#oh fuck i have to tag this appropriately uh-
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Here is a collection of my thoughts about We Are ships sex lives because I, an asexual, have them for some reason and need to get them out- (What is We Are doing to me?)
TANFANG
According to novel fans, Tan is the top and Fang is a power bottom; however, the show implies Fang is the top. This means the correct answer is they are switches, but we knew that.
Tan loves to get romantic with Fang. Rose petals, scented candles, whether in the bathroom or in the bedroom Tan commits to the most tender of sex. It is canon Tan does the come hither motion, and as much as Fang puts up a fight he adores it.
Though some days Fang gets into his head about the balance of their relationship and encourages Tan to take. Sometimes, Fang just wants Tan to use his dick like a joystick, and Tan is more than happy to jump into his lap.
Their relationship started from mutual punching, and their canon (implied) sex scene has them wrestling. Therefore, they are the roughest couple in bed. They absolutely have a mutual marking kink shown through hickies and flat-out bites. Some flavor of BDSM, though they (or any of the couples) aren't hardcore with it.
Aftercare game is strong with these two, and they preen at being the one to take care of the other with their mutual taking care of each other kink.
QTOEY
They have sex but in a very (demi)aro(demi)ace way if that makes sense? They have a code in their phone for when one of them is horny and it is "Draw me like one of your Thai boys" (Toey came up with it, Q couldn't think of anything better).
When they do have sex in their own private enclosure and not in Peem's childhood home, it is very artistic. Q has painted Toey's nudes (the only nudes of his boyfriend he has), and he hung it up in their bedroom (fortunately, they aren't the hangout house so they don't have to mad dash to hide it). Q has painted Toey's skin as foreplay, change my mind (you can't).
Before the nudes were painted, Q joked Toey should get dolled up for it and something inside Toey pinged. Since then, Q will teasingly call Teoy "doll" alongside his usual "muse". Their closet has a section dedicated to lingerie (honestly, most of the time they don't even fuck in them. Q just likes drawing and painting tasteful nudes of his boyfriend, and Toey likes being Q's model).
Regardless, the actual action is full of reverence and body worship and Q insists on fucking Toey in natural light because it makes him look more gorgeous than he already is. They have the weakest aftercare game, but considering the couples they're up against it isn't a surprise. Most points are deducted for Q vowing to never paint Toey again as he scrubs his boyfriend's skin. Toey giggles knowing he'll convince Q otherwise.
PHUMPEEM
It doesn't matter what the novel/series says, Phum is a bottom. He wants to be in Peem's lap and monopolize all his attention. Riding is his favorite sex position. The man wants to be railed by his hot artist boyfriend, and can we blame him? (Peem really likes it when Phum is on his back because Phum's hair is a national treasure.)
They do have some pet play going on. It isn't super hardcore, but it is there. After all, Peem canonically calls Phum "puppy" and I think Phum should get to call Peem "kitten" (turnabout is fair play).
There is a reason I placed PhumPeem's section after QToey, and it is because Phum was the person Toey asked to go lingerie shopping with him (lets be real, Toey is not going on his own the first time and Phum is the least embarrassing option). Phum comes home with a few things of his own, and Peem is relentless with the pillow princess teasing as he rails his boyfriend.
PhumPeem are tied with TanFang on best aftercare game, because both couples have a mutual taking care of each other kink.
Oh, right, they have sex on the beach at some point. Also, they are known for fucking in any body of water they can (which wasn't what Peem meant by the water being his safe place, but he's not arguing).
CHAINPUN
They are the kinkiest couple here.
They may not be the most consistently kinky, but they are the most varied. All Pun has to do is bat his eyelashes at Chain, and Chain will indulge Pun in his latest fantasy. Out of all of them, they are the most likely to commit to actual roleplay scenarios. The most often one, of course, being a doctor one (though Chain will make sure to remind Pun he isn't that type of doctor). It doesn't matter though because Pun finds him immensely sexy in the coat.
Although they do get up to roleplay, sometimes Chain wants to spend his time adoring Pun. The body worship is off the charts with these two, and Chain makes sure to love and worship every inch of Pun. Pun loves it, and preens under the adoration though Chain can be torturous in his foreplay.
Soft top Chain, but we all know that.
Honestly, there isn't a couple in We Are that doesn't go all out for aftercare. ChainPuns includes cuddling and snuggling under the covers, and Chain ensures Pun is fed.
#tanfang#phumpeem#qtoey#chainpun#we are series#we are the series#oh fuck i have to tag this appropriately uh-#suggestive#i genuinely dont know how to tag this so advice is welcomed#lowkey scared to post this it is very atypical from my usual work
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NIGHT-SHIFT (p.sh)
Sunghoon, a keen and professional man between the hours of 8 AM to 5 PM. ServiceKing, a faceless and proud man between the hours of 9 PM to 12 AM. Sunghoon’s secret night-life has nothing to do with the faces he sees day after day...until it does. or the one where you pay for a one on one call with a faceless cam guy you’ve been watching for a little while, and the next day your boss is avoiding you like the plague.
minors dni
PAIRING ― boss / cam boy!sunghoon x afab reader
WORDCOUNT― 4.5k
WARNINGS― dub-con since reader doesn’t know it’s him.
CONTENT― office setting, sunghoon is a service top/soft-dom/whatever his clients need lol
NOTE ― this was supposed to be a drabble, but i just....it needed a little more plot sorry. it's not very good, like fr this is not up to par with what I wanted... but i wrote it so im gonna post it.
nsfw tags under cut
nsfw tags― dubious consent, cam sex/virtual sex, dirty talk, masturbation instructions, umm…finger fucking, jerking off, fantasies, role-play type stuff
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
What are the chances? Honestly, what are the fucking chances?
Sunghoon sits up quickly from his relaxed position upon hearing a voice far too familiar on the other end of this call. He’s lucky he doesn’t have his camera on just yet, you’d have seen the embarrassing reaction to…well…hearing you of all people.
He knows the world can be small sometimes, but this is too small for comfort as he hears your muttered voice through the microphone again.
“So, what am I supposed to do?” You say.
“Ah, uh–” Sunghoon pauses. There’s no way it’s actually you. Can you not recognize his voice too? “What type of call did you request again?”
“Full service.” You remind him.
Oh. You’re into this kind of thing? That pretty, well-mannered employee of his? The one who sips coffee quietly at her desk while actually responding to her emails? The one who never shows up to co-ed parties? The one who always dresses appropriately and addresses him in a timid way?
You…just paid a cam-boy to get you off in full? Not just any cam-boy either, you paid him?
God, his cheeks are so heated at the arousing thought. Never once has he ever imagined you in any scenario that doesn’t involve excel spreadsheets and finances. Arguably, you’ve probably never thought of him all spread out fucking his fist either but…you’ve blatantly seen him do it already.
He wonders how long you’ve been seeing this part of him, how long you’ve been getting yourself off all alone while he puts on a show for hundreds, and sometimes, thousands of people.
As detrimental as this is, it’s his job to do this. You paid him to do it, just like how he pays you to do your job. He can’t be letting this hold him back. No, in fact, he needs to get this hour long session over with as quickly as fucking possible.
“Right,” Sunghoon lends a chuckle, nervous sounding on his end but to you it just sounds cheeky. “Can I get your name, babe?”
You’re quiet at first, never having done this before and absolutely not wanting this random horny guy to know who you are. Honestly, you already requested that only he turns his camera on during this call as well. As if you’d give out your real name. You give him a name that rhymes with your own instead, and there’s another chuckle after.
He knows you’re lying. Out of all the employees that are under him, you’re the one he has to correspond with the most. After all, you’ve been up for the promotion to being his assistant for the past three months. He knows that isn’t your name.
Smart girl, just like he knew you were.
“Is that so?” He tilts his head at his blank screen in amusement, watching the microphones light up with each breath. “Alright, and you’ll do everything I say, yes?”
You nod to no one, realizing he can’t see you and instead giving him a hum and gentle words of “of course.”
His image flashes across your screen just moments later. The same as his usual streams. Face out of frame, hand strong and willing, his cock out and on display– only half hard.
“Listen to me very carefully,” Sunghoon calls out now, as if to show you that it’s time to begin, your almost-name falling from his lips shortly after. “Don’t hold your breath, you paid good money for this, and I want to hear you.”
Oh man, this is embarrassing for you to be doing this. But truly, anything at this point is better than another night all alone.
And he does hear you. Relishing in that voice he hears day to day reciting memos and budgets, only this time, you’re calling out pleasurable reactions to how he tells you to fuck yourself.
He’s good at it too. You can’t help but listen to every word, touching and massaging when he instructs you to, stopping just short of orgasm for him to ask, “That feels good, doesn’t it? Wish you had me doing it for you, isn’t that right?”
Always using the fake name. Giving you full-service by the end of the call.
Safe to say, you’re feeling refreshed by the next morning as you ready yourself for work, wanting very much to book the infamous ServiceKing again.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Fuck, he can’t even look at you. Not after the way he got off last night.
Not after hearing you moan out the way you did while he simultaneously imagined you all spread out on his desk for him. Not after hearing the fucking wet between your legs as you frantically tried to cum when he told you to.
Not after you did cum for him.
“Mr. Park–” You chime through his door, not quite noticing the way he stiffens in his seat.
God, if you had called him that last night…
“Hm?” He composes himself by acting bored and uninterested in whatever papers you have held tightly against your chest. “What is it?”
“I got the statements back from our parent company, I think–”
“Great. Just set them down on my desk.” He cuts you off, patting his desk before hoping you get the fuck out of his office before he ends up breaking office rule number one.
What is office rule number one, you might ask? Never fuck a co-worker. What’s worse is that you’re not his fucking co worker. You’re his employee.
You raise a brow at his demeanor this morning. The usual not-so-up-tight Sunghoon appearing far too distracted today compared to usual. Most mornings, he’ll at least give you a smile and a “thank you.”
“Mr. Park, is there anything I can get for you?” You ask with concern in your voice.
Sunghoon pauses every thought in his head as he looks at you. Narrowing his eyes and wondering if maybe he’s just overreacting. Maybe he's mistaken and that girl from last night isn’t you at all. After all, there’s plenty of people with the same pitch in their voice. She didn’t even turn on her camera, and she gave him a different name anyway.
Maybe he just wishes it was you.
“No, I’m fine–” He says, mistakenly calling out the fake name rather than your actual name.
You miss the way his eyes widen for a split second before correcting himself to your real name.
“Ah, my apologies. Got a little tongue tied.”
You stand there in shock. No way in hell he just called you by the name you spoofed to a cam-boy last night. Coincidences can be so weird, and being called that hits you a little too close to home.
It feels awkward in the room now and both of you play it off as a genuine mistake. Though, to you, it has to be a genuine tongue-tied version of your name. Sunghoon couldn’t possibly know about that. Besides, he appears to be more tired than usual anyway, so…you choose to believe it’s a crazy coincidence.
You give him a nervous chuckle as you wave yourself off and out of the room with a small “It’s okay, you know where I am if you need anything.”
What he needs is to watch his fucking mouth. What he needs is to stop thinking about how you just reacted to being called that. What he needs is to pretend that none of this is happening and do his goddamn work.
And he tries. He really does. Unfortunately, his eyes go from blurs of numbers and words on spreadsheets to the window of his office. Just outside of it. You.
How is he supposed to focus after kind of, accidentally, practically fucking you? Sure, he never touched you but…it really was you. The way you reacted to that name was so telling, and he can’t help but actually check you out now.
You, with that body. You got off to him, with those legs of your spread out while staring into a screen. All alone, listening to his voice, moaning for him…and now you’re just sitting there in your business casual outfit like he’s not unintentionally getting hard.
So, he avoids you. At all fucking costs, he avoids you.
You get up from your desk? So does he, making sure that if you start coming his way, he’s walking out and in the opposite direction. You send him an email? Out of office, despite clearly sitting at his desk. You call his phone to ask a question? He forwards you to his current assistant.
And this happens for days. To the point you know that promotion is slipping from your fingers.
Naturally, you’re frustrated with the office-dynamic. After all, you’ve heard rumors of picking favorites. You thought you were one of them, but it appears that Sunghoon may just decide to try and beg his current assistant to stay with bribes of double pay.
You’re more frustrated as the days go by. Leaving work yet again with no good-byes from the boss who used to show appreciation for how hard you worked. He’s colder than usual, he’s stiffer than usual, he’s– a fucking asshole these days.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Ping!
Sunghoon stares at his secret email in disbelief.
NEW REQUEST FROM: [your email/username]
$500 PENDING.
FULL SERVICE.
Requester note: work has been hard lately, will you help me de-stress for a little while?
[ACCEPT REQUEST] [DECLINE REQUEST]
Sunghoon hovers over the decline button for a solid thirty seconds as he burns a hole through his screen. Work has been hard for you lately, huh? Has it now? Try being him.
He shifts his mouse to the accept button, wondering if he even needs that extra five hundred dollars. Those funds just to suffer more at work? Just to suddenly have the need randomly throughout his day to make you moan for him? Just to have the sounds of your pretty voice echoing in his head more and more the longer he ignores you?
His finger clicks, hitting the accept button as he lets out an exasperated sigh.
Why did he just do that?
Wait.
Maybe this will help him get through the work weeks. Fucking you through words alone in secret, never telling you who he is, always letting you use him even if it’s just through audio and visual stimulation.
After all, if you found out who ServiceKing is, you very well may quit. Hell, you might get him fired. Fuck.
This is dangerous.
Yet, he feels the excitement in his gut before it even hits his cock as the clock ticks. He gets to hear you again soon, you get to watch him cum again soon, he–oh, he’s so turned on right now just thinking about it.
And the time comes too slowly for his liking. He feels as if he’s been edged by the time the two of you enter the call and he’s immediately turning his camera on.
“Ah, look who it is,” Sunghoon starts, already positioning himself with a raging hard cock on the screen. “Had me wondering if you’d come back to me.”
You don’t know why your cheeks heat up, but the feeling in your gut is miles better than the frustration and anxiety that you felt throughout the day.
“I was wondering the same thing,” You speak into the mic meekly, hiding your face despite knowing he can’t see it. “I just need to get my mind off of stuff for a little while.”
“Oh yeah?” Sunghoon chuckles into the mic, his face perfectly hidden. “Wanna give me some context? Maybe I can use some of the information for–”
“God.” You immediately start, shutting the man up on the other side of the screen in an accidental frustration-dump. This is not what you paid him for, but you still appreciate the space to release your brain before, well, your cum. “My fucking boss.”
Sunghoon’s ears perk up, lazily stroking himself as you continue with a frantic voice.
“I swear he just flipped on me. I thought I was doing so good, I thought I was gonna get that new position, but now he’s just ignoring me and treating me like some temp or something.”
Sunghoon hums lowly, listening intently to the way you bring him into conversation to a man that…unfortunately, is that very same boss.
“Hmm, that’s interesting.” Sunghoon continues palming himself as he soothes you through your frustrations. “Your boss isn’t praising you.”
You pause, feeling a ping in your gut.
“If I were him, I’d praise you every day–” Sunghoon softens his voice. “Every night.”
“Oh…” You listen to his words, feeling your frustration melt out of you in an instant as you now focus on the way his cock twitches through the screen.
“Wouldn’t let you go a second without thinking of how good I am to you.” He continues, both hyping himself and degrading his day-time self. “If I were your boss–”
You interrupt his words with a very quiet groan, he fucking heard it.
“Mm, you like that?” He smiles to himself, gripping the base of his cock and thrusting up to show the full size to you. “The thought of your boss liking you a little too much?”
You hum. Not that you’ve ever thought about it too deeply, but now that he’s said it, praising you, putting down your actual boss, telling you what he’d do if he were him?
You guess, for tonight anyway, you’re into it.
“What’s his name, babe?” Sunghoon asks, wondering if you’ll actually out his name to a stranger.
“Park Sunghoon.” You expose him instantly, full name and all, even with a bit of bite in your voice.
Damn.
“Oh, yeah?” Sunghoon draws back, jerking his hand up once. “I’d fuck you better than Park Sunghoon.”
You smile at the thought, imagining yourself with more power than Sunghoon has. Like you’re his boss, you’re the one dangling a promotion just out of reach before giving it to someone else.
“See this?” The man on the screen grunts out to you, fucking tight thrusts into his fist. “Watch me, baby, get a good look.”
And you do watch. Intensely, you stare at his big cock, the head of it darkened and leaking with each pass of his hand. You’re not even touching yourself at this point, but it’s like you can feel the force of it.
“Now, I need you to open those legs for me.” He instructs you.
You do as he says much like before, letting your legs fall open but not yet letting yourself touch. You still sigh at the movement, your panties alone shifting were enough to make you want to hump your hips up.
“Now, turn on your camera.”
Silence. Your ears ring momentarily at the words as you immediately close your legs.
“What?” You ask in a higher-pitched tone than usual. “I requested for no c-”
“No.” Sunghoon mutters, shifting his position to lean towards the microphone and whispering now. “You do as I say.”
He hears you huff at his words, but he hears the shifting around on your end.
“I want to see that pussy open for me.” He continues in that same low-rumbled voice. “I want to see what Park Sunghoon is missing out on.”
You don’t know what it is about this situation that turns your discomfort into pure, rushing arousal. Never in your life have you ever considered fucking yourself on camera, especially after paying someone else to do it for you, yet–
“Do I have to show you my face?” You ask quietly, already trying to find a lower-face-mask just to be safe in case you lose your composure and accidentally reveal yourself.
“No,” Sunghoon assures you through a deep breath. “I already told you what I want to see.”
More silence save for the shuffling he still hears on your end.
“Open your legs and turn it on.” He encourages you now, keeping his hand still on himself as he waits to see if you’ll actually do it.
And…
Oh fuck.
“There she is.” Sunghoon hums, trying to keep his composure at the way you give him access. Honestly, he didn’t think you would, but you do, and all he can do is lay himself back again, staring straight at the image of you.
Your face is out of frame much like he is but this is the first time he’s ever seen you with so little clothing on. No bra, thin tank top, no shorts or pants, just panties. It takes everything in him not to moan out at the image.
After all, it’s confirmed to be you.
Fuck, that’s you right there.
“Already so wet too?” Sunghoon groans now, focusing on that spot between your legs, probably so slippery and warm.
You’re very shy though, not moving much better yet speaking as this faceless man takes in your image. You feel awkward, but still turned on despite squeezing your legs together and hiding that spot from him.
“Oh, baby–” Sunghoon coos out in a way that makes it seem as though he was endeared by that. “That’s not going to work.”
You’re more focused on your embarrassment than you are on the way his cock leaks and pours pre-cum at the image he’s witnessing.
“How am I supposed to show you how much better I’d take care of you?” He continues, reverting back to the same role play from before. “I bet that boss of yours wouldn’t want to bury his tongue in you like I would.”
Your legs fall open at the words, and he can see the way you thrust up just slightly.
“That’s it, you need someone to touch you, don’t you?” He continues, watching you intensely. “Need someone to lick that pretty pussy?”
You nod, once again forgetting that he can’t see you do it before you finally speak.
“Please.”
His moan after hearing you seems far more intense than the first time you did this with him. In fact, he appears entirely focused on you. Role playing in some way but somehow acting more real than last time too.
“You deserve some love for all that hard work.” He says to you, encouraging you to keep talking for him. “Play with yourself, go on. You need it.”
You follow his instructions on instinct, as if your body truly does need the release.
“Feel it– not too hard, just graze over your panties.”
Ah, still you listen, holding your breath at each feather-light touch you give to yourself per his request.
And he watches. Hyper-focused on the way that darkened spot on your panties grows bigger and bigger. So wet for him doing exactly what he wishes he could do for you come tomorrow morning.
“Your other hand babe, slowly, lift your shirt and–”
He doesn’t even have to keep instructing you. You do exactly as he wanted, lifting your shirt gently before playing with your own nipples, still lightly grazing your fingers over your swollen clit that’s restricted by your panties.
You moan quietly at the feeling, wishing so much that it doesn’t have to be your hands doing this.
“That feels good, doesn’t it?” Sunghoon hums, now working his palm against his own length, gentle, barely grazing it. “Now, look at me.”
You draw your eyes forward, the image of him already arousing from before, but now? Why is he so much hotter now? As if the screen is nothing but a window into his bedroom.
“You see how hard I am right now?” You can hear the smile in his voice as you continue to work yourself up to near-sensitivity. “Never been this hard for anyone else.”
Oh, that’s bullshit. He does this as a job. He’s just sweet talking to you for sure.
“Been thinking about you since the first time you booked me.” He continues, keeping the touches light and making sure you don’t press on yourself too hard either. “Was hard all week for you.”
Okay, yeah, maybe you are a little too into praise. Lie or not, it’s exactly what you need to hear right now.
“You're gonna be just as good for me tonight too?” Sunghoon hums, tightening his grip. “You’re going to push your panties to the side and show me that you missed me too, right?”
Yes. The light touching has been nothing but torture at this point, wanting so badly to be told to do more. For yourself, for him.
You barely recognize how your embarrassment leaves your body when you stretch your panties to the side, letting him see how they stuck to you only to unfold in a glistening mess for him.
“Messy, messy, messy.” Sunghoon moans, struggling so hard by now not to fuck his fist straight to orgasm. But no, he can’t ruin this moment.
That’s your pussy, looking so wet and tight, so needy.
“Gently still, open up for me.” Sunghoon groans lowly, watching so closely the way you spread open your lips for him, the hole pulsing and dribbling so much slick.
Never in his life has he ever wanted to bury his tongue into someone this badly. Goddamn, he’s nearly obsessed with you at this moment. He loses composure.
“Fuck–” He seethes, feeling his cock twitch wildly against his hand. “I want you so bad.”
Those words feel more real to you than anything else. Virtual sex is one thing but to have a man blatantly moan those words to you as if he means them? As if he has never let it slip for any of his other scheduled calls?
“What’s the name of your boss again?” Sunghoon asks, pretending as if he forgot, just to hear you say it.
He notes the way your pussy clenches through his words too, as if he can see the confusion not through your expression, but through your arousal alone. Asking you that turned you off.
“What’s his name, baby?” Sunghoon presses, offering an excuse. “I wanna know who it is that gave me this tonight.”
Alluding to the fact that the only reason you’re paying him is because your boss made you feel like you need release in some way.
“Park-” You start, not wanting to deny his demands. “Sunghoon.”
“Ah, yeah.” Sunghoon holds his breath, closing his eyes briefly just to let that breathy voice sit in his mind before focusing back on you. “Two fingers babe, slide them in.”
God, you listen just as well as you do at work. He should have given you that promotion the day he saw your application. Even without seeing you do as you're told in this situation, he already knew you were going to be getting that interview next week.
He listens to the way your cunt swallows up your fingers, so wet and needy. Swollen around the two digits as you slide them in with a breathy sigh.
“Spread your fingers, open up.”
You do, presenting your opened core to him without any shame at this point. Allowing him to look, wanting him to look.
“Now, say–” Sunghoon swallows around a lump in his throat. “Thank you Sunghoon.”
Your pussy pulses around your fingers, recoiling again at the name.
“Say, Thank you Sunghoon, for all of this stress.”
He continues, trying to encourage, adding another lie of an excuse just to get you to break.
“Because, if it weren't for him, I wouldn’t be needing to take care of you like this, now would I?”
In your horny brain, it makes sense.
“Thank you, Sunghoon.” You moan, plunging your fingers into yourself without being told to do so, moaning out for the faceless man on the screen at your break in composure.
And, well, Sunghoon himself is on fire. After all, you’ve only ever referred to him as Mr.Park, and hearing you practically moan his name in such an intimate way? It does nothing to keep him from spiraling into an even more selfish mindset.
“Again.” He instructs you, watching the way your legs shake through saying his name.
“Thank you Sunghoon.” You continue, as if the words are natural despite feeling intense irritation for the man. “Thank you.”
And, well, that very name you’re moaning is now also moaning. That little fake name you gave to him falls from his lips after you say it each time, fucking into his fist and hoping you’re watching, nearly unable to ask you to stick another finger into yourself.
Not needing to ask at all, apparently, because you do it yourself. You even bump your clit up against your wrist too.
Shit.
He needs you.
“Thank him for what?” Sunghoon starts to ask, feeling an orgasm approach far too quickly.
“For making me come to you!” You answer him as if you’re frustrated, hips bouncing up against your hand just to dig your fingers in deeper.
“What else?” He asks now, forgetting what it is he should not be doing.
“Hmm?” You answer in a drawn-out moan.
“Thank him for what else?” He repeats first, only to follow up with his own answer. “For giving you a reason to cum.”
“Yes!” You groan, now grinding your hips up and against your palm without relaxing back against the bed. Intentionally chasing as your eyes remain on him, watching him pull and tug so roughly.
“So fucking pretty” Sunghoon praises as he snaps his hips in time with his moving palm, eyes so tuned into you that– “Fuck–” He moans your name. “So pretty.”
And he didn’t realize it. Half expecting you to moan back for him, he’s still moaning as he watches you halt what you’re doing and cover yourself entirely.
“What did you just call me?” You ask in an out of breath voice.
Sunghoon repeats your fake name to you, feeling the energy shift in an instant.
“No. You just called me–” You repeat your real name to him.
“Ah, sorry babe, must’ve gotten tongue tied.”
There’s a rush of anxiety within you as you stare at the screen. There’s….no fucking way.
Given, you’ve never seen him outside of a suit. The voice you hear doesn’t click in your head as Sunghoon’s either, considering he’s never a man of very many words.
Instantly, you’re covering your camera with your hand, watching how the man on the screen spreads his legs out and drops his cock. Like he’s waiting, like he’s listening, wondering. Are you making a fool of yourself right now?
Are you misreading?
He seems calm, and if it really is Sunghoon…surely he’d be disconnecting right now, right?
Why would he even be fucking himself on camera anyway? The guy makes bank! You’re the one who sees his paychecks, after all. Still, there’s a twisting in your gut as you ignore the way you still drip against your sheets.
Very quietly, just to see, you work up the courage.
“Mr.Park?”
It’s silent for a few seconds as the man on the screen shifts, a blur of movement forcing you into a state of motion-sickness.
You almost thought he was going to chuckle at you and ask if you were thinking about your boss rather than him. You almost thought he would use that to his advantage.
You almost thought you were wrong, but– he disconnects.
A few moments later, you receive an email with a refund of your five hundred dollars.
And two hours later? Lying in your bed with anxiety in your gut, you get a text from none other than Park Sunghoon.
Mr.Park: Can we talk?
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
― part two here!
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[ DON’T BE SORRY. ] : 5.1k words. 𖤐 LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR X FEM READER. — you’re dating the big boss of hell himself, but it’s a sticky situation when you’re also good friends with a tech-savvy overlord who believes the cause of your boyfriend’s daughter is absolute bullshit.
#tags. slight hurt/comfort, slight jealousy, nsfw (+18), fluff, smut, vox being a hell of a friend, lucifer being vulnerable as hell,
a/n. fuuuuck i forgot to post this under the request but this was the request that i wrote this for <33 didn''t even remember they wanted fluff which is lucky bc i suck at fluff so i don't write it too often but i ended up writing in fluff anyway bc it felt appropriate for the fic SO
masterlist. request something :>
“Sir, someone is here to see you.”
Vox growled. His office would have been pitch black if it weren’t for the multitude of tv screens that stared right back at him, boring holes into his screen. They buzzed and whined with a cyan glare bright enough to light the entire pentagram. Claw marks left the edges of his head unpolished, his bowtie askew as his teeth grinded so hard he wanted to encounter a system error.
“Tell Val I am not in the mood for sorting out whatever’s got his panties in a twist this time—”
“Someone else, sir.”
“Well don’t just stand there you useless fuck! Who the fuck is it?” Static shocks ruptured from the wires on his head as he jumped out of his chair fuming.
The employee pulled one of the handles of Vox’s grand doors. In pranced a sunlit woman with a grin that stained her cheeks red. On her arms were shopping bags lined all the way down their forearms, marking their weight on her flesh.
You pulled your rose-tinted sunglasses away from your face as you cocked a brow.
“What, are you not happy to see me Vicky?”
“When are you gonna stop calling me that, you absolute slut!” Vox beamed, and as if a new line of code had entered his program, he shedded his jacket off to peel your shopping bags off you as he set them on his couch.
“What brings you back here after all this time, whore? And whose money are you wearing because I know there’s no goddamn way that’s all yours,” Vox laughed through his clearly lighthearted remarks.
“Whatever. Whore is right because you’ll never guess who I’m fucking.”
.
On the edge of the pride ring resided halls and halls of vintage red wallpaper and intricate gold decor. Knocking frantically at her father’s door just to ask where his partner had gone was never how Charlie would have imagined her morning to go, ever, but here she was, knees wobbling with her hands clasped together as she waited no longer than a second before she had her fist in the air again to—
“Charlie?”
“Dad!”
When Charlie had asked of your whereabouts, Lucifer simply frowned, though a hint of terror struck his shrunken pupils.
“Uh—I thought she was with you? Don’t you guys have that trust building exercise thing on today—”
“Yes! Yes that is precisely why I am panicking—she’s not in her room and she never misses our gatherings! Dad, how do you not know where she is?” Charlie screeched anxiously.
“Relax, Charlie I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for—”
“For her not to tell her own boyfriend where she’s going?” Charlie seethed with dirt kicked into her tone.
“Let me call her, okay?” Lucifer pulled his phone out and speed dialed you.
Something in his room buzzed intermittently.
Charlie peered into her father’s room, only to find another phone rattling on the further bedside table.
Lucifer looked over his shoulder to the same view. His shoulders dropped.
“Ohhh no.”
.
“Face it baby, I got bigger bucks than daddy could ever conjure up.”
“Vox!” You punched him in the shoulder, unable to hold back laughs that pulled at the bottom of your stomach.
“What? Oh my god, you actually call him that in bed don’t you, you bitch? Holy shit, you really are a slut!” Vox cracked up after you both had left his building. “Where to?”
“A few blocks away I got something to show you in the ma …”
Your lips fell numb when your gaze fell on a certain man with a white overcoat tailing in the wind as he approached your direction with a storm in his steps. He had been looking at his sides—your hand moved to shove Vox even before your body could follow.
“Ow, what—”
“Go.”
“Babe, what’s—”
“Vox go GO! Back in now!” You spun him on his heel and elbowed him back into the glass doors of his building lobby.
“Honey?”
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—”
He called your name, loud and clear as day that even the ruby skies of hell echoed it.
“That’s him, isn’t it?” Vox deadpanned.
“Hey!”
Both yours and Vox’s heads turned to the sound, Lucifer just a few strides away from possibly opening a portal down a ring.
“You!” Lucifer barked, gaze locked with Vox’s. “The fuck are you doing calling my girlfriend ‘babe’?”
“Oh, that’s not—”
“Lie to me and I swear to fucking god I’ll make sure they’ll be prying you for parts.”
“Luci.”
“What?” His head snapped in your direction.
A silent gasp escaped you.
His shoes hadn’t nearly been dragged through as much gravel as his voice had been. It was something he’d dug up from the depths of his chest like it was nothing—and it brimmed with the filth of his own disdain.
Lucifer blinked hard as he shook his head. “Honey, I didn’t—”
“We’re just friends.”
“I know that but—”
“It’s an expression.”
Lucifer blinked a few times again, and with each blink he lost more and more tension in his brows, his shoulders—even his lips parted, perhaps to say something, perhaps not.
You and Vox were frozen halfway through the door so Lucifer kicked him in and shut the door quickly to leave you and himself out on the street.
“Why didn’t you tell me where you were going?” Lucifer asked, and it was like he placed a pillow to your head with the way his tone softened. His thumb had somehow ended up stroking soft circles on the back of your palm as he held your hand.
Vox stayed inside but his prying eyes stared through the glass nonetheless. He crossed his arms.
“Don’t look at him, darling,” Lucifer consoled with a lowered voice. He delicately took your chin and pivoted it back to him. “Look at me.”
“Look, can we talk about this back at the hotel?” You asked, but with the tone you used, you were teetering on the edge of pleading. “I’m … I’m sorry.”
“Oh, honey,” Lucifer cooed, tucking away any small pieces of hair that hung over your face. “Of course we can.”
All you could do was give Vox a weary glance before you ducked down into Lucifer’s car and disappeared in the distance.
.
The ride back had not been short of thick silences that hung in the air. Everytime you looked to him for some sort of emotion, there was nothing for you to read; his complexion was a still pond resting under the moon’s grace. Not even anger bubbled up the surface—and this is solely based on your assumption of what he must have been feeling, because he was a blank page. It’s only reasonable.
Lucifer stopped at the newly built hazbin parking lot but didn’t pull out the key.
He looked at you expectantly, turning even his upper body to face you.
You bit your lip.
“You don’t wanna go inside first?” A squeak of a voice was all you managed.
“I don’t want Charlie to see us upset,” Lucifer reasoned solemnly as he frowned at the floor before he returned his attentive gaze to you. “Whatever it is, I’m sure we can work it out in here.”
“I’m … ashamed, okay,” you exhaled, folding your arms over your chest as you slouched forward. “I’m in hell for a reason. I know it looks bad but I’ve known Vox since he was alive. And I still believe in Charlie’s cause! I’m doing better … you know that, right?”
“Of course, I do, sweetie,” Lucifer blurted immediately, holding your arms like he was the glue to keep you from crumbling apart. “But why did you … did you think I wasn’t going to understand if you had told me?”
“Yes,” you admitted. “Even I wouldn’t have understood if I were in your shoes. I mean, I act like a completely different person around him. And I know what Vox has done, trying to send in Sir Pentious as a spy. It’s horrible. But he wasn’t always like that. Or, maybe he was but—never with me.”
“Honey, I trust you more than just about anyone in this hell. And fuck, that’s difficult in this side of the world, right? I mean—I just … you had me thinking the worst. Well, maybe not the worst but—”
“You thought I was cheating on you, didn’t you?”
“No, never,” Lucifer denied immediately as his eyes widened but his brows furrowed. “I knew it was some kind of mistake. I know you’d never do that to me. But you know … catching up with an overlord like it’s a regular tuesday still raises a few questions if—”
“I know that. I’m sorry. I should have told you. I’m sorry,” you repeated rigidly, curling into yourself so much that your head landed on his shoulder as he still held your arms.
Lucifer pulled back to hold your face by the cheeks, and you didn’t struggle against him as he pressed his forehead on yours, his hat tilting up to accomodate you.
“How about a kiss and we’ll call it even?” He smiled, and you felt his warmth spread to your cheeks.
You grinned back. “Okay.”
You tilted your chin up and gave him a kiss, and both of you had sustained it longer than either of you had expected. Your hand cupped his own over your cheek.
Your lips finally parted, but not much before you both reconnected again, then again, and the third time your mouth was a little more open—and Lucifer’s tongue slithered inside.
Your tongue met his, and they rolled over each other every time you kissed him. A few more kisses, and suddenly you were biting his lip lightly. He chuckled.
“I can see you’re eager to make it up to me, princess,” he said in that voice he knew drove you up the wall.
“I am,” you hummed, a little more innocently than you had intended.
“Well, what are you gonna do?” He asked, genuine curiosity brewing in a higher tone.
You slipped away from his flowerbud grasp and pulled the lever of your seat. The backrest declined all the way backwards, and you laid down comfortably while your thumb slid under your dress and hooked around something that was already mildly damp.
“I’m gonna sit back …”
You chuckled as Lucifer’s eyes followed your every movement like a moth to a lamp; he followed the way your underwear slid down your knees before you folded your legs up to your chest to fully rid yourself from the garment. You tossed your underwear in his face before he could get a good view of what he’s getting himself into.
He shook his head in a jolt, crumpling your panties and stuffing them into his pocket anxiously. But by then you were modest again, with your dress covering your thighs but still riding up dangerously high.
“And let you decide the rest,” you finished in a thin breath.
“Goodness, okay, woo! Okay—” Lucifer sputtered and fanned his overcoat as he averted his gaze. It didn’t last long when his gaze gravitated towards your core that had been concealed but outlined your dress.
You bit your lip. “Well?”
Lucifer’s shoulder emerged from his coat as he shrugged one side of it off, and your gaze magnetized to the view as it slipped down him like a snake traversing down a tree.
He planted his knee on the closer edge of your seat and it didn’t take long for him to shift your legs closer together, allowing space for his knees on either side of your thighs. Though, steadying himself naturally had his chest protruding as he held onto the car ceiling for support. His muscles peeked through the folds of his dress shirt, and the same can be said with his chest under his waistcoat. But that—that was no complaint.
He finally fell to you with only his forearms to keep him up. His eyelids sank, his gaze indecisive between your eyes and your dry lips.
He settled on neither when he ducked below your jaw and planted kisses along it before he strayed downwards.
The spaghetti string of your dress slid down your shoulder the more your squirmed at Lucifer’s nibbles. You knew the moment he caught sight of this because he hesitated for a tenth of a second.
He grinned. He took it between his fingers delicately and slid it down further.
“Whoops,” he grinned.
Glossy silicon mocked him as it peeked out from what had been peeled off you.
“Luci, careful with that, I’ll need to put it back on later—”
Lucifer tore it off you anyway, tossing it to the back with his overcoat. “I’ll give you my coat when we go in, you’ll be fine.”
“Luci!” You laughed as he did the same with the other, your nipples stiffened from the cold air of the car.
Lucifer sat on your pelvis, his hands traveling under your boobs to cradle them.
You both have had sex multiple times together, and yet every time he removes undergarments off you, he enters a dazed trance like it was something new. Something to bask in the wonders of.
He massaged your breasts gently, and it didn’t take long before he ducked down and had his lips wrapped around one of your nipples, one hand twisting and playing with the other.
A noise bubbled in your throat but you held your breath and bit your lip. Watching Lucifer hadn’t been any help; he cocked a brow at you, and a cheeky grin still made its way to the red circles on his cheeks as he quicked his tongue’s flicks against you. You gritted your teeth, a squeak making it past your lips.
His hand abandoned the other nipple, but before you could whine in protest a new sensation rose in your lower stomach as Lucifer shifted his entire body further down.
His fingers had already been deep beneath your folds, your clit sitting pretty between as he pinched it and rubbed it in his grasp.
“Luci … fuck …”
“Atta girl,” he chuckled. Hell, you hated just how raspy his voice gets when he’s worked up. That by itself had been a leg-opener all on its own. “That’s it. Let me hear you sing.”
Your legs flinched at the jolt of pleasure his fingers brought, and Lucifer took this opportunity to lift the hem of your dress for easier access—and perhaps, a pretty view.
Every so often, he’d bring the threat of pushing his middle finger past your walls, but through the haze of pleasure, it was impossible to read his intentions when he easily could have been using your juices to lubricate his ministrations on your clit.
It had been like the wave of a wand, the way his free hand undid his tie. It dangled loose below his collar that he used to straighten out so diligently; something once so clean soon turned into a crumpled mess in your name.
His wrist pivoted down to the buttons on his waistcoat. The faintest flick of his thumb and suddenly his waistcoat hung dead on his torso before he rubbed faster on your clit, making your squeal.
Cold air brushed past your arousal at the sudden absence of him, and your walls throbbed against each other in response; they bruised and ached and when Lucifer turned down the brightness of the car light, it was all you could feel besides the leather your nails were sinking into.
“Luci, please …”
“Please what, honey?”
“It hurts,” you whined. You didn’t mean to, and in fact a burning sense of shame rose up to your neck and cheeks as sweat tore through the pores on your forehead but all you could do was grab his hand.
“I’m coming, daddy’s coming.”
A slow zipping sound ensued and just as quickly, the head of his erection pressed into your folds and your dripping walls pushed back from the pressure.
You moaned and grabbed Lucifer’s shoulders out of raw instinct, which brought him closer to you.
“You want it all, princess?”
“Yes, fuck yes,” your mouth sagged numb from having to carry your writhing heart in your throat. The vulnerability of his skin on yours, the way his head was just so warm compared to the cold air earlier—your pussy throbbed once more.
“Are you sure?”
“Please please please Luci I can’t—oh! Fuck!”
He pushed his length into you, your neck arching back as you grabbed a fistful of his shirt from where your hands hung around his neck.
Your throat clogged with the embarrassing sounds you knew you would have let out if you had no restraint left. You closed your eyes, knowing well that they were halfway to the back of your head.
Your stomach seemed to make way for his size in you, tossing and spreading the ache to your limbs as your entire body steeled to accommodate him and the space he filled in you.
“Are you okay?” He asked.
You nodded, and a hole punctured through your throat as you sighed shakily. “Yes, god—”
“Don’t say his name,” Lucifer breathed, his hand soft on your neck as he looked at your lips then back up at you. “If you have to say someone’s name, let it be mine.”
“I’m sorry.” Was the first thing your brain conjured, and the only thing you could utter when all else in there had been undone.
Lucifer kissed your jaw. “Don’t be sorry baby.”
He took your lips in his, his forked tongue brushing past your teeth once more. “Don’t be sorry.”
It was barely considered movement when he pulled out less than half his entire length and pushed in gently, as if you were something fragile he couldn’t afford to drop. You bit your lip and hummed at how smooth he slid into you, how your juices coated him beyond what was needed.
He pulled out quickly but reentered languidly, like a wave finding its way to shore your core clenched at the nerves that tingled in you, the bruises almost sated in what it yearned for as he thrusted again, and your heart spewed.
“Fuck, if you make a sound like that again I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself,” Lucifer panted. “You’re so pretty, it makes me tremble.”
You reached up to give him another kiss, tilting your head along with the circles spinning in it. “Do whatever you want to me. You deserve that much.”
“Yeah? Well, I want to treat you like fucking royalty. Savor every inch if you,” Lucifer hissed through his pleasure. A choked moan left you, causing Lucifer to smile. “Yeah, see? Just like that princess. Fuck, taking me so well …”
With how soft his thrusts were, pressure subsided into more liquid pleasure that sloshed over your nerves. They lit up like christmas lights in your brain as you both moved in tandem to Lucifer’s pace.
A fire had started at your nape from the body heat that had nowhere to go, sweat dripping from your hairline and paving wavy lines of hair that caused your forehead to glisten. Your collarbones warmed up in a different way, Lucifer’s hot breath filling the space between the both of you.
His thrusts grew anxious over time, but his hips never once hit your ass which might have scalded your stomach further; the fact that this man possessed an iron grip over his control in his strokes, he had been careful not to taint you—he only took from places he knew both of you would be enraptured in—and absolutely nothing less.
“Honey, I can’t—” he hissed through gritted teeth as his fingers curled in your hair. His eyes wandered down to how your breasts bobbed to his strokes. He moaned your name, and if the car hadn’t been shaking from Lucifer’s rutting, it shook from the way he proclaimed your name and dropped his head like he was bowing to a god. “Holding me so tight—you worried I’m gonna let go, sweetie?”
“No—ngh! You just feel so good I c-can’t!” You yelped in time with each thrust that followed. “Luci, I—fuck!”
His head perked up, just like the bundle of nerves in that oh-so familiar spot. An old friend.
Lucifer gave a determined grin, sweat trickling down his cheek as he paused to wipe it away.
“Well, hello,” he greeted in a low sultry voice.
He resumed fucking you, but this time he had you screaming his name as his length rubbed up against that spot your body purred to. You shivered and your walls clenched, causing Lucifer to falter.
“F-Fuck, that’s it, good girl,” he grunted in between controlled thrusts that had your gut squeezing. He never once missed.
When your walls fluttered, Lucifer chuffed through his teeth and through the fog of your satisfaction, you indulged in the smell of cotton candy sweat.
“You’re close, princess, so close, I can feel it.”
You gritted your teeth with whatever strength you had left, even your hands had begun to slip from Lucifer’s shoulders.
“You?” Was all you could manage.
“Me? Baby, seeing you like this has me fucked out,” Lucifer huffed. “Shit!”
You squeezed his shoulders before he could pull out.
“In me, Luci!”
He froze, shaking his head to wave away his own daze to focus on you, the things your … request entailed.
“Darling, I don’t have a condom on,” he whispered as the inner corners of his brow quivered.
“You’d make beautiful fucking babies, Luci—I wanna carry them.” Your voice had been obliterated from the sounds Lucifer had fucked out of you. Wispy breaths was what it had become—but the red in your cheeks and your weakened yet felicious state made Lucifer smile.
“You’re not thinking straight,” he said your name and it was nearly enough to get you back down from the clouds. “C’mon, honey …”
“Luci …” you whined. “You’re so goddamn hot when you’re being responsible …”
“Yeah?” He laughed softly, cradling your cheek in his hand.
“Yeah …”
“Let’s finish you up, okay?” He reached up to kiss your forehead but you squeaked from the fact that his length slid deep into you in the process. “Ah, sorry—”
“Don’t be sorry, baby,” you quoted him from last time, and his surprise melted into a warm smile instead. “Please fuck me.”
“As you wish.”
You screamed brokenly as he continued his ruthless pace from before, and he remembered the exact angle to hit. Your nerves were about ready to jump out from your body as you skyrocketed back into the clouds, your orgasm coming sooner than you could warn him.
“Cumming!” He gritted through his teeth as his horns shot up from his head and you both came together with Lucifer’s cum hitting your dress instead.
Your head hung off the car seat’s headrest. Sweat shimmered on the leather you laid on, and your legs trembled from how long they’d been held at the same position. The only thing you two shared now was open-mouth breaths. You thought of moving, but your muscles were well past its limit to even be lifted.
Lucifer twisted around to grab tissues from the passenger seat compartment. In just a few seconds, he wiped out most of the evidence of himself on your dress. By this time, his horns were long gone and his eyes had returned back to its original form.
“Fuck … I didn’t think this through …” Lucifer grumbled to himself as he hit his temple with his palm. He ran his fingers through his hair before he mustered a weak smile for you. “Wait here, I’ll grab your clothes from your room.”
You exhaled audibly as he vanished with a swirl of sparkling red smoke.
A few breaths of silence by yourself wasn’t ideal, especially when you felt the whine and ache of your limbs in the fact that you were as good as scattered leaves across autumn grass.
Just then, your phone buzzed from the cupholder.
You winced as you bent to take it.
Brat >:)
you better not be fucking him right now i swear to FUCKING GOD [ 13:06 ]
you disappear for years and suddenly you’re back and you’re telling me YOU’RE DISAPPEARING AGAIN?&2$:$$3;: FUCKING [ 13:05 ]
HELLO? THE FUCK [ 12 :57 ]
i’m not gonna let even the king of hell himself keep you from me [ 12:16 ]
because i am not done with you yet [ 12:15 ]
bitch you better show me whatever the fuck you wanted to show me earlier before daddy decided to whisk you away like some fucking fairy tale prince [ 12:15 ]
You chuckled as you swiped the notification.
You [ 13:06 ] : bitch you know the dick is good cmon now
Vox [ 13:06 ] : i mean this in the most platonic and murderous way possible, i will fuck you myself if that’ll get you to ACTUALLY BE A FRIEND AND VISIT ME INSTEAD OF DISAPPEARING FOR YEARS
Vox [ 13:06 ] : i already have to deal with the heartbreak of al
Vox [ 13:06 ] : ykw doesn’t matter THE POINT IS THAT YOU ARE THE SHITTIEST FUCKING FRIEND AND I MISS YOU IS THAT NOT REASON ENOUGH
You [ 13:07 ] : okay, okay, how about this sunday then lmaoo
Vox [ 13:07 ] : you better fucking believe i’ll be blowing a fucking hole through that radio prick’s hotel just to pick you the fuck up asshole
You [ 13:07 ] : if i didn’t know any better vicky i would have assumed you’re actually coming to pick alastor up HAHAHAHAAHAHAH
Vox : ( typing … )
Your phone levitated out of your hands and when you followed where it zipped off to—
“Luci!” You sprung up from the declined backrest in surprise.
Lucifer squinted at your phone as he swiped his thumb down on your screen.
“First of all, I’m honored that you’re telling people how well I pleasure you. Second of all,” Lucifer paused, leaning into you as he used his free arm to hold himself up to you. “Vox is in a world of hurt if he thinks I’m gonna let him lay a finger on you.”
“Yeah?” You copied the way Lucifer says it and watched as his face reddened.
You noticed your spare clothes on his lap and you lifted the dress over your head and discarded it on the floor of the backseat.
You held out your hand for Lucifer to hand you your clothes.
He simply looked at your hand, then back at your naked body, then back at your hand as took it in his own.
You laughed. Hard.
“What—what’s happening why’re you—”
“The clothes, baby!”
“Oh—Oh! Right! Shit!” He finally handed you an oversized shirt, fresh underwear and a pair of shorts you used to at-home wear. “I thought you were asking for another round or something, holy shit—”
“I mean …” you smirked.
“Honey …” Lucifer warned, as if trying to keep a predator from attacking.
“Oh? You don’t wanna? My bad,” you replied innocently. “I was just wondering if Vox was free tonight—”
“I know you’re trying to get a rise out of me but honey …” Lucifer trailed off as he flipped your phone and shoved it into his back pocket.
He crossed over to your seat once more and pinned you back down where you once were, one knee pressed on the side of your seat as his hands ended up on either side of your neck.
“I hate to remind you that I am the fucking devil,” his voice dripped with a poison much worse than what you’ve heard from Alastor’s static. His horns hadn’t sprouted out yet but with his eyes aching red, it wasn’t too far from reappearing. “And if you love me as much as I love you then there is no goddamn way in this realm I am sharing you with anyone else let alone some overlord who thinks Alexander is worth anyone’s fucking time.”
“It’s Alastor and—” you paused, combing through your hair idly. “Luci, Vox is only a friend from the living world—“
“A friend who thinks he can fuck you.”
“He’s in hell for a reason.” You crossed your arms.
Lucifer sighed and closed his eyes, the red dissipating from them once they reopened.
“Listen, honey, I—” Lucifer’s gaze lifted away from you for a moment, almost like he’d been overwhelmed with the words clogged in his throat. “You’re someone I can’t afford to … mess up … again. And I know that means simply letting you be. But also, I’ve just—I’ve lost so much, and I only just got Charlie back so I …”
You lifted your arm as your hand fell on his cheek, your thumb softly stroking him back and forth.
He closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath as he placed his hand on yours.
“I know Vox is just a friend. And I know it’s insane to think I’ll lose you to him, but … at the end of the day, this is hell. He still mocks the very thing we’re trying to achieve and I get that you’re not like that and that you’re not easily manipulated but I just …”
“Luci …” you muttered. You sat up and kissed him chastely on the cheek.
“I think about losing you a lot. I think about it to an irrational degree. So it’s not actually something you can fix. It’s something I have to do on my own.”
“Even if that’s true, I can still do my best to be with you and make sure you feel loved everyday. I really was a dick today, I had no idea you were … I’m s—”
“It’s okay. We …” Lucifer chuckled weakly. “We made up, remember?”
“Yeah,” you smiled. “Luci … you know I love you, right?”
“Like the sun loves the moon,” Lucifer said.
And you knew where it came from, maybe not its exact whereabouts but just how deep it was embedded to him, that statement; he himself had witnessed the creation of the sun and the moon. He knew the tides the two shared, the way their yearning for each other’s pull had been the natural way of things, the only way the people could ever experience day like they do night.
I know you love me because we love like it’s fate.
.
You and Lucifer walked into the hotel, your back slouched with Lucifer’s overcoat hanging over your shoulders as you folded your arms beneath them.
“Hey Charlie,” Lucifer greeted, and he told her daughter who was already making her way to you that you weren’t feeling well and that you needed rest. Of course, Charlie nodded and resumed her activities with her other friends.
You retired to Lucifer’s room, the left side of the bed while he took the right.
“I love you,” your chest exhausted what it had been used to holding for him, until you saw him.
“I love you, too,” Lucifer hummed back, a sigh escaping him like cherry blossoms in the wind.
“I love you for the soul you are beneath your bones.”
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel fandom#lucifer hazbin hotel#lucifer morningstar#lucifer magne#hazbin lucifer#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel smut#hazbin hotel vox#vox hazbin hotel#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer morningstar x you#lucifer magne x reader#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel x you#( ✮ hazbin. )#( ⊹ hazbin fics. )#◟𓂅 𓄹 splash zone.#(bindeds.) popular works#✸ written by bindeds . ⊹ ࣪
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4.2 Major
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of sex, mentions of Bucky's past.
Word Count: 1.5k
Previously On...: Bucky convinced Sam to lie to Lily for him if she asks where Bucky is tonight.
A/N: In the car, I just can't wait / To pick you up for our very first date!
Is it cool if I hold your hand? / Is it wrong if I think it's lame to dance?
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You were nervous. Why were you so nervous? This man had already had his mouth on your lady bits; there was no reason to be nervous about just having dinner with him, right? Yet your heart was racing as you waited for Bucky to come pick you up for your date.
You must have checked your hair and reapplied your lip gloss a thousand times when the doorman buzzed to let you know you had a visitor. After telling him to send Bucky up, you glanced at the clock– he was exactly five minutes early, and you stifled a giggle at the thought of him pacing in front of your building until an appropriate time.
Soon enough, there was a gentle knocking at your door, and with a last glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you opened the door.
You both stood there for a moment, taking the other in. Bucky looked positively resplendent in a black suit and burgundy button up– no tie, and the first few buttons left undone. The contrast with his eyes made them look even more blue than you remembered from this morning.
“Hi,” you breathed. “Uh, hey,” he said, seeming to come out of a trance. “You… you look fucking amazing.” You ducked your head to hide your blush– you’d put on an emerald green, A-line Chiffon cocktail dress with an asymmetrical skirt that hit just below your knees and a peekaboo cut in front– held together with beading– and a v-tieback. “Stole my breath for a minute there.”
“Thanks,” you murmured, feeling the blush creep up your cheeks.
“Oh, these are for you,” Bucky said, handing you a bouquet of white roses.
You held them to your face and inhaled. “They’re gorgeous, thank you,” you said, moving aside to invite him in. “You’re spoiling me, you know that, right? First the orchid, now the roses?”
You moved toward the kitchen to find a vase to put the flowers in.
“Did you like the orchid?” Bucky asked, almost shyly, as though he was afraid he’d made a wrong move. You turned back to smile at him. “I loved it,” you told him honestly. “How did you even know orchids are my favorite?”
Bucky chuckled and nodded his head toward your living room wall, where you had three giant paintings of orchid flowers hanging over your sofa. “Just a lucky guess, I ‘spose.”
“You’re very perceptive, Mr. Barnes.” You put water in the vase, setting the flowers inside and placing them on the dividing wall between your kitchen and dining room. “There,” you said, stepping back to admire them.
“You ready to go, doll?” Bucky asked, extending his arm to you.
You took it gladly, slotting yourself next to him as though you were made to fit there. “I am,” you said.
Bucky had borrowed one of Tony Stark’s sports cars for the occasion, and you felt incredibly fancy as you drove through the streets of the city in it. You and Bucky made small talk on your way to the restaurant where Bucky had made a reservation for the two of you, and you found him so incredibly easy to talk to. You talked about the differences in the army between the ‘40s and now, and shared a few light war stories. By the time you reached the restaurant, he had you laughing so hard at a story he told about living with the Avengers that you thought your sides were going to burst.
You weren’t sure what kind of establishment you’d expected him to bring you to, and truthfully, you would have been thrilled with a regular old burger joint, if you were going there with him, but when you stepped out onto the rooftop terrace, you let out a gasp. The restaurant overlooked the Hudson, offering a dazzling view of the sunset over New Jersey. The tables were all tucked behind and around towering pieces of greenery– palms and ferns, and blossoming shrubs offering a screen of privacy for every group of diners. Overhead, cafe lights hung from pergolas, washing the area in a soft, warm light. It was heavenly.
Once Bucky gave his name and the hostess began escorting you to your table, he leaned in to whisper to you “What do you think?”
Your head was moving in every direction as you tried to take in every ounce of ambiance. “It’s gorgeous, Bucky,” you told him truthfully. “How did you find this place?”
“Pepper Potts recommended it,” he said. “She said it was the perfect spot for an intimate meal. Plus, they close for the winter, so if I wanted to take you, I’d better do it on one of our first dates.”
You tilted your head up to look at him, studying his face. “You’re planning multiple dates already?” you asked, a curl to your lips.
“‘Course, doll,” Bucky said as you approached your designated table. “Gotta whole list of things I wanna do with you.”
You felt your face flush as he pulled your chair back for you before gently pushing you in.
“So, what’s on this list?” you asked him once he’d sat himself down.
“Nuh-uh,” he chided you. “They’ve gotta be surprises, at least until we get closer to ‘em.”
There was no way this man was real, you thought. No way you, of all people, could get lucky enough to catch his eye.
The waiter approached, asking if you would like wine for the table, and a panicked look flashed across Bucky’s face. You asked the waiter for a few more moments to decide.
“What is it?” you asked him.
“I have no fucking idea what wine to get!” he said, a hint of desperation in his voice. “Fuck! I knew I should have asked Pepper!”
You reached across the table and put a comforting hand on top of his. “Hey, it’s okay,” you told him. “I actually don’t know shit about wine, myself.” Bucky gave you a skeptical look, but you nodded reassuringly. “How about we just get cocktails, instead?”
The smile Bucky gave you then was equal parts relief and gratitude. “Yeah,” he said, looking much happier. “I’ll get me some of that delicious girly shit.” He winked at you, and you laughed.
The waiter returned shortly, and you both placed your orders. Once he left, you realized you needed to come clean about something.
You cleared your throat. “So, uh, I actually have to confess something to you,” you told him, fidgeting with the napkin you’d placed in your lap.
“Oh yeah?” Bucky asked, leaning forward, eyes sparkling in the soft light.
You closed your eyes, feeling horrible for what you were about to say. “I… I Googled you,” you told him.
Realization dawned on Bucky’s face. “Oh,” he said, expression falling. “Yeah… uh,” he coughed into his hand. “That makes sense. So, you came to dinner to, what? Just let me down gently?”
Your mouth hung open in surprise. “What? No!” You reached over to grasp his hand again, this time interlocking your fingers with his own. “Look, the truth of it is, I told a couple of employees– my friends– about meeting you last night, and they brought up your trial.” Bucky visibly flinched at your words. “I admit, I knew nothing about it– it happened around the same time I was getting divorced, so I was kind of preoccupied for a while,” you said. “So, when my friends told me about the charges, I got… curious.”
You noticed Bucky was studiously looking down at his bread plate, not meeting your eye. “Hey,” you said, tugging gently on his hand. “Look at me.”
He slowly raised his eyes and you were struck with how… remorseful they looked. “The more I read,” you told him, “the more I realized the whole thing was a trumped up circus. Anyone with an ounce of empathy could see that you weren’t responsible for what you were made to do; that you were a victim. They just needed someone to blame, and you were a convenient scapegoat.”
“Doll,” Bucky said, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, “you don’t understand. I–”
“No, Bucky, please,” you said to him. “I don’t want you thinking you have to disclose anything to me unless you want to and you’re ready. I just want you to know that I don’t hold those things against you. I don’t blame you, and I don’t think you should be blamed. I want you to know that none of it matters, not to me. I look at you, and I don’t see the man the media tried to paint you to be. I see someone sweet, who makes me laugh– someone I really want to get to know better. I just want you to know all that.”
Bucky’s eyes were wide as saucers as he took in your words. You were almost afraid you’d said something wrong, after he hadn’t spoken for nearly a full minute, but finally, he squeezed your hand. “Thank you,” he said, voice choked. “You… you don’t know what that means to me. I can’t tell you what that means to me– I don’t have the words. I just… thank you.”
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#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky buchanan barnes#james buchanan barnes#mcu bucky barnes#james barnes
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The Sexy Cardigan
Mushy May in Lucifer's Hollow: Day 6 - Blushing
Copia x Aether
This fic is set in an alternate universe in a town called Lucifer's Hollow. For Mushy May I'll be using the prompts to post little snippets of life for the humans and ghouls that live there 💙 Thank you to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together!
~ In Lucifer's Hollow Copia teaches history at the high school and Aether is a firefighter. ~
Warnings: Copia being awkward and cute, flirty texts idk, nsfw 18+ mdni, 600 words (thank you to @ghuleh-recs for the dividers!)
Aether: What are you wearing?
Copia’s brain whited out when he read the text and he quickly slapped his phone screen down onto his desk. He winced when the sharp noise made a few of his students look up from their tests but after he gave them an awkward smile they went back to work. Unholy hell, what was Aether doing? His phone vibrated again and Copia took a deep breath before turning it back over.
Aether: Is it sexy?
He couldn’t help but look down at himself, seeing his usual button up and cardigan. His pants had felt a little tight this morning but he blamed that on Swiss continuing to show up with pies from his new boyfriend. Copia nibbled on his bottom lip before slowly typing out his reply.
Copia: Are cardigans sexy?
The response was immediate and Copia could feel his cheeks heating up violently.
Aether: On you? Hell yes.
He bit down on his lip to prevent a delirious laugh from escaping. Oh this was not an appropriate conversation to have right now. Copia looked up at the clock on the wall, disappointed to see that there was still an hour left before lunch. Maybe playing along just a bit longer wouldn’t hurt? He slouched down in his chair while he responded.
“Mr. Emeritus?”
“Shit!” Copia fumbled with his phone, cursing again under his breath when it fell to the floor. With a sigh he looked up to see one of his students standing on the other side of his desk. “Sì?”
“Can I go to the bathroom?”
He nodded and waved the student away, managing an awkward thumbs up when they gave him a funny look. Copia looked down at his phone before bending over to pick it up. This was ridiculous, he was terrible at flirting in person so continuing this on the phone would just be even more embarrassing. Determined to delete the text he had typed out he was horrified to see that while fumbling with his phone he had accidentally sent it.
Copia: What about off?
“Merda.” Was there a way to delete sent texts? Copia stayed frozen in place, trying to decide if it was worth googling. An alert from Terzo popped up but he ignored it. He did not have time for whatever the fuck Terzo was up to. “Uh, class?”
Obediently all their heads popped up from their work. Copia began to make mental notes of who had been on their phones but decided today would be a good day to let that go. He started to ask if anyone knew an answer to his problem but his phone vibrated again and the message had his heart speeding up dangerously.
Aether: Even better.
“I have to go to the bathroom!” He jumped up from his desk, banging his knees in the process. His chair shot out from behind him, hitting the wall and making one of his bulletin boards fall to the floor. Lucifer, what was wrong with him? Limping, he made his way over to the door, flinging it open and turning back to his class with as stern a look as he could manage. “No phones!”
He barely avoided breaking out into a run, rushing into the teacher’s lounge and then into the private bathroom inside. The students would be ok on their own for a bit. Probably. Long enough for him to get the nerve to suggest to Aether they continue this conversation that night at his house. In person and hopefully naked.
Terzo would be so proud of him.
If you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list (or if I accidentally left your name off) of this fic or any of my others please leave a comment or send me a dm! Thank you 💙
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#copia x aether#the band ghost fanfiction#ghost band fanfic#mushy may 2024#copia fanfiction#tales from lucifer's hollow#oakie's writing
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Crimes of Essex Proportions (Broadchurch)
Alec Hardy x GN!Reader / requests are open and encouraged
Summary: Alec's stuck on his case. You just so happen to know exactly what he needs to know.
CW: murder investigation, body carving, Alec being tired as usual, reader knowing all the right things inexplicably
Broadchurch Tag List: @clarina04 @kaylinelizabeth4004 @yeethaw13 (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)
___ ___ ___ ___ ___
“Alec, are you alright?”
Your beloved DI is currently sitting at the kitchen table, head in his hands and papers strewn about haphazardly across every single surface in your kitchen (and the lounge room too). The man groans in deep frustration and when he finally pulls his head up from his hands, you have to refrain from giggling at the red marks across his face where his hands just were.
“I just- I don’t ken what the fuck this means,” he replies, not really answering the question but also answering the question for you at the same time. A half-answer. Ah, not alright then, you gather. “I just hate bein’ stuck- I hate it.”
You hum, taking a look over a sheaf of papers being weighed down by his ‘best boyfriend’ mug that he says he hates. He never uses a different one though, you’ve noticed. The papers are full of notes from the coroners. There are some pictures you probably didn’t need to see, but you’re immediately pulled in by the numbers carved on the corpse's chest. ‘203.’ Hmm, interesting. The rope tied around the bodies’ hands also piques your interest as well. You can’t be certain, but- it looks as though it has been woven by hand.
“What don’t you get, sweetheart? Maybe I can help? I know I’m not supposed to, but- you know. Fresh pair of peepers, might be worth something.”
Half of Alec’s face is smushed against his hand, and he pulls the spare seat out for you to sit down at the table with him. He fumbles around with some of the papers before showing you a slightly grainier picture of another body.
“He was found in 2020- there was a- erm, number carved into the skin. Two-hundred- and a little wooden carvin’ of a whale. Cold case, the locals never solved it.”
You look over the image. You know it’s not quite appropriate, but you kind of want that wooden whale. Oh, hang on.
“That’s a sperm whale,” you say, brows furrowing as you pull the image closer to your face. “And- we don’t even really get those here in Broadchurch. Been a few sightings in Scotland, though.”
Alec looks between you and the paper before he interrupts your rambling.
“Hang on- do you- hang on, do some of these things make sense to y’er?”
You blink, dragging your eyes away from the papers to look at your boyfriend. He’s looking at you expectantly, and your mouth opens and shuts a couple of times before you mutter out an- “erm- y-yes?”
“Well, okay- so- here’s the thing,” you say, putting the pictures down and averting eye contact. “Oh, I don’t even know where to start. Okay, so, you know Moby Dick, right?” Alec nods, clearly not following you.
“Well, it was based on this real whaleship called the Essex, and, erm- in 1820 they set sail on a whaling expedition,” you trail off, scratching at your forehead after noticing the look on Alec’s face. “This has a point, I swear- and 2020 was the, uh, the two hundredth anniversary of them setting sail. When did you find this new one?”
You picked the newest victim’s image back up again- “And what’s this rope made from?”
Alec shuffles through some notes before replying.
“Erm- newest victim was found… November twen’y by the beach,” he pushes his glasses back up his nose as he looks for the other requested information. “Twine was made from…. Hogs hair.”
You scoff. Of course. This was just… there was no other way. It couldn’t be a reference to anything else.
“One of the crew mates- Benjamin Lawrence, uh- well when they were sunk by the sperm whale and those that survived were stuck out at sea in their little bitty whaleboats- Benjamin used the time to make a thing of twine with his own hair. I think… just as something to do? I mean, they were stuck out there bobbing along for ninety-three days and eating each other when they started to pop off. What else did he have to do?”
Alec was staring at you, unsure what to make of all this. You brandished the images in front of him.
“See- look, ‘203’ carved into the skin for the anniversary, the hog hair hand-made twine, the date the body was found, the hand-carved sperm whale? Surely there couldn’t be another explanation for all this?”
Alec looked unsure, but based on how he’d appeared when you came in earlier, this was the best lead they had.
“I’d be looking at people with a really big interest in nautical stories. Maybe someone in the historical society? Oooh, I wonder if a distant descendant is living here somewhere from one of the eight survivors.”
“How do y’ken this stuff?” He asked, noting some things down. “I mean- it’s not exactly a rivetin’ subject, is it?”
You chewed on your bottom lip, admiring the images of the hand-made twine.
“Oh, I dunno. I think it’s pretty interesting. A special interest of mine. I’m just… glad I channelled that into creative expression and not… murder.”
“Well, yes, there is that,” Alec replied. He got up from his seat and pressed a hard kiss onto your forehead. “I still don’t ken how y’put all that t’gether,” he said in disbelief.
“Could you, erm- would you mind comin’ into the station later, providin’ a statement f’er all this?”
You wiggle your eyebrows at him suggestively, delighting in the way he laughs. He almost sounds embarrassed. Almost.
“You taking me in, officer? Hmm? Have I been naughty?” A flush creeps up his neck, and oh, isn’t that interesting. Hmm. You might have to see what that’s about later. Maybe he’d like it if you were a little naughty sometimes. “Course I will, love. Just let me know when. You can borrow my books too if you like. I have a few on the Essex.”
“That would be great,” he says, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to the skin. “We could leave now. Sooner we get this case sorted, sooner I’ll be able t’sleep again.”
Makes sense. You peck him on the cheek, grab your coat and find your couple of books from the bookcase in the home office and meet him by the car. It’s crazy to think that your little special interest is helping out with a criminal investigation, but you were happy to help out in any way that you could. And like Alec said, the sooner this whole thing was solved, the sooner you’d get your boyfriend back.
As expected, once all the connections were made between the Essex and the bodies, it didn’t take long for Alec and Ellie to solve the case.
Another criminal behind bars, and a slightly easier sleep for Alec.
And another year passes on the anniversary of the sinking of the whale ship Essex.
#A/N: unofficial companion piece to Denaliwrites' “Dance on a Tightrope of Weird”#A/N: in which two authors infodump about their uber specific special interests onto their unwitting readers#A/N: fun fact- i have a tattoo for the Essex that I got on the 200th anniversary of the ship setting sail and also a shelf full of books#broadchurch s3#broadchurch s2#alec hardy x reader#alec hardy fanfic#alec hardy#broadchurch#david tennant#alec hardy fanfiction#alec hardy one shot#alec hardy imagine#alec hardy x you#alec hardy broadchurch#alec hardy fic#broadchurch fanfic#broadchurch alec hardy#broadchurch fanfiction#di alec hardy#alec hardy imagines#alec hardy drabble#alec hardy x reader insert#inside man#david tennant fanfiction#david tennant x reader#david tennant imagines#alec hardy x yn#alec hardy x gn!reader#alec hardy oneshot
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timezone | #2 so fuck what I'm dreaming, this fame has no meaning
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader (mentions of her having long hair and bigger thighs), chrissy cunningham x robin buckley
chapter summary: Keeping his promise, Eddie heads to sunny California immediately after his second tour to find his friends and, more importantly, the girl who hasn't left his heart despite being out of touch for about three years. Full of hope, he ends up at a bar with a strangely familiar name. The evening turns out to be full of surprises, not just for him.
the story is also avaliable on ao3
previous chapter | masterlist | eddie munson masterlist | general masterlist
songs that I used here: BABY SAID and TIMEZONE by Måneskin
as always, thank you @i-me-mine for help and support, if not for you most of my works wouldn't be published 🥺
I can't count how many times I've changed something here, when I wrote the chapter, everything seemed to look good, but now I have extremely mixed feelings about it. I will be happy if you like it, but I will also understand if you don't, thank you for reading anyway ♥
"How can I help?" a middle-aged woman asked, smiling warmly. If someone had told Eddie a few years ago that he would find himself in this place as he is now he would have laughed at them. Looking around, he felt definitely out of place. The fact that he could now afford to be here still seemed like a bizarre dream.
"We, uh- We are looking for an engagement ring." he said, smiling shyly.
"The most beautiful one you have!" Gareth added patting Eddie on the back. All day long he couldn't stop being happy that he was the one Eddie had asked for help.
They had just finished their second tour which meant a few months off and then hard work on the new album. When the others heard that Eddie's next destination was now California, they joined their friend in renting a big house by the beach together, as was appropriate for rock stars, taking Chrissy with them, who got the exclusive use of the entire basement where she set up a small apartment. The Corroded Coffin boys were also clued into Chrissy's plan right after Eddie agreed to it, and they didn't mind for her to tag along.
"What size?" she asked.
"What?" asked Eddie still lost in thought.
"What size of a ring?"
"Oh! I-I don't know…" he scratched the back of his neck nervously, when he felt a metal necklace under his fingers, he got an idea - quickly unfastened it and handed it to the woman. "Like this one."
"Of course." she nodded.
Although the jewelry store wasn't very big the selection they had was overwhelming. Wanting to choose the most perfect one for you they spent more than two hours there. Fortunately, the shop assistant proved to have the patience of an angel.
Typical for a Saturday night, the beach bar was packed to the brim, and fortunately most people were at tables outside sipping colorful drinks. A few people accosted them for an autograph as they walked toward the bar, and when they finally got there, despite the fact that he was standing with his back to them, they immediately recognized the best-styled hair in the room.
"Am I dreaming or is King Steve standing right in front of me?" shouted Gareth teasingly.
"Yeah, it's me don't cream your pants" Steve turned around with a wide smile on his lips and smoothly jumped over the bar. "Good to see you, assholes." he said and greeted everyone with a hug and a pat on the back.
"Well, well, well…" said Eddie smirking. "I knew it was some weirdo who had to call the bar Upside Down," said Eddie.
"I didn't miss you actually." Harrington laughed while hugging his friend.
"I know you did. Missed ya too, big boy."
"Dude this is really yours? All yours?" asked Jeff in disbelief.
"Yup. You should see it from the beach side, I think you'll find a lot of female fans there." He winked at him insisting on the counter. Without waiting any longer Gareth, Jeff and Simon rushed to the outside of the bar.
"So, what brings you here?" asked Steve returning behind the bar.
"The tour just finished…" sighed Eddie. "I think you know what brings me here."
Steve pressed his lips together with a thin line and just nodded.
"Can I get you a drink first? You might need it." he offered. "On the house."
"What's your suggestion?" Eddie leaned against the counter with his elbows.
"I'd say the demobat will appeal to you, but I'm afraid it will be so good it might kill you."
"Charming as always, Harrington." laughed Eddie. "Interesting name by the way."
"I think you'll like the rest of it, too." he replied, slipping him a drink card.
He was right. In addition to demobat, there was demodog, and demogorgon. Although his favorites were in the "specials" category at the bottom of the card. Dusty-bun, Mad Max, amERICA, Will the Wise, Eleven, Sinclair Ranger and Mike the Paladin brought a wide smile to Eddie's face. "Damn, I miss these shitheads." he said.
"Me too. But I'll never admit it to them. Never in my life." Steve shook his head.
"Same here. One Dusty-bun, please." he said in a super-sweet voice.
"Great choice."
Steve silently prepared two same drinks and sat down opposite Eddie when a short brunette ran up to them.
"Babe! Quickly! I need my good luck kiss before we go on stage!" she said and leaned across the bar. Steve eagerly approached her and brought their lips together.
"You will be amazing, honey, as always." he said as they pulled away from each other. Eddie watched them with a goofy grin, and grunted significantly, drawing the two's attention back to himself.
"Aren't you going to introduce your old buddy?" he asked accusingly.
"Oh, I know you. You are this infamous Eddie Munson." the girl replied crossing her arms over her chest and measuring him from top to bottom. Steve snorted seeing her reaction. "I am Layla." She extended her hand toward him.
"Eddie." He replied grabbing it uncertainly. The note of hostility in her voice surprised him more than a little, but he decided not to worry too much about it for now.
"Are you ready?" asked Steve as the girl walked away toward the small stage.
"For what?" he asked puzzled. In response, his friend only nodded in the direction Eddie was about to look.
He wasn't ready. He definitely wasn't ready to see the love of his life walking onto the stage. You stood by the still-off microphone saying something to the boy who was tuning his guitar. Steve's girlfriend took her place behind the drums, and the other, tall blonde girl grabbed the bass. A second boy stood by the keyboard.
Feeling his heart speed up second by second, he didn't take his eyes off you. You were wearing slightly ripped denim shorts and a T-shirt with the logo of your favorite band with a cut-out neckline. Your hair was much longer than he remembered, tied up in two braids. You looked stunning. As soon as you started the show, his mind blew up. You sang in duet with the guitarist, having the time of your life out there. And Eddie couldn't get out of his awe and surprise that this was the same person who just a few years ago avoided being in the spotlight like a fire.
What's your thoughts about religion? Are you close to your mother? Tell me 'bout your dream vacation And all of your ex lovers Tell me now What's that look on your face? She puts her hand on my lips, begging "Please, end this conversation"
Baby said "When you're talking, I go dead" "Shut your mouth, give me your head" I know you really want to Baby said "Let me taste your silhouette" "You can talk between my legs" I know you really want to
He enjoyed it until he started listening to the conversation of two men sitting at the bar next to him.
"I would love to talk between her legs." laughed one of them. Eddie violently turned his head toward him to see the blond man devouring you with his eyes.
"Dude she could crush you with those thighs. She'd have to lose a few pounds first." the other parsed.
"You don't know what's good."
Eddie involuntarily clenched his fist, not knowing which one he should punch first, the one who drooled at the sight of his girlfriend or the one who criticized your look. Steve watched with amusement as he sent them murderous glances, but made no comment. Despite the fact that it was his friend, and he would probably follow him to hell a second time if he had to, he partly thought Eddie deserved a little suffering.
At the same time…
The music in the club was playing loud enough that Chrissy could clearly hear every word of the song. She stood in front of the building nervously rubbing her hands trying to motivate herself to finally go inside. She had been standing there for the past twenty minutes, every now and then changing her mind about whether she should be there at all. In New York she was categorically forbidden to appear in such places, her old manager would have had a heart attack if anyone had seen her around. Now, after breaking her contract and moving to a slightly smaller agency, her manager has made it clear that Chrissy's comfort is most important, showing her support in every way. As long as she acted sensibly and took care of herself, no prohibitions threatened her.
Taking a deep breath, she took two steps forward only to give up moments later and start backing away, bumping into someone along the way.
"Shit, sorry!" the girl shouted and they both turned in one another's direction.
"N-no it's me who's sorry!" she replied raising her eyes to look at her face. "Oh my god, Robin? Robin Buckley?" she asked smiling.
"Chrissy! What a meeting!" she laughed nervously.
"What are you doing here?"
"I came to the party." Not expecting such a reunion, Robin definitely didn't know how to behave in Chrissy's company. She felt uncomfortable.
"Right, silly me." The blonde rolled her eyes while knocking lightly on her forehead.
"How about you? Are you waiting for someone?"
"No, I came here alone. My new manager said I should come over here, meet more people like me, but all in all I've never been alone at a party in my life, in high school you know, then at every party Eddie or Gareth or Jeff or Simon was with me, so now I'm standing like an idiot and have been trying to get in for twenty minutes. Actually I don't know why I'm telling you all this, oh my God, you probably think I'm stupid." A waterfall of words came out of her mouth uncontrollably, Robin's presence made her feel nervous, but on the other hand, a part of her wanted their paths to just go like that.
"Chrissy…" began Robin scratching the back of your neck. Despite the fact that the girl standing in front of her was considered the most beautiful woman in the states, and more than once Robin had caught herself looking at covers with her for too long, she also believed that right now an embarrassed and flushed Chrissy looked incredibly cute, which took her even more out of her mind. She knew she shouldn't think like that. Hell, she shouldn't even be talking to her. "You know, uhm, you know this is a gay club, right?"
"Yeah, I know." sending her a meaningful look.
"Oh." Buckley replied looking even more confused. Chrissy Cunningham who was sitting in the first row in church every Sunday, dating the handsomest boys in Hawkins, Eddie Munson's girlfriend, was standing here now saying that in this place she would find people like herself? Not daring to ask for an explanation, she merely nodded and an awkward silence fell between them.
"Maybe…can we go inside and have a drink together? Talk about old times and catch up on current ones?" the blonde finally asked with hope in her voice, to which the other agreed after a moment's thought.
When they went inside Chrissy looked in disbelief at all the people inside. People who were brave enough to be themselves. Disbelief quickly turned into delight when she realized that she wasn't alone and that it wasn't that there was anything wrong with her. The words she had heard in church about people like this, people like her, went through her mind. All those years she had spent in fear of herself, of how much she had sinned with her mere thoughts about Lucy, the assistant captain of the cheerleaders. All those years in which she forced herself into relationships with boys she didn't like one bit, who made her sick when their hand tried to wander under her short cheer uniform skirt.
The hell the pastor was scaring her with no longer impressed her. She had survived hell in 1986 and now she was sure she was a million times stronger than she used to be.
She grew more and more excited as she saw those people enjoying themselves on the dance floor, as two girls not far from her whispered sweet nothings in each other's ears and carelessly showed tenderness. Would she someday be able to experience this too?
Sitting down at the bar, they each ordered a drink initially sitting in silence glancing in each other's direction from time to time. With one more glance and a sip of alcohol through a colorful straw, they both burst out laughing, nodding to each other at the strangeness of the whole situation. Taking the initiative, Chrissy began to ask her about her college, then Robin listened curiously about a recent fashion show where Chrissy was the lead model. As time went on, the conversation got smoother and smoother, the girls became more and more comfortable in each other's company, joking more often and not holding back their tongues. It turned out that Robin makes great parodies of high school teachers, making Chrissy laugh to tears in the process.
A few drinks later, they were both starting to feel a gentle buzz in their heads. Not knowing why, for most of the evening, instead of focusing on what she should be doing, Chrissy couldn't take her eyes off Robin's wildly gesticulating hands and the sparkle in her eye that she noticed when she laughed at her jokes every time. Unfortunately, she also noticed the moment when the sparkle was extinguished and the smile disappeared immediately when a tall black-haired girl, looking a bit older, approached them.
"Hi!" she came up smiling. Robin left her without replying by taking a straw to her mouth and pretending to be busy drinking. The tension between them was palpable. "Can we talk outside?" Still no answer. "Robin, can you stop acting like a child?" That was it, the crack of the dam inside Buckley was nearly audible as she set her drink down on the countertop.
"Oh, sorry, since when is not wanting to talk to the girl who cheated on me childish behavior?" she replied crossing her arms over her chest.
"Come on, I just want to talk!"
"But I don't want to talk to you," she said.
"Do you want to sit here miserably alone the rest of the evening getting drunk?"
"Excuse me." grunted Chrissy. "Robin is not alone here, and it just so happens that we were having a great time before you showed up here." She stood beside her intertwining their fingers. When Robin felt Chrissy's small hand in hers she almost had a heart attack looking at everything with shock. Only when the girl squeezed her hand giving the sign to play along she shook herself and smiled.
"Oh, yes, sorry." she said quickly. "Chrissy, this is Diana, Diana, this is Chrissy." she introduced them to each other.
Diana measured her ex-girlfriend's new companion from top to bottom, feeling out of rhythm. "I didn't know you had a taste for blondes." she said raising an eyebrow. Looking at the petite, gorgeous and adorable blonde who was her complete opposite feeling jelaous.
"Oh she does! We've known each other since high school, we were already crazy about each other! Unfortunately, in a small backward town we couldn't enjoy it like we do here." Taking a step forward Chrissy's hand moved to Robin's waist, gently hugging her.
"W-what? you never said anything..." Diana turned to Robin, but when she didn't manage to say anything, Chrissy continued on, seeing how her lie brought that one out of her groove.
"Our break-up was very hard, and I'm not surprised that Robbie didn't mention anything." Robbie? Oh god why is it so hot in here and why is my heart beating so fast? Calm down Buckley, you don't like at all how she held your hand just now. For God's sake, you don't like at all how she is hugging you! Being too busy talking to herself in her mind she simply let Chrissy continue. "Fortunately, we have found each other again, and this time I have no intention of letting her go. Now, if you'll excuse me, I want to go dancing with my girlfriend." Without waiting for an answer she dragged Robin to the dance floor.
"Holy shit, Cunningham, what was that?" she breathed out.
"I just wanted to help, she didn't look like she was going to leave you alone." Chrissy shrugged her shoulders. "Now don't just stand there, dance," she said.
"I'm so stressed right now, I think my body has forgotten how to move."
"Silly." She giggled and took Robin's hands placing them on her waist as she began to move her hips in rhythm and after a moment threw her arms around her neck. In Robin's head, the internal conversation with herself turned into a non-stop scream of panic. "Try to follow me. She's still looking at us."
The truth was that Robin had long forgotten about Diana. Her entire thoughts were occupied by the little blonde swaying her hips in front of her and how she shouldn't feel such overwhelming pleasure. She wanted to kill all the butterflies she felt in her stomach.
When she finally joined the dance she tried not to notice that they were getting closer and closer with every step. Somewhere near the end of the song there was no visible break between them, together with the fading melody they stopped moving however they did not let go of each other's embrace. Breathing heavily, their faces also began to move closer together. Robin's brain, which just a moment ago was trying to control the situation, shut down and let her lips taste the sweet gloss on Chrissy's mouth, who quickly responded by dipping one of her hands into Buckley's short, slightly sweaty hair. The kiss was interrupted by an uncontrollable smile that crept onto Cunningham's lips. Robin snapped out of her magic trance and with difficulty swallowed when she realized what had happened. Seeing Chrissy leaning into her side again she stepped back slightly.
"Chrissy-we shouldn't." She said stopping her by the shoulders.
"Didn't you like it?" she asked disappointedly.
"It's not like that! Liked it very much, but- something I don't understand. What about Eddie?"
"Oh." Only now she remembered everything. She was so fascinated by the evening and Robin's meeting that she completely forgot about some other important things in her life. "It's not what you think! Eddie And I- Damn." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Will you let me explain? Please. Let's go to my place and I'll tell you everything you want to know. Please." She wasn't sure where such sudden desperation had come from, but the kiss had awakened a whole new feeling in her toward Robin. She definitely didn't want it to end with just one. She wanted to be close to her, much closer than she would have expected.
"Okay, let's go."
"You were a wonderful audience, as always!" shouted the guitarist into the microphone. "Today, however, before finishing, we wanted to present you with one more song. The latest work of our wonderful and lovely y/n" he nodded in your direction, at which you sent a small kiss in his direction. Eddie did his best to ignore the sting of jealousy he felt upon seeing this little interaction and began clapping with the others.
You're wearing my old clothes, but you, you wear it better And every time I see your face, the moon should be jealous And I keep talking to the wall 'til he's a friend of mine I call you every hour just to tell you that I'm losing my mind
Now I know you're sleeping Where I'm supposed to be in Wish I could've stayed
Eddie has had many moments in his life when he felt he was running out of oxygen and suddenly the whole weight of the world was falling on his head. Now it was additionally joined by a burning sensation. He had the feeling that the small box he kept in the inside pocket of his leather jacket was burning a hole in the material, and then in his skin and heart. He knew the words perfectly well, remembered the circumstances under which he said them because he replayed the scene in his head night after night.
Only thing that keeps us apart Is seven thousand miles, running like a mad dog Only thing that keeps us apart Is a different timezone So fuck what I'm dreaming, this fame has no meaning I'm coming home Only thing that keeps us apart Is a different timezone
Tomorrow I got another plane, I'm not gonna take it Instead, I'm gonna fly straight to you, I paid double for the tickets And I don't give a shit about the contracts that I signed And they can say whatever, we'll be making love, I'm fucking you tonight
Now I know you're sleeping Where I'm supposed to be in Wish I could've stayed
Despite the fact that you sang again in duet with the guitarist for Eddie there was only your voice with which you sent strong emotions that crept into his body tightening around his heart. It was as if these emotions turned into vines and trapped him in a strong grip from which he could not escape.
Only thing that keeps us apart Is seven thousand miles, running like a mad dog Only thing that keeps us apart Is a different timezone So fuck what I'm dreaming, this fame has no meaning I'm coming home Only thing that keeps us apart Is a different timezone
So fuck what I'm dreaming, this fame has no meaning I'm coming home Only thing that keeps us apart Is a different timezone
Without thinking much as soon as you finished the song and received thunderous applause he moved straight towards you. You stood with your back to him talking to Layla, who immediately noticed him and squinted her eyes watching his every forward step. Seeing your friend's strange look, you turned around to see what was causing it.
The world stopped. When your eyes met he smiled showing dimples in his cheeks, at the sight of which you were reminded of your beginnings.
"I swear I could live in them." You said laughing and kissing his entire face. "I love your dimples, I love your smile, I love you, Eddie Munson." That was the first time you confessed your love for him. When it occurred to you what you had done you opened your eyes wide and saw his smile become even wider. "That's good, because I love you too." he replied and kissed you passionately. "I have no intention of stopping, ever."
You didn't believe you would ever meet again. You didn't believe that you would ever again be close to the person for whom you were dying of longing. Now he was standing in front of you. Your Eddie. As an unconditional first reaction, a smile also appeared on your lips.
Unfortunately, you quickly came back to earth. This was not your Eddie. He hadn't been yours for a long time. He was hers. Suddenly all the people surrounding you in the bar were gone, you felt alone again, scared and hurt, surrounded by silence and emptiness. The heart that you had been trying to patch together for years had again turned into a dandelion whose parts were blown away by the wind to all parts of the world, so that nothing would be able to put them back together again. Again you felt liters of tears gathering in your eyes exactly as you did on the day when it was revealed that the new favorite couple in show business is the rebellious Eddie Munson and his complete opposite the charming and beautiful Chrissy Cunningham. The same Chrissy he assured you was just a friend and you had nothing to worry about. The same Chrissy he once had a crush on, but apparently that was in the past. The same Chrissy who, to Eddie, was supposed to be like Steve to you, the sibling you didn't have.
Without thinking twice, you turned on your heel and with a quick step walked out of the bar towards the beach. Of course, he moved right behind you when he felt a firm grip on his wrist and nails digging into it.
"You've got to be kidding me!" Layla exclaimed looking him straight in the eyes. "I won't let you close to her, not after what you did."
"You don't understand, let me go!" he said trying to break free.
"And what would your girlfriend say about it, hm? What would your little supermodel girlfriend say about it?"
"Fuck- just let me go! Let me explain it to her, you don't fucking understand!" Eddie was becoming more and more desperate. He understood why Layla was so protective of you, apparently you had to tell her everything, but neither you nor she knew the truth because you never gave him a chance to justify himself.
"Baby let them talk." Steve suddenly squeezed through the crowd. "It's been years, just let them talk."
"Really Steve? Are you fucking serious? Do you want to go through all this again? Do you want to let him destroy her like he did right after he left? Do you want her to lock herself in her room again for months and push us all away? She's barely learned to enjoy life and you want to let him destroy it again!"
"Listen-" said Eddie finally releasing his wrist. "I know what you're all thinking, and I can assure you that you're damn wrong, all of you! And I can explain it all to you but for heaven's sake let me talk to her first!"
Layla looked at Steve, who sent her a pleading look. She rolled her eyes and without a word squeezed between them walking away towards the bar clearly annoyed. Eddie turned to leave however felt Steve's hand tighten on his shoulder.
"Now you listen." he said with a serious face. "You're my friend and I believe you want to fix things and there's some strange explanation for all this. But I swear that if you break her heart again I won't even defend you when Layla wants to scratch your eyes out."
"I don't want to hurt her, I want to explain everything and make things right, you have to believe me, I love her, damn it Steve, I never stopped loving her."
Harrington just nodded his head and let him go. Quickly running outside, he looked around hoping that he would still be able to find you somewhere. After a while he spotted your silhouette sitting by the shore. He pulled off his shoes and socks and grabbed them in his hand to walk barefoot towards you and sit down next to you. Your knees were pulled up to your chin and your feet dipped into the soft sand. The murmur of the waves perfectly punctuated the sounds of the music and people in the distance. Their sound was soothing, it was easy for him to imagine that the beach, especially during sunsets was your favorite place. You fit perfectly there, and he had the fondest hope that someday he, too, would have a chance to fit back into the picture right by your side.
"What do you want Eddie?" you asked without taking your eyes off the water.
"I- I want to talk, to explain." he said quietly watching a small smile full of pain appear on your face.
"Explain what? That you were just waiting to get away from me and finally fall into the arms of your dream girl?"
"She is not- y/n I beg you, let me explain it all," he said.
"No. I don't want to hear it." you said rising, he did so as well. "I'm not going to listen to lies about how you loved me, and that's not at all what I think."
"What? you think I didn't love you?"
"You could only seem to have loved me since in your head it was Chrissy all the time anyway." The bitterness in your voice made him sick.
"Stop it. Fucking stop it." he said clenching his jaw. You could blame him for all the evils of the world, but to suggest that he never loved you was an overstatement. "Just listen to me, for the first time in three years listen to me and just start talking after that." he said.
"And what would you like to hear from me?! You heard the last song, didn't you? Would you like to hear that I wrote it thinking about you? You don't even know how many nights I wasted crying into my pillow and dreaming of those words coming out of your mouth! I agreed to this fucking break so that we could enjoy something new, but I didn't expect that I couldn't enjoy anything without you, I loved you so damn much Eddie. That's why I let you go completely and let you enjoy the life you always dreamed of. I'd a million times rather think about you fucking some random groupies on a tour bus every night than less than three months after our breakup to find out that the rising rock star is madly in love with super model Chrissy fucking Cunningham! You always said that my insecurities had no basis, that I shouldn't worry about the fact that you once had a crush on her, you kept telling me that she was just a fucking friend I definitely didn't need to worry about, and it turned out that as soon as you got rid of me from your life you immediately flew to her! Three years, it's been three fucking years and I still can't get over it! I hate that you have moved on and are living the best possible scenario. I hate that this scenario doesn't include me." You were fuming. Your glazed eyes looked at him with hatred. His sadness-filled eyes that you used to adore looking into so much. The full, pink lips that you loved so much to kiss and feel all over your body. The neck into which you cuddled your face after a hard day and kissed the wet paths on it. The pain you felt was increased the moment your attention was caught by the necklace hanging on it. Without thinking, you moved closer and pulled it out from under the collar of his shirt. He still had it. You looked at the pick and the ring in shock.
"y/n…" when his hand touched your cheek you flinched.
"You don't deserve to wear this." Anger darkened you completely, you tightened your fist around the necklace with all your strength and ripped it off.
"What the hell?" he asked shocked. He watched in disbelief as you threw the most precious thing in his entire life straight into the sand. He immediately crouched down to pick it up and put it safely in his pocket. His heart was breaking in half, feeling how he could not control his tears he quickly stood up walking straight towards you. At the last moment he managed to grab your hand.
"Don't touch me! Don't come near me because I can't stand it Eddie. If I let in one more time I will never be able to let you out again and that will kill me. You have your dream life, your dream girl, you don't need me, sometimes I think you never needed me." You said trying to break free.
"Don't say that! Don't you dare say that I never needed you! That I didn't love you! I loved you, I love you and I will love you for the rest of my fucking life!"
Before you had time to react in any way he pulled you to him and kissed you. The kiss had the taste of salty tears, but you weren't sure if they were yours or his. Despite the hatred you felt, you couldn't help how you surrendered to the moment by kissing him back. Your heart completely took over.
The moment didn't last long, though, as it was interrupted by a flash from the camera. Frightened, not knowing what was happening, you jumped away from him and looked in the direction from which the light appeared for the second time.
"Are you fucking kidding me?!" shouted Eddie furiously walking towards the paparazzi. "You fuking piece of shit!" he sped up his stride. He felt like rushing at the paparazzi with his fists and then throwing the camera straight into the ocean. Unfortunately, the man turned out to be much faster and ran away. When he turned around, you were gone.
"Holy shit, you live here?" Robin looked with open mouth at the beautiful house with the ocean behind it.
"Yeah, with the boys, they gave me the whole basement so I could set up my own little apartment there, sharing a bathroom with four guys could be tough," laughed Chrissy. "Do you want to go inside?"
"Can we…Can we stay outside? I can't believe you have an ocean behind the house."
"Sure, let's go." she said and grabbed Robin's hand, leading her to the back of the house, where they sat on a wooden garden swing.
"This place is just like from a movie." commented Robin trying not to think about the fact that even though they had already sat down they were still holding hands.
"So, you wanna know the truth?" asked Chrissy uncertainly changing the subject. Robin nodded in response. "When I got the contract in New York, I thought I was winning my life, that I would finally be happy, finally all my dreams were coming true…" she sighed. "But I was quickly brought back down to earth. It turned out that my manager was homophobic, so I never dared to tell her the truth about myself."
"I'm so sorry…" Buckley squeezed her hand, to which she responded with a warm smile.
"The real nightmare began when they came up with an brilliant plan to promote me through a relationship with a sleazy fashion designer who was twenty years older. I didn't know what to do, so in a panic I lied that I had a boyfriend, and that's how I found myself in Eddie's apartment begging him for help. This was the first person I came out to and at that moment I thought I was going to die of nerves, I was wrecked and scared, and Eddie wasn't even shocked. He immediately understood and tried to calm me down. Then I proposed the whole plan with a pretend relationship. I needed someone reliable, and Eddie seemed perfect for that. We both ran away from Hawkins to start a new life in New York, the world immediately believed it, I didn't even know when we became the most recognizable couple in America and our careers just exploded."
Robin connected the dots in her head, everything the blonde said sounded crazy, but without knowing why she believed her. "I'm really glad you were able to get away from it all." she said quietly.
"If it weren't for Eddie my life would still look like a horror, I'll never be able to make it up to him…"
"He is a great friend." commented Robin, knowing that if she were in such a situation Steve would have done exactly the same thing. However, this did not stop the unpleasant feeling.
"I know what you're thinking and I feel terrible about it." Chrissy said, turning her head away. "I hate that by doing this to save myself I destroyed what Eddie had with y/n. She stopped talking to him, didn't respond to his letters, when Eddie agreed to the plan he said that the condition was that I would tell her everything, and I really wanted to do it as soon as possible! I was ready at any time to tell her the whole truth, but she didn't even give a chance to explain."
"Oh my God…" Robin bent her head back looking at the stars. She remembered what the first few months were like when Eddie and Chrissy's relationship became "offcial." You locked yourself in your room, went out only for classes and completely shut yourself off from people. Robin could hear the sounds of quiet sobs echoing around your apartment almost every night, but when she offered to be by your side at those times you just shooed her out of the room. You could have saved so much suffering if only you had given him a chance to explain. One little conversation a few years ago and things would look different now.
"You know, y/n is my best friend and in a way I understand her attitude. When we found out, we were all shocked, after all, everyone remembered that these two were madly in love with each other. Do you know about their arrangement? About the break?"
"I know, and I think you also know why we ended up in California after their tour ended," he said.
"I wish she'd let him explain it, everything would have looked completely different, and we wouldn't look so bad here now," she said.
"Maybe it could all be fixed? Maybe we could try to look good? When we moved here I broke my contract with that agency, I am now in a new one, which is not as well-known, but here they take care of me. My new manager knows everything and said that Eddie and I can end this whole pretending thing, but the label that handles Corroded Coffin isn't thrilled with the idea, so we're still in this, but Eddie is working on how to finally convince them to let us end it." she looked at her with hope in her eyes. They were so light and shiny under the gentle light of the moon and the stars. Robin's heart was melting.
She really wanted to believe that this had a chance of working, but she also knew that unless you let them tell you the truth nothing would be fully right.
The two sat in silence lost in thought as Chrissy moved closer to Robin.
"I'm sorry." she said quietly, resting her head on her shoulder.
"For how I was in high school. That I let Jason and his half-brains laugh at you. You didn't deserve it. I'd like to meet you under better conditions than the end of the world and struggling to survive."
"That's in the past, we can forget about it." she replied sincerely. Sitting now with Chrissy cuddled in her arms, she was able to forgive everything.
"I know it's crazy, but I feel like I'd like to try." Chrissy said quietly.
"Try what?" Robin pulled away sending her a surprised look.
"Us." As their eyes met, the world began to spin anew. Getting into a relationship with Chrissy was risky, they still didn't really know each other very well, but there was something, some invisible force that drew them to each other.
"How about a date when it will all be cleared out?" Buckley couldn't help herself, did that make her a bad friend? Now that she knew the truth she didn't feel as bad about it as she did at first.
"I would love to!" the excited blonde threw her arms around her neck pulling her close. When she pulled away, they were still close together. Sending nervous smiles in each other's direction once again, they began to move closer together. The gentle brushing of their lips was a hopeful sign. Before they could continue, though, they heard curses and the clink of keys. Intrigued, they went with the sound to see a furious Eddie who, with shaking hands, could not hit the door with his keys.
"Fucking bullshit!" he shouted banging his fist against it.
"Eddie? What happened?" asked Chrissy seeing the state her friend was in. Instead of at her, his eyes focused on Robin standing two steps away.
"Buckley? What are you doing here?" he asked puzzled.
"We, uh…" the girl didn't know what to say.
"I met Robin at the club and invited her here, I hope it's not a problem?" interjected Chrissy. "Give me the Keys." she said and opened the door. The three of them went inside. Eddie aggressively pulled off his shoes and threw his jacket into the closet with all his strength, but the jacket flew out of it a second later, and from the inside pocket of the jacket a small box that had been weighing him down all the way home.
"I was ready to fall to my fucking knees the moment I saw her." he said seeing the girls look at it in shock. After a moment, Robin picked it up and opened, showing the ring. "She thinks I never loved her. She thinks she has meant nothing to me all this time." his voice began to crack. "She hates me and didn't even give me a chance to explain it all. On top of that, that fucking paparazzi, I swear I'll kill the shithead as soon as I see him!" he walked toward the couch and sat down heavily on it, pulling a broken necklace from his pocket and placing it on the glass coffee table.
Chrissy looked at him with horrified eyes, she knew like no one else that Eddie cared about it like it was the most precious thing in whole world.
She approached slowly and knelt by the table taking it in her hands. Looking at her friend whose cheeks were streaming with tears, she couldn't help the guilt that had awakened in her. It was her fault, it was because of her that Eddie was losing the love of his life. "She said I didn't deserve to wear it." he said quietly. "She ripped it right off my neck." His voice was small, weak and helpless. "I love her so much, I never stopped Robin, you have to believe me." it was painful for him to have to keep assuring others of his love for you at every step, because no one wanted to believe him.
"I believe you." she said, sitting down next to him. "I know everything, Chrissy told me everything."
"She did?"
"Yeah, and now that I know everything, I want to help you. I'll try to convince y/n to give you a chance to explain everything."
"Thank you." he said hugging her tightly to himself.
"But now I should go, I don't want y/n to be alone today, I think you understand?"
"Of course, thank you Rob." he replied while wiping away tears.
"I'll call you a cab." offered Chrissy.
While they waited for the cab the girls exchanged phone numbers, Robin leaving promised to call as soon as she returns to the apartment. She also received a kiss on the cheek from Chrissy as a goodbye, which revived the butterflies in her stomach.
When she entered the apartment she noticed that the door to your room was ajar, peeking in there she noticed that you were asleep. Not wanting to wake you up, she just called the number she got earlier, toold them that she didn't talk to you because you had fallen asleep and went to bed herself as well, wondering how to clean up the mess you all found yourselves in.
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#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie stranger things#stranger things fanfic#justice for eddie#stranger things#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x you#stranger things eddie#fanfiction#fanfic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson imagines#eddie munson stranger things#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson angst#corrodedseraphine#corrodedseraphine fanfiction#ao3 fanfiction#ao3 fanfic#corrodedseraphine timezone#rockstar!eddie#rockstar!eddie munson#rockstar!eddie x reader#eddie munson x fem!reader
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Stranger Things | 5/5 | T | 4k | ao3
Stand Up and Shout part 5
[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4]
Part 3 of the aro stobin cinematic universe on ao3 (can be read separately)
Tags: aromantic stobin, fake dating, queerplatonic relationship
Friday, February 14th, 1986
Robin faces the next morning with an appropriate amount of dread, she thinks, for the situation she’s found herself in. Like, yeah, Chrissy and Jason’s argument wasn’t really her and Steve’s fault, but it also wasn’t not their fault either. What’s she supposed to say if she shows up and Chrissy’s still sad? Can she apologize? Will apologizing make Chrissy more upset? That would genuinely be her worst nightmare, and she’s had a lot of nightmares.
And, of course, on top of everything it’s Valentine’s Day. Chrissy’s probably miserable, Robin was too nauseous from stress to eat breakfast, and now she has to sit through an entire day dedicated to romantic love — a thing she does not experience and wasn’t too keen on even when she thought she did, on account of the whole ‘only being for straight people’ thing. Yippee.
If Munson sets one single booted foot on that table she will not be held responsible for her actions.
Gareth, keen-eyed as he is, notices this the second she steps into the band room. His eyebrows shoot straight up and he starts patting Vickie frantically on the shoulder to get her attention. Vickie looks up from her notes, frowning, and then does a double take when she sees Robin.
“Uh oh,” she says.
“Have either of you seen Nancy?”
“No,” Gareth says carefully, “why?”
“I might need her expertise,” Robin says, fighting a scowl. Hopefully not — there’s always a possibility she’ll go into the cafeteria and see Chrissy looking happy as a clam — but it’s always good to be prepared.
“In what, article writing?” Gareth asks, laughing nervously.
“Something like that.”
Vickie starts packing her notes away, tucking them neatly in a worn binder dotted with a few golden star stickers.
“I’m guessing it didn’t go very well,” she says with a sympathetic smile.
Robin sits down heavily in one of the shitty folding chairs with a groan.
“It was fine at the beginning!” she insists, because it really was. They were within normal awkwardness range back at the bowling alley, it only got weird near the end when Jason got fussy. “I don’t know what happened, one minute we were all having fun and then the next thing we knew Carver was upset, which made Chrissy upset, and by the time we got to dinner it was literally unbearable.”
“Seriously?” Gareth says, crossing his arms like he’s personally offended. “What the hell is his problem?”
Robin throws her hands up, “I don’t know! I mean I guess Steve and I started fucking around a bit because we both suck at bowling, so maybe he got annoyed?”
“Maybe he thought you were having too much fun,” Vickie suggests, sounding a little too irritated for the joke to land properly. “Ugh, don’t waste your time worrying about him. He’s the one who invited you in the first place, and he can’t even be polite?”
“I’m not worried about him,” Robin says with a sigh. “I’m worried about Chrissy, I think they might’ve had a fight because of us.”
“Seriously?” Gareth says again.
“Seriously,” Robin echoes, slumped over with her chin braced on her palms.
The double date was supposed to be something fun for all of them. Chrissy had looked so excited when she invited them, like she was genuinely looking forward to spending time with her and Steve even though they barely knew each other. The bowling wasn’t half bad either — she wouldn’t mind going back sometime, even though they clearly suck at it. Maybe they can invite Chrissy again if she still wants anything to do with them.
“Okay, I know it’s probably not the time,” Gareth starts, looking seriously at Robin, “but I have to ask. What’s the deal with you and Harrington? For real, this time.”
Robin shifts awkwardly in her seat. She knew this was coming — expected it since that first lunch on Tuesday, to be honest — but she still doesn’t really know what to say. It’s not just that she doesn’t want to explain the details of her and Steve’s queerness, she’s not sure she can. How do you explain the absence of something? How can she get them to see something that isn’t there? The gaping hole that makes them different from everyone else.
And even if she manages to get them to understand that, how could she possibly explain her relationship with Steve? What she has with Steve definitely isn’t romantic, but it’s not really platonic either — or at least not how everyone else would define it — and it’s as much familial as it isn’t. She’s not sure there’s a word for it, just like there probably isn’t a word yet for the way she and Steve don’t feel either.
It’s probably not safe and it’s probably not possible, but Robin finds herself still wanting to try anyway. Gareth and Vickie are actually her friends, somehow, and she wants them to understand.
“It’s simple, but it’s also complicated,” she says quietly, staring down at her hands. “Can we do this somewhere other than the band room?”
Gareth stares at her for a moment like he’s trying to figure her out. “We have Hellfire after school today so the room should be empty right now, does that work?”
It turns out it does. It’s only a few doors down, and relatively soundproofed. It’s a bit weirdly decorated, sure, and it looks kind of odd with all the lights on, but what the hell, it adds ambience.
She pulls out one of the folding chairs at the end of the table — all three of them ignoring the giant throne — and makes herself comfortable. Gareth and Vickie sit next to her, forming a sort of semicircle-turned-triangle.
“Okay, so,” Robin starts. Stops. “I’m not sure how to explain this. Steve and I, we’re not romantic — I told you that already, and I meant it. But it’s also kind of the closest equivalent? It’s like—” She puts her head in her hands, groaning. “Oh, I’m explaining this so badly.”
“Just keep going,” Vickie says. “Say what you can, and I’ll do my best to understand it.”
“I’m used to weird shit,” Gareth shrugs.
Robin has great friends. Irritating, but great.
“Alright, okay. Trying again.” She taps her fingers on the table in a nervous pattern. “Steve and I are soulmates, and not like in a cheesy teen movie way,” she says when Gareth threatens to roll his eyes, “I mean like, I’m him, and he’s me, you know? We’re the same, but also separate. Not two halves of the same whole, but like… two items in the same set. Twins. We aren’t dating, or in love, or having sex, or anything like that, but we aren’t really friends either. At least, not the way I’m friends with the two of you. I don’t know what to call it.”
She stole a little but from Steve’s speech to Nancy when they were first figuring it out, but it’s still kind if the only way she knows how to describe it. With Steve she can just say anything and he’ll understand — everyone else is complicated.
“Okay,” Gareth says slowly, nodding a bit like that’ll help him understand, “so what happens if you end up liking someone else?”
“There’s never going to be anyone else,” Robin snaps before she can think it through, and then blanches when she realizes what she said.
“…What?”
Robin presses her lips together until they sting. She shouldn’t have said anything, it was stupid to try and explain.
“Robin, we aren’t gonna judge you,” Vickie says softly. Her hands are clasped tight in front of her and there’s something in her face that makes Robin think she might’ve had a chance after all, in a world where she really was a lesbian. Some kindred feeling calling out to her, dread recognizing dread but also relief recognizing relief.
“I don’t feel it,” she blurts out, staring at Vickie whose eyes go wide. “Liking someone. I never have. I thought I did, but it turns out it was never, like, about me, which seems to be the important part. But even if I did, Steve is different.”
“Never?” Gareth asks incredulously. “You’ve never even had, like, a crush? Nothing?”
Robin shakes her head. “Trust me, I checked.”
“Huh,” he says, and then stares off in the distance. Vickie clenches her fists again.
“I like both,” she whispers, so quietly Robin can barely hear her. Robin sits up straight, beyond excited, and then realizes she has no idea how to respond.
“Uh, high five?” She holds her hand up, certain her face is doing something incredibly stupid.
Vickie takes one look at her and bursts out laughing.
Gareth finally goes back to the Hellfire table for lunch. He slinks over with his head down like a guilty dog but Munson barely twitches, too busy staring off into space with a thoughtful frown. Or maybe just a regular frown, it’s not like Robin would be able to tell the difference.
She’s still a little giddy from their earlier conversation, but that feeling mostly gets popped like the giant red and pink heart-shaped balloons she’s visually assaulted with the second she enters the cafeteria. The whole place looks awful — red, white, and pink streamers taped haphazardly to the walls and windows; balloons floating everywhere, eagerly trapped and popped by the room full of bored high-schoolers; confetti all over the floor. Robin has to take a moment to take it all in, stopped in her tracks with disgust. Vickie steers her further into the room.
“Come on, we have to at least say hi to Chrissy.”
Vickie’s right, of course, so Robin reluctantly follows her lead. Chrissy’s sitting with the other cheerleaders, chatting happily with a single rose held in her hands. Her smile’s a little dimmer than it was before yesterday’s catastrophe, but not enough to be concerning. She looks good.
“Robin!” Chrissy waves her over, visibly brightening. It does something to Robin’s heart to see someone other than Steve looking that excited to see her.
She takes the open seat beside Chrissy again, returning her smile.
“How are you, after yesterday?” she asks quietly. Chrissy’s face softens.
“I’m doing better now, thank you,” she says, matching Robin’s tone. “Jason apologized for getting upset, and we talked it through together. We’ve got another date tonight — a redo, though hopefully with less bowling.”
She laughs, and Robin finds herself genuinely hoping they work it out. She might not give two shits about Jason Carver, but Chrissy clearly does and Robin wants her to be happy.
“Don’t be afraid to make him grovel a bit,” Robin says sagely, and Chrissy laughs again, clear and bright.
Maybe Valentine’s isn’t a total lost cause.
Steve meets her in the parking lot after school with flowers.
“You didn’t,” she breathes, stunned despite herself.
Steve grins, offering her the bouquet — a large, sweet thing filled with tulips, white lilies, and a few other flowers Robin doesn’t know the names of. No roses, and that’s what makes Robin tear up, more than anything. This isn’t a bouquet for their little ruse, or for their audience — these flowers are for her.
“Steve.” Her voice cracks, and he pulls her close to plant a kiss on her hairline.
“I asked Nancy to pick up the kids today,” he says casually, like it’s no big deal. Like he doesn’t get anxious when he knows they’re running around without him.
“Oh my god, you—” They’re almost the same height but she still has to yank him down so she can kiss him square on the forehead.
He freezes for a moment, wide-eyed and looking like his brain is full of nothing but radio static. Then he smiles, like the sun breaking through the clouds.
“Let’s go,” she says, and he laughs. “Right now. This is so embarrassing, everyone’s looking at us.”
“They’ve been looking at us all week,” Steve says fondly. He rests his arm on the roof of the car, watching Robin vibrate in place. Her face is bright red, she can feel it.
Against her will, she glances over at the group of cheerleaders standing beside the front doors. Lori gives her a thumbs up.
“Oh my god.”
Robin skitters around the front of the car, fumbling with the passenger door.
“Get in the car,” she hisses. Steve waves at the cheerleaders. They wave back.
“Steve!”
He laughs, then gets in the car.
Their date is perfect. Of course it is, Steve ‘lists’ Harrington had the whole thing planned out from start to finish. The flowers, their outfits, dinner at Robin’s favourite restaurant — even though it has the opposite of a romantic atmosphere, which she supposes is kind of what they were aiming for anyways so even that works out perfectly.
Now they’re back at Steve’s for the end of the ‘date’ — curling up on the couch with a movie the way they always do. It’s so— it’s indescribable. It feels like they’re playing a prank, like the two of them are acting out an elaborate inside joke. Just Steve and Robin against the world, having the time of their lives breaking rules that no one else even knows they’re breaking.
She was expecting it to feel a little weird — they’re literally on a date for god’s sake — but somehow it doesn’t. Instead they’re just having the funniest night ever.
Robin tumbles after Steve into the kitchen, snickering the whole way.
“You really don’t know how to accept when you’ve lost, do you?” She teases, propping her elbows on the counter.
Steve shoots her a dry look, grabbing something out of the fridge. “I’m just saying, if we watch them back to back then we’ll know for sure which one is better.”
Robin scoffs, “We already know which one is better, dingus.”
“Alien isn’t automatically better than The Thing just because Ripley is there, and if you watch them back to back like I suggested you’ll see that,” he argues, one hand automatically going to his hip.
“Of course not,” Robin sniffs, “it also has better monsters.”
Steve scoffs, loudly. “I could fight those things easily, the demogorgon—”
He’s cut off by a knock on the door.
“Uh,” Robin says, stretching to try and see out the kitchen window, “are we expecting someone?”
“No,” Steve says with a frown. Whoever it is knocks again, a little more urgently. “I should get my bat.”
“Are you sure that’s—”
“Steve?” Chrissy’s voice floats faintly through the front door. “Robin? Is anyone— is anyone there?”
They both scramble for the door, swinging it open to see Chrissy’s tear-streaked face.
“Oh god, Chrissy,” Robin breathes, pulling her into a hug without thinking. It’s a little awkward, especially once she registers what she just did, but Chrissy burrows her face in Robin’s shoulder anyway.
Robin gives Steve a panicked look over Chrissy’s head. What the hell is she supposed to do here? Steve’s the hugger out of the two of them, and even he’s not all that touchy with anyone except Robin. Steve motions towards the living room and then disappears back into the kitchen. What the hell.
“I’m sorry,” Chrissy says once Robin starts steering them down the hall to the living room. She lets go of Robin, wiping at her eyes. It has to sting at least a little bit because her makeup’s smeared all over like a raccoon.
“I don’t know why I came here,” she says quietly, fidgeting with the cuffs of her sweater. “I just— I broke up with Jason, and my first thought was… here.”
“What happened?” Robin asks. They’d been fine earlier, Chrissy had literally told her Jason apologized and they were working through it! Maybe she really will have to ask Nancy to shoot him after all.
Chrissy covers her face with her hands. “I don’t know! I thought we were fine, but he was still upset. He said you two are a— a bad influence, but he couldn’t explain what he meant when I asked. He was just— he was so rude, and demanding, and he didn’t listen to anything I said.”
She looks up at Robin, glaring with tears trembling at the corners of her eyes. “He said he thought he’d be enough to fix me! Who says that?”
“Fix you?” Steve gives her an incredulous look, a covered plate in his hands. “Fix what? There’s nothing wrong with you!”
“Right?” Chrissy demands. “All I said was that I’d never had that much fun on a date before, but then he was like ‘I noticed’ and said… that.”
“What the fuck,” Robin says, starting to pace in agitation. “What the hell is his problem?”
She looks over at Steve, sure she’ll see her anger echoed back in his eyes, but instead he’s staring at Chrissy like he’s never seen her before.
“Steve?” she asks carefully, stepping towards him. Chrissy looks at him too, curious. He shakes himself a bit, holding up the covered plate.
“Let’s, uh. Let’s go sit down.” He gestures to the conversation pit, where they’re still set up for movie night with the extra mattress shoved on the floor between all the couch cushions. They’d just gotten the blankets and extra pillows tucked in before going to grab tonight’s secret dessert.
The title screen for The Thing is still paused, flickering quietly on the TV. Robin decides to leave it on — turning it off now would leave the room feeling serious and empty. She toes off her slippers and tumbles herself right over the edge of the pit, rolling comfortably into her little nook of pillows and cushions. Chrissy hesitates for a moment, then climbs in after her.
Steve places the plate on the floor outside the pit, since the coffee table’s been shunned to the back corner of the room. He takes the lid off and Robin gasps.
“You didn’t,” she says, staring at the little pile of handmade profiteroles like a starved wolf at a deer. “Steve!”
“They’re your favourite, of course I did,” Steve says, placing one in her hand like a treasure. He offers the plate to Chrissy. “Want one?”
“You’re getting the best birthday party in the world this year, whether you like it or not,” Robin warns before popping the cream puff in her mouth. It tastes heavenly. Of course it does.
Chrissy stares at the plate for a long moment, then, with an expression of determined defiance, snatches a profiterole and shoves the whole thing in her mouth at once. Her eyes go wide and she sags back against the cushions in wonderment.
“So,” Steve says, tapping his fingers nervously on the back of the couch. “I might be, like, way off, but can I ask you a question?”
Chrissy tenses up the slightest bit, but she nods.
Steve clears his throat. “Okay, great. Can you— do you—. How would you describe a crush?”
Robin’s eyes go wide and she sits straight up. Oh.
Chrissy frowns with a little confused laugh, “What?”
“Like…” he trails off. “This was so much easier when Nancy was here. When you get a crush, how do you know? Humour me, please.”
“Um.” Chrissy brings her knees up to her chest, brow furrowed in thought. “I guess I just know? Like, um. You know when you look at someone and they’re handsome, so you feel nervous and you want them to like you? Like that, I guess.”
Oh. That— that really sounds like what Steve was saying back in August. Robin trades a wide-eyed glance with Steve.
“Okay, and,” Robin continues, suddenly very nervous, “and the dates, you said bowling with us was the most fun you’d had?”
“Well, yeah,” Chrissy says, resting her cheek on her knees. “Whenever Jason took me out it always felt… stiff, like I had to be on my best behaviour until the date was over and we could be normal again. I didn’t know you could… go off script, I guess.”
“Oh,” Robin says, out loud this time.
Chrissy’s face scrunches up in distress, “Why? Is that not normal? Was Jason right when he said I’m broken?”
“No!” Robin rushes to assure her, patting awkwardly at Chrissy’s shoulder. “I mean, yes, kinda, but no! You’re not broken, I just” —she trades another look with Steve— “I think you might be like us.”
Chrissy stares at them, looking lost.
“It’s, uh,” Robin fumbles. Somehow this conversation isn’t any easier the second time. “Steve and I aren’t dating. We’re— you know how people can be heterosexual or homosexual? We’re, like, not-sexual. I guess. I thought liking someone was just thinking they’re hot, and Steve had, like, a list.”
“Liking how they look, getting nervous butterflies, wanting them to like me, and thinking about them a lot,” Steve supplies helpfully. “Not necessarily all at once, but enough of them. Apparently you’re not supposed to base everything off your favourite rom-coms.”
“Yeah, and dating isn’t supposed to feel like acting either. It’s supposed to be like hanging out with a friend, except romantically I guess. Jonathan wasn’t exactly clear on that.”
“He was pretty clear,” Steve argues, “we just didn’t understand because it doesn’t make sense.”
“He was clear but it also doesn’t make sense,” Robin repeats flatly, raising an eyebrow at him.
“You know what I meant.”
“You can do that?” Chrissy asks hesitantly, staring at them with something like hope in her eyes. “Not like people, I mean.”
Robin shrugs a shoulder, fiddling with her hands. “Yeah? I mean, why not?”
“Why not,” Chrissy echoes. She bursts into tears.
“Oh fuck,” Steve blurts, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders. Robin panics and starts petting Chrissy’s hair like that’ll help.
“Happy tears,” Chrissy reassures them between sobs. “I didn’t know— I thought he was right.”
“No,” Steve says firmly. “He was wrong. You’re not broken, you don’t need to be fixed, and you’re not alone.”
They both wrap Chrissy in a tight hug, almost smothered in pillows and blankets, as she cries heavy, cathartic sobs. When her tears dry up Steve sneaks out to grab Robin’s makeup wipes so she can clean up her face.
They finish up all the profiteroles during the movies — Chrissy insisted that if they were gonna let her stay then she shouldn’t derail their whole evening — and eventually settle on Alien being the better movie, with Chrissy as the tiebreaker vote. Steve threatens to bring a The Thing fan to their next movie night to even it out again, and Robin can’t resist bullying him a bit by asking him where he’d even find one.
Later, when Chrissy’s asleep, Steve sneaks off again and comes back with a small pair of boxes. They’re both the same shape as a ring box, just a little bigger, and Robin’s breath catches in her throat as she goes to open hers.
She cracks the lid carefully and then gasps, holding back tears for the third time that day. Sitting delicately inside the box is a silver charm bracelet with a single charm — a bright red mitt.
“Steve,” she breathes, and then bursts into tears when he opens his box to reveal a matching bracelet and charm.
“I was whole before I met you, and I’ll be whole after you’re gone,” he recites, looking at her with so much love that it makes her heart ache, “but you’re a fundamental part of me and I don’t make sense without you.”
“Just like the mitts,” she sobs into his shoulder, because he remembered. He remembered her stupid 4am rant about the pair of mitts she found in his attic almost word for word, and he thought it was important enough to get them matching reminders. So that every time she moves her wrist she’ll feel it shift, or hear it jingle, or see the bright flash of red, and remember how much they mean to each other.
“Yeah,” Steve says, holding her tightly. She can hear the grin in his voice. “Soulmitts.”
“Oh that was awful,” she laughs, pushing him away. “Some of your worst work.”
“Only for you,” he teases, fastening the bracelet around her wrist. “Love you, Rob.”
“Love you too, Stevie.”
Despite all the chaos, this is — without a doubt — the best Valentine’s Day she’s ever had.
[Fin.]
#aro stobin cinematic universe#envy writes#stranger things#the greatest qpr hawkins has ever seen#robin buckley#steve harrington#stranger things fic#stobin fanfic#aromantic
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Tw: Swearing, Caps
Jesus Christ there is so many anti-endo system blogs, like wtf? Oh I'm so sorry some people are different then you, and the people who are anti-endo USE THE FUCKING ":3" LIKE WTF YOU'RE NOT "CUTE" FOR BEING AN ANTI WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK (the person who did this literally made an account specifically for "venting" about endos like bro get a life)
I'm so pissed, if any endo sees an anti-endo "system confessions" or "system____" and want to actually participate, I'll make a blog for it, because Jesus Christ wtf is wrong with people
And you know if you told someone who was anti-endo "oh you're just traumatized and want to feel special" they'd have a hissy fit
Like can't we all just support each other? Jeez
(uh idk if Yuuko was gonna end it here but they kinda pushed me to the front- so yeah um whatever they said 👍 -💿)
(I hope I tagged it appropriately -💿)
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New SGA kinkfic started... There's a deeper reason behind John's falling out with his family when he was younger.
Content warnings for the fic as a whole: Underage (teenage John); eventual angst along with the fun smut; heteronormativity and homophobia; plus dysfunctional family shit. Oh. uh, right. And all the sibling incest 😅 Full tags on AO3, teaser below the cut xx
Chapter 1: Like old times
It starts when Dave’s eighteen, during his first year at college.
He’s home during the first term break, and he’s been a little nervous coming back. He and John have always been close despite the few years’ difference between them, and Dave has found himself, quite privately, slightly worried that him being away like this will somehow… change things between him and his younger brother. Even though he hasn’t really been gone all that long.
But it doesn’t change anything. To Dave’s quiet relief, he and John are right back to being inseparable almost from the moment he walks in the front doors. More so, even, than before Dave had left; as though they’re making up for the lost time apart.
It’s not a long break, and aside from the expected parental interrogation about the school term and being expected to show up for dinner every night— appropriately dressed, of course, and on time— Dave and John are mostly left to their own devices.
Just like old times.
It’s familiar, comforting, and eases a little tension Dave doesn’t really realize he’s carrying until it lifts. Not that his first semester at college is going badly. He’s near the top of his class, he’s got the build and the upbringing to excel at pretty much any sport he chooses, and… people like him there. He’s not the rich kid anymore; he’s just one more rich kid instead.
People like him, and more importantly, girls like him.
John wants to hear everything Dave will tell him about college outside of class. He’s not worried about the classes themselves; Dave didn’t expect he would be. John’s even smarter than he is and they both know it, even if John does like playing dumb most of the time for some unfathomable reason. The whole thing is going to be a breeze for him once he gets there. Unfairly so; or at least, Dave would be more than a little envious if it were anyone but his little brother. John is just… too damn likable to get annoyed at for something like that.
What John really wants to know about, what makes him perk up and listen intently and ask a thousand questions, is what Dave gets to do with his free time away from all the stifling rules and constant oversight of living at home.
“They’re pretty fucking great,” Dave tells him, the day after getting back. They’re out away from the house, back behind the old, unused stables up the hill so Dave can sneak a cigarette before supper without any real risk of getting caught, and John’s just asked him about the parties.
“Yeah?” John asks, and Dave nods, watching the sun drop towards the horizon.
“Oh, yeah. Booze, weed. Sex,” he adds, pretending it’s an afterthought, like he’s not bragging about it even though he knows he absolutely is.
“D’you get laid a lot?” John’s turned towards him now, still leaning against the stable wall. There’s a real bite in the air tonight, though not quite enough for their breath to hang in the air.
Dave takes a last, long drag of his cigarette before dropping the butt and grinding it into the dirt with his heel to hide it. “C’mon man, what d’you think? Of course I get laid a lot,” he says, and shoots his brother a broad, cocky grin, spreading his arms wide. “Just look at me.”
#john sheppard#dave sheppard#stargate atlantis#(kink)#smut#in/cest#i.e. the more traditional kind of shepcest#chaosfic
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Hi! I don't use this blog!
In fact, it took me 20 minutes to even figure out how to log in! I only remembered it's existance because some bot sent me an ask and it pinged the email I have to use for medical stuff- but i'll give the like. 6 people here, plus anyone who's scrolling through the blog for archival reasons, a quick update on myself and my life, because boy! was i wrong! and being told incorrect information!
So a lot of posts on here are tagged schizophrenia - a diagnosis that several of my doctors very well believed I had. Turns out, if you have been severely and repetitively traumatized for most of your childhood, your brain kinda. puts up walls and is functionally completely disconnected. and when you're a teenager and your brain is supposed to be growing neural connections between itself as it takes on its final leg of the growing journey, if there's Walls in the Way, it results in a degree of weird faux-hallucinations and outrageously unreal beliefs, the latter mostly from you trying to come to a rational conclusion for why you get told weird uncomfortable stories about yourself and are wildly unsure what the fuck they did to you in the hospital to fuck your memory like this. And the answer is nothing, you were in there for 3 days and just cried the whole time, the reason youre missing three weeks is, well. because you have DID. And apparently my therapist had been suspecting this since I was referred to him in the first place, since I was way too lucid and with it to actually be schizophrenic, but my former psych is also his bestie and had told him straight up "oh yeah, I know they were a conflict of interest, but. Its not every day you hear about the kinds of things this kid goes through, find out theyre true, but they only remember some of them at wildly different times, and then get to see DID form before your very eyes." and so on 2/22/22 I was handed my official paperwork because my team was like "i think we need to address some things." and uh. Yeah it came like a wet fish to the face. Turns out Antipsychs were causing half my balance and mood problems AND didnt get rid of the hallucinations because oops, thats not how that kind of 'hallucinating' works! that's the rest of your brain screaming for help! I don't really. publically say much about the kinds of problems my other parts cause for me. its not anyone elses business! you don't need to know! because all of me is Winnie! Regardless of how I choose to spell that or shorten it at any given time! (which is also not a parts thing, thats just a 'my name is hardly as important to me over who i am as a person' thing.) and yeah, I do have to own up to Dumb Shit(tm) the my other parts do regardless of the fact of if I remember doing it or not, because at the end of the day, I, as a singular human being, still did that thing!! I've kinda had to learn what's wrong and right, appropriate and innapropriate, and attone for such. People get very upset with me for referring to my parts as just that-parts. Lots of folk think that I should be calling them "alters", but that simply doesnt fit, for me. It makes the parts of me that are very clearly broken feel more separate, more defined-- which is the exact opposite of what I want. I WANT to be NORMAL. This disease is life ruining. I'm spending most of my adult life being up the shattered pottery that is my childhood- I don't want to be defined as pieces of a broken vase. I am defined as the Vase itself, wether or not you like the kintsugi is a You Problem. this is not your illness; (nor your version of the illness, if you, too, have it, as no two 'vases' break the same.) I personally refuse to not acknowledge the whole vase on any person who does have it. you dont throw away any pieces. that's not how this works. your arent 4 separate people jsut because you dont want to be associated with yourself. you break and mend and break and mend and cry and scream and accept and forgive and hurt and forgive again and become whole. To do anything else rejects your function as exactly what you are- perfectly human, an animal with neatly clipped claws and blunt teeth and marked skin and stands upright on its hind legs, defined only by its ability to create a taxonic system that cleanly defines it and then outwardly reject that very same label.
tumblr has a character limit, part 2 soon.
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im endlessly confused by ppl who call themselves "gender abolitionists" yet are obsessed with clocking ppl as "male" or "female" and subsequently enforcing traditional gender roles and stereotypes upon them. make it make sense
#uh oh its discourse o clock!!! lock ur doors hide ur children#im just absolutely fed up w the state of gender politics on this website#its not even something i actively keep up with. its just gotten to the point where its literally inescapable#tired of being viewed as weak and vulnerable prey because of the way i was born#by people who consider this school of thought to be somehow progressive no less#get a fucking grip. ur actively perpetuating and borderline worshipping the stereotypes u claim to hate so much#im just so tired. one of the few good things about instagram is that theres almost nobody who thinks that way on there#i suppose it was a necessary wakeup call though#these ppl are literally EVERYWHERE & i didnt even realize it until i started using tumblr again#discourse //#discourse#lol im assuming some ppl dont wanna see discourse on their dash so im trying to tag this appropriately 😭#will most likely delete this very soon. i have strong opinions but i absolutely abhor getting into arguments
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now im not saying people are wrong but there is something highly concerning and very uncomfortable when people ship characters who are predominantly thought of as brothers in fandom
#shut up danni#not to throw any rocks bc it's not technically canon but like#when people ship k//eith and sh/iro from voltron together??????#yeah#that's uh#that's questionable for three reasons:#1 - shiro is canonically 25 and keith is canonically 17 meaning there is an 8 year age difference and keith is a minor#2 - the fandom largely considers them brothers which SHOULD have been canon if the writers weren't cowards#3 - they....have. a mentor/student dynamic. which means. not. shipping. material.#it just creeps me the fuck out and i have multiple things preventing me from seeing it on ao3 but still....yikes#the reminder makes me a little sick when i think about it#anyways i heard that if you swear in the tags you won't come up on search and since i don't wanna start any shit#fuck#....do you think that's enough or???#oops i censored their names once and forgot to the rest of the times oh well#i mean i won't think of people as the ultimate scum of the earth for writing fluffy romo stuff but i will deffo side eye and stay away#pls keep away from me and tag that shit appropriately
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uh... tuesday? - jamie drysdale
request: could you do a jamie drysdale fic where they get into an argument, and jamie says stuff he doesn’t mean, but then at the very end they apologize and it’s like fluff
requested by: anon : )
notes: not sure how much i like the ending, but the rest of it was fun! thanks for requesting <3
tags: @woodruff-edwards , @austinbutlerscaresme , @zegras2crosby , @l0veforhugh3s <3 || join my taglist!
gif not mine!
you tapped your foot nervously.
it was nearly eight o’clock, and you and jamie had agreed to meet here at seven. although the place wasn’t too fancy, it was fancy enough that people began to notice you waiting on someone.
“ma’am, are you still ordering?” the waitress came back for the fifth time.
you sighed, finally admitting to yourself that jamie wasn’t going to show. “i’ll just take some of the chocolate cake.”
the waitress’ eyes softened marginally, and she nodded, bringing your cake back quickly.
you ate numbly, wondering why the hell jamie had been so adamant on a date today. it was your two-year anniversary, but you were alright celebrating later on in the week. the ducks had just come back from a long and sad road trip yesterday, and you wanted jamie to be rested and happy for your small celebration. he disagreed, saying he wanted to do it on the day. you gave in, mainly because he seemed so excited about something for the first time in a long time.
i shouldn’t have agreed, you thought to yourself as you made your way into the car. if you hadn’t agreed, you wouldn’t have been embarrassed in front of so many people.
you made your way to your apartment, locking the door behind you. jamie was nowhere to be found. you opened your phone, scrolling through a wave of unanswered texts to jamie from your end.
annoyed and angry, you slipped out of your dress, scrubbing your makeup off and changing into your pajamas. you climbed into bed early, still no answer from jamie.
it must’ve been around midnight when you felt the bed dip, rousing you.
you lifted your head, being shushed by jamie as he apologized loudly for waking you up. you ignored him, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. turning the lamp on, you blinked at jamie’s dishevelled appearance.
he smelt like alcohol.
while you’d been stood up by your boyfriend on your anniversary (because he wanted to do it the day of), he’d been out drinking.
“where have you been?” you asked, barely trying to keep your voice down.
“out with the guys,” he merely answered. he wasn’t drunk yet, but he smelled strongly of alcohol.
“do you know what last night was?” you asked, crossing your arms. you’d cooled off as you slept, but jamie’s nonchalant attitude was starting to get you mad and annoyed all over again.
“uh… tuesday?” he guessed.
“it was our anniversary,” you corrected him. “you’d told me to meet you at the restaurant at seven o’clock, remember?”
you watched jamie rack his messy thoughts, trying to remember. his eyes widened briefly as he realized what you were talking about.
“oh right!” he snapped his fingers. he began to pull the blanket over himself, “that was last night? i forgot.”
outraged, you pulled the blanket back.
“it was your idea!” you yelled.
“what the fuck, y/n?!” he was shouting too now. “it’s a stupid mistake, who cares? we can go tomorrow.”
“that was what i had planned out,” you reminded him. “but then you decided no, let’s go out on the day of our anniversary. this was your idea,” you jammed your finger in his chest. “the least you could do is be there for it.”
“great, i’m the bad guy,” he rolled his eyes. “you’re just overreacting. let’s talk about this in the morning.”
you scoffed as jamie turned his back on you, pulling the blanket over himself.
you felt like the reaction you’d had was very appropriate. not only did he forget, you were embarrassed in front of a group of people. sure, you’d never see them again, but it wasn’t good for your come-and-go confidence.
grabbing your pillow, you yanked the blanket off of jamie as you got off the bed.
“holy shit, y/n! i thought we said we’ll talk about it tomorrow?!” he sat up, reaching for the blanket. he blinked twice at the sight of you leaving the room with the blanket and your pillow.
“y/n?” he called. “y/n? where are you going?”
you didn’t answer, setting your pillow and blanket on the couch. you’d just gotten settled when the blanket was yanked off of you.
“what do you want, jamie?” you groaned, reaching for the blanket.
“why are you sleeping here?” he asked.
“i don’t want to sleep in the same bed as you right now,” you answered. “i’m mad and annoyed, and i might do something stupid.”
“like smother me in my sleep?” he furrowed his brows.
you almost laughed out loud, freezing when you remembered you were supposed to be mad at him.
“maybe,” you answered instead.
jamie studied you for a second, the realization that this was something you weren’t happy about, finally making its way to his slow brain.
“go sleep on the bed,” he said finally, nudging you.
“huh?”
“i’ll take the couch. you go sleep on the bed,” he told you.
you appreciated the concern, but shook your head anyways. sure you were a little stubborn, but he deserved this. “i don’t want to. now give me the blanket back.”
jamie sighed, deciding you weren’t going to give in. he climbed on top of you, throwing the blanket over you two.
“jamie!” you yelled, swatting him as he tried to fit the two of you on the couch.
you ended up lying on top of him more than the sofa. you were tired and cold, and jamie was warm and for that moment, all the anger you felt disappeared.
“i’m sorry,” he whispered, running his fingers through your hair. “i’m an idiot, who should know better than to try and plan something. you weren’t overreacting.”
“i was a little,” you admitted softly.
jamie laughed, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with you.
“i’m sorry too,” you told him. “for stealing the blanket from you.”
“it’s okay,” he grinned, the two of your laughter echoing through the walls of your home.
#jamie drysdale#jamie drysdale oneshot#jamie drysdale one shot#jamie drysdale imagine#jamie drysdale blurb#jamie drysdale imagines#jamie drysdale blurbs#jamie drysdale x reader#jamie drysdale fic#jamie drysdale oneshots#anaheim duck blurb#anaheim ducks imagine#anaheim ducks fic#anaheim ducks#anaheim ducks imagines#anaheim ducks x reader#nhl fic#nhl imagine#nhl blurb#nhl#nhl x reader#hockey fic#hockey x reader#hockey#hockey imagine#naqia writes!
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🥺🥺 I need more sub Chris thots for ghosted 👁 see those tags 🫠🫠 srsly tho only if you have time 👉🏻👈🏻
related to this and the tags on this post
I don't really have the time but I have to get these thoughts outta my head lmao so, yes, subby Chris/Cole (Chris' character's name) and domme Ana/Sadie (the name of the character Ana is playing)--
He 100% makes tiny little sounds every time she shoves him around. When he's manhandled he can't help but gasp and whine and make other breathless noises. It's NOT an appropriate moment for him to pop a boner, being pressed into a wall or the ground or whatever while in real life, actual, non-joke danger but he can't really help it. It just happens 😳
(He also makes sounds when she tries to clean him up after they're out of danger. The rubbing alcohol stings! The bandages put pressure on his bruises and it hurts! His muscles ache! She threatens to hold him down if she has to because she's not letting him get infections later. She's also not gonna wait for him later if he's still tending his own wounds, unfamiliar with how to do it correctly and efficiently. He... uh... might have to take her up on the holding down thing.)
He's already so stupid... so, can you imagine how fucking stupid [affectionate] he becomes when he's turned on? Baby 👏🏻 is 👏🏻 fuck 👏🏻 dumb 👏🏻
I can so see him on top of her thrusting into her, basically just humping her while he's face first into her boobs as she grabs his hair tightly, telling him just how she wants to be fucked. He may be dumb but he knows how to use that fucking dick... or, he knows how to use it when she encourages him, he's kinda perfectly pathetic without direction 🥴
If she calls him a good, pretty boy while eating pussy and he will expire. No more thoughts, only horny. No higher functioning.
Speaking of him being pretty and thoughtless, I feel like he has such a huge praise kink but also a huge dumbification kink. He's so pretty and stupid. Simple and just good for giving her what she needs.
One time she ropes him into going with her on a low-stakes undercover mission... his only job is to look pretty as her *cough* arm candy *cough* "plus one" while she flirts and gains information from the high-class male partygoers. So, to keep him entertained, she puts his cock in a cage and keeps the key around her neck as part of her glamorous outfit. All night he loses focus every time he catches a glance at that key. He can feel his cock twitch in his slacks, trying and failing to get hard in the unforgiving cage. She... if he's lucky... might take him to the bathroom and put him on his knees for her, but there's no way he's getting out of that cage while they're on a mission. It's serious business.
Last thought: him getting pegged 🥴🥴 The first time she bottoms out inside him, he can't help but press back onto her strap, twisting the sheets in his fists, with his mouth falling wide open as he helplessly blurts out, "oh, g-god, it feels good!" And she can't help but laugh because, duh, it feels good. She's fucking him. That's the whole point. But, fuck, she loves it too. She loves making him even dumber than usual. She loves making his pretty face go entirely slack with pleasure, not a thought in sight.
So... yes. Subby Ghosted Chris.
Photo from @/thetrashstache because I wanted to see it again 👀
Did I probably way exaggerate his himbo-ness? Yeah. Am I sorry? No. I mean, come on, who doesn't love a pathetic little man? 😮💨😮💨
Thanks for the ask!
#asks#chris evans#ana de armas#ghosted#sadie#cole riggan#fandomfluffandfuck#sadie x cole#sadie rhodes x cole turner#sadie rhodes × cole riggan#cole turner#sadie rhodes#cole
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For Finnie500 (CONGRATS!!) Gotham Riddler ✨️💙🟣
Awkward
gotham!riddler x gn!reader/truth or dare ok omg dealer's choice! awkward eddie awkward eddie awkward eddie YUM minors DNI!! 🔞 500 words, cw: awkward flirting, dirty talk, some touching send me a request • kofi link • minors DNI • tag: finnie500

“Ok, come on, Ed! Truth or dare?”
You sat on the edge of the cabinets that lined the wall in the lab, kicking your legs out, trying your hardest to flirt with Edward Nygma, someone who was not only unreceptive to the flirting, but completely unaware that you were even trying to flirt with him in the first place, it seemed.
“Uh…I don’t want to answer any more questions about my personal habits, so I suppose I’ll opt for dare.”
“Perfect!”
“Oh dear.”
You thought for a moment, trying to think of what might bring him out of his shell, or shock him out of it.
“Give me an example of your best dirty talk.”
“I don’t have any…examples…of that.”
“Oh come on, Eddie! You’ve never said something a bit dirty in the moment?”
“Truthfully…” he cleared his throat, avoiding your gaze “…there hasn’t really been a…moment.”
“Oh!”
Perfect.
“Well, you can practice on me then, if you’d like?”
He kept his gaze down at his food, picking at what was left in the takeout container, pretending to be very invested in it and entirely uninterested in you, despite the obvious blush that spread over his sweet cheeks.
“I don’t know…how would I start?”
You shifted down from the cabinet, walking over to him and leaning against the table he was standing by.
“Pretend we’ve been on a date.”
“Ok.”
“And it’s gone very well.”
“Yep.”
“And we’re back at your place, things have gotten hot…and heavy…”
“How…how so?”
“We’re being…intimate.”
“Oh, my.”
You giggled, placing your hand over his.
“We’re in your bed, completely naked, and we’re…”
You paused, trying to think of a word that might be appropriate to use in front of him.
“We’re making love.”
“Uh-huh.”
His lips were pressed tight together.
“What would you say to me?”
He thought for a moment, stammering and stuttering.
“Come on, Eddie! Spit it out! Or is that what you’d say?”
You pulled at his tie bringing him in closer, giggling.
“Well…do you…um”
“Do I what?”
“Do you like it when I fuck you hard?”
He stunned both of you into silence. And when he finally digested what he had said, he quickly began uttering apologies.
“Don’t be sorry, Eddie. That was good! See, I figured you would be a natural.”
“A natural?”
You fiddled with the bottom of his tie, letting your fingers walk up the front of his shirt and gently tapping the tip of his nose. You could see his gaze wandering to the top of your shirt, to where the buttons were undone, offering a glimpse at your chest.
“My turn!”
“Um…is…is that my shirt you’re wearing?”
“It might be. I was looking around the locker room this morning.”
“Oh…my.”
“Truth or dare?”
“Truth, I think. Please.”
“Would you like your shirt back? Of course, I’d need to take it off then.”
You began unbuttoning it, exposing more of yourself to him. He fought to bring his eyes away, but couldn’t.
“Yes, I would very much appreciate that…I’d…like that.”
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