#let him have it 1991
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#movies#polls#let him have it#let him have it 1991#let him have it movie#90s movies#peter medak#christopher eccleston#paul reynolds#requested#have you seen this movie poll
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Have you ever thought of exploring Drake & LP’s friendship beyond their work of being hero & sidekick?
Mmmm, Personally, I don't think it would change much if they're working or not, since Launchpad tends to be pretty true to himself. Drake not so much, but around Lp, he tends to be quite honest with himself as well. I'm gon ramble a bit about something that bothers me a little when it comes to how the franchise sometimes treats their dynamic. n then go back to the q at the end! (◔‿◔)
One thing I've noticed, and it was incredibly apparent in the new 'Darkwing Duck' comics; was how easily Launchpad is dismissed. In one of the earlier issues (can't remember each one SOZ) Drake states he was going to retire his hero work again and in response to that fact, Launchpad walks out–to find a 'job' elsewhere. Which I think is incredibly absurd. But what's more absurd, is the fact that Drake AND Gosalyn just let him walk out. (DID WE FORGET THE EVENTS OF 'U.F.FOE' OR 'INHERIT THE WIMP'. Gosalyn was so upset by the idea of Launchpad leaving her life, to the point of tears / close to tears.) I just think it's out of character, even if they don't follow the same universe.
The second thing is the episode of 'Dead Duck'. 'Drake dies' and Gosalyn and Lp are left alone. While it isn't explored too much, Gosalyn is now entrusted to Launchpad. Pair that with the fact that that entire episode was Drake's subconscious (unconscious state), it means Drake is actually relying on Lp. He knows something might happen, and he trusts Launchpad to keep his little girl safe. Even if in another episode (?) Launchpad states he'd do just that "take care of Gos as if she were my own" and Drake is hesitant. "Don't give up your day job yet, buddy." Even if he doesn't acknowledge just how important Lp is to him, subconsciously he relies on his friend a lot.
Lastly, it's the episode of 'Time and Punishment', which honestly deserves its own post to ramble about but anyways. Just after Gosalyn disappeared, we were shown Drake in an awful state. Barely doing anything on his own, depressed and grieving. Launchpad stayed and tried hard to distract him (which is a good idea tbh, because a couple times has 'distracting' himself been a way to cope. Especially in this episode.) We also see Launchpad free, roaming amongst the patrolled streets of St. Canard. Which I think is interesting. Darkwarrior has locked away so many people for the most mundane things and yet he allowed Lp to roam free for so long. Subconsciously, at least for a while–he still cared a little for him. Even he, DARKWARRIOR didn't completely throw him away. (I'm a BIT salty about that comic volume😮💨)
Anyways.
I think, beyond their hero work, they'd be incredible close. They're a family and that's been expressed a lot. They need each other too. Even if we were to erase the hero/ sidekick job for one second, their characters go beyond that. They both have their desperate need to be needed and wanted, and not to mention how well they bounce off each other. With Lp not taking much to heart and often letting Drake rant and sulk without complaint. Drake needs someone like that. Drake needs someone in his corner to help him out of his little depressive episodes, give advice, to remind him of mundane things like PT meetings. Whereas Launchpad needs to be needed and to help (which was explored). And he would most definitly be needed in a family setting.
They really are a lot more than just Hero/Sidekick. They're family and it's hard to break that bond. The trust in one another is very strong. Drake would keep Launchpad around, raising Gosalyn because he's just as important to her as Drake is. Both characters bring out the best in each other, so I don't think Lp would be quick to leave, nor do I think Drake would be quick to let him go.
uhh yeah
basically, i feel their dynamic would remain the same. If anything, the hero/sidekick thing makes it stronger. Hope this answered it okay, ik I kinda went off and rambled about something semi-related, but I think it was important to point out :)
#another long reply#chat i have sm to say#i remember reading the new comics and kinda getting thrown off by how easily they all let Lp go#i dont think thats fair on him#Launchpad is an important character#he appears in the majority of the episodes#anyways#them for ever and ever#darkwing duck#darkwing duck 1991#drake mallard#launchpad mcquack#dwd91#another keegan rant
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omg hello!! I saw you post those vox headcanons and wow I was literally kicking my feet and giggling LOL. I also saw you take requests right now! (at least that’s what it said in your rules) and I wanted to request something : D
could I request general alastor headcanons with a GN! Reader please ? :D
Thank you!
General Dating Headcanons | Alastor
a/n: Of course my dear!! I love how Alastor is portrayed in the series, he’s easily one of my favorite characters! I’ve been wanting to do these for quite a bit, so thank you for the request!
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Wordcount: 1991
Cw: Hazbin Spoilers, minor violence, mentions of death, murder
(PLATONIC):
Ah so you managed to capture the attention of the infamous Radio Demon? You should be honored he even considers you worth his time! Not most demons have that luxury, they never live long enough to see.
Al strikes me as the kind of guy who knows everyone, he’s very observant and has eyes everywhere (his shadow friends extend throughout the entirety of the pride ring). He’s got connections in just about anything. He’s bound to have at least seen you once.
That being said, he views other sinners as inferior to him, if you don't have any power, he doesn't really see you as much of a threat (let’s be honest even if you did, he still wouldn't feel threatened)
He’s quite intrigued when he sees a frail little thing like you walk through the hotel doors. You're here on your own free will, seeking redemption? Oh, this will be quite entertaining.
You’re well aware of who he is, having been in hell for quite some time, even before his 7 yearlong disappearance, you knew to be wary in his presence.
It often left you being timid or skittish around him at first.
The deer demon had a knack for popping up at the most inconvenient of times, out of nowhere it seems (perks of being able to shadow travel). He would scare the daylights out of you nearly every time. Whether it was intentional or not, it always got a good laugh out of him.
And that smile…He was always smiling, you can't ever recall a moment where he wasn't, not even a falter. It's definitely an intimidation tactic you think. After all, you're never fully dressed without one!~
Despite this, he’s a charmer. He has this flare about him that oozes confidence whenever he speaks with you, to anyone really. He’s able to talk his way into and out of anything. One of the many perks of being a showman. Alastor is witty, charming and entertaining to say the least. Life is never dull with him around.
And if you happen to be from the same time period?? It’ll only want him to be around you even more! Finally, someone he can relate to in this cesspool.
This man is quite the chatterbox. He looooves to reminisce about the good ol’ days, always talking about how things were in his radio days. He could talk for literal hours and not break a sweat. You’ll often have to politely interject when he rambles on for too long, not that he minds.
Did I mention he can cook too?? Really well, surprisingly. He claims he learned from his dearest mother. He had to put a name to her famous Jambalaya recipe! When you tried it for the first time your socks were nearly blown right off from how much cayenne pepper he put into it. He likes a little spice.
He's!! Always!! Humming!! The man loves to sing, he often finds himself absentmindedly humming old tunes from the 20’s as he goes about his day. Whether he’s out for a stroll, enjoying a nice cup of tea, or running around the hotel, he’s humming.
This has been stated before, but Alastor is not big on physical touch from others unless he's the one initiating it. There have been many times where he’s pulled you into a little dance or twirl while he explains something. It never fails to surprise you each time.
He’ll often use his microphone staff to push or touch something, more specifically someone. He doesn't like to touch sinners that often, God knows where they’ve been. You’ve seen him whack Angel upside the head with it before, the spider tried getting a little too close for comfort. But for you he’ll make an exception.
Very well groomed!! He puts a lot of effort into his appearance, and cares about how he projects himself to the public eye. His hair is always neatly styled to perfection, shoes shined, and is always dressed to the nines. I mean did you see how mad he got when Pentious ripped a part of his coat off?
As the two of you begin to spend some more time together, you find yourself often having little meetups, the both of you would chat, share a cup of tea and just enjoy each other’s company. He liked to sit on the patio, he had a little table, and everything set up for you two.
Alastor makes sure to keep an eye on you regularly. He may have his shadow sneak around and stalk you while you're out. He’ll use the excuse that ‘Hell is a dangerous place!’, He can't have some low-life sinner trying to harm you, that would make him a terrible friend!
Undeniably has a soft spot for you that he’ll never admit aloud, he genuinely enjoys your company and likes having someone around that will humor him and listen to his stories. Grandpa.
Overall, Al is quite a good friend to have, you feel like you can confide in him at any point, he’s surprisingly a wonderful listener. The more time you spend together only strengthens your little friendship. Even to the point where you both will grow to have a mutual respect for each other. He initially scared you at first, given his reputation, but underneath all the ruthless chaos is a true gentleman.
(ROMANTIC):
My man is sooo conflicted at first, He’ll spend hours in his den thinking about his feelings. (We’ve all seen the inside of his room, literally half of it is a swamp). The scenery can only soothe him so much as he contemplates on what to do.
This is probably where you will begin to less and less of him for a time being as he works out his inner turmoil.
But, once he finally comes to terms with these undeniable feelings, he decides to confront you privately, away from any prying eyes. Ahem Angel…
Very old-fashioned, this is where he will properly ask to court you.
You’ll never know this but he was actually kind of nervous, he was worried you’d reject his offer, but imagine to his surprise when you said yes!! He kind of felt giddy.
Congratulations! You now have a cannibalistic deer overlord as your boyfriend
He’s such a gentleman, I literally cannot say it enough, the man was raised right and he respects you!
You literally never have to open a door with him around. He holds your chair out for you, always walks on the outer side of the sidewalk, pays for every meal and is constantly giving you compliments left and right. And they say chivalry is dead.
Alastor loves to gift flowers to you. Every few weeks or so he’ll give you a new bouquet. They're different each time, some have a meaning while others he simply thought you’d enjoy. You have a special place in your room where you keep them.
Now that you’re in a relationship, the two of you are basically joined at the hip. Wherever you are, Alastor is not far behind. He doesn't want to admit it but the overlord is kind of clingy. He doesn't like being too far from you.
If there’s ever a reason he has to be away from you, he’ll often have a few of his little imp dolls watch after you. You always thought they were cute little fellas anyways.
The both of you aren't exactly private about your relationship, but at the same time you’re not screaming it out from the rooftops either. Alastor is well aware of the dangers you could possibly face due to his status. He’s made a lot of enemies in his time, and doesn't want to see you get hurt on his behalf.
That being said though, no demon in their right mind would try to threaten you.
God forbid they touch you either. They’d be ripped in half before they could even get another word out.
He's fiercely protective over you. He tries to play it off as nonchalantly as possible, but you know he cares about you immensely, it’s rather sweet really.
Now about physical affection. Things will go very slowly in the beginning, as said before he's fine with things as long as he's the one initiating it. If you two are out for a stroll you’ll have your arm gently looped with his as you walk down the chipped sidewalks. You’ll have to be extremely patient with him, he’s not used to this “love” and “affection”
If you’re ever having a bad day however, he’ll slip out of his comfort zone for you, and allow you to hold onto him for as long as you please, in the privacy of your own room of course.
One of his favorite things to do with you, is to slow dance. There's something so intimate and special about it. It could be late into the evening, when everyone else had gone to their respective rooms for the night, If you listen closely though, you’ll hear the soft hum of music coming from Alastor’s den, he has you in his arms, the both of you gently sway in a slow waltz across the room to the quiet love songs emitting from his radio. It’s here that you truly savor these private moments with him.
Speaking of music, Al loves to sing to you. Oftentimes it may be a ballad or love song, and if you join in with him? He’ll fall for you even more.
Cooking! He loves to whip up all his favorite dishes just for you, oftentimes you’ll help him in the kitchen, even if it’s the smallest thing. It's become an annual thing you two like to do together. He makes sure that you get only the best meat that this side of hell can provide.
He’ll often call you a mix of different pet names, here's a few of his favorites: Cher, Darling, Beloved, Dearest, Love, Mon Amour, Doll
Which btw on the topic of meat, Al is canonically a cannibal, he’ll often eat demon meat in his meals, and will have you try it at least once.
Admittedly has gotten slightly jealous of his own shadow. The mischievous thing was always trying to steal your attention away from him, oftentimes it would work, you would always give in and humor him, saying that ‘Even his shadow needed some loving too!’. With a strained smile, Alastor shoots a glare at the inky mass of himself, who just looks at him with a smug grin.
Will have you meet Rosie at least once. She’s one of his other closest friends, and a real sweetheart. At first she comes off as really scary and intimidating. but the more you get to know her, and she's for certain that you wont hurt her friend, she’s much more friendlier.
You two actually bond together somewhat, having little chats about Alastor occasionally, or about her business.
It’s safe to say that this man would kill hundreds if not thousands for you. You have him wrapped around your little finger. If you ever have someone bothering you, they might as well already be dead, because this man will hunt them down like prey. And eat them too.
Honestly, Alastor as a lover is nothing short of wholesome. He’s so attentive and caring when it comes to you. Which is so refreshing to see, especially coming from one of hell’s most feared overlords. Things will most likely start of slow, but if you’re patient with him, all the hard work will be rewarded tenfold. He had initially thought the Princess of Hell’s Hotel was one of the biggest jokes of the century, but what he wasn't expecting was you to be one of the best things to come out of it. You both were cast down to suffer an eternal damnation in hell, but at least now you can endure it together <3.
#x reader#headcanons#dating headcanons#hazbin#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbinhotel#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor the radio demon#the radio demon#alastor#alastor x reader#gender neutral reader
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Knock, Knock
Billy Loomis x Fem!Reader x Stu Macher
(NSFW)
This is my first time writing oneshot, let alone smut. English is not my first language so bear with me.
Warning: Reader is a Virgin, Cussing, alot of cursing, knife play, mask kink, bondage, fingering, cunnilingus, deep throat, anal, threesome, and double penetration.
*Bold - Voice modulator, Italic - inner voice
“Hello?”
“Hello.”
You furrowed your eyebrows. You didn't recognize this deep voice talking to you.
“Who’s this?” Instead of hanging up, your gut feeling tells you to continue the conversation with this stranger. Maybe you’ll get something out of it.
“You don’t need to know about me. I just want to talk to you.”
“Now why should I do that? Stranger danger. Didn’t your parents teach you that?” You saunter around the kitchen counter and stare at the sets of kitchen knives. You pull out a cleaver and wait for them to reply.
The stranger chuckled, amused with your response.
“Just want to call you so I get to know you better.”
You poked your tongue inside your cheek. You put the knife back in its place, humming to yourself.
“Alright, Mr Stranger. You got my attention and I'm bored as hell. Shoot your million dollar question.” You leaned your back on the counter, hand in pocket while another's still holding the phone.
“Tell me, do you like scary movies?”
“Uhh, yeah.”
“What’s your favorite scary movie?”
“Does The Addams Family count? 1991 is the best.” You shrugged, checking your nails. The voice grumbled, annoyed with your movie choice.
“That’s not even a scary movie. And it’s a kid show.”
“Excuse me, that movie is my fave and you don’t get to judge my beloved Morticia Addams just because I watch a ‘kid show’. Besides, that movie is still considered horror okay. Take examples like Tim Burton’s production. Even though most of his movies are suitable for children, he still wants to insert horror elements so they could find comfort and won’t make them feel scared anymore. You should try Nightmare before Christmas or maybe Edward Scissorhand for starters.” you jested.
“Not my kind of style. Edward is weird as fuck.”
“Oh now you’re crossing the line Mr. Nobody. Fun fact for you, Johnny Deep with or without heavy makeup is hot as fuck. Hell, if there’s any Johnny copycat out there, I’ll ride his dick straight away.” you mused. The audacity of this guy.
The stranger hummed.
Is it creepy that I can see him smiling through the phone?
“You should be careful what you wish for. It might come true.”
“Then, Amen for that. I ain’t regret what I said so if you have a problem with it, you jerked your tiny dick somewhere else.”
He chuckled darkly.
“So, do you have a boyfriend?”
"What if I have one? Or maybe a girlfriend? What ya gonna do about it?” You rolled your eyes.
The phone went dead silent until a deep growl came out on the line. His voice changed to menacing.
“You don’t have a boyfriend. You’re not even lesbian.”
“Slow down tiger. I can change my preference wherever I want. Anyway, congratulations! You’re successful become from a total stranger to a fucking creep. Now no more games with me. What do you want?” You huffed, getting annoyed and a little creep out with his manic voice.
“Oh baby, you think this is a game? I’ll play a real game for ya. Knock, Knock.”
You yelped when you heard someone banging on your front door.
Shit. Wrong move.
You pull out a metal bat under the counter like you knew this would gonna happen and check around, especially every closed door inside the house. You already watched too many horror movies with Randy that you even know where the killer always comes out from.
“I ask you want more time. What the hell do you want from me?”
“You wanna know, you have to play the game with me.”
You jumped when you heard another banging. And this time, at your backyard.
“Knock. Knock.”
You gulped and took a glimpse at your back. As you saw nobody's there, you pressed your back on the wall and focused on the front door.
“Who’s there?”
You make sure all the doors and windows are already locked as your father went out training with his buddies. He says he will be coming home late.
Double. Shit.
“Johnny.”
You innerly scoffed. Oh he likes this game too much.
“Johnny where?”
“Clever girl. Guess.”
You rushed to the front door and took a look outside from the window. No one was there. You blurted out the answer.
“The backyard.”
“Wrong.”
You shrieked as the sound of a crash came out from the living room. You ran there to see a big gape hole at your now shattered window. You scanned the whole room. Only one wooden chair and shattered glass all over the floor.
He couldn’t make it inside that fast. You raised the phone as you heard his voice.
“I give you a second chance. Knock, knock.”
“Oh fuck you with your knock knock shit game! What do you want from me?!”
“I want you…to ride me.”
You inhaled sharply at his answer as you turned around with a bat raised in front of you.
“You’re messing with the wrong person here.” You spitted. He chuckled mockingly, amazed that you still have a bit of spite even though you know you're about to lose the game.
“You should be asking where I am, (Y/N).” He enunciated your name deeply.
Sweat trickle down your temple as you took a step back one at the time. This stranger knowing your name just shot up your nerve haywire.
“Where the fuck are you shithead.”
“Behind you.”
You turned around and hit the phone right to the side of his face.
His Ghostface leather mask to be exact.
He covered his head from the hit with his gloved hand and you took that opportunity to bash his head with your metal bat. He doubles in pain as you hit his back with more force and knocks his feet to the floor. He lay on his back, gripping his back painfully as you stepped on his body.
“Now let’s see who's behind the mask.”
Before you could bend down to grab his mask, the air got knocked out from you as someone rammed from your side. Your head got slam on the floor hard followed by a body that stumbled right above you.
There’s two of them?!
You tried to pry him off from you but it was no use. You could see from your blurred vision that two masked men were now crowded right in front of you.
The first guy above your head took both of your hands and held them tight, giving out a painful moan from you, while the other one sat on top of your low waist between his thighs, securing your legs from moving.
You tried to trash your body only to feel a sharp knife under your throat. You looked up to see the second guy shaking his head.
A warning.
“Looks like you lost the game.” Second ghostface seems satisfied seeing you beneath him. The knife in his hand trailed lower and lower to your neck. You could feel a prick of pain as the knife cut deep at your collarbone.
“Losers need to pay the price.” The first ghostface giggled, bringing out a rope from his black robe and tied your hand above your head.
“Two against one? Really fair, does it?” You gritted your teeth. Even though you’re already at their mercy, your mouth still runs like a goddamn sailor.
“Didn’t know this should be a fair game.” Second ghostface shrugged, still lingering his knife around your neck area.
“So what? You gonna kill me?”
“Careful, you shouldn’t challenge a killer with a knife. Now you said it, that does sound tempting.” The killer dragged down his knife to your waist. The cold of his blade sent chills down your spine as it put pressure on your stomach, emphasizing his words.
You gulped as you eyed the two ghostface. The one that sat on top of you seems like a person you don’t want to mess with. The way his voice held authority, meaning if he wants to kill you, he’ll make sure you’re good as dead. Even though he’s wearing a mask, you could feel his hot gaze on your throat to your collarbone that already bleed out from the small cut. His gloved hand reached out, smearing your oozing blood with his thumb. He loves it, you can tell.
Another one above your head, however he's a different kind of persona. He seems to like goofing around and having fun stabbing his victim. More sadistic, more of an unhinged bastard. If he takes his mask off, you bet he'll be that funny, easy going guy. His head tilted to the side, staring at your body in awe. Like you'll become his biggest meal tonight.
"But since you beat my friend here, I'll give you a chance. If you want to live, you need to do something for me." He hinted at the end of his sentence. The first Ghostface started to laugh hysterically.
Somehow you know what he meant, knowing what they're gonna do to you.
"What do you mean?" You shuddered.
In a split second, he pulled your body and switched position, making you on top of him. You could feel the bulge between your legs as his hands gripped your waist.
"You know what I meant."
Your whole body shivered in fear and excitement. You don’t know why your body react that way. Fear, yes but also excites you?
You already soaked in your panties, though it was the adrenaline of the chase.
You subtly rubbed yourself on his groin. He sighed in content as you kept rubbing his hard on.
“That’s it, babe.” His breath ragged as both his hands moved your hips and pressed deeper to his crotch. His hips thrust to your core, making you let out a soft moan.
You feel someone's hand held the back of your head, turning you to meet the first Ghostface. His gloves were already gone from both hands, as he’s working on to half-done his zipper jeans.
“Open your mouth, kitten." He slipped his thumb, pressing your lips to open. He inserted two fingers in and out as you swirl your tongue around his fingers. They were so long that you gagged as it reached at the back of your throat. When he pulled out his fingers, a string of saliva coated them.
“I’ve never done this before.” Your face was red, embarrassing to admit that you never had sex before.
“We know you’re a virgin.” He whispered. His thumb stroking your lower lip, his mask titled to the side.
“Don't worry about that. We promise to make you feel good, m'okay?" The Ghostface under you sat up, his hand tugged teasingly at your waistband while the other one caressed your cheek. His deep voice is surprisingly tender, luring you in like a moth to his flame.
Without thinking, you nodded at his words.
Beneath those masks, their smirk grew wider, finally getting you hooked with them.
"Lift your hips for me, baby."
He tore his gloves from his hands and guided your hips upward. As you stand on your knees, he tugged down your shorts and panties in one go. You gasped at how rough, desperate he wanted to strip you naked.
He took out his knife and started to rip them in half. You shiver from the cold as your clothes discard aside.
A pair of hands from behind reach out to your breast and fondle them. You whimpered as he pulled and squeezed your nipples. Another hand slipped to your wet cunt, thumb circling your clit.
"Gosh, your pussy is so wet for us. We're just getting started." He mused. Slowly, he inserted two fingers inside you, thumb still rubbing your clit. You shuddered, your back laid on someone's chest, who still continued grasping your breast.
"Look at you, seeking pleasure from two psychotic serial killers. Ain't ya a dirty little slut." The one from behind cackled in manic, enjoying seeing you completely vulnerable for him.
You subconsciously ride your hips with his fingers inside you, reaching your high. Your tied arms pressed in front of his chest as his friend from behind starts to dry hump your ass. You could imagine how big their dicks are, one pressing from the back while the other one underneath your pussy, still finger fuck you.
As if they knew you're about to come, he pulled out his fingers. You let out a small whine, feeling the loss of your pussy to be filled. He dip his finger beneath his mask, groaning in pleasure as he tasted your juices with a mix of blood.
Your hair got clutched from behind and dived you to his tent. When he pulled down his boxer, you were awestruck at how thick and veiny his hard rod is. He tapped his dick on your mouth, precum smeared at your lower lips.
"Like what you see?" He chuckled, seeing you looking at his cock like that got him more turned on.
You flustered, eyeing the two black holes resemble eyes staring at you, silently to gain his permission. He nodded, pushing his tip further into your lips.
You subtly open your mouth, licking his precum and heard his deep groan in return. This made you sucked and licked his tip and moved your hand up and down his length.
He tilted his head back. Though you couldn't see with his mask on, a sense of pride grew in you, pleased to see him feel that way.
"You're sure this is your first time? Fuck, this feels amazing." He bucked his hips in your mouth.
"Open your mouth wide open, tongue down. I'm a deep throat till you swallow all of my cum." You do as he said. He thrust his dick deep in your throat, making you gagged but you held it in.
He fucked your mouth relentless, both his hands keeping you in place. Tears pooling down your face as saliva spilling from your mouth until your nose touches his pelvis. You tapped his thigh, coughing up when he pulled out his dick from your swollen lips.
You're too focused on the man in front of you, that your ass was raised in the air and gasped as you felt a tongue licking at your entrance.
"Damn I can eat this pussy all day." He growled from behind, licking and biting your clit. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as his tongue does wonders to you.
You gagged as he pounds in and out of your mouth, while from behind a tongue lick deep in your entrance. His nose teasing your clit, earning you a moan vibrating through the dick in your mouth. Both of them release low moans, reaching their high.
You tap his thigh, pull you away from his dick as you feel a knot in your stomach.
"I-I some-something d-down there." You cried out, feel his friend's wet tongue thrust in and out of your cunt. You gasped from sensation, as he's licked your rim hole.
"Then cum all over his mouth, princess. Let him taste every drop." He strokes his dick as you stick your tongue out to his tip. You feel your release as the man behind lapping your juices clean.
"God, she tastes so good. I wanna fuck her wet cunt till she's scream."
The killer in front of you didn't say a word, staring at his friend
"You can't have her. She beat you up, remember?"
"The fuck that's supposed to mean? We won, she lost."
"Correction, you get beat to a pulp and I'm the one stopping it. So, I get the prize and you just, I don't know. Enjoy the show?"
"I'm already hard and you’re telling me just to watch you all over her? Hell no man!"
They way they're talking about you like you aren't there bothers you, but at the same time kind of hot.
You could tell his friend was frustrated, agitated while him with you on his lap stroking his tip to your folds. You whimpered as he nudged his face mask closer to your neck. You could feel his wet tongue licking and sucking at the cut he gave you.
Deep down you know your choice terrifies you but you don't want his friend left behind.
"There's two holes for a reason, ya know." You mumbled low, but somehow both killers caught on to what you said. They both were stunned. Not long after, the one you sit on his lap snickered darkly.
"You're one dirty little virgin. Didn't know you're into that." He gripped your hips closer to his already hard crotch. You blushed at his indication.
Truth is, you stumbled upon a porn magazine from Stu's wardrobe, asking you for his sweatpants as he was in the bathroom. Curiosity kills you when you open the magazine, the page showed a blond woman penetrated by two men, dick in her cunt while another in her ass.
The image haunted you yet deep down you want to know how it feels like, to get banged by two. As you stare at her lustful face, you jump when you hear Billy's voice from outside Stu's room. So, you threw away the magazine and hastily grabbed his shorts. When Billy enters the room, he stares at you intensely. He always does every time you're in his sight. He raised an eyebrow as you gave the shorts, muttered, "Give it to Stu, he wants it." and you made a mad dash out of his room.
You know for the fact that the chances you're getting DP is slim to none. But seeing as of now, your fuzzy brain was like why not.
"You're an angel, you know that? That's why you're perfect for us." The frustrated Ghostface was now like he's in cloud nine when you told him that, hugging you from behind.
"You're meant for us, (Y/N). Remember that." The one with you on his lap was now laying down on the floor, bringing you with him so that your pussy was placed right on his outstretched cock. As his tip penetrated your entrance, you whimpered as the slight discomfort got you. As your tied arms gripped the black cloth of his front, his hand teasing your clit, trying to distract you from the pain.
As he is completely inside you, the discomfort was replaced slowly with pleasure, fullness from his thick length. His sighed in relief, loving his dick snug deep in your pussy like a vice.
"Fuck you're so tight, baby." He rasped as he helped adjust his length inside you. When he felt you ready, he slowly thrust in and out of you, making you moan.
"You like that? You like riding this cock?" His slow thrust became erratic as he rammed your throbbing cunt. Your mouth gaped open, couldn't reform words when he hit you at the right spot.
"Y-yes, right there. Shit! You're so big." You uttered breathlessly, bouncing his dick as he thrust deeper in you.
As you ride him, you feel another one trying to penetrate your asshole. You jumped at the sudden intrusion, stopping you as he continued to push in, hissing at your shoulder.
"S-shit! My cock gonna cut in half if you keep squeezing me like that." He buried his face on your neck as he roughly thrust you in one go, making you scream.
"M'sorry babe. Can't help it."
You try to glare at his face, or more precisely his mask. You could imagine his stupid grin, staring at you adoringly.
This is too much. For you, a virgin and never been fuck let alone anal, this is a lot to take in. You could feel their dicks stretched inside every hole of you down there. You try adjusting to this new stimulation. They’re both moving in sync, in and out of you, feeling both of their dicks rubbing your wall one at the time. It makes you see stars as they fasten their phase.
Skin slapping filled the room, with your moan and their groan in a mix.
“Fuck fuck fuck I’mma cum!” You feel his hand gripping your hips as his thrust turns sloppy. Your body started to shake as the one beneath encircled his arms around you, keeping you close to his chest as he slammed you hard on your g-spot.
You nearly scream from pleasure as orgasm washed over you, followed by the one behind, pumping his seed into your throbbing asshole. Your pussy tightens is all it needs from the one beneath you to paint his cum on your walls.
He gave his one hard, second thrust at your asshole then pulled out his softened cock. The way he stared at his cum spilling from your ass stirred something inside him.
His fingers subconsciously slipped his overflow cum inside your hole. For some reason, he doesn’t want a single drop of his seed leaking out of you.
You take a deep inhale as your eyes flutter close, trying to calm from your euphoric state. You could hear his heartbeat thumping as your head laid on his chest, with him too catching his breath.
The only thing you remember is feeling a peck on your forehead and a kiss from your nape, with a deep raspy voice you manage to hear before exhaustion overtook your body.
“That’s my good girl.”
After you pass out…
“Man, that’s the best thing happen in my life!” Stu sighed, satisfied as he pulled off his Ghostface mask and slipped in his now soft dick in his pants. He looked over at his friend who was still lying on the ground with their favorite girl on top of him.
“You're lucky I came up with this plan. Knew it our girl had same fantasies like us.” He grinned, smiling like an idiot, while Billy too slowly took off the mask.
“If you didn’t pull out that porn magazine, she wouldn’t even think about it, genius.” He murmured as he stroked your arm. He sighed in relief with his eyes closed, hearing your soft snores calmed him.
Maybe they could pay you another visit, and it will be on nice bed this time.
And sure as hell he'll make sure of that.
#billy loomis#stu macher#billy loomis x reader#stu macher x reader#ghostface x reader#poly ghostface x reader#billy loomis x reader x stu macher#billy loomis x stu macher x reader#scream 1996#scream fanfic
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—seven days [ epilogue ]
pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader
summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.
warnings: mentions of death and suicide.
author's note: here's the epilogue and the end end of the seven days series. thank you everyone for showing love to this fic! i was honestly so overwhelmed by the sheer amount of all of you. also, i apologize for all the broken hearts i caused after posting chapters 4-7. stay safe yall! i'll rest my fingers for real now. my doctor wasn't very happy with me. NOT BETA READ. NOT EDITED.
tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1 @evie-119 @spideylovin @harianaswhore @formulaal @landorris @onecojg @leclercdream @vicurious28 @c-losur3 @spookystitchery @0710khj @strollnstroll @justab-eautifulmess @ssrcsm @seasonswinter @kravitzwhore @mycure156 i hope i didn't forget anyone
masterlist.
Julio [Name] was not an ambitious person. He didn't have dreams or concrete plans in life. But in 1985, his first dream was born. He wanted to be an F1 racer after reading about the Portuguese Grand Prix in a local newspaper where he saw a Brazilian racer even younger than him participate in it and winning it. Ayrton Senna was the racer’s name, twenty-five years old. At that time, Julio [Name] was the same age.
He immediately searched for the nearest karting track. He brought his then girlfriend, Sally Kingston, a dental student in USC, to the kart zone for their date. It was safe to say that driving was not exactly his forte. He crashed his rental kart and had to pay the damages. He was afraid that he made himself a loser in front of the Sally Kingston, the richest, prettiest, and nicest girl from L.A., and that she wouldn't wanna go out with a bumpkin like him anymore, but she had only laughed at him—her eyes turning into little crescents, showing too much teeth and gums—and from then and there, he knows he’s going to marry Sally Kingston one day. He might not have become a F1 driver, but he ended up marrying the girl of his dreams.
Him and Sally welcomed a son in 1991. They named him Damiano and he turned out to be a carbon copy of his beloved wife, not that Julio was complaining. When Damiano turned five, Julio brought him in the kart zone and let him try driving the kart. Damiano adored it so Julio signed him up for racing school. Three weekends later, Damiano got sick of driving around in circles so he stopped. Sally gave birth to a daughter in the same year—1996.
Five years later, he brings [Name], his mija, into the kart zone. He expected that you’ll be like Damiano, too, getting sick of the thing after three weekends or so. You didn't. You loved karting and going fast, almost dangerously so. You lasted five weekends so Julio signed you up for the kart zone’s junior racing school and you were their first female member. You won your first race when you were six, only seven months after you officially joined.
“She was born to race,” the team head told Julio. Julio then decided that he’d do whatever it takes so you could become a F1 driver.
Like his initial dream, his dream for you couldn't be brought to reality. When you were nine, you had to stop karting for financial reasons. Damiano was in high school, Rafael had leukemia, and Dominic had just been born. When Julio told you the news, you were sad but you understood why the decision was made so you never complained. You learned how to play billiards instead and your Abuelo was the one who taught you. It's cheaper than karting so Sally and Julio gave you their full support.
Julio [Name] was pleasantly surprised when you told him that you got accepted in USC’s engineering department years later. He half expected that you’d be like Damiano, who took an interest in dentistry, and was attending dental school. He was going to be a dentist like his mother. He was a perfect copy of Sally.
“If I can't be a racer, I’ll become a mechanical engineer,” you declared, head held high. Julio couldn't be anymore proud. You were living his dream.
If you asked Julio [Name] if he had lived a happy life despite not reaching his dreams, he would say yes without hesitation. He married the love of his life, Sally Kingston, now Sally [Last Name]. His first son, Damiano, had topped dental school and followed in his mother’s footsteps. His daughter, [Name], graduated with flying colors, a mechanical engineering degree under her belt and entered the motorsports industry, the first in the family to do so. (You even got him Fernando Alonso’s autograph! That's his second favorite driver!) Not only that, she volunteered at the LAFD during her college years and competed in a billiards tournament in Vegas, Australia, and the UK. You had the potential to be an international-level pool player but you didn't pursue the sport because you wanted to be an engineer. Rafael didn't let leukemia beat him and now, he’s finishing up his last year in CalTech, pursuing mechanical engineering like his older sister. A research team in Sweden had been eyeing him for a while now. Dominic, on the other hand, is steadily building a career for himself in volleyball. He was offered a sports scholarship in Harvard so, despite the fact that he’s going even farther than his siblings with no relatives near him like in L.A., Julio pushed him to pursue what he wanted. His children are his pride and joy. He spent every single day bragging about his children to his colleagues. The others had expressed their envy to him. Did Julio save a country in his last life to have such great children?
Furthermore, he’d been promoted to be the captain of Station 131 in Austin. Julio may not have driven an F1 car but he wouldn't even trade this family over anything in this world, not even the life of luxury and thrill of a Formula One Driver.
(What Julio didn't know was that Damiano had serious depression in dental school that he carried even after graduating, that you weren't accepted as an engineer in F1 and was stuck in a managerial position for the last five years, that Sweden found a better researcher than Rafael so he’s stuck suffering physically and mentally in a degree with his future unclear and cloudy, and Dominic was slowly losing passion in volleyball but it's the only thing putting him through college right now so he grits his teeth and put himself on court. No one told Julio. Julio got enough of his dreams broken already.)
Truthfully, despite working for Red Bull for half a decade, you never liked its taste. You were always the Monster Energy type of girl. It's the one drink that kept you functioning through all the all-nighters you pulled in engineering school. However, you kind of lost the palate for Monster Energy so now, here you are, standing outside a gas station mini mart in the middle of the dusty highway that leads to El Paso. You hold the chilled can of Red Bull against the side of your neck, satisfied with the feeling of something cool pressing against your skin. The temperature in Texas is going absolutely crazy this time of the year. In your other hand, two cigarette sticks balance in between your fingers. You crave the deadly nicotine. Desperately. But you're not stupid enough to smoke at a gas station because of your cravings.
Your phone vibrates and you pull it out of your pocket to see who messaged you. You snicker when you view the barrage of pictures from the Austin Grand Prix that Leo sent. A stolen shot of Logan, meme faces of Alex, the air show, a selfie with THE Fernando Alonso, and a Tiktok video with the other Williams mechanics.
You watched the race from the stands today and truthfully, you prefer watching the race in the garage than on the stands. It's unbelievably boring to be there. People pay thousands of dollars to sit under the excruciating heat of the sun and catch a glimpse of very fast cars for a nanosecond. You wouldn't even catch sight of if you blink. Nevertheless, you're happy that Leo is having the time of his life. You wish you share the same shoes.
leo: so so sad that u have to go
you: id be flattered if u actually mean it
leo: *rolling eyes emoji*
leo: i hope you choke on your beer
you: i hope you choke on the celebratory champagne
you: and i dont drink and drive
leo: good to know ur not stupid
leo: on a serious note make sure to drive to el paso safely
you: aight aight
leo: u know i have something to confess
you: if it's something stupid, don't bother
leo: ur stupid
you: fuck u
leo: shut up
leo: just wanna say i didn't break up with u bc u gave max too much attention
leo: i know that's what i said but i only said that bc i knew that u needed max to achieve ur dreams
leo: and idk i just thought max wouldn't give it to u not when im still dating u
you: that's stupid
you: max isn't like that
leo: hes in love with u
Your heart stutters. You ignore it.
you: liar
leo: i could tell u lil shit
leo: idk he looked like someone who’d hold a grudge
you: he does hold grudges
leo: and i cant allow myself to stand in between you and the one person who can give you your dream you know?
leo: i loved you enough to let you go to him
You choke on your saliva. You don't love Leo romantically anymore and you are sure that the feelings are mutual but his abrupt confession is enough to bring back the pain of loving him and letting him go all over again.
leo: u sure u won’t stay to see him?
leo: he’s the one who wants to see you the most
you: his ig messages makes me think otherwise
You're a fucking coward. A pussy.
leo: you didn't see the man [name]
leo: you don't know how empty he looks now
A shadow of guilt darkens your eyes. You quickly shove your phone into the pocket of your jacket. You open the Red Bull and take a large swig, almost draining the entire can. You exhale loudly after drinking, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You stare at the vast expanse of the dry earth before you, starting to understand the appeal of aimless road trips in the southern roads.
The world seems to be turning in slow motion now.
Ever since your father died, time feels like it was moving too fast. You arrived at the hospital half an hour after Julio was officially pronounced dead. At that time, you felt like the world was ending. Your knees gave out in the middle of the hospital hallway. Your mother’s wail echoed in your ears. Damiano and Dominic were trying to console her, both of whom were crying terribly. You stare at them, face empty despite the hurricane brewing within you. Rafael wrapped his arms around you and you held onto him as he cried uncontrollably.
Your mother possessed a weak heart. She’d grown weaker and weaker day by day after your father passed. Your father’s station held a ceremony for him to pay tribute to their fallen captain. You were the one who carried his helmet all throughout the ceremony because the entire station knew you were his most prized child. When you flipped the helmet, there was a photo taped on it. A photo of the entire family at your graduation ceremony in USC. You maintained that tired and empty stare during the entire procession. In the middle of the ceremony, your mother collapsed.
Your father’s death was the first domino to be tipped. Your mother’s collapse during the funeral was the second. From then on, everything turned to shit. Your mother had always been frail and prone to sickness so it didn’t surprise you when she had grown so weak in a matter of days. She couldn't sleep. She didn't want to eat. She lost her will to do anything else. You took her to the hospital after a week because you were afraid she was beginning to become malnourished. Damiano suggested moving your mother to El Paso, to your Abuelo and Abuela’s farm, so your mother could recuperate there, and you agreed. The entire family moved to El Paso quickly, leaving the house in Vista Del Pueblo empty and celebrated the New Year there.
You opened your phone for the first time since you landed in ATX on the 30th and a barrage of messages had been sent to you. From Daniel, Logan, Leo, Kendall, Julia. You freeze when you see Max’s name. Your finger hovers above it, hesitating. Your mind trailed back to the five years you spent in Red Bull, to all the memories with Max in it, to what happened inside his penthouse in Monaco, the jet, the night you spent in his sheets, the shoes and—
Fuck.
“Kelly,” you mumbled to yourself, typing her username in the search box. You began typing up a message. You're not mentally equipped to write a long message of apology. Your mental dictionary was not ready to use so you decided to half ass the entire message and hope for the best.
you: sorry about the breakup
you: i didn't know about the shoes
you: i didn't take it
you: im so sorry
you: i hope you're not too hurt
In truth, you loved Kelly for Max. You never had problems with her. At first, you were concerned about the great age gap between her and Max as she was even older than Danny but then you figured that you did not have a say because Leo was also younger than you, born in the same year as Max. Then, you saw how she was so caring to Max, so patient in dealing with his misplaced anger, so supportive. You saw how Max transformed into a better version of himself, something you are not even capable of doing, because of Penelope and Kelly. How he became the world's most massive girl dad without trying. You ignored every bitter feeling that sprouted on your chest because you saw Max was happy and his happiness always came first. And now, you’re here, apologizing to Kelly for taking Max away from her.
kelly: i think i’m the one who’s been taking him from you
kelly: take care of him for me
you: thank you for loving him
You can't imagine how hurt Kelly was. Imagine dating and preparing a man so he could be perfect for another girl.
you: but i can’t do what you're asking
you: not anymore
“Not anymore,” you whisper to yourself, as if uttering it to the wind would cement it as the truth.
Not anymore, Max. I’m sorry.
Rafael and Dominic told you that they want to drop out of college to help you out with Mama a few days after New Year’s. You quickly told them no, to finish college and that you could handle taking care of two senior citizens and your sickly mother and help out on the farm since you’re essentially jobless at the moment.
The third domino is Damiano. You were always aware he’d been clinically depressed, taking medications to help him get better. Whatever he went through in dental school, he carried it with him until he was working. You believed he was getting better. He was seeing a therapist for years now and you were checking up on him every day. Then, like Mama, he just…. became worse. Rafael found him submerged in the bathtub in his apartment, red painting his wrists. Had Rafael not been there at the right time, Damiano would have followed Papa Julio.
The fourth domino is Dominic. He ruined his hand in March. The doctor told him it was dangerous for him to continue playing volleyball competitively. It was either he learned how to set with only his non-dominant hand because his dominant hand is partially crippled or he stopped playing all together. He’d choose the second option with no hesitation as he had lost his passion for the sport but if he’s not playing for Harvard anymore, no one would be able to pay his fees until graduation. Not when Julio died, not when Sally was too sick to continue working, not when Damiano was currently unstable, not when you’re the only one who had been supporting the entire family through your entire savings account. Red Bull must have paid you a lot of money because you’ve been keeping the entire family afloat for months now.
The fifth domino is Rafael, who got his entire thesis overhauled so now, his graduation was out of the picture. It sucked. He’d always been expected to follow his older siblings’ footsteps, both of whom are academically excelling individuals and Rafael had been studying and studying and studying. So why was this happening to him? Why was this happening to his family?
The sixth domino was yet to be tipped over.
You refuse to fall.
You blink, suddenly back in reality when you hear a loud caw of a bird flying above your head. You shake your head, tossing the Red Bull in a nearby trash can and returning inside the mini mart. The amount of caffeine in a Red Bull isn’t enough. You need more. You need fucking coffee.
Gas station coffee sucks but you’re never the type who complains. El Paso is still eight hours away and you’re sure you're going to be driving your motorcycle the entire night just to reach the farm the next morning.
You walked towards the Yamaha XSR 155 parked in front of the mini-mart, a styro cup of coffee that’s as black as your soul and as bitter as your life in your hand. Hypnotizing swirls of steam rise from the cup. In each step you take, the key that is attached to your hip jingles.
It's a little past four in the afternoon but the darkness of the sky makes you think it's around six PM. You pocket your cigarettes and stand beside your motorcycle, hand on your hip while the other brings the cup of coffee to your mouth. A car suddenly arrives, coming to a screeching halt in front of you. You flinch in surprise, almost spilling your coffee in your hands. You hiss loudly, brows furrowing, a curse sitting on the tip of your tongue. You hear the sound of a car door opening and slamming shut and when you look up—
“Max.”
He’s still in his Red Bull overalls, drenched in sweat as if he ran to the gas station instead of driving. His hair is windswept, sticking out in multiple directions almost attractively so. He looks simultaneously distraught and relieved when your eyes met. The longing in his eyes. God. You unconsciously take a step back and turn around—a flight response—when he charges in your direction.
A strong pair of arms wrap around you from behind, stopping you from your tracks and causing your coffee to spill and fall down pathetically on the floor. You avoided the puddle, hands reaching behind you to guide Max away from the steaming liquid. But it’s too late. You saw the hot coffee touch his skin.
“Max!” you exclaim, eyes going wide. Your hand wraps around his forearm, pulling it but his grip on you tightens so you resort to tapping his arm in hopes that he’ll let go and you can inspect his injured hand and make a quick run for the mini mart for first-aid supplies.
“Max, let go,” you say, panicking. “Your hand—”
“Don’t leave,” his voice cracks.
“I won't go, okay? Let go and I’ll—”
“No,” the hug tightens and you suck in a breath. “You’ll leave again. I know you’ll leave again.”
“I’ll fix your hand. You can’t burn your hand—”
“I can endure it. Let me have this please,” he pleads. You pull his hand but Max remains stubborn. Resigned, you sigh. It turns out that you’re still the same, giving whatever Max wanted.
“I’m sorry for getting angry,” he begins. “I’m sorry for stopping you from going to Renault. I’m sorry for promising that I’d talk to Christian. I’m sorry that I didn't. I’m sorry that you had to break up with Leo because of me. I’m sorry that I realized that I fell in love with you while dating Kelly. I’m sorry for the shoes. I’m sorry for getting drunk. I’m sorry for being so selfish. I’m sorry for not considering you. I’m sorry for loving you. I’m so, so sorry, [Name]. For everything.”
His words come rapidly and frankly, you don't want to hear Max like this. Max rarely apologizes. You're not used to hearing him apologize.
“Max—”
“I called, [Name].”
You freeze.
“I called so many times. Not once have you answered. Not once—” a loud sob erupts from his mouth, interrupting him. “You always come when I call.”
You close your eyes, letting out a shaky breath.
“I sent you a message,” he continues. “To wait for me. I know I’m selfish but can I have five minutes please? Just….five?”
A pause.
“Okay,” you whisper. Max’s body trembles against yours and you stand still for a few minutes,
“Hey,” you say gently, suddenly reminded that you're standing in an open space and Max is still in his Red Bull overalls and he doesn't even have his usual cap on and this compromising situation you're both in was going to be bad for Max’s online reputation once the wrong pair of eyes manage to catch sight of you. You can already imagine what the headlines would be.
MAX VERSTAPPEN AND HIS FORMER MANAGER CAUGHT HUGGING IN A GASOLINE STATION AFTER AUSTIN GP.
MAX VERSTAPPEN AND FORMER RED BULL MANAGER IN A RELATIONSHIP?
FORMER RED BULL MANAGER POTENTIAL REASON FOR BREAKUP BETWEEN KELLY PIQUET AND MAX VERSTAPPEN?
MAX VERSTAPPEN CHEATED ON KELLY PIQUET WITH FORMER MANAGER?
MAX VERSTAPPEN, FULL-TIME WORLD TIME CHAMPION, PART-TIME CHEATING ASSHOLE.
God. You can already imagine the headache splitting the entire PR team’s skulls. The world already hates Max because of how good he was at his sport. You can’t allow people to shit on him more because of you.
“Max,” you try again, tapping his forearm so he can loosen his hold on you and you can turn around. “Max, baby, cooperate with me for a bit, yeah?”
You tug on his wrist and you can't help but sigh in relief when his arms loosen a little. He’s beginning to choke you a little bit. With his arms still around you, you pivot on your heels so you’re face-to-face with his broad chest.
When you look up to Max’s face, your heart shatters into a million pieces. His tears continue to flow and violent sobs wrack his entire body, robbing him of the ability to speak and barely allowing a breath to be drawn. He’s going to hyperventilate. Fucking dammit.
“Max,” how many times have you said his name in the last few minutes? “Hey, breathe with me.”
Your hand cradles his jaw and your eyes focused on his blue ones and fuck, they’re as insanely beautiful as you remembered.
“Breathe.”
You perform exaggerated inhales and exhales so Max can match your breaths, his hands settling on your shoulders. His palms feel heavy against your shoulders and his fingers dig deep into your skin.
“I’m here, Champ. I’m here,” you assure him. “I’m here now.”
You wait until he calms down a little and when he does, your right hand searches for his, intertwining your fingers together to assure him that you’re not going anywhere just yet. Your other hand comes up to hold the area below his neck and you slowly guide him back to his car. It’s a little difficult, Max obviously has no intention to let you go, but you know how to make things work.
Max sits on the driver's seat with you standing outside of the car. He's still clinging onto your hand and you use the other hand to hold the roof of the car for support. Max stopped crying now, staring blankly at you with a sad pout on his face. His tears are now dry, staining his cheeks.
“You okay now, Champ?” you ask, never failing to sound gentle. That's what Max needs now. Gentleness. God forbid you pull a Jos Verstappen.
Max shakes his hand, making you sigh deeply. Your eyes trail to the hands, the pale skin now an angry red.
“Max,” you call his attention. He looks up at you and you have to avoid his gaze because if you look at his face, your heart hurts. “I’ll get something from the mini-mart for your burn, aight?”
He shakes his head and his grip on your hand impossibly tightens. If he keeps this up, he’s going to break your bones.
“No.”
If you were the same person that you were in 2023, you would have let Max do what he wanted. What Max wanted, what Max shall get—that’s the philosophy you lived by. But things are different now. Leo told you that you’re allowing Max to take too much from you and Max needs to learn to actually listen to you.
You’ve been taught to treat even the most minor of burns as if it’s a major burn. That's what you are planning to do right now.
“Max,” you say, a little firmer now. “Gonna grab somethin’ in the mart real quick, you stay here, aight?”
“No—”
“Not askin’, Champ,” you interrupt him. “I'm not leavin’ yet, not goin’ anywhere until I make sure you’re okay. So stay here and wait.”
You swiftly remove the key attached to your belt and force it into his palm, “Here are my keys. I’m not goin’ to drive off and leave you here, aight? Do you trust me?”
You have a feeling that this anxiety of his might have stemmed from that one incident in his childhood where Jos left him at a gas station. Fucking son of a bitch that man was.
Hesitantly, Max says, “I do.”
“Good,” you ruffle his hair, dampening your palm.
You can see he does not like what you're doing now but he does not have any choice so he sits in the car, looking as pitiful as ever. You jog up to the mini-mart, immediately going to the beverage section to grab a bottle of water and passing by the hygiene shelf to snatch a handkerchief. You go to the counter and the middle aged guy manning the register obviously does not look impressed that you’re in his shop for the third time in the same hour, which is stupid because he should be glad that he has a customer. You put everything on the counter, pulling out some bills from your back pocket.
“You happen to have neosporin?” you ask.
“Do we look like a drug store?” he retorts. You roll your eyes, toss the bills to the cashier, and grab your items without even waiting for the guy to wrap them all up in a paper bag. You jog back to Max’s car.
“Excuse me,” you lean inside the car, opening the compartment to search for a burn cream you left inside there last year. Your eyes land on his keys, stiffening when you notice that Max kept every single gift you gave him. The bead keychain from 2020, the bottle opener keychain from 2021, the clay figure keychain from 2022, and the bracelet from 2023 sway slightly, staring back at you. You shake your head and resume doing your original mission. You find the burn cream and you immediately search for the expiration date. January 2025; it’s still good to use.
You straighten, take hold of Max’s wrist gently, and roll up his long sleeves up to his elbows. You open the water bottle and tug Max’s hand towards you so he won't get water on his car as you pour water on his burn. Once the bottle is nearly empty, you apply the cream on the reddened area of his skin. Then, you use the handkerchief, which you dampen using the leftover water, to dress it.
Max is silent the entire ordeal, watching you work your way meticulously and carefully around his hand. The same meticulousness one can expect from a former firefighter paramedic volunteer.
You step back to inspect your work, but Max’s hand stretches out towards you, grabbing the hem of your jacket.
“Sorry,” he says and yet you see his knuckles slowly turning white, which makes you unsure if he truly is apologetic or not. “Just…yeah, sorry. Can you stay for a while please?”
“Have to leave soon,” you say. “El Paso’s still hours away. I have to be there by morning.”
He nods, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, “Okay.”
“Thirty minutes, Max,” you decide. “Thirty minutes.”
You pull out your phone from your pocket to check the time and see the multiple notification bars. You type the password and direct to the message app to see the flurry of messages Max sent earlier. You have not noticed them.
max: i heard you came
max: where are you
max: please
max: can you give me ten minutes
max: just
max: please
max: wait for me
max: i’m not angry anymore
max: im begging you
max: or five minutes [name] im okay with just five
max: or even less
max: i just need to see you
“Who told you I was here?” you question, brows knitting together. There are currently two names in your head. They both start with the letter L and they both work at Williams.
“Leo called me and told me you were here.”
“Of course he did,” you roll your eyes. Logan will never dare betray you like this. You made Leo promise not to tell Max where you were in El Paso and the bitch told him where you were the moment you stepped out of El Paso. He didn't break his promise technically, but it's still a very bitch move for him to pull. You're going to have a lengthy conversation with him later.
“So you’ve been in El Paso?” he asks.
You nod.
“My grandparents’ place.”
He nods.
“Sorry about Julio, by the way.”
You sigh. God, you want to cry.
It's truly unfair how God decided to take away Julio [Last Name]. Death should happen to assholes and shitty people. To people who abuse their children every day. To people who waste years of their lifespan on nicotine and alcohol. To people who kill people. Death shouldn't happen to heroes, who risk every single day of their lives to save other people. Death shouldn't happen to Julio [Last Name], a firefighter who died saving a kid in a burning building. At least, not this early. Not until you fulfilled his dream for him.
(His last words: I don't regret doing what I did. I have kids, too. I want someone to save them the same way I did that kid if they ever get stuck in a situation like this.)
“Did Leo tell you that, too?” you hope that he didn't notice that your voice slightly wobbled.
“No,” Max shakes his head. “We—Logan and I came to Vista Del Pueblo in December. Your neighbor told us that…”
He doesn't need to finish his sentence for you to know what he’s trying to say.
You nod, “So that's why there was an article that day…”
You remember Damiano showing you the news article in his phone—AN UNLIKELY FRIENDSHIP: MAX VERSTAPPEN OF RED BULL RACING AND LOGAN SARGEANT OF WILLIAMS RACING SPOTTED DRIVING AROUND AUSTIN. You shrugged it off at that time.
“How are you?”
You turn to Max, raising a brow at his question.
“How am I?” you echo, sounding a little bewildered.
You see, Max has never asked this question. You're used to “Are you okay?” but not this. Not this question. You can easily lie to an are-you-okay. You can say yes even if you’re not, and you won't give yourself away because you only uttered one word. But with how-are-you, it’s different. It's not a question that is not answerable by yes or no. You actually have to explain how you feel. That's why Papa Julio only asked, “How are you, mija?” rather than “Are you okay, mija?” Papa Julio wants to know how your day went even if you're okay or not.
Yeah. You're definitely going to cry at this rate.
“How have you been after Julio?”
“You really wanna know?”
“I wanted to be there for you at that time,” Max confesses. “When I learned that Julio was gone, I wanted to go to you. But Leo stopped me. He said I was not what you needed at that time and I agree. I was too angry at you for leaving me. I’m glad he didn't tell me where you are, despite how painful it was. I was selfish and immature that I cared about my grief and forgot to consider yours. I reflected on my actions a lot. I am not sure how different I am now from that version of me but I think I changed a bit. So yes, [Name], I want to know, because I want to know how you felt and help you in any way I can.”
You stand there, stunned at what Max has said. And perhaps it was his sincerity or the way his determined blue eyes stare into your soul that caused the sixth domino to tip. You break into tears, a raw cry escaping your mouth. You are so fucking tired of carrying everything on your shoulders.
Max is quick to engulf you in a hug and you don't hesitate to pull him into you, pressing your face against his shoulders as you let everything out. You claw his back as if you're trying to mold himself into you. Your nose turns red, snot drips out of your nose. You sob too loud and too heavily that you can hardly draw a breath. You don't cry pretty and this is the first time you allowed yourself to cry with another person bearing witness to your fragility.
When you calmed down, you found yourself sitting beside Max, shoulder to shoulder, in the backseat of his car, playing with the drawstrings of your jacket.
“Sorry.”
“Don't be.”
“Sorry, I was just so tired,” you tip your head upwards. You can feel Max’s eyes on you. “Things have been hard since Papa died.”
“Do you want to talk? I’ll listen.”
You chuckle humorlessly.
Jesus, what did Leo feed this guy?
It feels like the roles are reversed now.
“Everybody's been takin’ it pretty hard so I'm trynna to be strong for them, you know? But I’m not that strong,” you begin. “I’m just as lost as everyone else and it's hard pretendin’ like I’m not. I’m not really sure what will happen with my life now so I wander around and do car repairs for a few folks in El Paso.”
“What happened to your dream? The job?”
“Well, it's gone,” you say, making Max’s eyes widen. “Not my time yet, I suppose. Or rather, I’m never supposed to have time. I guess I’m just not meant to be an engineer.”
“No,” Max turns to you, clasping your hands in desperation. “No, no, no. You always wanted to become an engineer. You can't just—I’ll think of something. I’ll ask Christian. I’ll ask the other teams. Renault isn't in Formula One right now but I can—”
“Max,” you smile sadly. “Let it go.”
“But—”
“Do you know what my Papa’s dream was?” you interrupt. “It’s to be a Formula One racer.”
You smile, remembering all the times you’ve seen your father watch the races on the television since you were younger. He’d wake up even in the ass crack of dawn just to watch them live. He’d be so tired after a 24-hour shift at the fire station but he’d refuse to even catch a wink of sleep until the Grand Prix broadcast is done. He always received a beating from your Mama because of it.
“He saw Senna in the newspaper and decided that he wanted to be like him, too. Sadly, Papa never vibed with a steering wheel so there was no future in that industry. He's always so disappointed in himself, sayin’ he can do the most unhinge shit at work but can't even drive a car. When Damiano and I turned five, he brought us karting. I could tell he was disappointed that Damiano didn't share his love for racing and I hated seein’ him sad so I learned to love karting. He signed me up and I did my best to win. I think I was good. Good enough to make him proud of me. Papa looked so happy when I won my first trophy. He cleaned it every week.”
You smile fondly at the memory.
“Then, shit happened and I have to stop. Papa looked even more disappointed than me that I had to stop. It hurts. Disappointment from your parents, I mean, even if I know that it's somethin’ beyond my control. I figured that if I can't be a racer, I’ll work in a pit stop. That's close enough. When I told him that I got accepted into USC and how I wanted to be an engineer, it was the proudest I have ever seen him since I won my trophy. I was livin’ his dream. I applied for Red Bull and Renault because those are Papa’s favorite teams and the rest is history.”
You pause.
“He’s never got to see me become an engineer,” you choke out, wiping the stray tear that fell from your eye with the back of your hand. “It was his dream. He always had his dreams broken and I was gonna reach his dreams for him but he’s gone before I can do so. Now, I’m so lost because I realized that I was shapin’ myself to become an extension of Papa and now that he's gone, I am an extension of no one. I was reaching for dreams that I don't own. I’m so tired and I’m so lost, Max.”
Max stares at you sadly.
“I should have talked to Christian sooner. Fuck, I hate myself for not talking to Christian. Fuck, why was I so selfish?” he presses the ball of his palms against his eyes in frustration. You chuckle, shaking your head.
“That’s okay,” you say. “I’ll find my way.”
You look at the scenery outside of the window. Night has fallen. You should have left for El Paso by now.
“I need to go,” you say, heart heavy.
“So soon?”
Max is panicking again.
“Jesus, Champ, calm down,” you pat his shoulders.
“Will I see you again?” Desperation laces his question.
“Dunno really,” you shrug.
“Can you wait for me?”
Your brows furrow.
“I’ll retire by 2028. No, that's still long. 2027. Ah no—2026? Can you wait for me? I—” Max’s hand trembles. “I love you. I love you, [Name]. I—I love you even before Kelly. I can’t. I can't lose you.”
The world stops.
“I am stupid, I am selfish, and I think I’m asking too much. If you can just wait for me, I’ll—I can even retire next year if you think it's too long—”
“Hold up right there, Champ,” you stop him. “You're not retirin’ early.”
“If you want me to, I will.”
You sigh in exasperation.
“Max,” your voice is low. “That’s your career. I’m not gonna—Jesus, Max don’t retire, okay? Not even for me. Retire only when you want to.”
This man is just…
You don't know if you want to choke him or kiss him.
“I want you to have me, [Name]. I… I want to be with you, to love you, and if retiring is the only way I can do that then I will,” he says. “I love you.”
You purse your lips.
“I love you, too, Max,” you confess and now, your chest feels lighter now that you've said it out loud. “But not now, I can't love you like this. I’m too… I can't pursue a relationship with you right now. Not when…”
“It's not our time,” Max nods. “I understand.”
He really did change.
“I want to find my way through life first," you tell him.
Max smiles and he pulls you again in a hug. He has tears in his eyes again and he sniffles, chuckling at himself for crying again. He pulls away from the hug slowly and hands you your keys.
“See you around?"
“See you around.”
You exit the car and you notice that your heart feels lighter now compared to the time you left Monaco even though you are doing the same exact thing—leaving Max to go home.
At the end of 2023, you grace the paddock with your presence—your signature YSL heels is back on the tracks. You wear pants now, instead of the corporate pencil skirts, matched with a Prema Racing polo shirt. The label at the back indicates: AERODYNAMIC ENGINEER. By the end of 2024, you are promoted to the strategy team. By 2025, you become a race engineer of an up-and-coming racing superstar and you kept the job position until now.
The world didn't end just because your Dad died. It took you a while to realize that your Papa didn't own your dreams. It was always yours to begin with. He just played a part in inspiring them.
Max Verstappen became the 2024, 2025, 2026, 2027, and 2028 WDC, marking history as an eight-time consecutive champion. He retired after the 2028 season and disappeared from the face of the Earth. He had stopped going home to his penthouse in Monaco, had put his private jet on sale, and had cut ties to his father, Jos, who was very disappointed that his son had retired too early in the sport. Max retired willingly—he had achieved more awards than most of his seniors and it's time to give room to the younger ones. Rumors say that he had established a racing program somewhere in Belgium. Charles Leclerc, Max's friend, refuses to update the media regarding Max's whereabouts and only says: "He's happy. Don't worry."
Years later, a thirteen-almost-fourteen year-old girl named Emiliana Julia Verstappen, racing under the American flag, become the youngest driver in history to join the ranks of the F1 academy and later, she becomes the youngest driver to ever drive a Formula One car, racing for Scuderia Ferrari as second driver, at only seventeen and a hundred and fifty days old, overthrowing Max Emilian Verstappen, retired eight-time F1 WDC, whom the world has not seen since his retirement, from the list.
#max verstappen x reader#f1 x reader#formula 1#formula one#max verstappen#max verstappen x you#f1 imagines#fanfic#manager!reader#mv33 x reader#mv1 x reader
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The Truth about Lockwood & Co.'s Cancelation and The Dead Boy Detectives!
The Truth about Lockwood & Co.'s cancelation and The Dead Boy Detectives! Well, now that I have your attention, the truth is... And brace yourselves. It's a doozy. They're not related. They just coincidentally deal with teens solving supernatural themed mysteries. This isn't the first time Netflix has had such a show. In 2021 The Irregulars was a Sherlock Holmes story about the street urchins who often helped him solve crimes, with a supernatural twist.
Lockwood & Co. was NOT canceled to make room for The Dead Boy Detectives. The Dead Boy Detectives had been in development since September 2021 when the characters (played by two different actors) appeared in Doom Patrol. The show was originally going to be on HBO Max but after a big shake up at HBO Max (now Max) The Dead Boy Detectives was moved to Netflix to better connect it with The Sandman since they started as characters in The Sandman comics. Yes, the shows are both about supernatural themed mysteries (particularly ghosts) and teens but The Dead Boy Detectives are... well, dead. And it's a spin-off of The Sandman. The Dead Boy Detectives are NOT why Lockwood & Company was canceled. The show was in production before Lockwood was even canceled. Boycotting The Dead Boy Detectives will NOT bring back Lockwood. This is deja vu of when Lucifer finally, properly, ended at season 6 with a grand finale. There were some fans convinced that Lucifer was canceled (a second time) to make room for The Sandman since Lucifer started as a character in The Sandman and in The Sandman Lucifer was to be played by Gwendoline Christie instead of Tom Ellis. Some Lucifer fans boycotted The Sandman out of spite or believed that if they could get The Sandman canceled it would somehow bring back Lucifer. Thankfully nothing ever came of this misguided behavior and the behavior from some Lockwood fans is equally misguided. The Sandman did not cause Lucifer to get canceled. And The Dead Boy Detectives did not cause Lockwood & Co. from getting canceled. The plot similarities are coincidence. The Dead Boy Detectives first appeared in The Sandman in 1991. No one at Netflix said "These shows are too similar, let's axe one to install the other." Do you have any idea how many similar shows are on Fox or on the CW? "Too similar to a show we would rather do" is not a common reason for a show being canceled.
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smells like teen spirit (M)
PAIRING: Jeno (NCT) + reader (female)
SUMMARY: Jeno keeps getting on your last nerve, but you still end up in his arms with your tongue down his throat.
WARNINGS: strong language; some drug use; explicit sexual content
NOTES: 8.6k words; this is part two of a rose and her thorns, but can be read as a standalone one-shot
Chicago, 1991
A tale as old as time. Sex, drugs, and rock and roll.
That was our life that summer. Some of us in different doses than the others.
You sat on the bed with your legs bent, resting the notebook against your thighs as you scribbled out another page of the band’s escapades.
Though there was a connection with Mark, we agreed to keep things simple for the rest of the summer. Nothing could be allowed to interfere with the band. God forbid we earned a reputation like Fleetwood Mac’s.
Unfortunately, this agreement caused some awkwardness and I handled that the way I always did - with distance. If Mark couldn’t help but complicate things, then I would do him a favor and give both of us the space we needed.
It felt like shit, but I was used to being the villain.
Turning the page, you kept writing in the eerie quiet of the van. Haechan was bouncing his leg up-and-down at a mile a minute, thoroughly annoyed by Jeno’s delay. Mark was dozing in his seat, trying not to fantasize about you and the fucking heaven between your thighs, but he couldn’t help but watch you jotting down your feelings, your grievances, your hopes and your dreams.
He prayed that he was part of the latter.
The silence broke when the van door opened loudly, followed by a disheveled Jeno stumbling inside. “Goddamn, I am getting so much pussy on this trip,” he huffed, running a hand through his overgrown and severely damaged blond hair.
“Jeno, I swear to god,” you barked, scratching out the compliment you had given him at the top of the page. “If you give me an STD this summer, I will set your drums on fire.”
“You would destroy my child?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely.”
Jeno grumbled something under his breath about how you always rained on his parade of pussy and shut the doors. “Let’s get on the road,” he said irritably, shooing Haechan out of the driver’s seat and jerking the van in gear.
“We’ve been waiting for you, dumbass,” Haechan sniped. He’d been getting so annoyed and impatient he threatened to leave the bastard drummer behind and never look back. That bitch can walk, he’d declared moments before.
Mark stayed quiet in the passenger seat, sluggish with sleep. He looked to you again, watching you write in your journal and wondering what you were saying about him.
About all of them.
Jeno drove fast, but not a soul complained. The gig in Chicago was the most highly-anticipated of the trip.
The van hurtled down the highway, not stopping for several hours until you begged for a bathroom. After a quick gas station run, you put some fresh snacks into the cabinet and wrangled your hair into a bun on your head.
Jeno came in with a bag in hand and said, “I bought more condoms.”
“Good for you,” you deadpanned, wrinkling your nose.
“Although I heard Mark didn’t have to wear one,” Jeno added, tsking his tongue. “One of the few perks of being innocent and pure, I guess.”
Your voice was razor sharp. “Careful, Jeno.”
Both pleased and annoyed by your tone, Jeno asked roughly, “Did you at least remember to get your birth control?”
You wanted to shoot daggers into his face with your eyes, but refusing to afford him any looks was better. “Yeah. I got my Depo shot two days before we left.”
“How long does it last?”
“Three months.”
Jeno smiled wryly. “Well, isn’t that convenient.”
“That’s the whole point,” you mumbled. He was trying to get a reaction out of you, prodding at your buttons, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.
There was a pause. “I’m ready when you are,” Jeno flirted, wiggling his brows at you.
“Who said I even wanna screw you?”
“You did. Many, many times.”
True, but no longer relevant. All things considered. You returned to your notebook and said, “That was before you became a penis petri dish of death and disease.”
“Ouch.”
My relationship with Jeno could best be described as rivalry. He never gave an inch and neither did I. It was my job to keep him humble.
And damn, what a full-time thankless job that was.
Jeno had been going out of his way to rile you up after your night with Mark. He couldn’t stand seeing you sulky. Mark’s pouting was beyond remedy, but yours could be managed with well-placed jabs.
He had you down to a science. Lighting a fire under your ass was all Jeno knew how to do. The more he prodded at you, the more flames escaped. And when you were angry, you couldn’t be sad.
Because there was nothing Jeno hated more than seeing you cry.
“Can you try to stay on beat this time?” Jeno chided, spinning a drumstick nimbly between his fingers.
Having been testing the microphone, you whipped around and snapped, “Fuck you, Jeno.”
An argument swiftly ensued, petty and heated. No surprises there. Mark and Haechan stood with their guitars and watched the back and forth with no end in sight, even as people poured into the club.
“Those two are going to kill each other,” Mark said under his breath.
Haechan scoffed. “Or make a ton of babies.”
Mark almost choked on the lump that shot into his throat.
You stomped over to Haechan, pointed at Jeno and said, “I can’t deal with this douche canoe anymore!”
To which Jeno shot back, “Just shut up and sing, ice crotch!”
Your eyes went wide with rage and you spun in Jeno’s direction, ready and willing to claw out his eyes. Haechan grabbed you by the arm and steered you back over to the microphone, officially sapped of all patience.
“In ten seconds, me and Mark are going to start playing,” he said hurriedly. “And both of you are going to look like losers if you’re not ready.”
You huffed a swear or two under your breath and gripped the microphone as Mark and Haechan got into position. Then you heard the tapping of drumsticks behind you followed by the roar of Mark’s electric guitar.
By the time the show was over, you were utterly exhausted. Between Haechan and Mark, your arms draped across their shoulders, the three of you sang tiredly along to one of your songs as the boys essentially dragged you down the hall toward the back door for some well-earned sleep.
Turning the corner, you saw Jeno with two beautiful blondes. You bristled with annoyance. They were giggling at every little thing he said like they were getting dick after, which you quickly realized was the case.
Not on my watch.
“Let it go,” Haechan said, but he knew it would make no difference.
Jeno did not deserve pussy after how badly he stressed you out. You wriggled out of Haechan and Mark’s arms and made a beeline for the drummer.
“Oh my god,” you said in a loud, obnoxious voice, greeting the girls as you cuddled up to Jeno and patted his chest. “You guys look so cute! But unfortunately, Jeno is only halfway through his chlamydia treatment.”
Wide-eyed, the girls looked at you in horror before sending vengeful expressions at Jeno, who set his jaw and bristled with anger.
You held your hand beside your mouth, pretending to whisper a secret, “Very contagious through bodily fluids.”
The pair of blondes scurried off. One of them gave Jeno the finger.
“I hate and despise you,” Jeno hissed, trudging down the corridor.
You were hot on his heels, ready to resume the argument from earlier. A moniker like Ice Crotch was not going to be forgotten. “Haven’t you had enough threesomes?”
“There’s no such thing as too many threesomes,” Jeno replied, heated. “And I’ve only had four.”
Haechan asked curiously, “You keep track?”
Jeno snorted. “Don’t you?”
“One is easy to remember. I wasn’t into it.”
Mark fell in line beside them and said, more so to himself, “I have questions.”
“I don’t,” you spoke up, backhanding Jeno’s burly arm to get his attention. “Jeno, you’ve got pussy brain and you fucked up the tempo.”
Jeno went quiet, which was the last thing you expected.
Everyone was tired and raw. We were a well-oiled machine, steaming ahead like a freight train, but with time, gears start to grind. When gears grind, they tear through flesh and bone.
I know my boys. It sounds cliche, and I agree, but I know them. We’ve been friends for so long and crossed hundreds of lines of intimacy reserved for soulmates. They can’t hide anything from me.
Especially the things they intentionally try to hide from me.
You knew you had struck a nerve, but you weren’t sure which one. You dug your heels in regardless, but you were miffed when Jeno said nothing and made for the door.
“Did he just storm off?” Mark questioned, equally bemused.
“He never does that,” Haechan said softly, turning to you.
You didn’t hesitate to stomp after him, and Mark and Haechan didn’t follow this time. When fire fought with fire, it was best to keep a distance to avoid getting burned.
The cold of Chicago’s night was bitter on your cheeks when you stepped outside and you pulled your jacket tightly round you. Jeno hadn’t jumped into the van yet. He was lingering in the lot, scraping his shoes across the asphalt as he puffed on a cigarette.
Closing the distance, you called, “The hell is going on with you?”
“Nothing,” he replied, avoiding your eyes and blowing out smoke.
“You’re out of sync and you’re acting weird.”
Jeno narrowed his eyes at you. “We were all out of sync tonight. Why am I the only one getting called out on it?”
As usual, no matter how angry he made you, your first instinct when things were too tense was to smooth his feathers. His surface was rough, but at his core, Jeno was tender. You brushed your hand down his arm and said sweetly, “Because you’re the rock…”
"We’re all built on," was going to be the end of that sentence. Unfortunately, I never got to say it.
Jeno cut you off. “I don’t want to be your rock,” he lashed out, hissing your name. “Don’t you feel pathetic leaning on me all the time?”
You recoiled like you’d been slapped and that was when you noticed his eyes. They didn’t belong to the Jeno you knew, but to the monster that stole his mind and would eventually give him back by morning.
Wrapping your arms around yourself in comfort, suddenly much colder than before, your breath pillared into the night like the smoke from his mouth when you whispered, “I didn’t. Until you said that.”
Jeno blinked, realizing too late that he’d hurt you.
That was the thing about me and Jeno. We both thought the other to be fearless and unbreakable, but also knew who we were at each other’s cores. I was his mirror image and he was mine. The broken kids; the kids that just wanted to be loved. The pair everyone knew to be demons, but never stopped to think how we became them.
The fallen angels.
Anger faded from his face in an instant. “I didn’t mean it,” Jeno started, flicking away the cigarette and reaching for you.
You stepped back, not wanting to be touched. “You’re at your most honest when you’re high, baby,” you said sternly, fixing him with a look that rooted Jeno in place. “Don’t lie to me now.”
Jeno swallowed the lump in his throat. How could you always see right through him?
You wiped the tear that spilled down your cheek and escaped into the van, your safe place, your little haven. Jeno ran a hand down his face and cursed, “Fuck,” for hitting you where it hurt.
The rest of the night was tense and awkward, only slacking when sleep took hold. Everyone was painfully exhausted. Chicago had exceeded expectations and pushed all limits. The show was insane. The energy was incredible. I would remember that performance for the rest of my life.
Me and the boys may have been a little out of sync, but each of us gave it our all. We left nothing on the floor and held nothing back.
Haechan curled around you in the bed, keeping you warm. You claimed the bed together more often than not. Mark slept like a vampire, on his back on the floor with his arms at his sides. It was the weirdest thing you’d ever seen, but it worked for him somehow. He slept like a baby, the whistle of his snores filling the van.
Jeno sat in the driver’s seat, looking up at the stars, exhaling the smoke from a joint. He was wide awake, couldn’t sleep. An unfortunate side-effect of the shit he took to get high. The marijuana wasn’t simmering him down as hoped. He’d probably stay up all night and sleep the day away.
Glancing over his shoulder, seeing your pretty face made him smile. You looked even cuter when you slept, but it was frustrating as hell.
No one else noticed he was high but you. Did you really know him that well?
Of course she does, Jeno thought. You were his better half. That’s how it worked. He could never escape you. There was a point of no return when it came to intimacy. Not so long ago, you and Jeno soared past that point. Two reckless teenagers, young and wild, that found all their highs and lows with each other.
Jeno propped his legs up on the dash and closed his eyes, watching the memories like a movie in his head. Mark shredded the electric as if his life was on the line; probably to vent his sexual frustration. Haechan was a whirlwind of energy despite playing that boring ass bass. And you, beautiful you… Mark wasn’t kidding when he said you were a god on stage.
Chicago delivered on the show, but not the after-party. Instead of drinking and fucking the night away, Jeno was in the stuffy van watching the stars go by when he wasn’t stealing glances of you. He wanted to be in your arms, needed you to kiss him and tell him everything would be okay.
You were the fix he craved most of all.
In the time it took him to blink, dawn broke. The sun shone across Jeno’s face. He lifted a hand, shielding his eyes. He grumbled a little and turned in the seat to get comfortable, cursing at the awkward angle his back was in.
Your hand touched his shoulder gently and Jeno lurched in surprise, peering up at you. He’d never looked so weary and drained, but you could see the animal was gone from his eyes. “You’ve been up all night?” Your voice rang with compassion, and Jeno felt utterly undeserving.
He nodded, his eyes fluttering closed, unable to keep them open any longer.
You tugged at him, getting Jeno to his feet and ushering him to the bed, where he basically collapsed onto the mattress. Mark and Haechan were up, crawling around in search of coffee like a pair of zombies. Meanwhile, you let Jeno situate and draped the blanket over him, tucking him in, and brushed some of his hair back from his face.
Jeno took your hand and laced his fingers through yours. “Tell me you love me,” he said in barely a whisper.
“I love you,” you replied without hesitation, bringing his hand to your lips and kissing his knuckles. You stayed propped over him, wanting to be close so you could be sure he finally drifted off. You left a chaste kiss on his brow and coaxed, “Go to sleep, baby.”
Mark turned away. It wasn’t jealousy he felt, just longing. Seeing you so gentle with someone you were viciously fighting with the night before made him want you more. No matter what was said and done, there was too much love in this cramped little van.
When Jeno’s breathing leveled out and his hand went slack in yours, you finally relaxed. You’d be damned if he went days without sleep. There wasn’t much you could do, but the boys had their limits and you did your best to make sure they weren’t crossed.
Without another word, you clambered into the driver’s seat and turned the key, driving out of the club parking lot and onto the main road. You found a shopping center where Mark and Haechan could run errands while Jeno was out, and you pulled in.
Jeno slept well into the afternoon, stirring when the smell of hot food filled the van. Haechan used some of the gig money to splurge on delicious Chinese takeout.
You pulled out a foldable table from behind the cabinet and stood it up on the floor. The four of you sat around it and ate in silence, stuffing your faces until your bellies were full. You and Haechan gabbed a little, but not much. Mark and Jeno didn’t mutter a single word, both of them stuck in their feelings.
A far cry from how they would be that night.
One last show in Chicago. You were back on the same stage as before. It was the first time the band would perform an additional night at a club.
Jeno and Mark were squabbling, which was a rare enough sight to see. The two generally didn’t like to fuck with each other. It always resulted in fists flying and both were surprisingly really good at scrapping.
You looked to Haechan and rolled your eyes. Your best friend was smiling, on the verge of a laugh.
“We’re doing the third set,” Jeno said firmly.
“She can’t,” Mark replied, anger rising. “Her voice is fried from last night. The third set could knock it out for weeks and we’ll have no singer.”
Jeno shrugged. “She can take it.”
You were thoroughly annoyed. “She’s standing right here,” you spoke up, folding your arms. The audacity they had. It made you bristle, because you knew it had nothing to do with your voice and had everything to do with your body.
“What do you want to do?” Mark asked, softening his voice for you.
Jeno cut in, “Don’t ask her. You have to push her.”
You shot him a nasty scowl. “Stop pushing me.”
“Or what?” He smirked.
You shivered with irritation crossing dangerously toward rage.
“I don’t think you can do the third set,” Jeno said, challenging you, his smirk deepening. “Prove me wrong.”
“I’m not falling for that reverse psychology bullshit.”
“Coward.”
A smug look washed over your face as you hissed, “Don’t you feel pathetic leaning on me?”
The smile fell off Jeno’s lips. “I said I was sorry.”
“Don’t bother. I don’t care,” you snapped, but you definitely cared. The wound was still fresh and stung.
Haechan tilted his head when you looked at him. He was always your anchor in the rough seas of Mark and the violent winds of Jeno. “I’m with you, whatever you choose,” he said.
If I ever walked off that stage, my boys would follow. No questions asked. They would follow me into hell and back. Though the four of us would probably just live there indefinitely.
You straightened your shoulders and your tone left no room for argument. “We’re doing the third set.”
Jeno beamed victoriously. Haechan nodded. Mark gave a look mixed between concern and awestruck.
You sang until you were spent; brutally, wholly, and everything in between. Your legs felt like jelly when you walked off stage and your chest ached, lungs taut. The adrenaline, like a performance-enhancing drug, had run its course and you were officially on empty.
It wasn’t unlike you to push yourself to the absolute limit. You loved the stage. You worshiped the power that surged from your voice when you sang into the mic. Pipes for days, Haechan always said.
The dressing room was a sight for sore eyes. You dropped heavily onto one of the sofas and let your head fall back, closing your eyes. Your throat felt like you’d swallowed razors.
“Try not to talk,” Haechan said, holding up his hand when you shot him an irritated look. “I’m not telling you to be quiet. I’m suggesting you let your voice rest.”
You nodded and sunk back into the sofa again.
Mark was vibrating, the energy of the show still pulsing through him. Brimming with energy (the excess turning into courage), he walked over to you and bent down, pressing a lingering kiss to your brow.
You smiled, knowing it was Mark without opening your eyes.
Jeno finally deigned to grace the rest of you with his presence, bursting into the dressing room and exclaiming, “Holy shit, you killed it!”
“And this is where you take all the credit,” you rasped, wincing at the sound of your own voice.
“I’ll wait till you go to bed and then I’ll take all the credit.”
You lifted your head and narrowed your eyes at him. “Don’t you have some ass to chase?”
Jeno licked his lips. “Nah. I only got eyes for you right now.”
“Pluck them out for all I care.”
“You wanna fuck me so bad you look stupid.”
You waved him away, settling down and closing your eyes again, and wheezed, “Have fun with your hand.”
Haechan sat beside you, picking up your legs and draping them over his lap. “I’ve never seen you so mad at him.”
“He just doesn’t stop,” you huffed. “You know when to leave me alone. Mark never pushes my buttons. Jeno just keeps fucking digging.”
Haechan chuckled. “That’s all he knows how to do.”
“Whatever.” You shrugged, feigning indifference.
Mark suddenly asked, “Do you love him?”
You sighed. “I love all three of you. He’s definitely my least favorite though.”
Mark gleamed proudly at Jeno, who scowled back.
“So, if we were drowning, who would you save first?” Haechan asked mischievously.
“Mark. Obviously.”
Mark’s grin widened, while Haechan gasped and put a hand over his heart like it was the ultimate betrayal.
“You can swim,” you said, patting Haechan’s arm over your legs. You opened your eyes and gave Jeno a vicious sneer. “Jeno’s the only one drowning.”
Jeno’s lips squared into a frown.
“What’s that mean?” Mark asked curiously, but Haechan stayed silent. He knew.
“Leave it,” Jeno warned, darker than ever.
The three of you did. Unlike Jeno, you knew when to quit.
Some people did drugs. Others did rock music. A few did both.
The boys dispersed momentarily. You were relieved when the dressing room was empty, leaving you to your thoughts and the searing pain in your vocal chords. Rubbing at your eyes, smearing your makeup, you didn’t hear someone come back in as you muttered to yourself, “God, my throat fucking hurts.”
“It’s probably raw as shit,” Jeno said, making you jolt. And roll your eyes. He cleared his throat and switched his tone to add, “Speaking of raw…”
“No.”
“You let Mark in raw,” he whined loudly.
You cut him a glare. “I wouldn’t let you raw me if you were the last man on earth.”
Jeno pouted. “Ow.”
With a scoff, you decided to turn the tables on him. “Why are you so hard for me the past few days? I can’t even brush my teeth without you humping the air around me.”
There was no shame to be found in Jeno. “I haven’t had you in weeks,” he groaned.
Your lips parted in surprise. “You’ve had every other girl in the country.”
“It’s not the same.”
You stood and crept close to him, close enough to ghost your lips over his mouth. Jeno went boneless, every inch of him fixated to you and what you would do next. He wanted you so bad he couldn’t see straight. So, you decided to yank the metaphorical rug out from under him, sniping, “You’re pathetic.”
“Are you really going to hold that against me forever?” Jeno asked, tensing.
No. It was just easier to be mad at him. That was the only way I could have some defense against the power he had over me.
“I’ll make you a deal,” you said, sliding your hands over his shoulders and winding your fingers into his hair. “Answer one question for me and I’ll forgive you.”
Jeno was one more breath away from kissing you. He knew it was a trap. You were luring him in and he was happy to swallow the bait. “Fine,” he replied in a husky voice, eyes on your lips. “Ask your damn question.”
“What are you taking?”
“What do you mean?”
You hardened your gaze on him and tugged on his hair. “Don’t play that with me. I know better.”
Jeno studied you a moment. You would keep yanking this thread until it unraveled. He pushed, you pulled. The two of you could play tug-of-war with each other’s heartstrings forever. Jeno decided it was better to rip the bandage off and get it over with it.
He reached to the back pocket of his jeans, pulled out a bag, and handed it out to you.
You took a split-second look at the bag and your jaw dropped, your arms falling as you snatched it quickly. “Cocaine? Are you fucking kidding me, Jeno?”
Jeno stole the bag back in the time it took you to blink, returning it to the safety of his pocket. “We’re supposed to do drugs,” he defended, rather unconvincingly. “We’re rockstars.”
“We’re teenagers that just graduated high school with barely enough cash for fuel and chips!”
“How I spend my cut of the money is my business,” Jeno shot back.
“This isn’t about the money.” You folded your arms, scolding him like a mother would a child; oscillating between angry and worried. “You know how dangerous that shit is.”
Jeno shifted his approach too, ever your mirror. “It’s the only way I can perform, babe. If I don’t have it, I can’t focus and I get too nervous.”
You softened even more, like Jeno knew you would. “We can get you something else,” you said gently. “Something better. Safer.”
He scoffed. “With our gas and chips money?”
You sighed, accepting a temporary defeat, but you pressed, “You’re doing it to get high. Not to concentrate.”
Jeno went slack, equally defeated, and reached for your waist. “I’m just trying to have a good time. We know this won’t last. We’re going nowhere.”
You lowered your head. “I know.”
The summer was half over and we hadn’t been scouted. Hope was replaced with disappointment and eventually, disappointment would flip to resentment. We never put it into words, but it was like a cloud following us, day and night.
Jeno took your face in his hands and tipped your chin up until you met his eyes. “Let me have this summer,” he whispered sadly. “Mark got you. I got this.”
Something inside you broke a little.
Yes, when the summer was over, you were Mark’s.
But the summer wasn’t over.
Jeno smiled in surprise when he felt the warmth of your lips on his, but he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you and deepen the kiss. Feeling the heat of your body against his was what he’d been craving, wanting you to burn him alive.
My first instinct always was to comfort him. I would chip away at myself and give him every piece if it meant he could use them to stitch his wounds.
Believe it or not, Jeno was my first love, but a first love at fifteen means nothing in the grand scheme of things. He was my first everything, but we just didn’t work. No matter how hard we tried. There was a mad and intense connection between us, inseverable, but in the confines of a relationship, we were wild animals forced together in a cage.
I know few will understand us. Hell, even I don’t understand how I could have so much passion and fire for someone that stretched me thin and forever kept me at the brink of insanity.
But I was beyond questioning it.
Jeno slipped his tongue in your mouth and you grabbed his hips, pulling him flush against you. His kisses were surpassing hungry and landing somewhere near ravenous. The intensity must have scared him, because Jeno suddenly parted from you and took a step back.
You rubbed your lips bashfully, not realizing you were panting until it was the only sound in the quiet dressing room. And Jeno was breathing just as heavily.
“What’s wrong?”
Jeno shook his head. “I want you so bad.”
You snickered. Here you were on a silver platter and he was the one that put distance between you.
Though you opened your mouth to say something snarky, Jeno spoke up, “But you’re going to leave me.”
Your heart sank. It dawned on you; this summer was the end to a lot of things. Youth was ending. The band was ending and with it, all of your dreams.
And the tie between me and Jeno would have to finally be severed so my life with Mark could start.
“I’m sorry,” you murmured. You didn’t want to think about Jeno and his broken heart. Or that the drugs you scolded him over were what he used to fill the void you left behind.
Jeno respected the hell out of you for having the strength to leave him. He never could walk away from you even though he knew it was for the best. You would spend your whole life trying to fix him while he would always use you as a crutch.
It wasn’t fair to either you or him.
“Mark is good for you,” Jeno said in barely a whisper, his eyes glistening.
You shook your head. “I don’t want to talk about Mark.”
Jeno swallowed the lump in his throat. Seeing his pain reflected back at him on your face was too much. “Get high with me.”
Your eyes went wide. “Why?”
“You’re my person,” he said, vulnerable. “The only one I’ve ever wanted to do it with.”
This was what you struggled to put into words - the hold this boy had on you. He was bottomless ocean depths.
“It’s always you and me. We do everything together,” Jeno continued, reaching for your hand and leaving a kiss on your knuckles.
You let him pull you back into his arms and asked, “What if I die?”
“I’ll bring you back,” he whispered, pressing a tender kiss to your brow that completely melted you.
“What if you die?”
“Let me go.”
Your eyes suddenly shone with the threat of tears. “Never.”
Jeno leaned into you, stealing a kiss from your lips. “Just this once, babe.”
You paused, thinking it over. Everything inside you screamed, “Yes!” Jeno never failed to bring this side out of you - the reckless, starved one that didn’t give a damn about consequences. You always feared if that was the real you, the true you. “Just this once,” you said quietly, closing your eyes as Jeno sealed his lips to yours again.
The idea of getting high reached out to you with gentle, caressing fingertips, promising to banish the pain and numb the hurt.
Tearing himself away from you once more, Jeno walked over to the door and locked it.
Yet another first time with Jeno to add to my list.
You were caught off-guard at how fast the high kicked in and never before had you noticed how tense your body was until it wasn’t anymore. Your mind was even lighter. There was no more torment. You could feel that it was there, but it didn’t ache any longer.
The sensation was indescribable. You were whole, perfect, immortal and invincible all at once.
And that was how you found yourself on the couch with Jeno, pawing at each other like animals in heat.
“Jeno?”
“I know.”
You sucked in a breath as he nipped at your neck and asked weakly, “Am I going crazy?”
“Babe,” he said, meeting your eyes with a smirk. “You been crazy.”
You laughed and the sound was music to Jeno’s ears, making his smile widen.
Time blurred together. It could have been the next day or the next year for all you cared. All you knew was this moment with Jeno and how it lasted a lifetime.
You sank deeper into the sofa beneath Jeno’s weight. Your thighs were hooked on his hips, hands roaming his taut, muscly back. Both your shirt and his tee were somewhere on the floor, along with your bra.
Jeno kept grinding into you, each movement rougher than the last. “Fuck,” he swore, lips brushing your ear. “I just know you’re getting so fucking wet right now.”
He wasn’t wrong.
A wanton noise of pleasure escaped you and Jeno ate it up. You were burning by a thousand degrees, it was almost painful. You had never craved someone’s body on such a primal level before.
With Mark, it was love, but this? This was lust running wild with abandon.
The doorknob wiggled. You didn’t hear it over the loud thumping in your ears and neither did Jeno, who was far too busy bruising your neck whilst he kneaded your breasts, pinching your nipples to make you squirm. Haechan didn’t need to try the knob again to know what was going on. He turned to Mark, who was coming down the hall, and led him away.
“They’re working out their issues. Let’s get the hell out of here,” he said hurriedly. Mark hesitated, but didn’t argue. He was none the wiser. With the way you and Jeno had been at each other’s throats, it never crossed his mind that you would fuck him.
Meanwhile, you were discovering new uncharted levels of arousal, undulating beneath Jeno, trying to match his movements, which were getting faster and harder. The drugs in your system made everything feel more intense, all-consuming. There was no tension, no insecurity, just instinct and pleasure.
Jeno was definitely waiting for you to give him the green light, and you were enjoying keeping it from him, but the throbbing between your legs was unbearable.
You planted your hands on his thick chest and pushed, making Jeno prop over you and look into your face. “Wanna fuck now?” you asked sheepishly.
His pupils dilated. “I thought you’d never ask.”
You whined when Jeno clambered off of you, standing next to the sofa and unfastening his pants. Before he drew them down his thighs, he pulled condoms from his pocket and dropped them on your lap.
“Two?” You snorted. “My lucky day.”
“One for each girl. You know, the ones you chased away from me.”
Licking your lips as his hard cock sprang into view, you grabbed him by the hips and purred, “I called first dibs on that dick years ago.”
Jeno chuckled, but his expression changed on a dime when you leaned in. He watched you drag your lips over his abs, kissing and nibbling along his happy trail. His breaths stuttered as he said, “Whenever you want it, it’s all yours.”
You peeked up at him hotly. “I want it now.”
While Jeno fitted himself with a condom, you shimmied out of your pants and underwear, and the moment they were on the floor, you turned onto your knees, braced yourself on the arm of the sofa, and arched your back, sticking your ass in the air.
He wouldn’t be able to resist it for a second.
“Fuck you,” Jeno hissed, getting into position behind you and raking his cock between your folds, gathering your slick from tip to base.
You wiggled your hips. Your brain was clouded with lust and drugs, and something purely hungry for Jeno. Like he was your favorite meal. “Gimme it,” you huffed, glancing over your shoulder. “What the fuck is taking so long?”
Jeno gave your ass a smack, making you squeak. “You need to calm down,” he chided with a grin, still sliding his length between your slit. He was so riled up his hips jerked against you involuntarily.
You reached between your legs, getting a hand around his dick and steering it into your aching pussy. Jeno let you, biting his lip and smirking at how goddamn horny you were for him.
The head of his cock pressed into your entrance and you grasped the arm of the sofa with both hands as Jeno began thrusting forward, working himself inside until he impaled you on every last inch of his girthy cock. You buried your face in the couch, biting down on the stressed leather.
Jeno gripped your waist tight and drew you to him until he was balls deep in your tight heat, feeling your walls stretch and flutter around his length. The drugs amplified everything about you; your warmth, your scent, your sounds. He barely noticed the condom at all.
When he drew back and shoved his cock back into your cunt, you lifted your head and cried, “Fuck!”
“You’re so wet,” Jeno growled, sinking in and out to hear your slick pussy welcoming him back.
You whimpered. “Fuck you and that big dick,” you mumbled, but you didn’t mean a word of it. You weren’t sure how much you could blame the drugs anymore. You wanted him to plow the living shit out of you until there was nothing left.
Jeno took that personally. As a challenge more than anything. He squeezed your waist in his hands and smacked his hips into your ass, driving his cock into your core and giving you something to really whine about.
It was all you could do not to scream as he took you for all you were worth. You fisted the couch in your hands until your knuckles ached and you threw yourself back to meet his strokes, a noise escaping on your hoarse throat with every rushed breath. Sex was a drug all its own. It just felt too damn good.
Jeno kept his hard pace, making sure he landed flush against your heat every time, and brushed his hands up your body to wrap them around your throat and tip your head back. “Yeah, that’s my good slut,” he taunted, the smack of his body colliding with yours getting louder. “She’s taking all that dick, huh?”
The sounds you made were humiliating, but they only made Jeno harder. His grip on your neck had you slack-jawed, your eyes winched closed. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him!
It wasn’t fair that he had that kind of power over my body. With him, I felt desired and powerful, and between that - untainted. Unbroken. Jeno never saw me for the damaged goods that I was. To him, I was always perfect. He completed me. No matter how unhealthy it was, I wanted it.
I didn’t need drugs. Jeno’s love was my high.
“Don’t stop,” you choked out, his hands heavy on your strained vocal chords. “Don’t ever stop...”
Loving me. Though the words wouldn’t come, Jeno knew them.
“Never, baby,” Jeno said, releasing your throat in favor of your waist, draping himself over you and burying his face in your neck. His hands wandered your breasts as he plunged in as far as he could go and stopped, leaving a few scattered, reassuring kisses across your shoulders.
Your body trembled when he bottomed out, aching with need and overstimulation. You swallowed to wet your throat, panting for air, and asked, “Why are you…?”
“You’re so fucking high, baby,” Jeno crooned, touching you gently and affectionately. “Just trust me.”
He was right. You were high on drugs and his body. You were a nerve laid bare, every brush of his hands enough to make you shiver. Your body pulsated, like you were being dangled over the edge, the pressure becoming too much to bear.
You held yourself up on hands and knees, tortured by the fact he was no longer moving inside you, but his hands playing with your breasts and his lips on your neck had your attention. The stimulation was sending more shudders across your skin, making you lean into his touch as your core throbbed for him.
“Part of you will always be mine,” Jeno whispered into your neck. “I know you’ll pick him over me, but part of you will always miss me.”
You tensed with unshed tears and cried, “I know.”
“I need you to know it’s okay,” Jeno said, turning your head and kissing you with so much pain and pleasure it knocked the wind out of you.
You kissed him back, reaching up to thread your fingers into his hair. It was a cruel curse - to love someone so deeply that was bad for you.
Jeno broke the kiss and rocked gently into you, staying in deep and lilting his cock inside your walls, the head of him kissing your cervix. Normally, you would have pushed at his hips for some mercy, but the high made you impervious to pain.
Suddenly, he thrust in hard but slow, arching his hips. You staggered out a moan and reached out to steady yourself, almost knocked off balance by his strength.
He did it again and again.
Tears pricked at your eyes. Jeno was hitting you with those drawn-out, domineering strokes, making you feel every inch of him slam against your sweet spot. He may have agreed to never hold you choosing Mark over him against you, but he was going to give you one final reminder of how absolute his control of your body was.
“I’m coming,” you warned, his name a mantra on your tongue as you took all he had to give. You were grateful for the roar of music coming from the other side of the wall, drowning out your cries and Jeno’s moans.
Jeno fisted a hand in your hair while the other still tugged and rolled your nipples. He kept his pace, hips slapping into your ass at a perfect rhythm, knowing you were on the edge of orgasm with the way your walls clamped down on his cock.
“Fuck!” Another brutal thrust sent you into ecstasy. You shook and swore, trying to crawl away from him, but Jeno was on you, shoving you into the couch and riding out your high.
“Good girl,” Jeno hissed, watching you writhe beneath him. He went still and tipped his head back, letting out a tiny moan.
You blinked to clear your eyes. You could feel the bruises forming in your skin as Jeno pinned you to the couch. It only turned you on more. When you realized he was still hard, that he hadn’t come, you mumbled under your breath. He was supposed to finish with you.
Jeno’s eyes flickered. Another moan escaped him as you rolled your hips, desperate for friction. He drifted his hands to your hair, gathering it all in his fists.
You sat up and went to work, fucking him as best you could in your position. Despite the condom, your pussy wanted to milk every drop of cum out of his dick. Post-nut clarity hadn’t set in. Either the drugs or the orgasm made you even more feral for this dumb boy.
“Oh, fuck,” Jeno groaned, watching you throw it back, bouncing your ass on him, taking him like a fucking champ. His abs tightened as he tried not to pound the fuck out of you. Instead, he reeled his hand back and slapped your ass, goading you.
“Come for me, baby,” you said darkly, the room echoing with the loud, wet clap of your bodies meeting.
Jeno growled a low curse in this throat. Suddenly he was on the edge, driven by your command and that tight fucking cunt.
You shrieked in surprise when he flipped you over roughly, the sound devolving into a moan when he steered his cock back into your pussy, grabbed your waist, and drilled into you like he would never get the chance again.
He didn’t last long at that pace. Jeno threw his head back and came, one moan after another tumbling from his pretty mouth, each one more ragged than the last as he emptied himself into the condom.
You brushed your hands over his thighs and hips, whispering little nothings as he came, feeling him shake like a leaf as he buried himself inside you. Once Jeno settled down, you touched his chest and asked, “Holy shit. Are you okay?”
“I’m good,” he wheezed, voice cracking, all the air knocked out of him.
Biting your lip to fight a laugh, you failed to hide the smug grin taking over your face.
“Don’t,” Jeno said weakly, rubbing at his eyes.
“You just came so hard you cried,” you teased, pinching his nipple for good measure.
“Don’t make fun of me.”
Feeling him about to pull out, you reached for his waist and held him there, joking, “I will remember this, forever and ever, and I will bring it up every time you get on my nerves.”
“You’re the worst.” He sobered, leaning in close. “And you’re the best I've ever had.”
You smiled as he kissed you, sealing his words on your lips. Then you giggled as his mouth traveled over your chest, sucking on a nipple. Your buds were still stiff and Jeno couldn’t resist.
“I see how easy it is to get addicted,” you said when Jeno got up to discard the condom. “That shit is intense.”
“Told you.”
Sitting up, you ran your hands through your messy hair. You could only imagine how you looked; makeup smeared, glistening with sweat. “You know you have to stop,” you told him, making your voice gentle.
Jeno afforded you no looks. “Eventually.”
You were too tired to argue, sore and spent in the best ways. When Jeno returned to the couch, you welcomed him with open arms, pulling him close and steering him to lay his head on your naked chest. You stroked your fingers through his hair and over his broad shoulders, and whispered, “I’ll never let you die, Jeno.”
He stayed quiet.
“You’re not allowed to leave me.”
“Stalker.”
You snorted back a laugh. “You know what I mean.”
“I do.” Jeno lifted his head and nuzzled your cheek, teasing, “I just think it’s cute how obsessed you are with me.”
You kept touching him. His skin was just so hot beneath your fingertips, like caressing an open flame. “Are you really okay with dying?” you asked after a moment.
Jeno shrugged. “It’s unavoidable. I don’t see the point in sweating over it.” As he spoke, Jeno kissed at your neck slowly, curious if he could get you riled up again.
Your lashes fluttered and you shifted underneath him. Though he left you more than satisfied, the longer he kissed over your pulse and palmed your breasts, the quicker the ache in your core came back, ready to be filled up again.
Jeno reached down to cup your sex, running his finger over your swollen clit and swearing under his breath when he felt your soaked entrance, thinking how easily he could slide right back in and make you feel good. Both of you.
“If you died,” you stammered, struggling to form words as he touched you. “I don’t think I would ever smile again.”
Jeno was caught off-guard. He stopped pawing at you to look in your eyes, wondering if you realized just how heavy a thing that was to say. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” he told you innocently, kissing the corner of your mouth with affection.
It was the first time you’d seen him so serious. Not hiding behind his usual humor.
Jeno was surprised when you pushed him away and reached for your pants on the floor. He watched curiously as you rifled through your pocket and withdrew a balled-up piece of paper and handed it to him.
“For the memoir?”
You nodded, watching him unfurl the page, your heart thumping harshly in your chest. “Yeah, I’m constantly jotting stuff down.”
Jeno’s eyes drifted over your words.
I can’t stand him. He infuriates me. He makes me crazy. But Jeno is the one person that knows me - the good and the bad, and accepts them both.
I love my boys, but he’s the one I don’t think I could ever live without.
Jeno peered at you with glassy eyes, shining with tears. “Damn it,” he groaned, crashing his lips on yours.
As expected, you made use of that second condom.
Jeno hooked your legs in the crooks of his arms and thrust languidly, staring down at you. Your eyes never parted as he gave you release once more, knowing when the summer was over, he would never get to touch you again.
When all was said and done, the two of you slumped into opposite sides of the sofa, soaked with sweat. Once you caught your breath and Jeno returned from tossing the condom, it was your turn to clamber on top of him, using his chest as your pillow. You rested your head on his shoulder and traced senseless patterns over his collarbone with your fingertips.
Jeno said your name. “I want you to be happy. That’s all I want, but I know I can’t give it to you. I tried.”
You closed your eyes. It would keep the tears at bay. “I know.”
“I feel sorry for you, loving all three of us. It can’t be easy.”
“It’s what I was made for,” you said softly, tightening your arms around him, lest he fly away from you and never return.
Jeno changed subjects before it broke him. “I’ve never felt so self-aware of how it feels to be young. And how it doesn’t last long.”
You nodded slightly. “This time is precious.”
“I wouldn’t say precious. Definitely fun though.”
You snickered, relieved to hear his humor coming back, but a somber feeling rushed over you. “Do you think we’ll ever get tired of it?”
“Of what?”
“The performing, the fucking, and… the drugs.”
Jeno paused. “You mean each other.”
You sighed tersely. There was no hiding it from him.
My biggest fear was that my boys would hate me. That I would be a bitter reminder of what could have been, how close we were to our dreams before crash landing back on earth, broken and bruised forever from the fall.
Jeno brushed his fingers up and down your back, and kissed the top of your head. “I don’t think we’ll resent each other if this fails, babe,” he said in a low voice. Some things just aren’t meant to be, he thought sadly. Like you and me.
“If that happened, I think I would die,” you whimpered, burrowing your face in his chest.
“Don’t talk like that,” Jeno said, running his hand mischievously over your thigh. “But stop being so afraid of death. You’ll waste your life running from something that is going to catch you no matter what.”
You tipped your head back to kiss him. “I just know the devil dreads meeting us. We’ll steal his throne.”
Jeno kissed you back hotly. “Hell yeah. I can’t wait to fuck you on it.”
You laughed.
Hard to steal something that already belongs to you, Jeno.
Copyright 2020-2024 © yutaholic (formerly zenyukhei) All rights reserved do not copy or translate without my permission!
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Tony’s Childhood. Part 1: Identifying facts
In the MCU, Tony sometimes acts like a kid. There is a reason behind every behavior, so I wondered what it was like for him when he was a real kid.
So, the questions of the day: what do we know about Tony's childhood? Did he have one? And, most importantly, how did it affect him?
Let’s first list what we know from the movies:
At age 4 Tony built his first circuit board (IM1)
At age 6 built his first engine (IM1)
Was sent to a boarding school by Howard (IM2)
Cracked the Pentagon’s firewall in high school on a dare (AoU)
Had a nanny until the age of 14 (IM3)
Went to college at 14 (IM1)
Built Dum-E and U when he was there (IM1)
At 17 graduated summa cum laude from MIT (IM1)
Continued his education until his parents’ death (CW)
Tony’s genius gave him two things: the brain and the pain. And by the pain, I mean that instead of interacting and bonding with his parents, enjoying life, playing, having fun, making friends, taking care of pets, and all the other things children do to gradually prepare for adulthood and grow up "healthy", he got this list of achievements. That doesn’t make a person normal.
Parents
We know his relationship with Howard was complicated. Howard loved him in his own way. He had too many things to do to be a good father: SI, S.H.I.E.L.D., scientific projects, trying to build a better future with clean energy, etc. All good, except when you want your child to love you back. Especially if in the tiny amount of time you spend with him, you don’t show him any signs of affection.
What do we know about Maria? Her name, what she looked like, that she played the piano, and died at Winter Soldier’s hand on Dec 16, 1991. That’s it. She didn’t spend much time with Tony either. Remember, he even had a nanny, instead of a mother. Tony's words about her showed that he loved her, but he didn't talk much about her. Because she wasn’t present in his life enough. Why? Because…
School
Howard sent Tony to a boarding school.
Here’s in the S.H.I.E.L.D.s file we have this information about the school:
“Phillips Academy, Andover, MA 1977-1984”
This means he was there from age 7 to 14. Howard sent him to a boarding school when he was SEVEN.
Phillips Academy Andover serves grades 9-12 only (it is a college preparatory school). Thus, either this is a mistake by the creators of the film/file, or Tony, due to his genius, became an exception. Since the early age he was already at school was also mentioned in IM2 tie-in comics, and in Earth-616 that was also 7, we can mark 1977-1984 as valid.
Think about it again: Tony was sent to boarding school in another state when he was 7 years old. He spent another 7 years there, alone, among high school-aged teenagers. No parents around, no peers.
For example, even Hogwarts accepts 11-year-old children, and they live with their peers. Now imagine Harry Potter, at the age of 7, is thrown into a dorm with 7th-year students and locked there. Doesn’t make a person normal either, does it?
Nannies and Jarvis
Since Tony was at the boarding school, there are two options for how he could have a nanny (mentioned in IM3) and spend time with Edwin Jarvis:
1) He was at the boarding school with a nanny. There is almost no possibility that the nanny was Edwin Jarvis because Jarvis was Howard’s butler and had other responsibilities.
2) He had a nanny at home in the summer and during short school breaks. In this case, his parents couldn’t even give him this little of their precious time.
In any case, he could only see Jarvis at home, a few months a year at most.
Note: There is a date error in IM3, stating Tony was 14 in 1983. This is clearly an error and we can omit this detail.
Bullying
Remember this dialog between Tony and Harley in IM3?
0:45:15 – Harley asks him how he knew he was being bullied at school. Tony doesn't answer. He gives him a non-lethal flash thing to "discourage bullying."
We see that Tony knew exactly what was going on with Harley at school. Because that’s exactly what happened to him there. Harley reminded him of himself. Brilliant kid with no friends and practically no parents. He was bullied by 9th-12th graders.
If he had a nanny with him at the school, that probably made things even worse. He would be bullied because he has a nanny, and despite he has one to look after him.
In Part 2 we will discuss how all this affected him. Stay tuned.
#tony stark#iron man#marvel#mcu#the avengers#iron man 3#iron man 2#avengers age of ultron#captain america civil war#harley keener#phillips academy andover#edwin jarvis#howard stark#maria stark
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Tale As Old As Time
Playlist to read along with !!
songs used for inspo: The First Branch, Belle, Nice and Airy How Does a Moment Last Forever (music box), No Matter What,
art credit goes to Marbipa
this au is very heavily inspired from the 1991 movie, 2017 movie, and the musical, some things will seem similar and at times different, some parts of dialogue will be familiar, however it's for the sake of the plot. to summarize, this is basically a retelling of the story. I hope you guys enjoy!!
also let me know if you want to be on the taglist!!
<< prev. | ch.2 >>
Warnings: brief mention of character death, slight misogyny
word count: 1.9K
summary: life as the inventor's daughter
Chapter 1 : The Village
In a small province, east of the castle, there was a small village called Arachna,
This village is quite unique on its own as there are many people of different personalities, Men go to work and get an education and the women stay at home to learn how to be housewives and tend for children. Reading was considered wrong for women to read…Men didn’t want them to develop ideas or think for themselves and only solely focus on the children… However…At the edge of the village, at a small house lived an old inventor, he knew how to fix clocks, create music boxes, and most importantly invent. He would slave the day away just tinkering and figuring out new ideas on how to make life more comfortable and convenient, he proposed his ideas constantly to the villagers to help them make their lives a bit easier, but alas…the villagers called him a loon and demented for frivolous ideas. He would go home dejected, but his greatest pride and most precious invention would be at home; Y/N…
He had raised y/n all on his own after his wife passed away when y/n was 5. To his precious daughter, He promised himself that he wouldn’t shun her from her curiosity and instead showed her all there is to know. Y/N learned how to read, write, speak, analyze, and even sing a little, all due to her father’s promise that he made to her dying mother and to his daughter. Eventually, Y/N grew to be a lovely and beautiful woman. She’s kind, compassionate, loving, and even imaginative. She even has a huge affinity for reading and especially having a bit of a collection of books at home.
You may wonder, what is Y/N’s life like at her village
well it goes a bit like this…
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
A rooster crows in the distance, as the sun rises, signifying the day to begin..
Y/N has woken up and looked at her book beside her bedside table and smiles “well now...time to return this to the bookstore” she says softly to herself. She opens her curtains and opens the window, smelling the morning dew from the fresh air. Y/N gets dressed in her favorite blue dress, tying her hair in a low ponytail with a ribbon and walks downstairs to cook some breakfast for herself before leaving. She puts her book in a little basket and walks out and heads for the village. “Any moment now…before I hear-” she gets interrupted by the waking village “BUENOS DIAS MI GENTE”
Y/N rolls her eyes as she sees the empty streets quickly fill up with people with errands and work to do. She smells fresh wheat from the bakery, and she smiles as she thinks how the baker always sells his bread right on time. “Ah, Buenos Dias Y/N” the baker says. “Oh Buenos Dias, señor”, The Baker looks at her and smiles and asks, “where are you off to?” Y/N smiling and excited to tell him says “Oh I’m going to the bookstore! I just finished reading this amazing story about an ogre, a donkey, and a cursed princess-” she gets interrupted “oh that’s nice. OYE MARIA, LOS BOLILLOS” he ends up yelling to his wife in the bakery. Y/N shrugs and moves along her day.
The villagers see her and start whispering amongst themselves, they gossiped about how she would always read, always having her nose stuck in a book.However, they could all mutually agree that despite her odd personality, she’s truly a sight for sore eyes, a truly beautiful woman who sadly knows how to think.
Y/N arrives at the bookstore and opens the door, the bell on top of the door chiming, announcing her arrival. “Buenos Días señor ! vine a devolver el libro que me prestaron” she says handing the book back to the salesclerk with much care. The salesclerk laughs “ Already? Y/N my dear, it's only been since yesterday.” Y/N who was already on the ladder searching for another book looked down at him sheepishly “yea, well I couldn’t exactly put it down…” Her hand lands on a familiar blue book, she pulls it out of the bookshelf and hands it to the salesclerk “I’ll borrow this one !” The salesclerk looks at the title of the book and shakes his head, amused by her antics “you’ve read this book almost 2 times already, are you sure you want this book again ?” he says, while helping Y/N down the ladder. “Well I can’t help it, faraway places, tense sword fights, magic spells, and a prince in disguise”
The salesclerk chuckles and hands her the book “well if you like it so much it’s yours...” Y/N holds the book in her hands in excitement “I-I… are you sure?” she asks hesitantly. “I insist, please take it” he tells her. “Well then thank you, thank you so much!” Y/N leaves the bookstore happily, immediately opening to the first page.
While Y/N is in the distance walking with her new book, next to a tavern there is a strong, tall, blone, handsome brute of a man, checking himself out in the mirror, making sure that his looks are impeccable. “BEN! I caught your uhh…whatever this bird is, oh and some girls told me to tell you you’re an amazing hunter” says a shorter looking pudgy man to him.
“Why thank you Eddie for reminding me how perfect I am,” Ben says. Eddie nods as he pretends to agree with his own statement. “I bet that not even a beast or girl can handle you,” he says, feeding the man’s ego. Ben looks down at Eddie and grins “oh and that’s true as well, but my next hunt is that one over there” he says pointing at Y/N. Eddie looks at him a bit appalled and says, “the inventor’s daughter?” Ben then inhales and goes on a tangent “Why yes, Eddie…she’s the one I’m going to marry, the most beautiful girl in town. As soon as I met her, I knew that I have to make her my wife, a handsome man like me and a gorgeous woman like her are meant to be together” Eddie agrees with him reluctantly as he sees Venom speed walk to catch up with her.
Ben goes through a bustling market in order to reach Y/N who is easing her way through the crowd despite reading a book. “Please let me through” he said exasperated, not wanting to let Y/N out of his sight. Eventually he does finally reach her by climbing the roof of a house and landing right on his feet like the man he is. “Hello, Y/N” he says as his eyes scan her from head to toe. “Hola, Ben” she says in response while still focusing on her book. ben then smirks and quickly takes the book away from her hands to get her attention.
“Ben, por favor give back my book” she says politely. Ben ignores her by butting in her way and flipping the pages in the book “How do you read this… there’s no pictures…”
“Well if you read books then you would know that some people have something called an imagination”
Ben looks at her and throws the book somewhere as he tries to charm her “well Y/N, I believe it's finally time for you to stop reading books and pay attention to more…attractive things, like me” he says. “The whole town talks about it. It’s not proper for women to read...besides women thinking means they develop ideas and start assuming things” he says with a bit of a grimace on his face.
“Ay, Ben you’re so antediluvian.”
Y/N then reaches down to pick up her book and wipes the dirt off with a handkerchief. She turns around to keep on going back home but is stopped by Ben yet again as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, mentioning how she should join him at the tavern so that they could talk and bond. “Oh, but I can't. I have to go help my father, goodbye now” she says, as she walks away as fast as her feet can take her away from the brainless man.
A few minutes later after speed walking, Y/N sees smoke coming out of the basement and rushes there quickly. “PAPA!” She opens the basement door to let out the smoke and searches for her father “ay papa, que paso? estas bien?” she asks as she helps him get up from the floor “Ay Hijita, I'm fine... I just can’t get this piece of metal to start working” Y/N chuckles and kisses her father’s forehead “papa you always say that when you’re frustrated… Besides, if you get this to work… you can finally go to the contest and win that prize you’ve always wanted.”
Her father thinks for a while and nods “ you’re right…i shouldn’t give up, i’ll get a patent on this and i’ll finally be Mauricio, the greatest inventor ever seen!” Y/N smiles and hugs her father before leaving to let him finish his invention. “Oh right, papa did you…” she looks at him with a knowing look “yes I did mijita, it's upstairs at the kitchen table.” Y/N nods and dashes up inside the house and speeds to the kitchen. She stops when she looks at the table and smiles fondly. It was her mother’s old music box…now fixed after so many years…
Y/N sits by the table and winds up the music box and hums along to the melody being played remembering the lullaby her father used to sing to her before going to sleep as a child. She then looks up and sees her father smiling at her, enjoying the melody as well. “Papa…do you think i'm..odd ?” she says softly to him. Her father raises an eyebrow and sits beside her “y a donde sacaste eso??”
“People talk papa…” she says looking to the side. “Solecito…they talk about me too, we’re not odd at all…” He brings his hand to her shoulder to console her “you’re my daughter…and you’re mother’s daughter as well, They’re the common people and you…you’re unique Hija. No matter what you do I’m always on your side ok?” Y/N smiles and chuckles “are you sure that’s just not you being biased?” Her father laughs and shrugs “Maybe…maybe not…don’t ever change who you are, ok?” Y/N smiles and nods “ok papa” A few days later, Y/N’s father was finished with his invention and had prepared the wagon, placing some food, medicine, horse fodder, and his invention all neatly placed inside the wagon. As he adds the saddle onto Felipe’s back, placing the reins properly on the horse’s side. He then looks at Y/N and smiles “Hijita…what do you wish for me to bring back for you? Shall it be jewelry, or dresses, or new perfumes?” Y/N thinks for a minute and says, “A rose, like the one mama had embroidered on her dress” He chuckles “But, you ask for that every year. Y/N smiles as she looks at her father “and yet every year you’ll bring it...” “Fine then, you’ll have my word, adios por ahora y/n” he says as he gently caresses his daughter’s cheek. “Adios Papa...” Y/N would watch her father ride up the hill into the distance.
“Stay Safe...”
taglist: @cupcakeinat0r , @miguelhugger2099, @mcmiracles, @xxsugarbonesxx,@codenameredkrystalmatrix,@deputy-videogamer,@lxverrings,@miguelzslvtz,@itsameclinicaldepression
#atsv miguel#miguel o'hara x reader#spiderman 2099#miguel o'hara#miguel x reader#miguel atsv#miguel ohara x reader#miguel ohara#miguel spiderman#miguel spiderverse#miguel 2099
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The interview
90sRadiohost!Eddie Munson x fem!reader
Summary: You decided to have a little fun with your boyfriend while he's busy during an interview.
Warnings: smut, hurt/comfort 90s!Eddie, tommy lee, oral (female & male receiving), slight throat fucking, some dirty talk. orgasm denial. Jealous reader. If I missed anything, please let me know nicely.
Workd cound: little over 4.1k
Mini series masterlist
A/n: Not proofread. Ignore any mistakes. This was kind of rushed, but I hope you all still enjoy it. I recommend at least reading the first fic, but you really don't have to to understand this.
18+ minors dni
Year 1991
Eddie had been teasing you all day. His hands kept inching up your skirt while you were busy organizing his desk. In between commercial breaks, he would lean over and whisper the filthiest things in your ear. He was trying to get prepared for his interview later today, but he couldn't help himself when it came to you. You could tell he was nervous. He always got nervous before a really big interview.
Any time you worked in the studio with him, his hands never left your skin. He was constantly touching you. He'd bend you over his desk before or after his show and take you slow or hard. Depending on his work day.
Today was no different. Even with his anxiety spiked high, Eddie still couldn't take a second to try something with you. You've never dated someone who made you feel this desirable before. The way he looked at you was enough to have you giving in.
You were straighting paper next to him while he was talking to someone who called in for some advice.
"Yeah, but she's got all of these toys. I feel like I'm being replaced." The man on the opposite end of the phone complained. He had called in because he found his girlfriends sex toys, and now he's insecure about them.
Eddie leaned back in his chair and rolled his eyes. He looked over at you and bit his lip before responding. "Her vibrators are not your competition. They're your friend. Use them."
The mention of vibrators reminds you both immediately of your first introduction together. The phone call that started it all and a romance blossomed soon after.
"So is that all you called to cry about?" Eddie smirked. He keeps eyeing you up and down as you straighten up his mess.
"Uhh yeah man, that's all." The man awkwardly replied. You could tell he felt embarrassed now after Eddie said what he said to him.
You felt kind of bad for him. But Eddie was always harder on the men who called in than the women. He'd always tell you most of the time the women needed reassurance, and the guys were just selfish assholes in bed. He wasn't a dick to all of them who called for help just the ones who deserved it. The guy that just called in got it the worst from Eddie.
He had been practically sweating bullets all day long about this interview. Some of the callers were getting his smart ass remarks the most because of it. Eddie wasn't like that with you. All day, he tried to have you in some way.
"Come on, baby. They'll never hear you whimperin' my name with Megadeth playing. Jus' let me taste you." He whined and begged.
You immediately shook your head. "You stay back Munson."
Eddie pouted, pushing his bottom lip out. He got on his hands and knees crawling over to you. You couldn't help but smile and try to back away from him in your chair.
"Ah ah baby, get back here. All I wanna do is make my cute girl cum on my tongue. That's all." Eddie tried to make it sound so innocent as he grabbed at your ankle to pull you back.
He's grinning from ear to ear. "You like keepin' your man starvin?"
"I swear to God, Eddie." You giggled and squirmed. His hand had such a tight grip on your leg.
"I've fucked you on that desk so many times. Let me lick your pussy for a little while. It'll help with my jangled nerves." He made his voice low and seductive. Just the way you like it. He knew how to send a shiver up your spine. "What if I laid back on the floor, and you got to ride my face?"
"Eddie, I'm warning you." You tried to sound serious, but your smile gave it away. You liked it when he talked to you like this.
Eddie crawled his way up to you while you sat in your rolling chair, throwing your legs over his shoulders. Your skirt drapping over his head. You could hear him hum to himself and with one finger pushed your panties to the side. His tongue darting out to lick a long strip up your wet folds.
You gripped at the arm rests "maybe just for a little while."
"Thank you, baby." His voice muffled under your skirt. He kept your panties pushed to the side while his tongue flicked over your aching clit.
"Goddamn sweetheart you're always so fucking wet for me" Eddie practically groaned at the sight before him.
You tried so hard, not to moan. Which only spurred Eddie on more. The thought of his co-workers and boss hearing you both outside that door turned him on so much. Having you screaming his name while his face was buried between your thighs. He could cum in pants just imagining it. He has before when all alone in that tiny studio. With nothing to occupy himself but his dirty thoughts of you.
Eddie gave your clit a quick kiss before wrapped his plump lips around it sucking softly. You gasped before one of your hands flew to tug and pull at his hair."
"Mmmm--Eddie!." You covered your own mouth to quiet a moan. He sucked even harder when he noticed you were trying to be quiet. Your eyes flutter closed. You tried to put one of your feet to the floor and get away from him.
"Where ya goin' baby?" He lifted his head from out under your skirt and yanks you roughly back to his mouth. He lapped at your wet folds before going back to your clit.
You tried to push his head away only to end up pulling him closer. Your thighs shake as they hang over his broad shoulders.
"Eddie, don't stop." You mewled. You kept your voice as low as possible. You could feel him smiling against you. You know he enjoys seeing the effect he has on you.
Just as he really got into it, there was a loud bang at the door. Eddie lifted his head out from under your skirt once again. He looked to you and then back to the door, waiting for another knock. Two more loud bangs rattled the hinges and he was quick on his feet.
"Fuck." He muttered under his breath while answering. Eddie swung open the door to come face to face with his boss.
"We have Tommy Lee on in five for that interview. Stop fucking around in here." His boss scolded him and you.
"Yea yea no one cares, but alright." He slammed the door back closed. He was frustrated that he had to stop what he was in the middle of doing. "We'll finish after this, I promise."
You nodded and fixed yourself back up, trying to regain composure. "Don't worry about it."
Eddie shot you look but couldn't say anything as he put his headphones on and got close to his mic again.
"Welcome back. Everyone, hope you enjoyed that little break, but now we're about to talk with Tommy Lee." He greeted his listeners back after a few songs.
You handed Eddie his notes for the interview. He really didn't want to talk to him but knew his boss would kick his ass if he didn't. You snorted when he looked annoyed. His face still glistening from your slick. You picked up a napkin and went to clean off his face. He quickly grabbed at your wrist, mouthing "no," so you mouthed "fine" right back. Which earned you a small laugh from him before he playfully swatted your ass making you yelp.
You let him get situated as a little idea popped in your head. Since he loves to tease and torment you all the time. Since he just can't seem to keep those hands off of you. Maybe you'll show him a little "appreciation."
"Hey Tommy, so uhh tell us what's it like with the new lead singer you guys got now?" Eddie looked over his questions he was allowed to ask. They were the same dull, bland questions every interviewer did.
You could tell he was bored out of his mind. He did not want to do this at all. You were going to wait until for a song break or even after his show went off air. But the looks of pure agony on his face made you pity him in this moment.
Eddie was currently leaning back in his chair, his feet propped up on the table, struggling to untangle his yoyo. The notes resting on his lap, as he asked them in a monotone voice.
"Yeah, it's going good so far, different sound, but I think our fans are digging him so far." Tommy sighed into his phone. You could also tell he didn't want to do the interview with Eddie.
You walk over, tapping his feet. He immediately drops them to the floor on command. You pick up his interview notes, placing them nicely on the table. He thinks you're trying to keep him looking professional, but you had other plans.
You smiled and moved behind him to whisper in his ear. "Will you let me suck your cock?"
His eyes buldge out of his skull. "NOW?"
He practically yelled into the mic while Tommy was discussing Motley's new album.
You nodded and went back in front of him to get on your knees between his legs. His hand moved to your face, and his thumb smoothed across your bottom lip. You took it in your mouth sucking it gently. Earning you a low whimper from him.
"Oh my bad, sorry." Eddie spoke, clearing his throat. He snatched his thumb from your mouth. "You were saying?"
Your hands start rubbing his thighs up and down. You could tell he was trying so hard to hold it together. He pinched the bridge of his nose, getting frustrated with himself and you.
"I've been a good girl. Can I pretty please have your cock in my throat?" You whisper.
You forward to kiss his prominent buldge straining in his jeans. He dropped his head down, and his headphones slipped off and landed on his desk. Eddie fumbled around to put them back on. He prayed no one heard any of that.
Eddie's expression was something of shock and lust. He's not used to you being this forward. Normally, he had to work you up to get you like this. You're getting brave, and he couldn't be happier.
You slowly unzipped his pants. Your eyes never left his, and his eyes never left yours. It was like he was in some sort of trance watching you. He wasn't even paying attention to the interview anymore. Everything Tommy was saying fell on deaf ears. His focus was solely on you. You glance over at the mic, signaling him he needed to focus.
"Baby, please." He pleaded covering up the mic so no one can hear. You freed his painfully hard cock out of his pants. He let out a sigh of brief relief. His pants were getting increasingly uncomfortable the harder he became.
Licking your lips, you take him in your hand and kiss his leaking tip as you begin sucking it. Your tongue swirling around the head, cleaning off every bit of his precum. He rolled his head to the side. Eddie's struggling to remain calm and collected for this interview. His boss will kill him if he fucks this up.
You stopped and pulled your mouth away slightly to spit right on his cock. Using your spit and the little bit of his precum as lubricant. You gave him a few good strokes twisting your wrists pumping cock. He gulps as he watches you. Beads of sweat coated his forehead making his bangs stick to his skin. His hands were gripping hard onto the table. His knuckles turning white. His rings scratch at the surface.
"I can't wait to have you inside me." You teased. Your voice low enough under the table for only him to hear. "Thinkin' about you struggling to fit it all in at once."
You take his cock in your mouth slowly until he hit the back of your throat. You stayed still for a moment, allowing yourself to breathe through your nose.
He lets out a shakey breath and covers up the mic once more. "I'm gonna make you feel every inch. You just wait until I get your ass home."
You smiled around his cock at his threat. Can't be much of a threat if you'd enjoy every second of it.
"So Tommy!" Eddie piped up with too much enthusiasm even for him.
You began bobbing your head up and down, taking him as deep in your mouth as he could go. You moaned when one of his hands rested on the back of your head. Drool was spilling from the corners of your mouth and down your chin. The head of his cock hitting so far at the back of your throat.
"I-I HEARD--" He stuttered after you swallowed around him. "I heard you guys are planning a tour."
Eddie was quick to fix himself. This whole interview, he had been battling to stay on task. His abs flexed when you reached to push up his t-shirt. He's biting his lip hard enough to draw blood.
Your mouth working on him lazily giving the messiest blow job you could. Your spit dripping down from your chin onto the tuft of soft curls peeking out from under his pants. Your nose nestled into the them, taking in his musky scent.
"Uh huh yeah, a tour within the next year or so." You could hear Tommy's distorted voice over the speakers.
"Ohmyfuckinggod...." Eddie grunted through gritted teeth. His jaw clenching.
Your mouth sucking on his cock harder. Your head moving up and down faster. One of your other hands creeped higher under his shirt to pinch his nipples. His face is beet red. All he wants to do is shut off his mic and moan out your name. The fact that he can't properly give you any praise is driving him insane.
Eddie shakes his head, taking a long, deep breath. The interview is almost over. Couple more questions, and he can let go.
"I--I mean, very exciting to hear that as well. He laughed slightly. Not at what Tommy says, but at the disbelief of what you're doing to him right now.
Usually, it's the other way around. Nine times out of ten Eddie is the one with his cock buried in you while hes live on his show. You've gotten so bold and brave over this last year of dating. He wasn't complaining.
Eddie's just so used to the shy girl he first met. But then again, you did call him and have your first orgasm on his radio show with hundreds of people listening in. That boldness was always there.
You pinched his nipple harder and ran your fingernails down his abdomen, leaving a tiny red trails behind. He bucked his hips roughly pushing his cock further in your throat. Nearly causing the back of your head to hit the table. His cock throbbing and pulsating in your mouth.
You pulled him almost all the way out. Your lips wrapped perfectly around his sensitive tip, still sucking firmly on it. Taking your other hand you stroke his cock giving you're throat a break for a couple of minutes. His strangled moans are enough to make you want to keep going.
Your lips leave his tip for you to whisper up at him. "You wanna fuck me so bad right now. It's driving you crazy that you cant."
"Oooh my god, you're gonna get it--fking hell, you're gonna get it." He growled lowly, covering his mic with a shakey hand.
The corners of your mouth quirked up when your hand starts pumping his cock faster. A line of spit connecting from your lips and to his head. Your mouth and chin covered in drool. It was a sight to see, and he was mesmerized by it. He hastily snaps out of it and readjusts his headphones.
Eddie cackles into the mic and runs a hand down his face. "Tommy, tell me about your love life really quick...saw that hot blonde on your arm recently."
"She's good. we're thinking about getting married." Tommy announced to Eddie and the show.
Eddie looks down at you and pats your head. "I saw her in that music video last year. I can see why you'd want to marry her."
"She's uhhh somethin" else." He whistled, fixing his collar as if he was getting hot thinking about her.
He stops patting your head to cup your jaw gently.
You stop stroking his cock taking your hand away. You slip him back in your mouth, relaxing your throat, taking him in inch by inch again. You swallowed hard around him purposely. His body twitching from the sensation. Your mouth felt amazing and so warm.
"Ahh...uhhmm--well, that's good." He blurted out. Eddie felt like he was going to burst at any moment. Your throat closed around him each time you took him further down. "Hey man, listen, we gotta cut to a small intermission."
"No no it's cool." Tommy laughed in the phone.
"On our small intermission how about we play somethin' this next song is called "a letter to Elise by the cure"
You continued to bob your head as if you weren't preoccupied with what he said. That tinge of jealousy coursing through your veins. Your face was growing hot, replaying what he said about that girl.
The lustful look in his eyes when talked about the music video she was in. It pissed you off but also made you incredibly sad, too. You try to keep those feelings at bay and pay no mind to them. Eddie pushed his chair away from the table to give you more room. You move around on your knees following him.
"Fuck baby, you're doing so good." He purred, relaxing back.
His hips bucking up thrusting his cock in your mouth. He repeated his movements over and over. His cock going down your throat feverishly with little to no warnings. Eddie wasn't rough, but he wasn't gentle about it either. He was tired of all the teasing. Tears springing to your eyes each time his cock slides down your throat harder. You could tell he was getting close. You could sense it.
"Love you, s'much sweet girl." Eddie brought his hand out to caress and wipe your tears. He smiled warmly down at you. You were still feeling jealous by his comment towards Tommy's girlfriend.
Eddie groaned, rolling his head from side to side. His mouth hanging open. "Shiiiiiiit I'm gonna cum."
"You're gonna be my good girl and swallow it?....maybe if you're lucky ill cum on your tits later. He chuckled a cocky smile appearing on his face.
You look up at him through your lashes and whined. His hand on your hair, and he roughly pushes you down on him and pulls you back up. Your mouth making the sloppiest wet sounds while fucked your throat. You had to stop. Your emotions were beginning to be too much.
Your eyebrows furrowed, and you released him from your mouth with a loud wet pop. You slapped his hands away from your head. You coughed and gasped, trying to catch your breath. You weren't going to let him cum. Not after what he said about some other girl he clearly liked a lot.
You stomped over to your chair and sat down, crossing your arms over your chest. Eddies mouth drops open in shock, too stunned to speak. His cock laying flat against his belly coated with your spit just begging for your attention.
"Baby, why'd you stop?" He rasped. His face full of concern at your sudden attitude. He doesn't know what he did or said to make you upset. Where you upset at how rough he was being with you? You normally liked it when he used your throat like that.
That hint of jealousy is getting stronger, and you can't help but not ignore it any longer.
"Nothing," you scowled, not daring to look over at him.
His chest rose and fell fast. He's panting and trying to catch his breath. He was so close cumming until you removed him completely from your throat.
"Something is obviously wrong. Talk to me." He spoke tenderly. He didn't care about finishing at the moment. All he cared about was you and fixing whatever it was that upset you.
"Why don't you ask his girlfriend to help you cum." You sneered still looking ahead.
"Is that what this is about?" Eddie grinned but quickly got rid of it. He knew better than to let you see him smiling. He wasn't laughing at you. He just thought it was kind of cute how you are obviously jealous over that.
"Sweetheart, come here."
You gave him a side eye and saw he was motioning you over to him. You rolled your eyes and got up to sit down in his lap.
His hands instinctively go to hold your waist. His chin resting on your shoulder with those big brown eyes of his looking up at you. You resisted the urge to look at him.
"Now you know because I said that doesn't mean I want her. You're my whole world baby." Eddie kissed your neck, trying his best to reassure you.
"You didn't have to say it while I was busy doing.....that to you." You finally looked back at him, and that's when he saw the hurt in your eyes.
he knows where he screwed up, but he was just doing his job. He truly didn't mean it. He has to flatter the guests. Inflate their already too big of an ego. Give them a bigger head than what they already had.
"Sweetheart, that was inappropriate, but you have to remember this is just part of my job. I have to say these things, it's just my radio persona." Eddie explained in a calm manner. He didn't want you being hurt by anything he said.
You know this is part of his job, but for some reason, that really did hurt you and filled you with so much jealousy. You know that type of stuff comes with the territory of what he does for a living. You used to listen to his show all the time before you got together.
You should be used to it by now. For the most part, you are. You chalked up your problem with him saying that to that stupid face he made when thinking about her as his cock was in your mouth. It made you feel like he was picturing her doing that to him and not you.
You look down picking at your nails. "I know. I don't know why it bothered me it just did....I guess I thought you were thinking of her while I was doing that to you."
He shakes head but lets you finish before speaking. "You're the only one I want and need. You're the only girl I've ever been with that makes my heart skip a beat every time you look at me. You're the only person I think about day and night. Always. You're my first thought in the morning and my last thought before bed."
Eddie hooks a finger under your chin to make you look at him again. You fight back the tears that threaten to spill from your eyes.
"You really mean all of that?" You sniffle leaning back against his chest.
He held you tighter to him. "I've never lied to you once, and I don't plan on starting now."
You smiled, playing with the ends of his long curly hair. "Did--You want me to help you finish?"
"I'll be okay. All I want to do is hold you. Can I do that?" He turns his head to kiss your forehead and rubs your back soothingly.
"Yeah, you can hold me." You got yourself more comfortable in his lap. If he wanted to coddle you, then you'll let him and milk it for all its worth.
Eddie's hold was strong, almost like he was afraid if he let go, you'd dissappear. He doesn't like seeing you this way. You're beautiful and have no reason to ever question his loyalty to you. Especially over dumb questions, his boss hounds him to ask.
"The interview will be over before you know it, then I'm all yours." He exhaled, resting his head on top of yours. You felt horrible for what you did earlier. The guilt finally settled in.
He shifts in his seat. "Don't worry, I'm gonna have you begging for me in the back of my van after this. I don't think I can wait to get you home."
You knew he wasn't exaggerating either. He's been craving you all day long, and he's not going to pass up on any opportunity to have you. He's also feels bad about hurting you and wants to worship every part of your body.
Eddie needs you to understand just how much he loves you. He's always been better at showing you than telling you. His love language has always been touch and music. So you'll be getting all of that and more tonight.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#joseph quinn#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things#eddie munson smut#90s!eddie munson#eddie munson x reader fluff#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x fem!reader smut#eddie munson x f!reader
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On Gothic
a cute helpful guide on the gothic subculture that no one asked for <3
goth music springing from the late 1970s after the post punk movement was a subculture heavily inspired by the themes found in victorian gothic literature
gothic literature:
frankenstein - mary shelley
dracula - bram stoker
jekyll and hyde - robert stevenson
wuthering heights - emily bronte
rebecca - daphne du maurier
edgar allen poe <3
some keywords that come from gothic literature that can help you spot a goth song:
'dark' 'death' 'black' 'cold' 'heaven' 'hell' 'witches 'bats' 'night' 'roses' 'blood' 'church' 'forest' 'jesus' 'grey' 'horror' 'shadow' 'sacrifice' 'tears' 'ghost' 'spells' 'cry' 'love' 'haunted' 'funeral' 'cathedral'
Some other themes in a song that can help you to decide if it goth or not can be:
heavy bass
synth sounds (the song sounds like it was recorded in an empty church)
mysterious and whimsical vocals
deep vocals
lack of a (electric) guitar
The 1980's and 90's were the peak for the gothic subculture, especially in camden market, london, england
Some bands that were prominent at the time were...
Bauhaus
The Cure
Sisters of Mercy
Siouxsie and the Banshees
Christian Death
Clan of Xymox
The Cramps
Depeche Mode
New Order
Joy Division
Alien Sex Fiend
Fields of the Nephilim
Killing Joke
The Damned
Nick Cave
Softcell
Some other goth band recs:
Boy Harsher
Children on Stun
Earth Calling Angela
Molchat Doma
Forever Grey
Horror Vacui
Lebanon Hanover
London After Midnight
Male Tears
The March Violets
The Merry Thoughts
Paradise Lost
Paralysed Age
Plastique Noir
Rendez Vous
Rosetta Stone
Selofan
She Wants Revenge
Skinny Puppy
Specimen
This Cold Night
Tragic Black
Traitrs
Type O Negative
Twin Tribes
ULTRA SUNN
Xmal Deutschland
Your Funeral
The 69 Eyes
Please let me know which ones i've missed because these are just ones that I have taken from my own playlist!
The music is the number one most important part of goth subculture and you don't have to dress goth to be goth... but it sure is fun to do so! Goth fashion holds its roots in thrifting, upcycling and sustainable fashion (buying 'goth' clothes from shein, dollskill and killstar is a big no no).
Anyone can style their gothic outfits however they like but here are some examples of different styles:
Trad(itional) Goth:
Romantic Goth:
Victorian Goth:
The styles can get very similar so let me know if i’ve mixed any up!
I’ve reached the limit on the number of pictures i can add so here are some more examples of goth styles:
Corporate goth
Gothabilly
Mall Goth
Cyber Goth
J-Goth
Baby Bat
Mopey Goth
Vampire Goth
Steam punk
To end the post i'm circling back to gothic literature by listing some films too (which are often based on the books)
Everyone's beloved: Bela Lugosi in the first adaptation of Bram Stoker's Dracula in 1931
The Crow 1994 which comes with a song from The Cure
Interview with the Vampire 1994
The Rocky Horror Picture Show 1975
Edward Scissor Hands 1990
The Addams family 1991 (if he's not like gomez then i don't want him)
The Craft 1996
That's all I have for now and if you made it this far thank you so much for reading and have a nice day <3
current goth song on repeat:
#goth#gothic#goth aesthetic#goth fashion#romantic goth#corporate goth#mall goth#victorian gothic#goth girl#gothabilly#dracula#frankenstein#bauhaus#sisters of mercy#type o negative#joy division#the cure#siouxsie and the banshees#alternative#edgar allan poe#camden market#depeche mode#new order#christian death#boy harsher#j goth#baby bat#the crow 1994#the addams family#the craft
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Bushroot(1991) & Bushroot(2017)
(Ik this trend is old but let me have fun w/ it too :'] )
Here's without the text-
A little something for the Bushroot fans / Darkwing Duck fans out there, hope y'all enjoy. :'>
(I'll probably draw him in my own style.. But only time will tell. We'll meet again soon as I disappear into the void. 🫡)
#darkwing duck#darkwing duck 1991#dr reginald bushroot#bushroot#reginald bushroot#dwd#dwd91#dt 2017#disney#digital art#silly#he's me fr#90s#darkwing duck bushroot#art#fearsome five
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hate to remember you like this
for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'angst with a happy ending' rated m wc: 1000 cw: mention of car accident, medical emergency, temporary amnesia tags: post-break up, assumed unrequited feelings, getting back together
------------------------------
"Eddie, it's Steve."
Robin's words echoed in his head as he boarded the plane.
He left Steve three years ago because Steve told him to go, told him that if his dreams were so big that he couldn't stay then he had to leave and not come back.
Steve refused to talk to him since, refused to visit when all the kids came to his shows, refused to show up to Christmas at Wayne's.
So he shouldn't be on this flight to see Steve.
But Robin had insisted that Steve asked for him, and Eddie couldn't ignore the immediate need to be there for him.
Despite time, distance, and the constant feelings of regret mixed with heartbreak and anger, he still only wanted Steve.
He didn't know what happened, just that Steve had been in a medically induced coma for over 24 hours and the moment he woke up, he was begging for someone to get Eddie.
Robin had mentioned that he didn't seem to have all of his memories, but didn't tell him any details on which memories he may be missing.
He sat in his seat and hoped that whatever he was walking into would be closure for his heart.
--------------------------------
The kids were all sitting in the waiting room when he arrived at the hospital.
The moment Will saw him, hell broke loose.
"Who called you?" he asked.
"Robin. Are they letting people back?" Eddie asked.
"You shouldn't be here," Will said.
Eddie looked at his stance and couldn't help but smile. Will had grown incredibly protective of Steve after Eddie left, much to everyone's surprise.
"He asked for me. I promised I'd come if he ever needed me."
Everyone was quiet for a moment.
"Room 186. He was awake a little while ago, but they're only letting two people in at a time and Robin and Joyce have been with him for the last hour."
"Thanks."
Room 186 wasn't far down the hall. He could hear Joyce's motherly tone fussing while Robin sounded like she was rambling to herself.
When he walked into the room, his breath caught in his throat.
Steve was bruised, and half of his head was wrapped in bandages that looked like they needed to be changed.
But he gave Eddie a soft smile.
A smile he didn't deserve.
"Baby, tell Joyce to stop worrying herself to death over me. I'm fine."
Baby.
Robin and Joyce glanced over at Eddie, waiting for his reaction.
"I got it from here, Joyce," Eddie smiled at her and Robin, understanding coming over him swiftly.
"Alright, Eddie's got ya for a bit, but I'll be in the waiting room if you need me," Robin said, patting Steve's hand.
She gave Eddie a death glare on her way out of the room, silently suggesting that he would need a room at the hospital if he dared to hurt Steve in any way.
He sat down next to Steve, taking in his injuries.
"What took you so long?" Steve asked him, pouting slightly.
"Sorry, sweetheart. Got caught up with the band."
"But it's Wednesday. You don't have practice on Wednesdays."
Eddie sighed.
"Stevie, what year is it?" Had no one checked him for a concussion at any point in the last 12 hours?
"1988."
"It's 1991. You remember my band made it?" Eddie was going to get murdered by Robin for ruining whatever fantasy Steve's mind had settled on.
"What? But-" Steve's brows drew together as he tried to work through his own thoughts and memories. "You guys made it?"
"Yeah, we did."
They sat in silence while Steve processed.
Eddie felt the moment his memory started to come back, the room suddenly going cold.
"You left."
"Steve-"
"You left me," his voice broke, much like it had the night he screamed at Eddie as he walked out the door.
"I did."
"Why'd you come?"
"You asked me to. I'll always come when you ask."
Steve looked at him, his eyes heavy from whatever cocktail of drugs were flowing through his system, glassy with unshed tears.
"Then why did you leave?"
"You asked me to."
"I wanted you to stay. I always wanted you to stay."
"I wanted you to come with me."
They were both tense, Eddie's hands curled into fists against his thighs and Steve's body curling in on itself, preparing for a fight Eddie wasn't going to give him.
"I couldn't."
"I know."
"So, you'll leave again and I'll stay?" Steve asked, choking back a wet sound that Eddie recognized as a sob.
"I'll be here as long as you need me."
Steve searched his face.
"Why now?"
"Because you asked. Because I know what it's like to leave you and I know it's not worth missing you." Eddie gulped. "Because I love you too much to walk away from you again. Not unless it's what you want."
"I never want that."
"Then I'll be right here," Eddie reached for his hand, holding it gently in his own.
"You can't, though. You made it, Eds."
"I'll figure it out. We'll figure it out. Okay?"
Steve stayed silent for a while, but didn't pull his hand away.
"You'll stay while we figure it out?" he finally asked.
"Yeah. As long as it takes."
"Seal it with a kiss?" Steve asked, the way he did when he asked for Eddie to promise that he'd take out the trash, or stop at the store, or love him always.
Eddie leaned in and pressed his lips to Steve's.
Steve smiled as he pulled away.
"First thing to figure out: a new car."
"You totaled it?"
"She was good to me for so long. Unfortunately, she took things worse than I did."
Hard to believe looking at how swollen and bruised most of Steve was.
But they sat and talked through his plans for another car, something he could take on longer road trips to visit all the kids at school, see a few of Eddie's shows.
They'd figure it out.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#steddieholidaydrabbles#angst with a happy ending
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Yours (Extended)
Sebastian Vettel x Reader
Words: 6.2K
Warnings: Strong language, toxic/addict parent, anxiety, angst, fluff
A/N: I've finally finished it. This was my favourite piece I ever wrote and I felt like it deserved more than I originally gave it. Please let me know what you think!
1991
"(Y/N) Come on!" Sebastian yelled as he pulled me towards the karts, my legs going as fast as they could. He passed me a bright yellow helmet and his dad helped me fasten the strap.
We climbed into the karts and I followed Sebastian around until I got the hang over it and then it became a race. I managed to overtake him a couple of times but he was far better than me already. We kept going until the karts ran out of petrol and Seb's dad said we couldn't fill them up and go again. We took off our helmets and he gave me a massive hug.
"You were so quick!"
"You were faster! You could be like Senna!" I said, his face lighting up as I spoke.
When we got home we sat on the sofa and watched old recordings of races that his dad had until we fell asleep.
1993
"Get the fucking door!" I got off my bed and ran down the stairs, realising mum had been shouting at me. Dad must've gone out. Lucky. I opened the door and Seb was stood at the door with his dopey grin, holding something behind his back.
"Mum I'm going to Seb's!" I shouted before closing the door behind me. I wrapped my arms around him as tight as I could.
"You're back! How was Italy? How was the race! I saw it on tv!" I babbled as I pulled away. He pulled a long floppy bunny teddy from behind his back.
"I got this for you!" I chuckled as my body felt with warmth. I took the bunny from him and gave it a hug.
"I shall call him Sir Floppy." I beamed. Seb told me all about his holiday as we walked back to his house. His mum called me crazy for having no shoes on, I just didn't want Seb to see my mum. She'd been acting different recently.
They said I could stay there the night if I wanted, Seb's mum went to the phone to call my mum and ask but I jumped up and rushed over to her.
"It's okay I can do it," I said quickly, picking up the phone and dialled my house.
"Hello?"
"Hi Mum, c-can I stay at Seb's tonight please?"
"Yeah whatever, stay there forever for all I care," she slurred. I went to open my mouth but she hung up. I put the phone down and sat back at the table.
"She said it's okay," I said quietly, picking up Sir Floppy and staring at him, wanting that warm feeling to come back.
Seb and I laid in bed that night after his mum tucked us in, despite Sebastian's protests, I liked it. I don't think my mum ever tucked me in before. I cuddled Sir Floppy and stared at the ceiling.
"Can I ask you something?" I rolled onto my side to see Seb facing me.
"What is it?" I whispered.
"Are you okay? You seemed very sad earlier... when you were on the phone." I stared at him, an uncomfortable feeling in my stomach, it made me feel sick. He reached out and held my hand, a small frown on his face.
"I don't-" I paused, the feeling in my stomach reaching my throat. "I don't think my mum likes me." The words spilled out, making it real in my mind. A gentle squeeze to my hand tore me from the feeling in my throat.
"Then she's crazy, cause you're the best. My mum says it all the time, and I think you're amazing too." He shuffled over and hugged me and Sir Floppy, the warm feeling coming back, my body beginning to relax.
I woke up that morning to Seb fast asleep but his hand still in mine.
1995
I ran out onto the street, leaving the door wide open and my feet shoeless. I got to the end of the street and pounded my fist on the door until it opened and Sebastian's smile faded to a soft frown.
"They said no didn't they?" his voice barely audible. I nodded, finally noticing the tears streaming down my face. He took my hand and pulled me inside and upstairs to his room, shouting to his mum that I would be staying the night. We sat on the floor in silence for a while, apart from the occasional sniffle that would escape, our fingers entwined still. The sick feeling was in my stomach again, I had been getting used to it.
"Mum said 'A lady has no place in a mans world. The lady supports, the man drives.' It's so unfair, why is it a mans world? And I'm far from a lady! Dad just said we couldn't afford it."
"It shouldn't be like this, I wish you were coming with me." A heavy pain sat in my heart at the realization. "I'm barely gonna see you anymore now," I whispered.
"I'm gonna make sure I see you every school holiday and every time I'm home. And I'll make sure you can come to races when you can! I promise that I will send you lots of letters too." I gave a wobbly smile and I threw my arms around his neck and sobbed into his t-shirt.
--------------------------------------------------
To (Y/N)
Mum just told me you're coming to the next race! I can't wait to see you! I hope this letter arrives in time, otherwise this is gonna be pointless when you read it. I also overheard mum and dad talking last night, I'm sorry your mum left. I'll make sure you have the best weekend and forget all about it for a little bit. Keep your head up and see you next week!
From your Sebastian
P.S Please bring me some brownies from the bakery, I haven't had them in so long!
1996
To Seb
I hope you're having fun and winning every race! I really miss you and I feel really lonely at the moment. Mums stopped coming to see me and dad is really mad, he's screaming the house down right now. Your cd helps me drown it out, thank you for buying it for me, it's my absolute favourite. Do you know when you're next coming home? We could have a sleepover and go to the cinema and see the new Matilda film! Tell your mum and dad that I love them and that I miss them as well. Sometimes I wish they could be my parents.
Hopefully I hear from you soon!
From your (Y/N)
To (Y/N)
I'm sorry your mum is being rubbish, you deserve better. Mum says hopefully we should be able to come visit next month and you can stay with us for the whole time if you like? And I would love to go to the cinema, I'll make sure to re-read Matilda before I come back. I really miss you too, everyone I race with is nice but it's not the same as hanging out with you. I've found some more cd's for you and I really think that you'll like them. Mum and dad say they love you more and they miss you so so much. I'll try and call you later in the week, we've been getting home so late I've been having dinner then going straight to bed.
From your Sebastian
1997
To Sebastian
Is it true you aren't coming back this summer at all? I thought we were going to go camping? We've been planning this for months! You know I've been saving up for a tent for us. You haven't called in two weeks, what did I do? Do you hate me? I miss you, everything sucks here. Please just write back or call.
From your (Y/N)
---------------------------------------------------
"(Y/N)! Phone!" Dad called from the bottom of the stairs. I jumped off my bed and bolted down the stairs as if my life depended on it, snatching the phone off my dad and pulling it into the coat closet and closing the door, making sure not to get the cord stuck in the door.
"Sebastian?" I said out of breath as I sat down on the floor.
"I just got your letter I don't hate you I promise!" he practically shouted down the phone.
"Where have you been Seb? Why can't you come camping? You just disappeared!"
"I'm really sorry, I've been super busy lately and I haven't had the time to write and mum lost her mobile and nowhere round here sells them. Dad gave this guy at the pub a tenner so I could call you off of his phone." I let out a small chuckle, I think I missed his mum just as much as I missed him. "Mum said we don't have the time to be able to fit the trip in now but she promised next time we come home we will. I'm trying to convince her to bring you here for a couple weeks."
"I hope so, I really miss you."
"I miss you too, I've got to give this guy his phone back now he's getting shouty. I'm writing you a letter now I just needed you to know I didn't hate you! See you soon!"
"Bye Seb."
1999
The home time bell rang and I packed my books into my bag before trudging my way out of the classroom. I walked behind Mathilda and the trio of sheep that are practically clones of herself. They were all giggling away about the sleepover they were having tonight, the one that she made sure to tell me I was definitely not invited to, not that I was expecting an invitation, but I knew she was telling me to hurt me. I wasn't hurt I guess, I mean it would be nice to be invited to a sleepover for once but I'd rather stay at home alone than be ridiculed all night by the wicked bitch of the west.
I kept my head down as I walked out the gates, hoping Mathilda wouldn't notice me so I could walk home in peace but a tap on my shoulder caused me to let out a large sigh, really for her barrage of insults. I turned around and all of a sudden I thought I was dreaming.
"Oh my god!" I screamed before jumping into Sebastian's arms, being twirled around like something out of the movies. A chorus of giggles made my body go cold and the beautiful reunion felt ruined. Seb put me down and I looked over to see Mathilda and the others laughing and pointing at me. That horrible feeling returning to my stomach.
"Hey Seb, we're having a sleepover tonight, wouldn't you rather hang out with us rather than that loser." I did everything I could to make sure no tears filled my eyes, not wanting to give them any satisfaction.
"Nah, I'd rather not spend my night with a raging bitch and her spineless groupies," he retorted before grabbing my hand and pulling us away. I almost couldn't look away at the shock on their faces, I stuck my middle finger up at them and we both erupted into a fit of laughter.
"Thanks mum," Seb and I said in unison as his mum served us our dinner. I'd accidentally called her that once a couple years back, I tried to apologise but she just gripped me in a bear hug and told her that I could call her that if I felt comfortable. She was more than a mum than mine was, I hadn't seen mine in years.
Seb and I caught up as we ate, it was more him telling me everything he had been up to, I didn't really have much to fill him in on. My life had become so mundane I didn't want to tell him that my life basically revolved around school and watching F1 on the weekends.
After dinner we were allowed to set up the tv cart in Seb's room and we used some brooms and poles we found around the house to create a canopy of sorts with a sheet over the bed. Seb let me choose the film so I picked The Addams Family.
"You're not a loser by the way," I glanced away from the tv, I couldn't tell if Seb was being genuine or just pitied me. I shrugged my shoulders and brought my attention back to the film. "I mean it (Y/N), she's just saying it because she's jealous." I rolled my eyes and let out an involuntary laugh.
"Jealous of what? My broken home? The fact that I have one friend and I only see him once every few months?"
"She's jealous because you're ten times prettier than her and looks are all that matters to her."
"Don't be stupid, I'm not-"
"Yes you are. Of course you are, you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen! You're practically a princess!"
"You're just saying that cause you're my friend."
"I'm telling you cause I mean it, and others think it too. I overheard some guys talking about you while I was waiting for you to come out of class." I could feel my cheeks starting to heat up. He thinks I'm pretty? I didn't really know what to say so I just shrugged my shoulders again. Seb chuckled and took my hand in his. "You're too modest, if you actually looked at yourself in the mirror for once, you'd see it too."
2002
Sebastian Vettel is online
Seb: Hey princess! How was last day of school?
Me: Another year down, one more and I can be done with school forever!
Seb: I thought you were going to college?
Me: I don't think I can, dad's working so hard he'll end up dying of exhaustion sooner or later. I'm gonna get a job so I can help.
Seb: I'm sure mum and dad would be happy to give you guys some money if it means you can stay in school
Me: That's kind but there's no way I'm taking money from you guys, you need it more if you wanna be an F1 driver.
Seb: I'm sure we could do both
Me: Honestly it's fine, I can't wait to get away from school. How's you anyway?
Seb: I'm not giving in about it but it's a discussion for another time. Guess who went on their first date today!
Seb: Hey, you still there?
Me: How was it?
Seb: It was good, went to the cinema and to this place called Nando's. You'd love it, they do the best chicken wings there.
Seb: Oh I also got my first kiss!
Me: That's great. Dad needs my help, talk soon.
(Y/N) is offline
2003
(Y/N) is online
Seb: How was prom? You're back earlier than I would have thought?
Me: It was okay. How's everything with you?
Seb: Molly and I broke up but I think it was for the best. Why was it just okay? What happened to you and Michael having your fairy tale night?
Me: Not much of a fairy tale when all he wanted was to try and sleep with me.
Seb: What a dick. I'm sorry.
Me: Is what it is, if he wasn't such a demanding creep I might have.
Seb: Are you okay? Did he hurt you or try to force himself on you?!
Me: Kind of but a heel to the balls put a stop to it pretty quickly. I'm fine though, I should've seen it coming but he left with Mathilda so I'm sure he will have a good night if he can get it up.
Seb: I'm proud of you, my warrior princess. Are you sure you're okay though?
Me: I'm fine, I stole a bottle of dads whiskey, my own personal after party
Seb: Go grab the phone from the landing
Me: Why?
Seb: I may not be there but I'm not letting you party on your own.
2004
I stood with Sebastian's parents as he crossed the line, everybody was cheering and clapping, none as loud as me though. He had absolutely dominated the season and had won the Formula BMW Championship. I watched and cheered as he stepped onto the top of the podium and held his trophy high.
I helped his team start packing up while I waited for Sebastian to get back, we were going to a cool hilltop we found to have a couple of sneaky drinks to celebrate his season. After about hour or so I asked his mum where he was and she suggested I go have a look around for him.
I walked around for a little bit, weaving in and out of people until I spotted his messy blonde hair in the distance. I started to speed up so I could finally congratulate him but I came to a grinding halt when I saw the brunette pushed up against him, their lips pressed together and her hands tangled in his hair.
I bolted back the car, the sick feeling that I was oh so acquainted with returning to my stomach. A few tears escaped my eyes as I sat on the grass behind the car. I wiped them away with my sleeve and took a deep breath, not really wanting to have a breakdown over a boy in the middle of a car park. Although it wasn't the first time I'd had a breakdown about this boy, and I unfortunately knew it wouldn't be last.
"(Y/N)?" I took another deep breath and put on my best smile as I stood up and brushed myself off, forcing the lump in my throat down.
"Congratulations Schnell." He smiled and pulled me into a hug. I gave him a pat on the back before pulling away and standing back a couple steps.
"So what next for you?" I asked crossing my arms across my chest.
"Formula Three and try to impress people to move up."
"You don't need to try, you're naturally amazing, soon enough big people will start to take notice." He chuckled and shook his head, his bright blue eyes lighting up.
"Sebastian?" We turned around to see the brunette girl standing there, twirling her stupid curly hair around her stupid finger.
"Shit yeah, we've got to go. Julie and I were going to go celebrate," The giddy grin on his face made the feeling in my stomach worse, I thought I was going to throw up any moment. "but mum and dad will take you home, okay?" I nodded, knowing if I opened my mouth again I wouldn't be able to hold back the tears, or worse. He waved to me as they walked away, Julie glancing back at me with a smug grin. As soon as they were out of sight I turned around and leant against the car as I began to sob.
"Is he ready yet? I thought you two were going to that hill?" his mother called out as she walked over to the car. I turned to her, wiping my tears around quickly, she immediately wrapped her arms around me and held me close as I began to cry again.
"Boys are idiots. He's thinking with the wrong muscle and he will realise soon enough."
------------------------------------
To: (Y/N)@gmail.com From: [email protected]
Hey princess, you wanna hang out today? You've been silent recently... Thought we could go to that hilltop and have those sneaky drinks? I haven't seen you since the race and I have to leave again soon.
Your Seb
To: (Y/N)@gmail.com From: [email protected]
(Y/N)? You all good? No one is answering the phone and you haven't been online in days. Please talk to me.
Your Seb
To: [email protected] From: (Y/N)@gmail.com
I'm fine. Can't hang out. Why don't you take Julie?
(Y/N)
2005
I tried calling Seb's phone multiple times, my chest feeling tighter every time it went to voicemail. I sighed deciding to leave a message, trying my best not to cry.
"H-Hey Seb," my voice immediately cracking. Great. "I- um, Mum's downstairs in the living room, turned up outta nowhere. Demanding I spend time with her, be a part of her life and get to know her boyfriend Konrad." Tears now streaming down my cheeks, feeling like I was seven again. "I just don't know... fuck, I'm sorry. Hope you're okay." I hung up immediately and threw my phone onto my desk. He could be in any country. Why call him? So stupid.
Dad's voiced echoed though the house as he shouted at mum, it was almost as if the walls were shaking. I put Seb's cd on and turned it up loud, sitting on my bed with Sir Floppy in my arms, trying to stop the walls from collapsing around me. Every breath I took stung, getting stuck in my chest. At some point I made it onto my side, each breath hurting more and more. I don't know how long I laid there, it was if I was paralysed, in my own painful hell.
I could feel someone gripping my shoulder, gently shaking me. The music got quieter and the top half of my body was lifted and rested against someone's chest.
"Just breathe princess, I've got you. In and out okay, just copy me." The sound of his voice immediately brought the smallest bit of warmth to my body, it didn't feel real. I thought I was so far gone I was imagining things to try and soothe myself. I tried to focus on the breathing, in and out. In and out.
"There you go, you're doing so well."
I took a while but I finally felt like I could function, I slowly sat up and turned around to see him sitting there. Real.
"How are you here?" My voice barely audible.
"I'd just gotten back, I was in the taxi and didn't hear my phone, I heard you voicemail and came straight here."
"I'm sorry, I should've never-"
"What called me? Why not? It's what I'm here for, okay? I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner." He pulled me closed and we sat next to each other, our backs against my headboard. "Want me to stay the night? We can make a bed fort and watch Matilda?"
2006
To: (Y/N)@gmail.com From: [email protected]
I hope you're okay. Has your internet and phone been shut off again? I've told you I can help you out with it, I really don't mind. Mum said you've been round there lots, she never stops talking about you.
Did you get to watch second practice? I set the fastest time! ...and I may have gotten a fine for speeding in the pit lane. I set a record for it though! Quickest penalty into an F1 career, pretty impressive if you ask me ;)
I hope you can come out and see a race soon, you'd love it! I really miss you, I don't actually remember the last time I saw you. When I get back I promise we will go do something together, go karting or camping. Or both!
Can't wait to hear from you.
From your Sebastian
P.S If you see Julie tell her to write me, she broke her phone last week
To: [email protected] From: (Y/N)@gmail.com
Dear dickface
No my internet and phone are just fine. I’m too busy working my arse off to pay my rent and bills and I don’t want your fucking pity money.
Glad at least one of us is thriving though. Soon enough you’ll be so famous you’ll forget I ever existed and you and Julie can go run off into the sunset. And we both know you’ll bail out of our plans as soon as Julie gives you all her attention again.
Fuck you. Fuck Julie. Fuck off!
From ‘your’ (Y/N)
Dear Troublemaker
No my internet and phone are just fine, some of us don't get the chance of earning above minimum wage. I did see! You're becoming the next Schumacher. You're lucky you're a decent driver or they'd never let you in an F1 car again.
Let me know when you're home and I'll see if I can get the time off work.
I'll tell Julie if I see her.
From (Y/N)
To: (Y/N)@gmail.com From: [email protected]
Decent? What happened to naturally amazing?
I'm back in three weeks so tell your boss now! Please let me help you out a little, just so you can stop working so much that you can answer my emails. I know you're gonna say no so we will talk about that when I'm back.
Thank you, she's been really quiet recently and I don't know why. Do you think I should be worried?
From your Seb
2007
Sebastian Vettel is online
Me: Guess who decided to send me a fucking wedding invitation
Seb: I don't know? Mathilda?
Me: God no, although that does sound like something she'd do just to uninvite me the the day before. My mum...
Seb: Seriously? Who the fuck would want to marry her? That Konrad guy?
Seb: Sorry that was rude
Me: Don't be, that woman's a raging cunt, and that's an understatement. She's marrying a guy called Darren... God knows what happened to Konrad. I think she only sent it to try and upset dad.
Seb: You gonna go?
Me: Fuck no
Me: Actually maybe I'll turn up in a wedding dress
Me: Maybe not, then I'll be as mental as her
Seb: I don't think that's possible
Seb: I miss you.
Seb: You there? Or did you internet cut off again?
Me: I miss you too, when are you next home?
Seb: Two weeks, movie night when I'm back?
Me: If we have time, I'm sure Julie will want to see you.
Seb: If I can get hold of her.
Me: Things still a bit off?
Seb: Speak of the angel, she's calling. I'll message you later.
Sebastian Vettel is offline.
2008
I sat on the floor of my kitchen, staring at the cracks in the paint on the wall as the dial tone droned through my ear.
"Hey!" Seb said cheerfully
"Hey, just wanted to say good luck! First race of the season, gonna break some more records?" He chuckled, I could practically hear his smile.
"I'm gonna try. You better be cheering me on, everyone knows you have the loudest cheer in Germany."
"I always do."
"I've got to go, Julie and I are getting breakfast quick before we have to go to the track. I call you later though." I sighed and said a quick goodbye before hanging up, wanting to throw my phone across the room but I knew I couldn't afford to replace it.
--------------------------------------------
To: [email protected] From: (Y/N)@gmail.com
Dear Sebastian
Congratulations Schnell! Another record, youngest pole sitter and race winner. You're unstoppable.
Sorry I couldn't see you when you came back to visit. Dad's really sick at the moment and it's not looking good. I tried calling mum but she doesn't care. I wish I'd seen you, I was just scared he would go if I left him. We were cheering you on though. Seeing you win really cheered him up.
Good luck next weekend Baby Schumi ;)
From your (Y/N)
P.S Your mum says to call her more! And if you get the chance call me too.
Sebastian's POV
He's gone.
I reread the text ten times before my brain could even begin to process everything. I pressed the small green button and listened to the dial tone, beginning to doubt she was going to pick up.
"Hi." Her voice was a broken whisper.
"I'm so sorry princess. Are you okay?" I rolled my eyes knowing that was the dumbest question I could've asked.
"I don't know. I'm all on my own now."
"You have me. Is there anything I can do?"
"Keep breaking records." I let out a small chuckle and a watery chuckle escaped her throat.
"After the last race next weekend I will come straight back and help you with everything. I'll get Julie to drop by a care package for you to get by until then."
"You don't have to do that I'm okay. But thank you Seb... for calling."
"I'm always here for you."
2010
Your POV
A loud knock at my door woke me up with a jump. I looked over at my clock to see it was just gone six. I grabbed the Red Bull hoodie Seb sent me and threw it over my head and I plodded over to the door, opening it to be greeted with sad, broken, blue eyes.
"Seb? What's-" He grabbed my arm and pulled me into a tight hug. We stood there for a moment before I brought him inside, closed the door and lead him into the living room. I sat on the sofa and he laid down, resting his head in my lap. I ran my fingers through his knotty hair, gently untangling it.
"Julie and I broke up. She's been seeing this other guy for the past year, I'm not around enough so it was easy for her." I looked down at him, my brain creating a million different thoughts. Deep down there was a part of me that was happy, and I knew how wrong that was.
"I'm sorry Seb, she didn't deserve you. You deserve the someone who is always there, supports you, cheers you on while you dominate the track. You deserve the world and you'll be okay. It just takes time that's all." Sebastian looked up at me and give me his best attempt at a smile.
"Come with me to the next race, Please."
"Of course."
2011
It was nice having Sebastian around for the summer break. The first week he spent at home seeing his parents, I was there over there often but that wasn't unusual, it had always been my second home.
Sebastian insisted we went away for a week and we ended up going to Bali. It was absolutely beautiful and I'd never been somewhere so peaceful. For once I felt relaxed and happy.
We had spent the day swimming in the ocean and lounging on the beach. I laid on my towel soaking in sunrays as Seb climbed out of the ocean after cooling off as best he could.
"Do you remember when we first went karting?" he asked lying down next to me, brushing the sand off his feet.
"Of course, you could barely keep me behind you." He rolled his eyes and laughed.
"Sure, if you say so..."
"Why do you ask?" He looked over at me, his beautiful blue eyes locking with mine and his fingers slipping between mine.
"You've always been there for me, supported me and my dream more than anyone else. You've supported every decision I've made, even the stupid ones. I should've realised what has been right in front of me this whole time and I'm sorry it took me this long."
"Seb-" He took my cheeks in his hands and pressed his lips to mine, my hands resting on my cheek and in his hair. As we pulled apart he rested his forehead against mine. His smile so big you'd have thought he'd just won another world championship.
"Me and you, yeah?" I smiled and kissed him again.
"Me and you."
2012
"You should just move in." I turned around from the stove and stared at him. "What? You should," he said with the same dopey grin he's worn since a child.
"You want me to move in?"
"Well why not? There's no sense in this place being empty when I'm away and you're not with me, plus it means you can stop paying rent to your dick of a landlord." He moved closer and gently pulled my arm, bringing me into his arms. "Move in with me princess," he whispered in my ear before pressing a kiss to my neck.
"Okay," I whispered back, pressing my lips against his. I could feel him smiling against my lips. He lifted me up, my legs wrapping around his waist. He began to carry me out the kitchen and I gripped onto the doorframe.
"Seb dinner-" His lips against mine cut me off and I let go of the doorframe.
"I'll order a takeaway."
2013
I walked into the kitchen and turned the kettle on while Seb set out suitcases down. Brazil had been filled with excitement and chaos but now we were just exhausted and I was excited to get Sebastian to myself for a little while now that the season was over.
I brought in our mugs of tea into the living room, Sebastian slumped on the sofa, flashing me his mischievous smile. I placed the mugs down and he pulled me into his arms.
"How did I get so lucky?" he asked pressing kisses to my neck. I smiled and pried him away from my neck and kissed his lips.
"If you're lucky, I won the lottery." He chuckled and took my hands in his. "I've got a kind, thoughtful, funny, extremely talented boyfriend," A small blush began to appear across his face. Fuck he looks so hot. Stay on track. "Who is going to be an amazing father."
His face dropped in shock and his hands instinctively went to my stomach. I smiled and nodded, his face immediately beaming with joy and began peppering my face with kisses.
"What do you think it'll be? Actually it doesn't matter. Do you think they'll want to kart? What colour should the nursery be?" I chuckled as he kept excitably babbling any question that came to mind.
2017
I rolled over, the usual warmth absent from the bed. I glanced over at the baby monitor to see the crib was empty. I climbed out of the sheets and put on my dressing down and slippers. As I walked downstairs the sound of giggles and faint pangs grew louder. I leant against the doorframe of the living room to and watched as Seb held our baby girl while trying to catch the twins running around with pans on their heads and waving wooden spoons at each other. I chuckled and Seb turned his head and his dopey smile.
"Good morning my princess," He walked over to me and wrapped an arm around me. I pressed a kiss to his lips before pressing one to our daughters head.
"You're in a chirpy mood this morning." He smiled and pressed another kiss to my lips.
"So I was thinking, have some pancakes, get showered and dressed and then... go to the beach?" The twins began hitting each others pans with their wooden spoons while chanting 'beach'.
"It sounds like that's the plan."
Once we chose our spot on the beach, the twins began to build an army of sandcastle's around us while the three of us sat under the beach umbrella, keeping the little one out of the sun.
"You know sometimes I wish we got more moments like this. I feel like I'm missing out on so much." I looked over at him, he was looking down at our daughter while she grabbed onto his finger.
"Once she gets a bit older we can all come with you a bit more often. But you know I'm with you whatever you want to do." I entwined my fingers with his and pressed a kiss to the top of his hand.
"I love you so much, I really don't deserve you."
"You deserve the world."
2020
The door slammed shut and a bundle of feet stampeded down the stairs. I popped my head out of the kitchen to see an exhausted Seb sat on the floor with the kids squeezing him with hugs and our puppy tried to lick his face.
"Why don't you guys go get your pj's on and we will be up in a minute, okay?" A chorus of complaints erupt, causing the dog to howl along.
"Listen to your mother," Sebastian said sternly, standing up. The room went silent and they plodded up the stairs. Seb pulled me into his chest and held me tight. I wrapped my arms around his waist and we stood like that for a couple of minutes, enjoying each others embrace.
"I got fed up and I snapped," he mumbled into my hair.
"People don't blame you, they're on your side. Why should you stay quiet when they're not. They're talking and treating you like a piece of shit. You aren't staying there next year so fuck them. Don't doubt yourself my love," I pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. "You deserve the world Sebastian, I tell you that all the time. You've finally started realising it for yourself."
I pressed another kiss to his lips before leading his upstairs to the children's rooms. We read them all a story and tucked them in before they begged for one more story.
We curled up on the sofa with a bottle of wine and stuck a movie on. Seb rested one arm around my waist, his fingers tracing circles on my hip.
"I'm so glad I have you," I turned my head and smiled giving him a kiss. "Y'know I had a huge crush on you when we were kids. I used to get so excited when your letters would arrive or when one of us would visit."
"Are you serious? Why didn't you say anything?"
"Why didn't you?" he asked raising his eyebrows causing my cheeks to heat up. He chuckled and pulled me into his lap. "I was always away racing and everyone would always tell me that you were the prettiest girl in school and they were right. Every time I came back you got more beautiful. You wouldn't have wanted to date someone that was barely around when you could've had any guy you want and he could be there whenever you needed."
"Your mum was right, you are a complete idiot." His smile morphed into true confusion. "You were all I wanted. You have been ever since I was six! You were the kindest, funniest guy and you were always there for me, even when I would ignore your messages because I was jealous. You treated me like a princess and to be honest you ruined my expectations of men." I said giggling.
"Well I'm glad I got my head out of my arse." he chuckled and pressed his lips against mine.
"It took you long enough." He rolled his eyes and kissed me again.
"You know you said you always wanted four kids..." I raised my eyebrows and blushed at the dopey grin he flashed before picking me up and carrying me upstairs.
We didn't what the future held at all but we had each other and we knew we'd be okay.
Buy me a coffee if you'd like :)
#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 one shot#formula 1 one shot#sebastian vettel x reader#sebastian vettel one shot#sebastian vettel imagine#sebastian vettel fanfic#sebastian vettel#formula 1 x reader#formula one imagine#formula one fanfic#angst#fluff
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honestly is there a single competent teacher at Hogwarts? Any teacher I can think of with more than 10 lines of dialogue is a pedagogical disaster. Very shippable disasters though, for which I am grateful because your page has made me giggle all week.
maybe Sprout.
honestly, anon? no.
that school is a basket case and the older i get the more my sympathy for cornelius fudge increases. imagine getting the call where dumbledore says "heyyyyy... so, i hired what i thought was an ex-auror who was retired from the service because of serious ptsd, gave him no teacher training, let him perform illegal curses on children for fun, and then it turns out he was an escaped convict trying to resurrect the dark lord all along. lmao."
i'd have devoted myself to trying to discredit him too.
and so, for fun and profit, i think it's only fair for us to establish an official competency ranking of the teaching staff at hogwarts during the period 1991-1998... points on for having a basic grasp of the material, points off for anyone who nearly dies in your class.
1. wilhelmina grubbly-plank, care of magical creatures
genuinely, professor grubbly-plank is the only person we meet in all seven books who seems to be an uncomplicatedly good teacher. she's got a series of well-defined lesson plans which feature a mixture of guided and independent study and which work in a tangible way towards exams, she has clear authority in the classroom but is never unreasonable or cruel, she's demonstrably able to lead a practical class which involves wild animals which might behave dangerously or unpredictably without there ever being any concerns about student safety, she takes an active pastoral role [such as when she helps heal hedwig's injured wing, reassuring harry enormously], she's collegial [she shares her lessons plans with hagrid in goblet of fire, and she refuses to criticise his teaching to umbridge], and she's admired by all of her pupils except harry [who is nonetheless begrudgingly forced to admit that she's incredibly good at her job].
plus, her aesthetic is iconic.
=2. filius flitwick, charms; pomona sprout, herbology
in joint second place, we have these two.
both sprout and flitwick spend canon seeming to be pretty good at their jobs - they have interesting lesson plans which seem to balance theoretical and practical work well and which prepare their pupils properly for exams, their pupils like them and enjoy their lessons, they're both excellent at the pastoral side of their jobs [sprout's gentle encouragement of neville is really lovely], and they're adored by their colleagues.
they lose marks for lax classroom discipline. harry, ron, and hermione are constantly yapping away in both charms and herbology - with harry and ron frequently failing to understand what they're supposed to be learning because they were too busy have a chat.
=4. remus lupin, defence against the dark arts; septima vector, arithmancy
two teachers here who earn their placement on the list by having one pupil who considers them life-alteringly inspiring.
for lupin, this is dean thomas - whose constant state of readiness to throw hands to defend his honour is one of his greatest character traits. for vector, it's hermione.
obviously, they're both well-qualified, well-prepared, engaging, and [at least in lupin's case, but i can't see why it wouldn't also be the case for vector] well-regarded by their colleagues.
they don't rank higher because lupin loses marks for endangering his students by not disclosing his knowledge that the presumed-to-be-a-death-eater sirius has a means of entering hogwarts without detection [i understand why he does this from a characterisation point of view, but it's inexcusable from a safeguarding one] and because vector teaches an elective subject which is implied to only attract bright, engaged pupils - and therefore has an easier time in the classroom than someone trying to get a student like crabbe through their exams.
5. minerva mcgonagall, transfiguration
in comes minnie mac at number five.
unsurprisingly, her solid curriculum, excellent classroom discipline, high-regard among her colleagues and pupils, support of student extracurricular activities, and investment in helping her pupils pursue the careers they want all give her points.
she loses marks, however, for the fact that she is so casually disdainful of pupils who aren't instinctively good at her subject - which suggests that she doesn't know how to adapt her material so it can be understood by every student she teaches. like dumbledore, she seems to have an identifiable favouritism for brilliant students - who she seems to permit to get away with much more than students she considers average or dull - which probably doesn't endear her to anyone who doesn't get that treatment.
on her pastoral approach, though, i don't think that it matters too much that she's not particularly nurturing - even though she's a head of house. she seems to be good at responding to genuine distress and managing genuine crises with empathy, and the "pull yourself together" vibes she takes in response to more trivial dramas is because she's a presbyterian scotswoman.
6. severus snape, potions & defence against the dark arts
the one on this list that i imagine will be controversial...
because snape is a dick in the classroom - not denying that - but he's also, in terms of his pupils' exam performance, clearly the most successful teacher in the entire school. he can fill his newt-level classes despite only admitting those with outstanding grades, and he expects every pupil he teaches to pass owl-level potions and seems not to be disappointed. hermione reveals that he does teach the theory of potions and the discipline's wider application - harry and ron just don't listen - and that she thinks his lessons are interesting.
snape loses marks - obviously - for his general vibe, although i think he should be allowed some leeway for his dickhead behaviour since potions is clearly a subject in which not paying attention and not being able to follow instructions properly is dangerous [hence why i've been a trevor hater since day one].
i suppose he should also be allowed some leeway because it's a genre requirement for a school story to have a theatrically evil teacher. but he's not getting it - since he clearly enjoys the role so much.
7. horace slughorn, potions
marks on for encouraging independent thinking and for clearly being able to hold a classroom's attention. marks off for not learning the names of pupils he's indifferent to, getting his favourite pupils drunk, and for having no follow-up questions to "hello, sir. i'd like to commit some murders."
8. charity burbage, muggle studies
entirely because i think it's genuinely admirable - and, indeed, far more admirable than the fact that the order of the phoenix all happily keep working for the state following voldemort's takeover - that she publishes an article in the daily prophet, to which her real name is attached, explicitly refuting blood-supremacist rhetoric when she must know that a blood-supremacist government is about to come into power.
marks off because the fact that even wizards who've taken her class appear to know fuck all about muggle society means that she can't be particularly good at her job.
9. firenze, divination
marks on because his pupils love him, marks off because that's a tremendously low bar to clear given... trelawney.
him telling his classes that divination is a bullshit, made-up subject is iconic, though.
10. "alastor moody", defence against the dark arts
i think it's genuinely impressive that he manages to go from being imprisoned under the imperius curse for a decade straight into planning a full year's lesson plans [which his pupils love] and doesn't have a breakdown.
marks off because of literally everything else.
=11. all the miscellaneous teachers: aurora sinistra, astronomy; silvanus kettleburn, care of magical creatures; bathsheba babbling, ancient runes
they seem fine.
14. rolanda hooch, flying
full respect to her for managing to wangle a full-time salary out of an annual workload made up of teaching one lesson [badly] and refereeing six quidditch matches.
15. quirinus quirrell, defence against the dark arts
all the proof those of us who hate professor riddle stories need that voldemort would have been a dogshit teacher, if he can't even get his meat-puppet to inspire a room full of eager eleven-year-olds in a subject which is about the coolest ways possible to kill people.
=16. cuthbert binns, history of magic; sybill trelawney, divination
they're terrible, obviously, but the fact that they remain in their jobs despite being so clearly incompetent is entirely dumbledore's fault. are you not giving the staff performance reviews, albus? come on now.
18. dolores umbridge, defence against the dark arts
umbridge deserves to be in prison, but she did at least bother to plan out a curriculum.
=19. gilderoy lockhart, defence against the dark arts; rubeus hagrid, care of magical creatures
both victims of dumbledore's "lol this will be so funny" era of hiring practices. both deservedly regarded as completely fucking incompetent by all but one defiant brownnoser. both possessing jazzy taste in textbooks.
21. amycus carrow, defence against the dark arts
he beats his sister simply because his pupils do appear to know how to perform the unforgivable curses correctly.
22. alecto carrow, muggle studies
literally nothing positive can be said.
#asks answered#where is ofsted?#albus... get the performance improvement plans out babe...#educational decrees they could never make me hate you#safeguarding tonite? safeguarding tonite queen?
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Reading Wolverine comics after watching the movies has me absolutely falling in love with the "man or animal" motif that follows Logan literally everywhere.
// Marvel Comics Presents (1991): Issue #75
My favourite read so far is the short 4 issue series, Wolverine (1982), which the 2013 Wolverine movie is based on. Bascially it being about Logan trying not to lose Mariko to an arranged marriage and the cultural powers at play to which he isn't privy to. Furthermore, it absolutely dense with character-centered narrative with Logan's inner conflict surrounding the balancing act he must preform between embracing his animalistic side and his desire to be more than the killer he's always been, whilst he struggles with fitting into japanese society and the japanese underground. I could not reccomend it enough. Issue #3 is such a standout for me, all the excerpts provided are from it also.
One of the scenes i think highlight what im getting at with the motif is how Logan actively interprets an event that took place previously in the story. Earlier, he had fought Shingen (Mariko's father) to defend his own honor and for him to overrule Mariko's marriage so they may be together again, ultimately he not only loses but he humiliates and dishonors himself in the process. In this scene, he has a dream about the battle in a sequence that showcases what that humiliation actually meant for him in relation to his internal fight to let go of the animal he thinks himself of.
Despite how undisputable his physical strength is, the defeat he endures against Shingen crushes him and defines his motivations for the entire series. The words Mariko says in his dream, bascially defining him as a fraud and unworthy of her love, and the panel that follows this one saying he is also unworthy of life, is pretty indicative of his fear that his primal instincts- what he defines himself as -negates his noble aspirations to be a better man, overshadowing his morality.
It's also interestingly delved into with how his relationship with Mariko and his following romance with Yukio is contrasted in how they have an effect on Wolverine's internal conflict: Mariko's influence makes him want to strive for self-improvement, to appease her, while Yukio is able to accept who he is
Mariko's influence makes him want to strive for self-improvement, to appease her, while Yukio is able to accept who he is and his nature. The growth and control vs embracing your supposed truth serves as a new perspective to view Logan from. Basically, it's a reflection of how Logan himself is struggling to not only balance both aspects of himself, but also his struggle to accept them in the first place.
Going back to the films, I think they do a good job of adapting this method of symbolizing his self-reflection. For instance, in the origins movie, one of the conflicts I love from it is how this exact concept is adapted to Kayla and Victor. Kayla, being the stand-in for Mariko, motivates Logan to move past his animalistic side, literally telling him "you're not an animal, logan", whilst Victor is the force that wants him to ditch assimilation and embrace his mutations completely, though in this case it's much more violent and psychotic than Yukio's approach in the comic. The film version is a whole new exploration of his characterin its own right since it's more like these two opposing ideas are telling him what he should be, and the consequent struggle between what he should choose.
Though, and this is just my interpretation, what I appreciate most of this theme is that it managed to be so confusing for Logan that it circles back to being ironic. Because yes, he failed Mariko and he failed Yukio, he failed to assimilate to societal standards and he failed to be true to himself- whatever that really is -but I think one of his biggest failings is concluding for so long that he is an animal and therefore not a man, when in reality he has shown nothing but human desires, ambitions to change, to choose. He is an animal, it's just that that animal is a man.
#wolverine#james howlett#logan howlett#wolverine comics#x men#x men 2000#x men origins: wolverine#hugh jackman#deadpool and wolverine#deadpool#deadpool 3#ryan reynolds#marvel#marvel comics#character analysis#poolverine#deadclaws
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