and led Henry out…you knew the evening was far from over….
(I’m so sorry it’s short!! I’ve been very caught up with my daughter but I wanted to post this today for thanksgiving. I’ll continue it soon! I promise. Thanks for your patience. Some tags did not work so I’m sorry if you weren’t tagged.)
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ohrandomfandom · 17 hours ago
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I kinda really love “Robiin II: Becoming the Monster” because it contrasts the brightness and excitement that “becoming the magic!” encompasses. But what I really like about it is how if there’s an emphasis throughout about his view of himself and how others see him.
Wasn’t he buried next to Sheila? Bruce focuses so hard on how Jason died(does he even know that Sheila led Jason to the joker? That he was just trying to help his mom, that he didn’t just run off recklessly and confront the joker? That at the last moment Sheila, instead of immediately running off tried to help Jason because of how selfless and brave he was but it was too late for them?) that what he remembers of Jason becomes almost warped by every small interaction that could have been a “warning sign” of what was to come. Every close call, every disagreement, every expression of anger from his child is now overshadowing who he actually was. And tbh he still loves Jason dearly and cares for him and his light and hope but after Jason’s death he becomes especially unforgiving, most of all to himself, so he’s remembering what he thinks he should have seen
From growing up in crime alley, people who don’t even know him hear that and just assume he’s violent or destined to become a criminal(probably something he hears a fair amount after he gets adopted by Bruce from higher society members and the media). Maybe he learns from Talia’s sources about how his entire memory has basically been moulded into this tragic thing. The words that travel far enough to reach him are the cruelest. Talking about how he was reckless, how him dying was inevitable, maybe about the memorial in the cave. There’s this one panel set where Talia tells catatonic!Jason that Bruce misses him and that Jason(and dick) gave him hope as Robin and he cries
How he views himself, with his going against some of the rules Batman ingrained in him. How it feels right but also like a betrayal even though he’s so angry with Bruce.
Even physically too ! Dying at 15, losing more than a year of time, did his revival or the Lazarus pit reduce the effects of any malnutrition as a kid? Did he have a growth spurt? Does his body even feel like his? It must be incredibly disorienting and dysphoria inducing to die in one state and basically emerge from that water in a body he can’t remember growing in to. Muscle memory and habits that are unfamiliar.
Becoming the monster is just him learning how to exist. How to help in a way he thinks can actually work. The joker got out and he died, he grew up seeing people get hurt after the system failed to protect them again and again and so his training and returning to Gotham was part of a plan to show that to Batman. To make a Statement that he doesn’t think that things can stay the same and get better.
Him seeing Tim in all that armour could be reinforcing his view that he wasn’t as valued/ was more disposable. Or maybe he takes this as Batman caring enough to add more protection to this new kid but not enough to get blood on his hands and stop the major threats that would endanger him the most.
Ok I’ve gone off on a super tangent and was trying to pay attention to a conversation at the same time so maybe this doesn’t make any sense or is relevant at all but I just really like “Robin 2: becoming the monster.” Jason embodying the whole “I may be a terrible person but at least I’m taking a bunch more down with me and proving a point while I do”(or at least trying to! He thinks he’s making a very good and reasonable point and this is about him so that’s what matters). And I just love imagining talias support of him through all of this being portrayed as mostly background or insignificant in the face of how much he’s Feeling except for a few small moments where like maybe it’s a flash back or a v/o of a line of her supporting him would be like <33 especially if it happens during like a scene with Bruce to set her as a contrast adult/parental figure in his new second life. Or when he’s killing someone Talias line from lost days where Jason’s like “[blah if I kill this person] don’t tell me the world isn’t better off. Why are you smiling?” And talias like “you’re learning” and he’s all intense like “yea guess I am”
Idk just Jason not thinking he’s a good person but still thinking the terrible and even monstrous things he’s doing aren’t necessarily wrong and are even good is just such an important part of his character and I love that for him and that title was just yesssss and I could talk about Jason for hrs and I’m not going to edit this so I’m so sorry if it doesn’t make sense but your brain is so big and this thread is wonderful
There's a post about wanting a story about Jason's time as Robin. I made a reblog of it so long ago, but I can't stop thinking about it.
I want to watch Jason's flight as Robin, but the entire story he's haunted by the future we all know is going to come.
When he first grabs his tire iron, he has the choice of taking a crowbar instead.
Subtle purples or greens pop up when he's in danger (but not necessarily the Joker).
He frees a bird trapped inside a warehouse.
He rescues a kid who was kidnapped by their mom and returns them to their dad.
So many dead or injured birds
While helping Alfred with gardening, he breaks a nail
Gun magazines at many scenes
Motorcyclists wearing red helmets
Someone's bubbling jacuzzi has a green light on
Duffle bags
He helps hold a bandage to someone's neck until paramedics arrive
Jason reads Frankenstein while at the Manor
An ad proclaims their coffins to be the sturdiest
Just his Robin story being jammed packed with foreshadowing.
It'd also be rad to have Easter Eggs:
Someone makes a comment about assassin kids
When talking to Bruce about something, on the batscreen is a very short file about "One Who is All"
Someone at a gala mentions the Drakes' newest archeology find
Kids at Jason's school chat about meta powers and how cool controlling light is
When visiting the hospital, the nurse introduces herself as Crystal
The buildup of the audience watching Jason, who's unaware of his future, continuously face sign after sign after sign? The irrational hope that maybe someone will notice the universe basically screaming about the future? Nobody notices as more and more signs pop up. It's maddening but so intriguing.
Jason's story of Robin would follow him as he goes from being desperate to survive to thriving. His paranoia that it's too good to be true thrums in his veins, but he learns to ignore it. He's fed, loved, and flies over Gotham every night. There's conflict, sure, but he's figuring out. It's okay.
The signs start out slow and subtle. As he starts to reach towards the end, they get more and more obvious. They occur more often.
Jason doesn't know when it all goes wrong, but he's figured it out before.
We don't see him lose hope until the very end.
EDIT:
Here's the og post I was referencing
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