#so when i get new copies it's been long enough that i can start over from the beginning lmao. same strife with xxxh0lic
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
pyro-madder · 9 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
in honor of my sudden re-binging of TRC, i finally bring out an unposted quality archive from 2017
166 notes · View notes
reobsessed · 1 year ago
Text
Unfamiliar Waters
Tumblr media
Pairing: Tav X Astarion, Reader X Astarion. Gender neutral. Content: Bathing, kissing, hair washing, fluff, comfort, slight conflict that gets resolved immediately, no sex, minor mention of torture. 1500 Words. Summary: You were in dire need of a bath after a harrowing fight outside the inn you were staying at. Unfortunately you find the tub already occupied by Astarion. In an attempt to bond with and get him out of there, you offer to wash his hair. Another short Astarion fic I started a while ago. Wanted to do something fluffy and intimate without any sex. Thanks again to Suri for edits and help with lines and the title!
You flung open the wooden doors, uncaring as wood chipped against lavender painted walls. Just as you were halfway through discarding your shirt, an indignant cry caught you off guard.
“What in the sweet hells, do you mind?!” The towel and toiletries fell from your hands. You’d never been very perceptive and today was no exception. Already fully submerged in the tub was Astarion; chest bare slumped over the side, a dripping copy of the Baldur’s Mouth Gazette in hand.
“Astarion?! I haven’t seen you in hours, is this where you’ve been?” You spluttered. “We really could have used your help. There was a fight right outside the inn. There’s absolutely no way you didn’t hear the commotion.”
“Some of us take pride in our appearances and besides, I needed time away from that festering group of ingrates.” As if to emphasise his point he shuddered. “You know, you could all learn a lot from me, starting with regular bathing.”
“And how exactly are any of us meant to bathe when you’re in the bathroom four hours every day?”
“Oh I don’t know, Baldur’s Gate has plenty of scenic rivers and lakes. I’m sure the bear has no problem leading each of you to nature’s finest bathhouse.”
You rubbed your temples with a freehand. As much as you loved this man, he could really start to grate on your nerves after a while. You scooped up your belongings and made your way over to him, arranging your towel neatly on the floor beside you.
He looked up from the paper disinterestedly. “As much as I love your company, dear, I hope you’re not planning on joining me. I hardly think this,” he gestured disapprovingly at the tub, “can fit us both.”
“Astarion, if there’s anything I can do to cut this exceedingly long bath short, I would be more than happy to assist.”
His eyes widened momentarily. How stupid of you, you hadn’t considered the implications of what you’d said. 
“No, no, that's quite alright. I’ve still got my hair to wash and that’ll take at least another half an hour.”
Perching yourself on the edge of the tub beside him, you began rolling up your sleeves.
“Then allow me.” You smirked.
He flung the sodden paper to the floor and stared at you dumbfounded. “You mean you- wash my hair. I’m sitting here naked, dripping and gorgeous and all you want to do is ‘wash my hair’?”
“Couples do things for each other. Things outside of sex and combat, I might add,” you sniped back. Using your fingers, you began combing through his dampened locks.
“Without the sex, I suppose that leaves only the one thing we do together then.”
“That’s true.” His body tensed. “No, no wait- '' Flustered, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pressed your forehead against the back of his head. A feeble gesture, intended to soothe him and buy you enough time to explain.
“Just kidding,” you could hear the smirk in his voice, but you knew it wasn’t genuine.
“I like doing other things with you,” you mumbled into his curls. “I don’t care about the sex.” You relaxed your hold, allowing him to turn around to face you. Delicately, you reached out and wiped a stray piece of hair from his forehead. As you did so, his unnaturally pale cheeks took on a darker hue, perhaps from the heat or from your touch, you weren’t sure.
He cleared his throat and turned away again. “I see then. Well, this is as good a time as any to try something new.” 
“Really?!” your head perked up. “I’m so excited, haven’t washed anyone else's hair since I left home.” You began swirling a hand in the tepid water, carefully choosing a spot faraway from where Astarion sat. “Did you and your siblings ever do this for each other? Like my family did,” you asked without thinking.
He shot you an incredulous glare, which soon contorted into sarcastic glee. “Oh, of course we did! And then in between our torture sessions we’d paint each others’ nails! What good fun it was.” His smile dropped and he fell backwards into the bath, splashing you in the process.
You scratched the back of your head. “Sorry I-”
He waved his hand dismissively. “Leave it, my love. No use dwelling on all that now.” You nodded your head in agreement, not that he could see you. “Come now, we don’t have all day.” 
You hummed in agreement, looking over the various bottles that sat on a shelf beside the bath. Astarion was a very particular man and you didn’t wish to upset him by, god’s forbid, using the wrong fragrance. You gestured towards the selection of shampoo. “What’s your poison?”
“Hmm, I think today I‘m in the mood for jasmine- no wait- night orchid and ginseng- actually, that honey shampoo sounds positively delicious.”
“Might net you some unwanted attention from our camp bear,” you joked, hands sifting through the knots in his hair.
“Fair point. Alright then, I think I’d like to try that raspberry one, the one you got from that dear little market stall.” 
The same one you liked to use.
With a gentle firmness you cupped the sides of his head. You hoped it was enough to stop him from turning around and seeing the pure glee etched onto your face.
“Alright, I need to get it wet, lean back,” you instructed, as you scooped up a handful of water.
He did as he was told and reclined backwards, eyes closed and squinted, anticipating the stream of water. Doing this for your brothers and sisters had been easy. Hells, you could get away with lobbing them in the river and they’d be just fine. Astarion, on the other hand, required a more delicate touch (even if he’d never admit to it) and you were more than happy to cater towards him.
With slow precision you poured the cooling water over his scalp, immediately pushing back any stray drops that threatened to drip down into his eyes. 
Gods, how was it possible for such a man to be so beautiful and how was it that such a man had chosen you as his partner? Your hands stopped and your gaze lingered, as you took in his picturesque features.
An eyelash heavy with steam peeled open, giving you an inquisitive look.
“Enjoying the show, darling?” A thick, humid heat bloomed across your cheeks. “By all means, keep admiring me.”
“Shut up and close your eyes!” You grabbed the bottle from the side and began lathering it in your hands. The familiar fragrance filled your nostrils and despite having grown accustomed to having it as your own scent, you were looking forward to how it smelt on him.
You rubbed the foam through your fingers, fully enveloping his hair in a thick mousse. As your nails dragged across his scalp you heard him moan. 
“That feels positively wonderful.”
“Oh yeah, like this?” you asked, repeating the same motions as before. He mmm-ed softly, sinking further into your hold. You paused for a second, this might be the most satisfied sound you’d ever heard coming from his lips, not a bad thing of course, given his past experiences. 
His eyes were open again, staring up at you, face awash with bliss. 
“Itching for a taste are we?” he goaded lightly.
There was no use dignifying that with a response. You brought your lips down upon his, his head still clasped in your hands. It was brief and sweet, reminiscent of those first kisses you’d once shared with young lovers. Unthinkable that such innocent yearning could be reclaimed so late in life. 
Reluctantly you broke the kiss and pulled away.
“I do rather like that, you know…”
“I know and so do I.” You beamed. “Okay now can you please hurry up so I can have a bath,” you pleaded, peppering his mouth with more kisses.
“Always so demanding,” came his curt reply (the audacity). Nonetheless, he complied and finished up. 
A deep sigh of relief escaped your lips after finally lowering yourself into freshly ran water. About halfway through wetting your hair, a freezing pair of hands on your shoulders caught you off guard.
“Astarion!” you shrieked. The little rogue had snuck up behind you.
“Oh, do be quiet, and don’t splash me. Wouldn’t do to get me wet again.” You watched as he rifled through the shampoo bottles disapprovingly. “We must go to the market together again soon, darling, just the two of us. I know just the product that’s perfect for your hair type, might do something about that helmet musk too.”
You opted to ignore that last dig, instead choosing to relish in the satisfaction of a warm bath and your lover threading his fingers through your hair. “I’d like that,” you hummed happily. 
A contented silence descended over the room. You felt at peace and when you saw him hovering above you with that serene grin on his face, you knew he felt the same.
3K notes · View notes
fairyysoup · 10 months ago
Text
his hands
Tumblr media
pairing(s): hairdresser!eddie munson x fem!reader
summary: How do you make getting a haircut an erotic experience? You have Eddie Munson as your hairdresser, of course.
cw: explicit, smut, unprotected piv sex, mirror sex, workplace sex, hand kink, choking, dumbification, dom!eddie, touch-starved!reader, semi-sort-of subspace happenings, referring to genitals with gendered pronouns, slight body worship, getting weirdly horny over a head massage, sexual tension, negative self talk, hair cut/style mentioned but no description of hair color/type, the aftercare is the haircut lol, implied 90s au, eddie's like 30, reader's age unspecified, eddie is employee of the month in my heart, not proofread, no beta we die like men
a/n: this is weird. and came from an interesting experience i had at the hair salon. and yes that is corpse's hand in that pic i didn't want to spend all day looking for a header pic shut up shut up shut up
ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI
Tumblr media
Your hands twitch on the copy of Elle magazine in your lap. The familiar waiting area of your local salon has new furniture, which still smells a bit like the cellophane it came wrapped in, and hasn’t been worn out by patrons just yet. You’d asked for your usual stylist, Melissa. Except, you haven’t been here in so long, and apparently Melissa doesn’t work here anymore. 
“We have a new stylist in her place,” the greeter at the front desk told you kindly. “I could fit you in if you’d like that same station?” 
The station doesn’t matter to you; they all look the same and have the same tools. Obviously, when it comes to getting your hair cut, the stylist makes the difference. But, since you’re a couple months too late to catch up with Melissa, a new stylist is who you’ll be working with. 
The PA still plays some sort of weird pop-rock fusion that mixes Nat King Cole with Billy Idol, but you just try to focus on it to keep your leg from bouncing. You always get anxious like this when you come in for an appointment, even though you always tell yourself the same thing. It’s just hair. If you don’t like it, it’ll grow back. Or, if worst comes to worst, you could always shave it.
You hear your name being called, and you look up to the person who’d just approached the waiting area around the partition that blocks off the styling area. You blink, your mind going fuzzy as you try to make sense of what you see.
“Looks like I’ll be cutting your hair today,” the man standing at the end of the row of chairs says, with a grin that puts boyish dimples on his cheeks. “I’m Eddie.”
Eddie the Hairdresser is a bit more than you can handle right now. Between his long, curly hair, and the shirt he wears that gives you a view of the tattoos crawling up his arms, you think your knees might already be made out of jelly as you try to stand. But then he sticks out his hand for you to shake, and he’s wearing big, chunky rings that glint in the light, and you think you might swoon like a Victorian damsel.
“I’m, uh–” you begin intelligently, as you fit your hand into his big one. He squeezes just the tiniest bit and smirks at you. “I– I’m trying to, uh–”
“First time?” Eddie asks you with a tilt of his head. His brown eyes crease at the edges with mirth.
“Oh, um, no,” you mutter, looking everywhere but at his dimples. He has a tattoo on his neck of a dragon. You stare at it for a moment too long. “I used to come and see Melissa, forever ago.” 
“Oh! Yeah, Melissa was great. She trained me,” Eddie starts jabbering as he tilts his head and leads you around the partition. You’re met with the smell of hairspray and the sound of blow dryers getting louder. “She’s a hard act to follow, but I hope I can do well enough. Let’s get you started with a wash, hm?” 
You smile as he winks at you conspiratorially. You always feel a little bit awkward as you sit in the chair for the wash sinks, but Eddie ushers you into it with a little wave of his hand and gently– more gently than you can remember even Melissa being– lifts the ends of your hair and places a soft towel around your shoulders.
“What kept you away all this time?” Eddie asks pleasantly as he tests the water temperature. “Melissa’s been gone for a while.”
“Yeah, I, uh, I was working a lot,” you stumble into an explanation, your cheeks heating up a bit. It’s hard not to feel like you need to repent for not coming in to get a trim every month. “Last time I came in, I got my hair cut really short, so it wasn’t like I needed to come in for a trim for a long time, and by the time I really needed one it was long enough that I could do it myself… so, I just kept doing that.”
“So, what are we doing today?” Eddie inquires as his fingertips brush along your temples to tuck your hair back behind your ears and into the wash basin. With gentle prompting, he tilts your head back into the bin and begins to wet the ends of your hair.
“I figured it’s time I go short again,” you tell him, more confident than you really feel about it. It was a split second decision, one that you made because the reflection in the mirror was looking back at you with such a dead expression that you decided you needed a change in a bad way. For a lighter note, you supplement, “I’m tired of brushing tangles out of my hair every morning, and the other day I had a whole bird’s nest at the back of my neck, y’know.”
“Pssh, I know all about tangles. You saw my hair,” Eddie chuckles as the lukewarm water touches your scalp. Goosebumps rise on your arms while he rambles on, “I have to comb my hair wet or else I look like I got electrocuted. I never used to care about that sort of thing before I went to school for this, but once you start learning about proper treatment it’s kind of hard to ignore. I used to wash my hair with bar soap. Dry as hell, no conditioner. I’m surprised I got it long to begin with.” 
You find yourself smiling just thinking about it. “Bar soap? With those curls?”
“Don’t tell anyone, my reputation will be ruined,” Eddie leans down and whispers to you while he reaches for a bottle of shampoo. You hear a crack of a bottle cap, and then his hands are in your hair again, working the sweet smelling soap into your roots. “I’m trying to get employee of the month, but they’re never gonna give it to me if they know I used to sabotage my own hair with Irish Spring.”
“Your secret’s safe with me,” you tell him sweetly, but you’re barely paying attention to his words anymore. His fingers are pressing into areas on your head that haven’t had a proper massage in forever, and months of tension headaches are being brought to the forefront of your mind. 
You never consider how oddly intimate having someone wash your hair is until you’re in the thick of it. Eddie’s thumbs massage circles into your occipitals with just a perfect amount of pressure, and the muscles down the back of your neck slowly melt and relax, moving with the swell of his fingertips. You suddenly feel very relaxed and very sleepy, and your eyelids drift closed as Eddie’s thumbs trace the line of your skull up to your hairline.
It even takes a moment for you to tune into the fact that he’s humming. Under his breath, he’s singing along to the notes of the song on the PA. He’s doing it in such a way that you’re sure he’s not even aware of it, himself, and you’d comment on it if you weren’t afraid that you’d embarrass him. His fingers are massaging circles around your temples now, and while you’re trying to focus on the sound of him harmonizing with the music, your mind is again trying to distract you with the feeling developing at the base of your spine. A ticklish, warm feeling spreads between your hips, disrupting the lull you find yourself in and forcing you to blink your eyes open. 
Oh, no. We’re not doing that right now.
You can’t say you’re surprised that this is your response. His hands are all over your head and you haven’t been touched by anyone in… well, a very long time, to say the least. You’re probably a little starved for it, all things considered. But this is really the wrong time and place to be getting turned on by a guy’s touch.
You shift in your seat, trying not to be too obvious about it when Eddie pulls his hands away and begins rinsing your hair again. Crossing your legs would be a dead giveaway, but the warm feeling is turning into a subtle throb between your legs, and Eddie’s hands are back on your head, now gently combing the conditioner through the length of your hair as though he’s petting you.
After a few torturous minutes of trying to ignore the blooming arousal deep in your gut, Eddie cuts the water and wraps your hair in the towel to secure it. 
“Now comes the hard part,” Eddie says, probably not meaning to make it sound so suggestive, but your mind seems to be taking its sweet time loitering in the gutter. 
You stare dazedly up at the ceiling. Now is the hard part?
Eddie leads you to what used to be Melissa’s station, and swings the swivel chair around for you with a flourish. “Step into my office, sweetheart. I’ll get you all dressed up in a sexy robe and everything.” 
You stifle a giggle as you slide into the seat. His “office” is one table in a row of other tables, and two feet away an older woman is getting her hair bleached by a girl with an undercut. As Eddie spins you around, the stylist shoots him a look. 
“He’s a shameless flirt,” she tells you, making eye contact with you in the mirror. Eddie lays a smock across your front and buttons it at the back of your neck.
“I’ll have you know, I’ve been minding my manners very well,” Eddie huffs with feigned indignation as he unwraps your hair and tosses the towel onto the table in front of you. He still winks at you in the mirror when he leans around you to pick up a comb. “So far.”
You can’t help the way that your jaw clenches. He’s really not going to make this easy on you. You wonder if he knows where your mind has been for the last ten minutes.
Eddie moves around to the back of your chair and presses on a lever to raise it up, but nothing happens. 
“Dammit,” Eddie curses under his breath, and turns to his coworker, who’s still loading tinfoil into the woman’s hair until she looks like something from Close Encounters. “I can’t believe you gave me the crap chair.”
“Early birds get the good chairs,” the stylist replies. 
Eddie sighs and turns back to you, and finds you looking at him curiously in the mirror. “This is the only broken chair in the whole salon, and everyone hates it, so it tends to move around. You never know if you’ll get the crap chair.”
“That’s sabotage,” you giggle.
“I know! So I have to bend down to style you, I’m sorry.”
“I think I can handle it.” You watch him give you a look in the mirror that makes you shift in your seat again. 
“So,” he begins, looking down at your head as he begins detangling your hair. “We’re going short?”
“That’s the plan,” you say with a puff of your chest. Please, god, don’t let it be horrible. 
“How short?” he prompts, eyeing you in the mirror. “Shoulder length? Close cropped?”
You reach up a slightly shaky hand and pinch the length that you want between two fingers. “Here’s good.”
Eddie nods, looking somewhat pleased. “Are we doing layers?”
“Yeah, I think layers would be good for the long term.” 
“Gives you more flexibility,” he agrees. He picks up a pair of scissors and begins measuring out the length that you want. “I’ll start with the length and then we’ll move to bangs, all right?” 
“That… sounds good.” You’re temporarily discombobulated by Eddie taking the sides of your head and tilting your head down just the slightest bit. 
“Stay just like that for me, okay?” he says quietly.
You blink down at the table in front of you, feeling your mouth go dry. “No problem.” Your hands nervously twitch beneath the cover of the smock across your body.
He goes back to humming along with the music on the PA, and you don’t have the heart to interrupt him. You’re trying to focus on anything but the nerves in your system and the way his touch keeps making you want to jump out of your seat.
After a moment, he stops humming and dusts a bit of hair off of your shoulder. “There we go. Good girl.” 
You blink up at Eddie in the mirror, and then see the transformation from long hair to short on your head. 
“How does it feel?” Eddie asks, leaning down to pinch the ends of the front and measure the evenness of the length. You stare at his fingers, and the tattoo of a bat just above his thumb on his left hand.
“Ten pounds lighter,” you joke. It feels like you’ve swallowed a lump of hot coal, but he doesn’t need to know that. Eddie grins, and his dimples make a glorious reappearance. 
“I’m not done with you yet,” he murmurs, and again positions your head where he wants it, staring directly forward. “Honestly, even if you wanted to stop here, it would suit you. I don’t think there’s a way to make you look bad, sweetheart.”
“You’ve never seen me with a hangover,” you scoff, trying to ignore how your heart skips a beat. 
Eddie smirks at you in the mirror while he starts working on giving your hair layers. “My guess is that you still look just as cute, but with a bit more of a grumpy look around here.” He gestures to your brow with one finger, and reaches over to set aside the texturizing scissors. 
“So, what I’m hearing is, you think I’m cute?” you say, still trying to play up the confidence that you don’t really have. Your hand squeezes your thigh under the smock you wear, your nails digging in for purchase.
“No, I think you’re gorgeous,” Eddie says swiftly, like it’s just a matter of fact. “But, I think you’d also be cute when you’re hungover. Plus, with this hair, you’d probably look all unkempt and I love the mental image that’s creating.”
His hands fluff the layers that he’s put into your hair, ruffling them gently and carding his fingers through them to measure their length. You’re sure that he’s not aware of the moon-eyed look you’re giving him in the mirror. 
Except, then he moves around you to start working on your bangs, and the smirk that comes across his face when he looks down at yours is enough to make you lose your composure. He knows everything that’s going on in your head, you’re sure of it. 
Cocky bastard.  
“I like your tattoos,” you murmur, just loud enough for him to hear over the music and the sounds of blow dryers all around you. He’s face to face with you, so close that you can count the freckles on his pale face.
Eddie’s eyes light up. “Yeah? What about ‘em?” 
“Well,” you lick your lips, your eyes flicking down to the one on his neck, and the one peeking out of his collar. “They’re colorful, and they look like you put a lot of thought into picking out each one. They’re pretty.”
“Hmm. You flatter me,” he remarks, trying to hide his grin and failing. If you look closely, there’s just the slightest pink tint to his cheeks that wasn’t there before. He finishes trimming your bangs, and just before he stands up, he chucks you lightly under the chin. “Keep it up and you might get a freebie.”
A free what? You’re imagining he means some sort of a free hair wash or something, but you can’t keep your mind from going to unprecedented places. 
“All right. Bear with me, I’m gonna blow dry you now.” He turns your chair away from the mirror to get you a bit closer to the blow dryer, and for a few minutes, there’s a lull in the conversation. 
Then, all at once, the blow dryer shuts off, and Eddie leans down towards you. “Ready, sweetheart?”
“Eddie, you’re gonna make me nervous.”
“Well, we don’t want that.” You just barely turn your head to look at him; just enough that your noses barely brush. You steal a breath that comes from his mouth, and then, Eddie turns you to the mirror. “Like I said,” he murmurs, “There’s not a way to make you look bad.”
“Holy shit,” you breathe. And holy shit is right– he’s done a complete number on you. Your hair is voluminous, framing your face in a way that you haven’t seen it before.  
“What do you think?” he asks, and for a moment, you think it’s a rhetorical question.
“I think you’re way better than Melissa,” you tell him, once you realize that it’s not rhetorical and he’s really asking you what you think. You’re sure that he’d make adjustments if you needed, but you don’t need him to. He’s read you like a book. He’s made you look better than you could ever have hoped for. 
“I’m gonna need that in writing,” he tells you, with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen. “For employee of the month, and all.”
“Tell me where to sign.”
He jerks his head, and all at once the fog lifts. You follow him to the front desk like a lost puppy, feeling like you don’t actually want to leave. You want to sit in his chair while he cuts your hair until you have none left. You want to keep his attention on you and stare at his smile, his hair, his eyes, his tattoos, for the rest of time. 
“I look forward to next time, princess,” he tells you, but you’re hyperfocused on the touch of his hand to your lower back. 
You watch him telling something to the girl at the front desk, his hand wrapped around the edge of the table and distracting you for the umpteenth time. You watch his silver rings glint in the light, and you think about them weaving through your hair; you think about his fingers and how they’d feel on places besides your head.
“So, when did you want to schedule an appointment?” 
You blink a few times, and in a dazed glow you come back to where you are. At the front desk. Paying for your haircut. “Sorry, what?” 
“The… next appointment? For your trim?” The secretary tilts her head, smiling at you kindly. “When did you want to come in?”
“Oh,” you murmur, looking down at the keyboard that she’s typing on. Eddie has disappeared back around the partition with a sweet smile and a wave cast in your direction. You just want him to come back again. “What would you suggest? Y’know, for this kind of a cut?”
“Hmm,” the girl hums, and sizes you up. Not in a way that makes you doubt yourself, but in a way that tells you she’s taking your question seriously. “Probably about four weeks. See if the length is something you’re happy with?” 
“Great. Four weeks from now. With Eddie.” You peer down at the rack of business cards on the deck, and pick up the one farthest to the right. 
Eddie Munson, Stylist. Set an appointment today!
Tumblr media
By four weeks, your hair has already reached your shoulders, and the ease of maintenance is starting to wear off. When you get a call reminding you about your appointment with Eddie, your head reels with the knowledge that you’ll see him again.
You calmly assert to yourself that this time, there will be no mooning over him. He’s just your hairdresser. You figure he just has a job to do, tips to earn, and so on. You don’t know if he’s available, you don’t know if he’s single or if he even likes you the way that you like him. You don’t know anything about him, really.
False. You know that he used to wash his hair with bar soap.
You snicker to yourself as you sit in the waiting area yet again. The only available slot for him today was 6:30; pretty close to closing time, but for a Wednesday you figured it was best for you to come late, since you’d have time to get yourself together after work.
You’ve never been in the salon so late. It’s getting dark outside, and the overhead lights cast a semi-yellow glow around the waiting area. Business is dying down now. Not as many people love the idea of getting their hair cut so late, you suppose, but it was either this or wait another week to get an appointment with Eddie, and with the rate that your hair is growing, you’d probably be going insane by then.
“Hey, you,” Eddie says, popping his head around the partition with a grin that makes you nearly melt in your seat. His curly hair hangs in a curtain out in midair, and his long neck stretches out for you to take a gander at. “Just couldn’t stay away, huh?”
You smile at him. “Well, you’re the only person I trust with my head.”
What the fuck did you just say?
Eddie smirks, glowing pink around the ears. “I’ll keep that in mind, princess. Let me clean up my station real quick and I’ll getcha goin’, all right?”
You swallow back the lump in your throat. “Yeah, sure, no worries.”
When Eddie disappears again, you slide down in your seat and clap your hand across your eyes. You’re sort of glad that nobody was in the waiting room to see that ridiculous exchange, but you still have to sit with your embarrassment while Eddie cuts your hair. Again.
There will be no pining. There will be no getting weirdly turned on by him washing your hair. Nope, not happening this time.
This time, when Eddie ushers you back behind the partition, there’s only one two other stylists who are there cleaning their stations. The PA has been turned way down, so you can barely register what it’s playing at all.
“You actually came at a good time,” Eddie tells you as you trail after him toward the wash station. “You’re the last person for the night, so I can really take my time with you.”
“O-oh.. really?” You beat back your perverted thoughts with a stick. “To do what?”
“Oh, y’know,” Eddie shrugs as he lays a towel around your shoulders again, just as gentle as he was the last time. “We could do something totally crazy. Who knows what’ll happen?”
His voice is animated, pleasantly filling the empty space where your thoughts might become too much if you let them wander. 
Over the past month, after you’d recovered from your last meeting with Eddie, and as you were preparing for this one, you came up with a few things that you could ask him about– just to keep your mind from going to places you didn’t want them to. To save yourself the embarrassment and the ordeal of having to play whack-a-mole with your libido, and all. 
“Did you get employee of the month?” you begin with.
Eddie laughs, and then sighs. “No, our manicurist got it. I’ll get it this time, I just gotta stay on my A-game.” His blunt nails rake your hair away from your forehead and temples, and a lukewarm stream of water hits the crown of your skull.
You nearly want to jump out of your skin at the feeling. “Was it because they gave you the crap chair too many times?”
“Probably. But I got here early today, so the good news is you don’t have to sit in the crap chair this time.” 
“Aww, I kind of liked the crap chair. Kept me grounded.” You hear him huff a laugh as he starts lathering shampoo through your hair. Trying to keep your mind running so you don’t focus too hard on how good his rings feel scraping against your scalp, you ask, “How’d you get into this line of work?”
“Honestly, it’s kind of a weird story,” Eddie starts, beginning to massage his fingertips into your skull in a way that makes your toes curl in your shoes. You tighten your hands on the arms of your chair and take a deep breath. “So, it took me three tries to graduate high school, right? I was terrible at it. And, y’know, I figured I’d only end up working in a garage or something for the rest of my life. But I was cutting my mane all on my own, and eventually I started cutting my friends’ hair too, because they were all in college and it’s cheaper than going to a salon. I mean–” he chuckles, and begins rinsing your hair– “believe me. I know all about it. And it just came to me really easily, ‘cause I used to be great at drawing and crafting and stuff. And it’s kind of the same thing– once you learn the medium, it’s smooth sailing from there.”
The salon has gone eerily quiet, and by the time Eddie wraps your head and sits you up, you realize that the other stylists have gone, and you and Eddie are the last people in the building. You’d be a little nervous about it, but you got Eddie on a roll, and honestly, he makes it so easy to listen to him.
“Anyways, one day my friend Robin says to me, ‘You should totally get your credential for this,’ and I said, ‘You have to go to school for this shit?’” You blow a raspberry of a laugh, no longer feeling anxious as he sits you down on his not-crap styling chair. He drapes a smock over you, and cracks a grin at you in the mirror. “I know! So, I’ve never been great at school, and I can’t afford to pay for beauty school tuition on the pay I was making at the time, so my friends… they pooled together some money to at least pay for my first semester. And then– get this– I got on the fucking Dean’s list.”
“No way.”
“I did! Yours truly!” He does a little bow, and while you’re still giggling, he begins detangling your hair. “So, I got grants. And I finished top of my class, because as it turns out, when you don’t hate what you’re studying it’s really easy to do well. I got my certification framed and everything. Show that to my damn high school principal.” He shakes his head, but the smile is still on his face when he says, “But now I just have to get that fucking employee of the month.” 
“Anything I can do to help?” you offer, admiring his face in the mirror again without even realizing you’re doing it. You love seeing him grin, showing off his dimples and the smile lines around his eyes.
“Oh, you know,” he shrugs with a cute scrunch of his nose. “Just make sure you write my boss a letter saying how fantastic and amazing I am and how there’s no other hair stylist like me and how you’ll never find anyone as cool and sexy anywhere else. Something subtle like that oughta do it.” 
“Shouldn’t be difficult,” you tell him smoothly. “I already had that one drafted.”
He chuckles, his eyes sparkling when he reaches for his scissors, but you still notice the faint blush on his cheeks that he tries to hide behind his curtain of hair. “Flattery. You know what that gets you with me.”
A freebie. You hear his voice echoing in your head, and you swallow past the dryness in your throat. “Like… what? A mohawk?”
“Would you want a mohawk?” he asks you, pausing his movements to peer at you. “Because that’d be metal as hell, I’d be so down.” 
You laugh. “I appreciate it, but I think… probably not today.”
Eddie hums, and returns to smoothing your hair back away from your face. “So we’re just doing the same as last time?” 
“Yeah, not too flashy.” 
“Gotcha. It’s a shame, though. I’m always up for a challenge.” 
“Well, I think that short hair is just easier to maintain,” you tell him, at a loss for what else to say. He glances up at you in the mirror, and locks eyes with you. “And it doesn’t make my neck look as stumpy as it is.”
Eddie tilts his head with a confused pout, and then he reaches down and wraps his hands loosely around your throat. Your breath stalls in your chest, your eyes focused on the sight of his hands on you, his thumbs gently stroking the nape of your neck and his ring clad fingers pressed just below your chin. His fingers link and hold you, creating a necklace that you’ll never be able to find anywhere else.
Oh, shit. Oh, fucking hell. Everything below your waist draws up tight and hard, your thighs clamping together like that’s going to somehow will away the hold that Eddie has on you.
You lift your eyes and find his in the mirror, dark and focused in on you. You hold each others’ gaze for a prolonged moment, not saying anything, you barely even daring to breathe. You can’t imagine what the expression on your face looks like. You’re too busy staring at the one on his– like there are a million thoughts running through his head, and you’re desperate to know every single one of them.
“Nah, I think you’re perfect.” And just like that, Eddie moves on like nothing happened, picking up his scissors again. Like he didn’t just fry your brain. Like you’re not halfway to cardiac arrest.
You’re dumbstruck as he starts trimming the ends of your hair. You told yourself there would be no mooning over him. No pining. But here, you are, turned on beyond belief, and having to deal with the heartbeat pulsing between your legs, and not shift around, because you don’t want to fuck him up. 
When he pinches the ends of the front to see if they’re level, you’re staring directly at him in the mirror. Not even trying to hide it, either. If you did try, you’d most certainly fail. Eddie frowns in concentration, a bit of a crease to his brow as he peers at his hands.
Eddie tuts. “I’m trying to figure out– is it–?” He grabs the back of your chair, and suddenly you’re being swiveled around to face him. “Sometimes these mirrors don’t even help a guy out at the worst goddamn times…”
Your breathing is way heavier than it needs to be. Is it hot in here? Did they crank up the heat in this place specifically to spite you? Eddie’s face is so close to yours, and you’re not sure if the fact that you aren’t in the crap chair is helping. You’re higher up now, and he doesn’t have to bend down as far to get level with you, and his eyes are the color of dark chocolate, and you–
Eddie’s hand comes up and snips the tip off the right side. “There we go. One side was all fucked.”
“Well, we don’t want anything getting fucked, do we?” you mutter under your breath. What’s left of it.
Eddie pauses and his eyes flick up to yours. His eyelashes are long and flutter as he holds your gaze again, while you try hard not to look away. There’s that unreadable expression on his face from earlier, morphing slowly into something like amusement, but that could also just be your mind playing tricks on you. Don’t look at his lips. Don’t look at his lips. Don’t look at his li–
“Screw it.” Eddie tosses his scissors to the ground and his hands come up to grip your face, smoothing your hair back tenderly before he kisses you. 
You open your mouth and Eddie is in it, searching, feeling. His hands hold your head firm and you feel the metal of his rings digging into your cheeks, and you’re splitting apart at the seams from the way he’s completely invading your senses. He smells like warm, spicy cologne and hairspray. He tastes like cigarettes and cherry coke. He moans into you, and the sound is like heaven. 
You lift your legs and wrap them around his waist, and he grunts before he pulls away just the tiniest bit to give you breathing room. 
“This is highly unprofessional, Mr. Munson,” you whisper to him, as if you don’t have him caged in with your thighs.
“I don’t… actually fucking care,” Eddie admits, his nose just nudging against yours. “Got so fuckin’ hard the minute I saw you. What am I gonna do with you, huh?”
“Dunno,” you murmur against his mouth, “I’m waiting for you to tell me.” 
“C’mere.” He pulls you out of your seat, and you practically trip over the smock he clipped around your neck. 
“Get me out of this thing,” you giggle, letting your forehead fall onto his shoulder. You inhale a deep breath of his cologne, feeling his chest shake with his laugh. 
“Aww, but you look so cute,” Eddie coos, but his hands come up to undo the button at the back of your neck. The fabric slides to the ground, and Eddie kicks it aside as he crowds you back against the table. Your ass hits the edge of it and your hand falls onto a comb when you try to steady yourself. He pulls you flush to his body, his hands caging you in. Eddie’s tongue dances over your bottom lip and you moan, lifting your hands to tangle in the fabric of his shirt.
He ducks his head to help you pull his shirt off before he tosses it somewhere to the side. You’re distracted by his tattoos, each one of them beautiful and detailed, standing out against his pale skin.
Then, you remember something that he told you earlier, and you connect some dots that you hadn’t even realized were there. “Did you draw these?” 
Eddie’s grin could blind the sun. He blushes pink down his neck and shoulders. “Yeah, I did.” 
“They’re gorgeous. I meant what I said before– I really like them.” 
He sucks in a deep breath, and then his lips are on you, everywhere they can manage. On your face, your neck, trying to get at your collarbone but your shirt is in the way. He fists it in his hands, making a petulant noise in the back of his throat. “Help me out here, sweetheart.”
Your shirt lands somewhere near his. You don’t see exactly where, because he’s pulling the straps of your bra down your shoulders so that he can mouth kisses across your breasts, pulling down on the cups until he can graze his teeth over your nipple. It takes you so off guard that you bite back a squeal, tugging at his hair and rubbing your thighs together to stave off the incessant throbbing between them.
When you look down at him, his eyes are so dark that they’re almost black. Your heart thuds erratically in your chest, your breath not coming even though you gasp and pull at the air with everything you have. You can’t really fathom why he has you so worked up– just that it’s been so long since anyone touched you like this, and now that you have it it’s like every little point of contact is on fire.
Eddie grazes his teeth across your breast, and your knees nearly buckle out from under you. You grab his face, guiding him back up to you. 
“What were you thinking when you grabbed my throat?” you ask him, your voice hoarse in the back of your throat. 
His hands are on you now, grabbing at your waist and hips, squeezing like he’ll never let go. “I can show you, if you want,” Eddie answers, and he sounds just as wrecked as you. Maybe more. 
There’s absolutely no way you’re going to refuse that. Not with the way you’ve been lusting after him since meeting him. You nod. “Eddie, please–”
He kisses you hard again before mumbling against your lips, “Turn around and take off your pants.”
You do what he asks without a second’s hesitation. You watch him in the mirror as he follows your movements, undoing his own belt, and you kick your jeans and underwear off without thinking about why you’re here, without wondering about the repercussions. You figure you can probably do that later.
Right now, Eddie’s smoothing his hand up your spine, and the feeling of his fingers dancing along your skin sends shivers through your body. His fingers weave through the hair at the nape of your neck, and he pulls just slightly, until you bare your neck. 
Your breath hitches in your throat. Your heart hammers as you watch him, dark eyes and hair and rosy cheeks in the mirror, his carnation colored lips twisting into a wicked grin at you. He kisses your shoulder so gently it’s like the fluttering of a feather. 
“‘Stumpy neck,’” Eddie scoffs under his breath, and you tremble. “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”
He bends you forward until you’re face to face with yourself in the mirror– but you’re looking at him, gazing into your eyes while he teases himself at your entrance.
“Oh my god,” you groan, dropping your head almost immediately at the feeling. Your head is spinning, your body rigid with anticipation and breaking out in a cool sweat already. 
“Mm-mm,” Eddie hums condescendingly, and a hand clamps around your throat, hoisting your head up again. A gasp tears from your lips. In the mirror, his eyes are blazing. “You look at me while I fuck you. That’s the only way this is gonna happen. Got it?”
You nod. You want to shrink away from the heat in his gaze, but you want him to fuck you way more than that. You shudder as he leans forward, pressing in until his chin nearly rests on your shoulder.
“I need to hear you say it, baby.” His thumb strokes lightly along your pulse point, and you make a soft noise in the back of your throat without thinking. “Tell me you understand.” 
“I understand,” you tell him, barely a whisper, but he hears it all the same. 
“Good girl.” 
Eddie grins, kisses the nape of your neck, and pulls back. When he does, you’re barely able to take a breath before he pushes his hard cock into you, and the noise you make is almost embarrassing in its volume. 
“Ohhh, you’re absolutely soaked, baby. She’s practically dripping– is this just for me?” Eddie murmurs in your ear, grinding his hips up against your ass for emphasis. The lewd noise that it makes has your toes curling and the tips of your ears burning.
“Fuck,” you moan, ginding back against him to push him deeper. He’s so thick and you’re so sensitive that your mind is completely blanking at the feeling. 
Eddie notices, and he chuckles as grabs your waist with one hand as he thrusts his hips forward. “I’ve barely gotten my cock in you, princess. Don’t go getting all dumb on me already.” His voice goes straight between your legs and your cunt pulses around him, making him hiss through his teeth. The hand on your throat tightens just slightly. “I asked you a question.”
You keen, your mind reeling as you search for words. You manage to nod, babbling out, “Yes, it’s– it’s all for you, Eddie, been wanting you so bad, s’all I can think about–”
Eddie coos, grabbing your chin to shut you up while a particularly hard thrust of his hips knocks the wind out of you. He turns his head and grazes his lips against your cheek, eyeing you in the mirror as he says, “I knew it.” 
Your eyes are on him, on his hand around your neck, on his rings pressed into your skin. All that your fucked-out mind can think is that it’s hot, and you like him and his strong hands and his pretty eyes and the way his cock is reaching places inside you that make thoughts really difficult to come by.
Eddie whispers something against your skin, and you miss it because you’re hooked on the way his eyelashes flutter for just a moment while his lips are pressed against your cheek. You lift your hand, until it rests over his against your throat, his fingers just barely laced with yours. 
“Again,” you say– it comes out like a command, but you mean it like a question. You don’t know what the fuck he just said. 
“You’re so beautiful,” he repeats, and his voice nearly cracks with the desperation in it. His sweat slick chest is pressed against your back, his thrusts rocking your hips into the table and jostling it into the wall, but his voice is so tender. “So perfect for me.” 
Your mouth falls open, your hand tightening on his. You pull, until he loosens his grip and his hand comes away with yours. You kiss his palm, then his fingertips, holding his gaze in the mirror as you slowly, gently swirl your tongue around his middle and forefinger. 
Eddie’s eyes narrow coyly at you, while his thrusts make you mewl and clutch at the table with your free hand. You suck his two fingers deep into your mouth, earning a pleased groan from him in your ear– a sound which you want to hear again and again, no matter what it takes. 
“Look at you, sweet little thing, gettin’ my fingers all wet like that,” he whispers to you, biting his lip as you grind back against him. “Wanna do something with ‘em?”
You moan, letting his fingers slide from your mouth with a wet pop. You guide his hand down your chest, down your stomach, until his fingers slide between your legs. 
“There you go,” Eddie coos, taking over from your guidance as his fingers start rubbing small circles against your clit. “Atta girl, showin’ me what you want. Just needed me to fuck you stupid first, hm?”
Your cunt pulses, and you cum with a loud moan that echoes off of the mirror in front of you and around the empty space. Eddie cries out, and you feel his warmth fill you as he cums. He slows until he stills inside you, and then he holds you, panting against your cheek, his arm wrapped around your middle and his hand on your throat.
You haven’t moved your hand away from his, you realize, after a few moments of bliss in the aftershocks. You drop your hand to the table with a thud, earning a soft, breathless chuckle from him. 
“Can I take you out to dinner?” Eddie asks you, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.
“I think you can do whatever you want with me,” you murmur dazedly, just barely shifting and making him hiss. He’s still inside you, trying to hold you steady while he calms himself down. 
“Good.” There’s a kiss to your cheek, and Eddie grunts as he slowly eases out of you. “I still need to finish your goddamn haircut.”
“Eddie, we’re naked.” 
“And?” His hands are moving quicker than your mind is, yanking a kleenex from the table so that he can bend down and wipe the insides of your thighs. You jump at the sudden touch, but he clamps a hand around your hip to hold you still. “The sooner I finish your hair, the sooner I close up, and the sooner we go get dinner. You like Italian?”
“I didn’t think your pillow talk would involve finishing my haircut,” you grumble, but there’s a smile worming it’s way onto your face even as you say it. 
“That’s the name of the game, sweetheart,” Eddie says, tossing the tissue into the trash. He picks up your underwear, and the smock from the floor. “Now, sit your cute ass down. I’m not gonna get employee of the month by dishing out orgasms and not bangs, y’know.”
2K notes · View notes
the-isekai-ninja · 4 months ago
Text
Thinking about Kakashi moving in with you.
It's only been a few months since you started dating but every time he's been over he leaves another thing there. First it was some clothes, just so you had something that smelled like him when he was away.
Then a tooth brush and other small toiletries for when he's too tired to go home.
Then books you definitely didn't purchase start appearing on your shelf. On your coffee table. One you found under your bed.
Eventually you jokingly suggest he just moves in with you, but the puppy dog eyes he gives you at the suggestion makes you cave and that same night you and him are packing up his place and moving everything he owns over to yours.
Really, it would have made more sense for you to move in with him as his old place had way more space then your tiny townhouse but you have a wonderful balcony that shows an incredible landscape of Konoha he can't get enough of so it was a no brainer that sacrificing space for the view was worth it.
It doesn't really hit you until a week into it when things have settled. You had gotten an extra set of keys cut for everything and now Kakashi had his own designated spot on your key rack at the front door.
His food and drinks are in your fridge and pantry, extra glasses and plates from his house now shared the space with yours. Horribly mismatched but you wouldn't have it any other way.
His flak vest hangs over one of your dining chairs, too lazy to hang it up properly in a closet as it'll be put back on the very next morning.
Your laundry basket fills up faster now and doing laundry has his clothes mixed with yours. He folds the clean clothes with you as you chat about your day.
Showers he becomes a nightmare. He barges in without a care in the world, asking if he can join you. You've thrown a loofa at him a few times now, sometimes a shower needed to stay a shower and you were always too weak to say no when he started getting handsy.
He makes dinner and you sit at the counter as you watch him, a pink frilly apron you were jokingly gifted as a housewarming present now wrapped around his waist as he chops some veggies.
It's jarring the first time Gai came to visit, asking if Kakashi was home. It takes you a few seconds of gears turning in your head before you remember that yes, of course people would come to see kakashi here, he lives with you! Kakashi warns you later Gai was just being polite since this is still new, eventually he'll go back to barging in without a care in the world.
The nail on the coffin at how absolutely domestic all of this has become, is when you leave the bathroom to see Kakashi tucked into bed with a book in his hands. He's reading comfortably with a small light on and you can't help but stare. He's in a sweater as it's gotten colder and his mask is nowhere to be found. You stand there for an uncomfortably long time and finally Kakashi glances up to ask you what's wrong.
"You live with me." You announce, as if he wasn't aware of this fact.
He stares at you bewildered but it slowly turns into amusement, "Yes. Yes I do. Have for a few days now."
"You live with me." You state again, finally processing after a whirlwind week the meaning of this change.
Kakashi puts his book to the side to address you properly, "Yes? Is that...a problem...?"
A surge of excitement, love, and passion all bubble up inside of you at once and you fling yourself at Kakashi, catching the Copy Ninja off guard as you wrap your arms around his neck and pepper kisses against his cheek.
Kakashi is taken aback by the sudden action but recovers quickly and wraps his own arms around your torso, pulling you in close to himself as you continue to kiss his bare face. Cheeks, nose, mouth, chin, eyes. It's an onslaught that the ninja is unable to (and doesn't want to) stop.
You shove your face into his chest, nuzzling it in excitement. You peak up and give Kakashi a goofy grin, "You live with me!"
Kakashi gives you an incredulous look before a laugh erupts from his chest, shaking you as you lie on top of him. "I do!"
He kisses your forehead as he pulls you in even closer. You crawl over his lap and cup his face in your hands as you kiss him more.
You pull away to take him in. He's smiling at your antics as he rubs your back with one of his hands as the other slides up to caress your cheek. "Sometimes I feel like I don't deserve this." he confesses.
You squish his cheeks before pecking his lips, "Well it's a good thing it's not solely your decision."
He chuckles, "I suppose so. Thank you. You make me so happy you have no idea."
You huffed, "Kakashi I was so happy that you're here my brain short circuited and I tackled you just a few seconds ago, I have a small idea."
He pulls you in to kiss you again, this time with far more passion than the innocent kisses you had been giving out before. He flips you over to cage you against his body, one arm still wrapped around your waist as the other is used to keep himself hovering over you. "I love you."
You smile up at him, hands going to wrap around his neck again, "I love you too Kakashi. Forever and always."
"Forever and always." He replies back, leaning down to meet your lips again.
In a year, he will find his way back to his old family home and clean it up. When he proposes to you just a week later he'll take you there and tell you it's yours. You'll have to pack up again, say goodbye to the view of your balcony where the two of you spent many quiet nights enjoying each other's company.
Your plates still won't match, his flak vest now has a small space to hang at the front door, your laundry will still get fuller faster, and Kakashi will still try to sneak into your shower. Gai will barge into your home and Kakashi still loves making dinner in that silly pink apron because it makes you laugh.
You'll find you don't miss your small townhouse that could barely fit a second bookshelf because Kakashi has become your home, and you had become his. Wherever you two ended up, so long as you were together, you would be happy together.
515 notes · View notes
woso-dreamzzz · 7 months ago
Text
Copy II
Alessia Russo x Child!Reader
Katie McCabe x Child!Reader
Summary: Your sister is just like your brothers
Tumblr media
When Alessia changed teams from United to Arsenal, it means you got a new Russo kit. You get every shirt of every team Lessi's ever been on.
You've even got her college football shirt but that's a sleepytime shirt so you don't wear it out of the house.
You wear your new Arsenal shirt out of the house though because Lessi's taking you to training with her. One day, she tells you, the number on your back will be yours rather than hers and you'll be the Russo playing.
By the time you start playing with the big girls, Lessi will be at the end of her career or already retired. You'll never play with Alessia Russo, the football player but she promises you that you can always play with Lessi Russo, your sister.
Arsenal is different from United so you can actually attend because Lessi lives closer now.
It's shooting training today and that's your most favourite. You can't join in when the big girls first start training but you can be included near the end.
You've been excited about practicing with Lessi all week but now, as you watch her, you can feel that excitement fade away.
Some of the Academy girls have been invited to practice with the first team. They're bigger than you so they can play with the big girls from the beginning.
There's one in particular that's getting personal attention from Lessi. Your sister's adjusting her position and showing her the correct technique the exact way that Lessi does for you, down to slightly nudging her around with her boots.
Alessia's smiling at her with the same smile that's usually reserved for you.
You thought that smiling was only used for you. You thought you were special because Alessia only smiles at you that way.
Apparently not.
Apparently you and this Academy girl are the exact same in Alessia's eyes.
A long time ago, when you much littler, Gio and Luca both yelled at you when you tried to play with them. They kept pushing you away and you kept trying to get involved until they yelled.
Mummy took you away as you sobbed and had to explain that sometimes your siblings didn't want to play with a little girl like you. She explained that sometimes people your siblings' ages like to hang out with people their age.
You were silly to think that only applied to your brothers because it's clear that Alessia is just like them. She wants to hang out with only people close to her age too.
It's that time in training where you can join in but she still hasn't called you over.
She's just like your brothers.
You want to be just like Alessia. You want to make her proud but she's forgotten about you just like your brothers do.
You really, really want her to be proud of you though but you don't know how to compete with the bigger girls who can kick harder and run faster than you.
You're still little compared to them.
"Alright, little Russo?"
Katie sits down next to you, nudging her knee against yours.
""Why aren't you practicing, huh?"
You burst into tears immediately and Katie jolts in shock.
"Ah, shit. No, wait, not shit. Don't-Don't repeat that! Crap! Er..." She folds you into a hug quickly. "Do you want me to get Less?"
"N-No!" You blubber," Lessi doesn't want me! No Lessi!"
"Oh, kid, I think your sister-"
"No Lessi!" You insist.
"Okay," Katie says," No Russo. Come on, let's take you inside and get you something to drink."
You don't know why you confess everything to Katie but you do. She's nice and warm and gives good hugs. Not as good as Alessia's but still good.
She keeps you with her and lets you help out in the gym before you crash out on the mats halfway through her session, one of her jackets thrown over you in lieu of a blanket.
Katie keeps working on the weights, one earphone hanging in her ear pumping music to keep her motivated while the other dangles.
It's because of that single earphone that Katie's still aware enough of her surroundings to hear the door bang open and Alessia to come tumbling through it.
"I've lost my sister!" She announces," Fuck, Katie, have you seen my sister?"
"Over by the mats," Katie replies," She was very upset. You didn't include her in training when you said you would. You gave a lot of attention to the Academy girls. She felt pretty left out."
"It was an accident!" Alessia insists," I swear! I didn't mean to."
"Hey, you don't need to convince me. Convince your sister."
You're laying on the mats, asleep under Katie's jacket, and Alessia shakes you awake. You come back into consciousness groggily and sit up, rubbing your eyes.
"Hey, tesoro," She says softly," I heard you were feeling upset."
You nod.
"I'm sorry," She says," It was my mistake. I didn't mean to leave you out. Sometimes the Academy girls need help sometimes."
"I need help too," You whisper.
"Not like them, do you know why?"
You shake your head. "Why?"
"Because you're a little superstar. They're just not as good as you."
"But they're big girls."
"Being big girls don't mean they're the best. Not like you are."
You grin up at Lessi. "Really?"
"Of course. You know I wouldn't lie to you."
757 notes · View notes
munsonsmixtapes · 6 months ago
Text
Maybe I Do
Tumblr media
Buck x Eddie x fem!firefighter!reader
summary: you and Eddie are in a secret relationship and Buck wants to be apart of it, only for you to reject him. But when a new member joins the 118 and starts flirting with Buck, you and Eddie realize that you actually do like him.
word count: 4k
cw: make out session, reader has a panic attack, hurt/comfort
based on a comment on this post by @unknown-2505
"We should probably stop," you told Eddie as you went in for another kiss. "We're going to be late."
"Tell them that we were stuck in traffic." He licked into your mouth and you let out a moan at the feeling of his tongue scratching against yours. You were straddling his waist as the two of you sat in the passenger seat of your car, trying to get in a quickie before you had to go into work.
"Eddie," you laughed. "C'mon." But he just pulled you in for another kiss, trying to get to any place he could reach as you grabbed your shirt from the driver’s seat. You put it on and Eddie helped you button it, whining about needing one more kiss. He was always like that, never able to get enough of your lips. Especially since he was about to go into a long shift with a single one.
You had mutually decided to keep it a secret since you didn’t want everyone meddling into your love life. And it was kind of fun sneaking around. It was hot sneaking off to the bathroom to have a quickie, your hearts pounding as you tried to keep quiet so no one would hear you. And as far as you were concerned, no one knew.
You opened the door and Eddie helped you out before you grabbed your duffel and hurried into the station. Eddie counted to sixty then copied you, hurrying into the station a minute after you so nobody would have been suspicious about the two of you coming in together.
You both put your stuff away in your locker, Buck not far behind. He stood next to you as he put his things away, nudging your shoulder as he did so. It was something that he did every morning without fail. It was his very subtle way of telling you that he was interested in you. So subtle that you hadn’t even realized that was what he was hinting at.
He had liked Eddie for a long time, but when you came along, he knew he was fucked. You were just so pretty and nice, and seeing the two of you together was a lethal combo. You were both so hot that it was causing his bi panic to skyrocket. And he slowly started to realize that he was in love with the both of you. Head over heel, completely and totally in love. So much so that it was making him feel sick.
And it wasn’t like he could tell either of you. You would have been supportive, of course, that was just how the two of you were, but he was beginning to think that maybe it wasn’t the right idea to tell you. As far as he was concerned, he was taking that shit to the grave. It was far too embarrassing to admit it. How could he go about telling his two best friends that he was in love with them?
“Buck?” You asked, nudging his shoulder. “You still with us?” He finally came back to the real world to see your beautiful eyes looking at him. You almost seemed concerned and he didn’t like that. He appreciated that you worried about him (maybe a bit too much) but he didn’t need you to. He didn’t need you wasting that kind of energy on him. He didn’t think he deserved it.
“Huh?” He asked, completely unaware that you had even been speaking to him. He was too far into his own little world.
“We were wondering if you were still going out with us tonight,” Eddie said and Buck had to try his hardest not to stare at Eddie’s flexed arm as he put his bag into his locker.
“Yeah, of course,” Buck nodded as he forced himself to turn away. “I’m always in.”
“Good because it’s my treat because,” you paused for dramatic effect and held up your keys, showing him the newest addition.
“You got it?” He asked excitedly, reaching out for the key.
“I did,” you smiled proudly. “Got the keys yesterday. Can you believe it, Buck? A place that’s all mine.” Well, a place that was yours and Eddie’s and Christopher’s, but Buck didn’t need to know that.
You both felt horrible for hiding it from him, but you felt like it was for the best. Yes, you were pretty serious considering that him and his son had moved in with you, but you still didn’t feel like it was the right time to lay everything on the table.
You knew everyone would be supportive, especially Buck, but it just felt much better to keep it to yourself for the time being. You felt like telling everyone the truth would only make things weird with you and Eddie you had been hiding for about six months and it just would have been odd to spill everything now. Plus, you thought the whole secrecy thing was hot.
“I’ll have to see it sometime,” he said, leaning in a bit too close to you, but he couldn’t help it. You just smelled so good.
“I guess you will,” you smiled back only to see Eddie making a motion to stop you from speaking. “I-I mean, maybe,” you shrugged.
“What?” Buck was very confused by your response, turning around to see what you were looking at and Eddie turned his back to head out of the locker room.
“Nothing,” you smiled brightly.
“You’re acting weird.”
“Maybe you’re the one who’s acting weird,” you countered, crossing your arms over your chest in a defensive manner. Buck stepped closer to you, resting a hand on your arm. He was getting concerned, wondering if there was something that you were too afraid to tell him. But you could tell him, he wouldn’t judge you, in fact, he would have helped you through whatever it was.
“What’s really going on?” He asked, his blue eyes boring into yours. You felt horrible lying to him, but you were just doing what you thought was right.
“Nothing, seriously, Buck. I appreciate you worrying about me, but you don’t need to.” You removed his hand from your shoulder and took it in both of yours. “I swear.”
“Okay,” he nodded. “But you know you can come to me with anything, right?”
“I know that,” you nodded.
“Good.” With that, you both fled the locker room and all headed up the stairs where the rest of the 118 was resting, waiting around for a call. You sat on the sofa next to Eddie, making sure to keep space between your bodies so as to not look suspicious.
He was watching the TV across from the couch intently. So much so that you were convinced that he hadn’t even seen you. But not long after you sat down, he slowly inched his hand towards yours. You looked over your shoulder to see everyone in the kitchen getting coffee, so you took Eddie’s hand, intertwining your fingers, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.
You ran your thumb over them as the two of you watched the TV, a silly comedy playing on the TV. But you weren’t really watching. All you could think about was what Buck had said about you acting weird. Did he know what was going on with you and Eddie? He had to if he was calling your behavior, right? And he was also suspicious of Eddie now that he thought about it.
Now that someone knew, you were concerned that you were going to have to call the whole thing off. You really loved Eddie and didn’t want to give up on him. You couldn’t. Especially since you had just moved in together. Especially since you had just gotten Christopher used to moving to a new place and he actually seemed to be happy with it.
Your life had changed for the better since they had entered it and you weren’t going to give it up. You couldn’t. This was only the beginning. And you weren’t going to let Buck’s knowledge of your relationship ruin it.
“So, what are you two up to?” Hen asked as she leaned over the back of the sofa. Both you and Eddie let go of each other’s hand when you noticed her presence and if he saw it, she didn’t say anything.
“Watching TV, obviously,” Eddie laughed nervously. Hen rounded the sofa and sat on the cushion between the two of you. Hen had been suspicious of the two of you for months and seeing you hold hands like that confirmed them. The way the two of you behaved around each other was much more than friendly even if the others couldn’t see through it like she could.
She was supportive, though. She had seen the attraction since you first showed up and she was nothing but happy for the two of you. She was just hoping that Buck was going to be okay, though. He had confided in her about his crush on the both of you and was concerned how that was all going to do go down. Buck was like a little brother to her and she wanted to protect him at all costs.
Because of her suspicion, Hen told him to hold off on telling the two of you how he felt. She could see how much he was aching because of how strong his feelings were, but there was no way she was going to tell him that the two of you were together. It wasn’t any of her business and she didn’t want to make anything weird between the three of you. You were so close and she wasn’t going to take the blame for breaking the three of you up.
“Listen,” she said, motioning for you both to lean forward. You listened and leaned closer, Hen’s voice lowering to a whisper. “I know about the two of you.” Both of you widened your eyes and turned to each other. You swore you weren’t that obvious, but supposed that if anyone could have figured it out, it would have been Hen.
“But-” you tried to speak, but Bobby’s voice cut you off.
“Alright, everyone, listen up,” he called out and you all turned into him, your eyes immediately catching onto the man and woman who were standing on either side of him. “This is Hazel,” he rested a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “And Benjamin,” his other hand landed on the man’s shoulder. “They’re the newest members of the 118 so treat them like one of us, alright?”
Just as the words left his mouth, the siren went off and you all were flying down the stairs to head to the engine. Everyone was able to fit except Chimney and Hen who were taking the ambulance. You were in between Eddie and Buck, both of the new members of the crew sitting across from you along with Ravi.
You could hear Buck and Eddie making conversation with them, but you weren’t paying attention, their words sounding all muffled as you got too into your head. You didn’t think you and Eddie had been obvious, but considering Hen had figured you out, you were convinced that everyone else knew as well. And now you were afraid Bobby was going to transfer you because the two of you were dating because you knew that it was against the rules for the two of you to be romantically linked.
After the call, the engine pulled back up to the fire house and once you got out, you headed to the women’s bathroom, beckoning for Eddie to follow, counting to a minute before he met you there. You locked the both of you in the handicapped stall and Eddie was quick to rest his hands on your waist, leaning in for a kiss, but you out your hand on his chest to stop him.
“We’re not here to make out, Eddie.”
“Then what are we here for?”
“We need to talk.” He didn’t like the sound of that. Oh god, you were going to break up with him. That was usually what those words meant. At least, whenever he had heard them, that was what they had meant.
You couldn’t break up with him. You had such a good thing going. You were the best thing that had ever happened to him and he couldn’t let you slip through his fingers because of something stupid that he had done. At least, he assumed it was his fault. All of his breakups were.
“I’m not breaking up with you,” you told him and he let out a deep breath.
“Thank god. Then what is this about?”
“I think we need to tell everyone about us.”
“Why?”
“Hen knows so it’s only a matter of time before everyone else does too.” Eddie supposed you were right. He didn’t think that Hen would tell anyone, but he thought it was best that you both just came clean.
“I’ll do whatever you want me to do. You know that.” His hand reached up and pushed your hair behind your ears before pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.
“Let’s tell them tomorrow morning,” you said. “It’s been a long day.”
“I agree,” he nodded. “So now that that’s settled…”
“I guess I can agree to that,” you rolled your eyes. Eddie smiled down at you, backing you up against the wall before pressing his lips to yours. Your arms wrapped around his neck while his went to your waist, picking you up from the floor and your legs wrapped around his middle as he pinned you to the wall as he licked into your mouth.
He unbuttoned the first few buttons of your shirt and pushed it down your shoulders before going straight for your neck, licking and sucking on the spot, eliciting a moan from your lips. This was by far his favorite thing to do to you whenever you were together like this. He loved the noises you made and the way he was able to make you come undone just by sucking on your skin. And when he was done, you were able to cover it up with the collar of your shirt. It was something just for the two of you. Your own little secret.
“So good, Eddie,” you moaned and that only encouraged him, intending on making you orgasm just from giving you a hickey. “We-we have to go back soon or they’ll get suspicious,” you told him through your labored breaths. There was a truth to your words, but you both were just too caught up in how good you felt to stop.
He continued to lick and suck, wanting the mark he was creating to be dark. So much so that there was no way for you to hide it with makeup. He wanted to stand behind you in the mirror in your shared bathroom while both of you admired the pretty bruise.
“Hold on, honey,” he murmured against your lips. “I’m doing my best work.” His teeth grazed your skin and you swore you were going to melt. If he hadn’t have been holding you, you were sure that your legs would have given out.
“Sh-shit, Ed. Do that again.” Your words were already slurring and he was positive that was a record of how quick he was to make you come undone. He did as you asked and grazed the spot with his teeth, harder this time. Your hands moved to his hair and you gave it a yank in response to the pleasure coursing through you.
He bit down on the mark that was forming, but not enough to break the skin, and you moaned, even louder this time. Surely someone would have heard you from outside the bathroom, but you didn’t care. You were just so focused on Eddie and his mouth.
You collapsed against him and he licked a stripe across the forming bruise to diffuse the sting before pulling away from you completely. He smiled down at the pretty mark he had made, the thing shining with his spit then set you down on the floor. He then began to button up your shirt, taking his time to make sure that all of the buttons were lined up properly. You had almost gotten caught week before because of that very thing and neither of you were going to repeat your errors.
-
The bar was pretty empty when you, Eddie and Buck arrived. The three of you hurried inside and ordered a round of shots to celebrate another job well done. The day had been pretty busy and now you were all ready to unwind. Well, you and Eddie were. Buck was just ready to tell you both the truth about the feelings he was harboring. He felt like he needed to get the words out no matter what Hen said. He knew that she was just looking out for him, but he had holding his feelings in for far too long.
He looked at the both of you and noticed the look you were sharing. It was almost…romantic. In that moment, he realized what was happening. The two of you were together. Now it all made sense. The sneaking off, the two of you coming back with your hair messed up and your shirts buttoned weirdly. Buck had been so preoccupied with his crush on both of you that he hadn’t been paying attention. Until now.
“Buck?” You asked, nudging him shoulder.
“Huh?” He was finally focusing in again. His mind in reality.
“Are you okay, man?” Eddie asked. “You’ve been spacey all day.”
“I guess I’ve just had a lot on my mind.” He headed towards an open table and sat down, both you and Eddie following him.
“What is it?” You asked as you sat across from him, setting your hand on top of his that was resting on the table. He immediately pulled it away and shook his head, nervously scratching at the back of his neck.
“Look,” he let out a sigh, closing his eyes. “What I’m going to say is going to sound crazy.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” Eddie replied as he sipped on the beer he had ordered. He was convinced that he would be supportive of whatever Buck was going to tell him.
“Yeah,” you nodded. “You can tell us.”
“Fine. But remembered that you asked for it.” He ran his hands down his face and downed the shot that he had been too stunned to drink, hoping that would help with his nerves. “I’m in love with you,” he said. “Both of you.” Both of your eyes widened and you turned to each other in shock.
Out of all all the things Buck could have said, you definitely weren’t expecting that. You kind of assumed he had feelings for Eddie, but you? You didn’t even think that you were his type. But now you guessed you were. You were surprised to say the least. You and Eddie had been together for months and nobody new, but now you were going to have to confess two things. One, that you were together, and two, that you didn’t feel the same way. At least, you didn’t. You didn’t feel like it was right to speak for Eddie.
“Buck,” Eddie replied in surprise. Unfortunately, Eddie hadn’t felt the same way either. Maybe he did once upon a time, but as soon as he met you everything changed. And now he felt bad for not reciprocating his feelings. That was his best friend and he didn’t want to hurt him. He had already been through so much and now Eddie was about to absolutely crush him.
“Can you give us a minute to discuss?” You asked. “Order yourself a drink on us,” you handed him your card so he could start a tab and he took it, unsure of what was happening.
“S-sure,” he stuttered as he stood from the table. He knew it was a mistake. He should have just kept his big mouth shut. And now both of you were going to reject him and he was going to feel like shit. Well, he always did, but this was going to make the feeling so much worse.
“Eddie, what the fuck do we do?” You whispered, leaning towards him as you watched Buck order a beer, already looking so dejected. “God, I feel so bad.”
“So you don’t feel that way about him either?” He was hoping that that at least you did so Buck wouldn’t be completely rejected, but clearly that wasn’t happening.
“No and I feel horrible. What do we do?”
“We need to tread lightly,” Eddie replied. “He’s already so fragile.”
You waved Buck back over and he sat at the table, already knowing what was going to happen. You grabbed Eddie’s hand and you both looked at him with such pity. It was almost as if you were a married couple telling their child that you were divorcing. He felt so pathetic, resisting the urge to not hear your answer and leave, but unfortunately, he had ridden with you, so he didn’t have anywhere else to go.
“Well, we talked it over,” you turned to Eddie then turned back to Buck.
“You don’t like me,” Buck finished, lowering his head, no longer wanting to look either of you in the eye.
“We’re so sorry, Buck,” Eddie replied.
“Don’t worry about it,” he waved it off. “I’m just gonna head out if that’s okay.”
“Do you need a ride home?”
“Nah,” he stood up from the table, reaching into the pocket of his jeans for his phone. “Have a good night, guys.”
You collapsed into your chair, feeling defeated. You knew it wasn’t your fault that Buck’s feelings weren’t reciprocated, but you couldn’t feel like it was. You had gotten in between them, ruining anything that could have happened between them and now nothing would. At least, not according to Eddie with the engagement ring he had hidden in the drawer of his bedside table.
It was all so unfair. And now Eddie felt like the best friendship he ever had was ruined because feelings got in the way. And he wasn’t going to blame Buck. Not at all. It wasn’t his fault he had feelings for the both of you, and it certainly wasn’t his fault that neither of you felt the same way. God, it was all just so fucked.
-
You entered the firehouse the next morning only to see Buck flirting with the newbies right in front of the engine. And they were flirting right back. Hazel was giggling at whatever Buck had said and Benjamin was fiddling with Buck’s collar. You weren’t sure why, but the whole thing made him feel sick. You avoided them as you headed to your locker, Buck watching you the whole time.
He hadn’t meant to do use them, but they were right there. And they were interested. He wasn’t trying to make you and Eddie jealous or anything like that. He was just…lonely. He wasn’t going to do anything with them, just a little harmless flirting to mend his heart and then he’d be good.
Eddie entered the locker room to see that you hadn’t even put your stuff away. You were standing there, staring at Buck and the probies. He could see the anger in your eyes and if he wasn’t mistaken, he would have said you were jealous. But why would you have been? You had discussed the whole situation at length the night before that you weren’t going to pursue Buck and now there you were, looking like you were seeing red.
“Hon,” Eddie stepped over to you, grabbing onto your arm. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know,” you shook your head. You didn’t know why it upset you so much, but it did. You knew that you said you didn’t like him like that, but…maybe now you did. Maybe all you needed was a little jealousy to make you realize it.
“Have you changed your mind?” He asked, titling your head up so you’d look him in his pretty, brown eyes. Truthfully, Eddie had to. He had thought it over the whole night and was beginning to think that he was making a mistake. Especially seeing Buck with other people.
“I think so. But Eddie, I think he hates us.”
“I don’t hate you,” Buck replied and you both turned to him, eyes wide. You supposed that you and Eddie had been so caught up in your conversation that you hadn’t noticed Buck had been standing there. “I’m more than happy to do this if you are. We can just pretend like last night never even happened.”
You and Eddie turned to each other before nodding enthusiastically. The thought of adding another person to your relationship seemed strange, but since you were all game, it actually seemed kind of exciting.
“We’re in,” you both replied in unison.
“Good,” Buck nodded, striding over to the both of you, his voice now hushed. “I’ll see the both of you in the bathroom in five minutes,” he winked then fled the locker room, leaving the both of you buzzing with nothing but nerves and excitement. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad after all.
487 notes · View notes
scarlethexelove · 3 months ago
Text
Blinds Eye
Tumblr media
𝔓𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤: 𝔊𝔬𝔯𝔤𝔬𝔫!𝔑𝔞𝔱𝔞𝔰𝔥𝔞 ℜ𝔬𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔣𝔣 𝔵 𝔅𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔡!ℜ𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯
𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔡 ℭ𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 1810
𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: 𝔖𝔪𝔲𝔱, 𝔗𝔥𝔦𝔤𝔥 𝔯𝔦𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤, ℌ𝔞𝔦𝔯 𝔭𝔲𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔉𝔩𝔲𝔣𝔣, 𝔐𝔬𝔫𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔣𝔲𝔠𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤 ℑ 𝔤𝔲𝔢𝔰𝔰, 𝔑𝔬𝔱 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔱𝔬 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 ℑ 𝔤𝔲𝔢𝔰𝔰.
𝔄/𝔫: 𝔚𝔢𝔩𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔡 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔉𝔦𝔠. 𝔗𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔬𝔫𝔢 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔣𝔲𝔫. ℑ'𝔪 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔟𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔡 𝔟𝔲𝔱 ℑ 𝔱𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔡 𝔪𝔶 𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔡𝔢𝔰𝔱 𝔱𝔬 𝔡𝔬 𝔦𝔱 𝔧𝔲𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔠𝔢. ℑ 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔨 𝔦𝔱'𝔰 𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔶 𝔠𝔲𝔱𝔢 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔰𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔰𝔪𝔲𝔱. 𝔘𝔥𝔥𝔥 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔶 𝔟𝔬𝔱𝔥 𝔧𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔰𝔬 𝔠𝔲𝔱𝔢.
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN
Drops of water can be heard throughout the cave. A constant drip that never seems to stop. Nat turns when she hears footsteps entering her cave, her home. Hissing starts as she prepares from someone who may want to end her but she’s been around long enough, it’s hard to kill someone who can turn everyone to stone. 
“Nat?” You call out as your hands glide along the side of the walls. It’s the only way that you can make sure that you are going the right way. Nat instantly relaxes but rushes over to you. “Moya Lyubov, what are you doing here? You could have been hurt.” She holds your hips and you can hear the soft hisses of her hair which makes you smile. She helps you as always, placing your hands on her face as you feel small licks on your fingertips. “I had news that I just couldn’t wait to tell you.” You let your fingers drag across her features.
Nat is the most beautiful woman you have ever met. In a world that hates and fears her you see the soft and caring side of a woman who just wants to be loved. Though it’s hard to find someone who could stay around due to the fact that she could turn anyone to stone with just one look into their eyes. That was until you came along. Soon to be queen of the realm, but with a catch. You are completely blind. 
One day you had gotten lost in the woods. Stumbling into a cave and finding something or rather someone you didn’t expect. You were covered in mud and dirt, scratches and bruises littered your body. When you felt the walls of the cave you finally let yourself collapse and cry. How were you to get home? You were all alone in one of the most dangerous forests in the area. All you wanted to do was to get away from the pressure just a little bit. This is where Nat found you. You had wandered into her home. You didn’t fear the woman that approached you as she dared to turn you to stone, but was shocked when you looked up to her. Your eyes having a milky color to them. As they met hers you didn’t turn, you didn’t even flinch at the sight of her. That is until it dawned on her that you were in fact blind. 
A friendship blossomed from there, soon turning into one of love. You were looking for an escape and she was looking for companionship. As the time passed you always came to meet her on the same days. She would meet you part of the way so that she could protect you. Your love grew until you could never imagine your life without Nat. And that is why you are here, why you had to see her. You’re about to be crowned Queen and she is the only one that you want by your side. 
“Sit.” Nat leads you to the lonely couch in the cave. “What was so important that you ventured out here alone. I don’t know what I would do if you got hurt.” You give her a smile. She always worries for you but you also always worry that someone is going to hurt her and that is why you had to do something about it. 
You clear your throat as you prepare to explain, gathering all your words. “I want you to be my Queen.” Nat’s face morphed into shock. “Y/n I don’t think that is possible.” You shake your head. “It is. I will be crowned Queen soon and I want you by my side.” You pull a necklace out of your bag. “I searched everywhere in the kingdom to find an enchantress that would enchant this necklace so that you could go out. You wouldn’t have to fear turning someone to stone.” You search for her hands to take in yours, which she helped with. “You can have a life without fear. It would not change your appearance. You will always be the woman I fell in love with.” 
Nat ponders your words. How could a kingdom that so adamantly wants to kill her accept her as a Queen? She has harmed so many there is no way. “Your people would never accept me.” She takes one of her hands from yours and cups your cheek. You instinctively nuzzle into her hand. “I have done so much wrong in this world I do not deserve a place of power… I don’t deserve you.” A tear escapes her eye, a small snake licking the tear as it falls. 
“Natty none of that was your fault. I want to show the kingdom the woman I love. I want you by my side forever and always. If you so wish I can have the enchantress change the spell. I would give anything to have you as mine.” You plead. It’s not normal as a Queen to plead so desperately for something but she lets you be vulnerable with her. She doesn’t see you as the future queen she sees you for you and that is all you could ever wish for. 
The cave is silent other than the sounds of droplets. Nat takes her time as she mulls over everything. This is her chance to have everything she could have wished for. But she is scared. Scared that she won’t be accepted. Scared that those who oppose would hurt you. She would do anything to protect you. But she realizes that despite her fears you are the one for her. You went through the trouble to bring her something that allows her to leave. Allows her to live a life. 
Nat doesn’t let words speak to her decision. She pulls you into her lap to your surprise and kisses you deeply. The kiss is full of love and desire. You moan into her mouth as she devours you whole. When air becomes a necessity she pulls back leaning her head against yours. “Yes.” She pants. Your breaths mingling in the air between you two. “I will be your Queen, but I do not want to hide myself.” 
You smile and nod. “I would never want to hide your beauty from the world, my love.” You let your lips connect again as the love thickens the air. Nat swipes her tongue over your bottom lip as she asks for entrance. There is nothing in you that would ever deny her. You let your lips part as she pushes forward. As she explores your mouth you can feel as arousal pulls inside of you. Nat can feel as your wetness starts to coat her thigh. She swallows a needy whine as it escapes you.
“Aww so needy for me already my Queen.” Which only makes you nod. Nat moves her hands to your hips. Your dress flowing around your waist. She pulls you closer letting your pussy drag across her thigh. “No panties? Such a dirty little slut that likes to be used by me.” Your head falls back as the friction shoots a wave of pleasure through you. She does it again watching as your breath quickens and your chest heaves slightly. Admire as your breast almost spilling over the top. 
Your head snaps back up as she slowly starts to drag you back and forth against her thigh. “M-mm Natty.” She smirks hearing you whimper. As she helps glide you across her thigh and  picks up the pace. Your wetness spreads all over her thigh. Her eyes never leave you, admiring how such a Queen surrenders to her touch. 
“Come on detka. I can’t wait to see you make a mess all over my leg.” You move your hips with Nat’s movements. You feel her flex her thigh muscles under you. You let yourself fall forward into the crook of her neck. But she doesn’t let you stay there for long. One of her hands moving up your back. She lets her fingers lace through your hair and pulls you back up. You head being pulled back far as you let out a loud moan. “I want to see you sweet girl.” Nat leans forward connecting her lips to your neck. She sucks dark reddish purple marks on your skin. In the past you had never let her claim you like this, but soon she will be your Queen. “Who do you belong to?” 
You gasp and try to form words. She tugs at your hair, a burning sensation spreading through your scalp. “Yo-Yours. I-I’m yours Natty. Al-Always yours.” Nat is mumbling praises against your skin as she continues to mark your neck and chest. Everyone will see and know that their Queen belongs to someone and that it is her. You’re already so close to the edge so desperate to cum. The knot is close to snapping. Your hips jerk erratically against her thigh. Nat pulls back, taking a good look at you. She knows you’re close. She gives another tug to your hair. “Ah-Ahhh.” 
“I can tell you’re close my Queen. Do you want to make a mess? Want to cover my thigh in your sticky cum?” You nod frantically not knowing how much longer that you can hold on. She flexes her thigh again adding more pressure. “Cum for me my Queen.” She demands of you. That is all it takes for you to follow over the edge. 
Your body shakes as your orgasm rips through you. “Natty!” You cry out. Nat can’t help but pull your head back further, your whole scalp on fire now. But it feels so good. She is focused on the feeling of your juices leaking out your desperate hole. The way your breasts jiggle as your hips jerk. Your chest flushes, covered in her marks. You look so beautiful like this. She will never get used to seeing you like this. A powerful future Queen powerless to her. 
As you begin to come down from your high Nat slows your hips down until you have completely stopped. Your body slumps into hers as you pant, your head on her chest. She rakes her fingers through your hair soothing your scalp. You hum in delight feeling closer than ever. You let your eyes close thinking about your future with her. What the world has in store for you, the future Queen. 
Once you are finally calmed down you pull back. You gently raise your hand and Nat leads your hand to her cheek. “Let's go home, my love.” You pull the necklace back out and fiddle with the clasp. Nat clasps hers around yours and takes it from you. She is able to hook it around her neck as some snakes help guide her way. 
“To a new beginning my Queen.”
302 notes · View notes
stevie-petey · 8 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
episode one: suzie, do you copy?
Steve sighs. “Those kids are manipulating your power over me to get what they want.” “You call it manipulation, I call it bonding.”  Another sigh escapes Steve. “You’re going to be the death of me.” “And yet you stay.” You tease. “And yet I stay.”
Summary: you help nancy sneak through jonathans window, the party uses you for your "in" with steve, and you sorta become the reason dustin almost blinds lucas. meanwhile, steve tries, and fails, to make you his girlfriend (this will happen all summer), but have no fear ! dustin intercepts a russian code and makes everything even harder for everyone. what a sweet brother <3
Rating: general, swearing
Warnings: allusions to violence, swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n
Words: 9.6k
Before you swing in: shes here !!! season 3 of come home <333 im so excited for yall to read what i have planned, and thank you so much for being so patient as i planned the season out and started the chapters :) season 3 is pure chaos and i hope yall love what ive created, im proud of the changes i made <3333 we get some more insight into bug this season, which i also hope yall love !
-
June 27th, 1985.
A summer breeze gently creeps into Jonathan’s room, bringing the scent of dandelions and your childhood with it. It’s early evening and Jonathan hums to himself quietly, laying in his bed as he lazily skims through a comic he stole from you last week. You’re next to him as you carefully cut pieces of construction paper to glue onto the posterboard. Dustin comes home from camp in a few days and you want his welcome home banner to be perfect.
In the other room you hear the floorboards creak, followed by the sound of Joyce and Will laughing at whatever movie they’ve put on in the living room. Hearing their laughs makes you smile; it’s been so long since you’ve heard them laugh.
The tune that Jonathan hums now becomes a familiar one, and absent mindedly you begin to hum along with him. The cool summer night’s air encases the two of you, as if it senses that you want to freeze this moment forever. You’re in the Byers home, pressed against Jonathan’s side as you hum together an old song from when you were both fourteen and thought you had the world all figured out,
It’s nice, having this moment all to yourself with him. Moments alone with him have become few and far between, and it saddens you to think about.
There’s a new mall in town, Starcourt, and within a few months of it opening, Bookstrordinary has slowly been edging out of business. The entire town of Hawkins quickly fell in love with the mall, but with this love came the abandonment of downtown Hawkins.
Mrs. Waters can barely afford to have you work more than a few hours a day, so you’ve been spending your days visiting Nancy and Jonathan at their internship at the Hawkins Post or hanging at Scoops Ahoy to see Steve and Robin. While your friends have been lovely, you can’t swallow down the fear that you’ll lose your job by the end of summer.
As if somehow reading your thoughts, Jonathan puts down his comic and pokes your cheek. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask if you and Nance thought of anything else to try and save Bookstrordinary.”
You glue down a letter and try to distract yourself with the miniscule task. Nancy has been brainstorming a million ideas to try and help Mrs. Water, and while you appreciate her effort, it’s no use. Swallowing down even more dread, you shake your head at Jonathan. “No, nothing. Nancy offered to help organize a book drive to get more customers, but…”
“It wouldn’t be enough.” Jonathan finishes for you.
“Not nearly enough,” you sigh, desperately wanting to change the topic now. “But besides me possibly losing my job soon, how has yours been at the Hawkins Post?”
Now it’s Jonathan’s turn to sigh. “It’s… okay? I guess. I–I mean, definitely not what I expected it to be. The hours suck and the men are awful, but…” he shifts uncomfortably and looks away from you, embarrassed. “A job is a job.”
You rub his arm, understanding what he means. The Byers have always struggled with money, but ever since Will went missing two years ago and Jonathan lost his last job at the Hawk movie theater, it’s only gotten worse. They’ve tried hiding it, but last week you sneakily paid for Will’s ice cream at Scoops Ahoy while no one else was looking.
“I get it, bee.” You reassure him, hating that he even feels embarrassed in the first place.
Jonathan smiles and leans into your touch, appreciative of the fact that you know his family well enough by now to understand all he’s too ashamed to say. The two of you sit quietly for a few moments before he tries to lighten the mood with something else. “You excited for your birthday, bug?”
“Ugh,” you shake your head in disgust, which Jonathan laughs at. He knows you’ve never really liked your birthday. “Don’t remind me.”
“It’s in a few days, so you gotta suck it up.” Jonathan flicks your forehead and you swat your hand at him. “Besides, I bet $5 that Steve has some grand proposal planned for your birthday this year. He’s spent the entire summer drooling over you.”
His words make you blush furiously. “He has not–”
“He definitely has,” Jonathan tries to flick you again but you dodge, giggling. “I’m surprised he hasn’t publicly declared your love for you yet. I think there’s a betting pool going around the party.”
You gasp. “You’re lying!”
“Nope. Lucas and Max both lost last week, they bet mid June. Now it’s only me, Nancy, Will, and Dustin in the running.”
“What about Mike and El?”
“Mike didn’t want to encourage you dating Steve and the party agreed it felt unfair to have El gamble seeing as how she’s, ya know, still getting used to being in society.”
Despite yourself, you laugh. The idea is so bizarre and lovely, knowing how invested everyone is in your alleged love life, and it makes the worry you’ve been feeling fade away. “Can I join the pool? If I actually lose my job, I’ll need the money.”
Jonathan scoffs at you. “That goes against every gambling rule–”
“Please? I could be poor soon!”
“No, it’s not going to happen–”
“But–”
A knock on the window cuts you off. The two of you look up at the sound and find Nancy standing outside, waving and smiling. You hurry over to let her in, happy as always to see her. She’s been spending more and more nights at Jonathan’s, always sneaking in through the window.
It’s disgusting, and you couldn’t be happier for them.
Jonathan helps the girl climb through the window and greets her with a kiss to the forehead. “Hey, Nance.”
She smiles up at him with a shine in her eyes, and you know it’s time to leave. It’s getting late, anyways. You start to gather your banner supplies as you greet Nancy yourself. “Welcome back, Wheeler.”
“Hello to you too, Henderson.”
You wink at the girl and quickly ruffle Jonathan’s hair. “I’m going home, bee. My mom wants me to help prep Dustin’s room and I wanna have his banner done by tomorrow.”
“Bike home safe, please.” He says with a stern finger pointed at you.
Rolling your eyes, you give a mocking salute to Nancy and Jonathan. “Use protection, kids. I’m too young to be an aunt.”
Nancy gasps while Jonathan practically trips over his own two feet at your words, and you laugh. You leave them alone to compose themselves, closing the door to Jonathan shouting, “That wasn’t funny!”
You’re still giggling to yourself when you walk into the living room and see Joyce and Will sprawled on the couch. Their movie has just finished, the credits are rolling as you stand next to the TV and wave goodbye to them.
“You leaving so soon?” Joyce asks, surprised to even see you leave Jonathan’s room in the first place.
“Yeah, gotta finish up Dustin’s welcome home banner,” you hold up your supplies. Then, through the house’s thin walls, you all hear Nancy’s soft giggle. At the sound, you lean in close to Joyce and Will and dramatically whisper, “Plus, between the three of us, company came, so…”
Will’s eyes widen. “Yuck!”
Joyce chuckles, remembering how in love she was at Jonathan’s age back then. “Would I be a bad parent if I told Nancy she could just use the front door?”
“I don’t think so, but it’s fun watching them think they’re getting away with it.” You steal a piece of candy from the bowl Will had been eating out of, and he holds it up higher so that you can grab more. “Thanks, little bee.”
“You think it’s fun teasing Nancy and Jonathan now, Y/N, but when you’re the one sneaking in through a boy’s window one day…” Joyce shrugs, a twinkle in her eye. “You’ll understand.”
Will looks up at you with his own evil glint in his eyes, and before you can stop him, he turns to his mom and says, “I wonder how high Steve Harrington’s window is.”
You pretend to attack Will and he giggles as he flees his seat and runs to the other side of the living room. “Will Byers I will spit in your cookies–”
Joyce covers her mouth and gasps. “Y/N, are you hiding a boyfriend from me?”
Quickly you stop chasing after Will, terrified of the idea of the woman thinking you’d hide anything from her. “What? No! I’m not dating Steve–”
“Yet!” Will exclaims from across the room, but his retaliation is followed by a shriek as you chase after the kid again.
“If you keep this up, I’m telling Steve to stop letting y’all sneak into the movies!” You threaten as you chase the boy around the room.
Joyce watches in amusement, she’s never been able to take her eyes off of you when you’re with her boys. Will dodges a grab and you stumble, giving him just enough time to hide behind his mom’s armchair.
He pokes his head out at your threat, his eyes now uncertain. “You wouldn’t really tell Steve that, right?”
Catching your breath, you collapse onto the couch and shake your head at him. “No, little bee. I wouldn’t.”
You’d never do that to Will. He’s been so keen on spending as much time as possible with the party this summer, spending each and every moment planning DnD campaigns and biking all over Hawkins to spend mere seconds together. Will has spent all summer trying as hard as possible to be a kid again because so much of his childhood was stolen by Upside Down.
Will slowly gets up from behind the armchair and sits next to you, relieved. “Okay, good. We wanna see a movie tomorrow night and I already promised everyone you’d get Steve to let us in. That would’ve sucked.”
You and Joyce laugh at the boy’s response, and it feels so good to have this moment with the two of them. You allow it to wash over you for a second, the Byers home has always had such a comforting effect on you, before getting up and gathering your things once more. “I really should go, though. My mom is waiting.”
Joyce and Will say goodbye and tell you to be safe on your way home, and it warms something within you. As you bike down their driveway home, you inhale the summer night’s air and wonder, days before you turn seventeen, how much longer you have left of just this: being a little kid going home after a long day.
When you get home, Tews greets you with an angry meow.
The cat had been a Christmas gift for your mom from you and Dustin, seeing as how you accidentally killed Mews. Your mom had cried seeing the little kitten, and had cried even harder when your brother suggested the stupid name “Tews.”
But it stuck, and now Tews glares at you as you take your time feeding her.
In Dustin’s room you can hear your mom rustling around, frantically cleaning the place as if it currently isn’t the cleanest it’s ever been since the kid has been gone all month. After you feed Tews, you make your way over to your brother’s room to help with cleaning.
A few hours later, you’re laying in bed, exhausted from your long day. Dustin’s banner sits on your desk, right next to the phone that resides in the corner. Yawning, you glance at the clock, but when you see the time, you smile.
The phone rings.
“Right on time, honey.”
“Aren’t I always, angel?” Steve’s voice soothes your aching bones, his words like honey, the very thing you’ve come to associate with him.
Phone calls have become more and more common between you and Steve. You’re not sure when this tradition formed, but when you aren’t at Scoops and he isn’t at your house infiltrating your family, you’re on the phone with one another.
Hearing Steve’s voice puts you at ease, and it wasn’t long before you started calling each other before bed every night.
“How was your day?” You ask him, spinning the phone’s cable around your finger as you lay in bed.
Steve lets out a dramatic groan. “I swear, after you left today, Robin intentionally amped up her taunts. It’s like you’re her buffer or something. The second you leave,” you hear him snap his fingers, “she turns against me!”
“Robin would never do that.” Your voice is monotone as you say this, which only makes Steve groan dramatically once more. Robin would most definitely do that; you both know this.
“You two are the worst together.”
“Yeah, well,” you pull your blankets up to your chin and readjust into a comfier position. Your eyes feel heavy and Steve’s voice settles over your body. “Prepare for more pain tomorrow night. Will and the party have grand plans to sneak into yet another movie.”
Steve sighs. “Those kids are manipulating your power over me to get what they want.”
“You call it manipulation, I call it bonding.”
Another sigh escapes Steve. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
“And yet you stay.” You tease.
“And yet I stay.”
You bite back a smile; you can almost perfectly envision Steve laying in his own bed, phone pressed to his ear with his hair messy and eyes half lidded as he talks to you. You wish, more than anything, that you could be there with him right now; instead, you fall asleep to the sound of Steve’s voice, slightly raspy from his own exhaustion.
The next day you wake up to an empty house. Your mom has been spending her summer at Hawkin’s pool, like all the moms in town now do, to admire Billy at his new job.
It grosses you out to no end, and when your mom comes home some days swearing that Billy winked at her, you have to swallow down the phantom pain of his fingers wrapping around your windpipe.
By the time you get to work, Downtown Hawkins, as always, is a ghost town.
It’s been this way ever since Starcourt opened, and as you park your bike and lock it up, you can’t help but be unnerved by how quiet everything is. It was only a few years ago that you had to scream at a crowd of onlookers when Jonathan and Joyce had had that fight when they had found Will’s body in the quarry.
Now, walking slowly towards the front doors of Bookstrordinary, all you hear is silence in the once lively area. There are posters scattered throughout the old town, but they’re worn from the sunlight and torn from the weather. It’s a depressing sight.
Mrs. Waters greets you kindly when you walk in. “Hello, dear.”
“Hi, Mrs. Waters.” You give her a quick peck on the cheek as you quickly swipe your card to clock in. The bookstore is empty. “Any new shipments today?”
The old woman shakes her head forelonly. “Afraid not. We still haven’t sold last month’s shipment.”
You duck your head down and curse. This is the second shipment you weren’t able to sell. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Waters.”
“Oh, don’t be!” She walks over to you, her wrist shakes as she uses her cane. She has aged so much these last few years. “I’ve owned this store for thirty years, dear. I’m just happy that I can give you and Alex a job before you kids go off to college. Besides, it’s given me something to do these last few years without my husband…”
The woman’s eyes glaze over, something that has started to happen more and more now, and you grab her arm gently and give her a little shake. “Hey, Mrs. Waters. You still with me?”
She blinks, looks around in a confused daze, before breaking into her old smile once more. “Of course I am! Now, sort some books while I ward off those debt collectors with this cane.”
Despite the gravity of the situation, you can’t help but laugh at Mrs. Waters as she waves her cane around madly and gives you a wink. She hobbles back to her office and leaves you alone with the books and the ghost of Downtown Hawkins.
Only two customers come in during your four hour shift, and by midday Mrs. Waters releases you so that she can give Alex a few hours of work as well. She’s trying her best to keep you both hired for as long as she can, so she splits your hours. What she doesn’t know is that Alex now has a job at Hawkins’ pool and only comes into work because he just can’t bear to quit, and neither can you.
You bike to the mall, sad and needing a pick me up. Jonathan’s teasing from last night echoes in your head. How could you possibly think about your birthday when your boss is slowly losing both her mind and her business?
At the mall, your feet unconsciously take you to Scoops as they always do. This has become your favorite part of your dreary days: going to Scoops after work. The smell of ice cream greets you as you walk into the shop.
Robin sees you first and waves excitedly from the register. “Y/N!”
“It’s me!” You run up to the counter and lean over it to squeeze the girl into a tight hug.
There’s a loud crash from the backroom and just as you’ve pulled away from Robin, Steve bursts through the doors and leaps over the counter to join in on the hug. “Thank God you’re here, Robin was about to make me clean the tables.”
You giggle while Robin scoffs, pulling away. “It’s your turn, dingus.”
Steve, still hugging you from behind, hums. He begins to rock you back and forth in his arms, which only makes you giggle more, while he pretends to think about what the girl has said. “Nope, don’t remember it being my turn.”
Robin gives you a pleading look to back her up, and you reluctantly slide your arms over Steve’s and release his grip. He groans in complaint at the loss of your touch, and you roll your eyes at him as you turn around to now face him. “C’mon, let’s go wipe the tables so dear Robin can man the register in peace.”
Steve groans even louder now as Robin cheers, and you snatch the rag from his pocket and begin to wipe down the tables. He follows eventually, moaning and groaning as he cleans next to you, and you hit your hip against his. “Hey, at least you’re getting paid for this.”
“I give you free ice cream!” He argues, pieces of his hair falling out of his adorably dorky sailor’s hat that he has to wear for this job. It’s incredibly endearing, and as he hunches over to scrub at a particularly dirty table, his thighs strain against his probably too short shorts and you can’t help but stare at them. As you admire this spectacular show, Steve catches you and flicks your nose. “Quit ogling me and get back to your free labor, angel.”
“I wasn’t ogling, I was simply admiring.”
Robin gags from behind the register. “I can hear you guys, you know!”
You and Steve both stick your tongues out at her before going back to work.
The hours pass by quickly after that. The midday rush of tweens and teens alike infiltrate Scoops, so Steve helps Robin fling ice cream while you get comfortable in your designated booth in the corner. You’ve hidden a supply of comics underneath one of the booth’s cushions and you spend your time catching up on the latest Spider-Man arc.
You’re so engrossed in what you’re reading that you don’t notice a body slide into the booth next to you until the person speaks.
“Spider-Man, huh? Heard he’s a pretty cool guy.”
Startled by the stranger’s voice, you almost drop your comic in alarm. When you see that it’s just Jason Carver sitting next to you, you place a hand to your chest and inhale quickly, trying to settle your rapid heartbeat. “Christ, you scared me.”
“Sorry!” He genuinely looks apologetic, so you wearily set down your comic and straighten up.
You’ve never spoken to Jason before, even though you’ve been in the same classes ever since eighth grade. He’s always ran with the popular crowd, being a jock and all, and you’ve always ran with Jonathan. However, despite being on the basketball team, Jason has never been mean to either of you, so you figure it’s safe to offer him your attention.
“Can I ask why you’re here?” You cock your head at him, feeling your hair fall over your shoulders.
Jason smiles at you, in a sort of cute and charming way. “Stopped by to get my little sister some ice cream,” he points to a little girl next to him, who waves at you, and you wave back. “Then I saw you sitting here all alone reading one of my favorite comics, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to say hi to such a pretty girl.”
You blush at his bold words. You’ve never received such attention from anyone before, at least not anyone normal thanks to Billy, and you’re not really sure why Jason seems to be paying attention to you now. He’s had years to do this.
Jason sees your sudden shyness and chuckles. He stands up and offers you his hand. “Why don’t I buy you some ice cream, maybe you could help me show my sister around the mall–” Steve’s shoulder collides roughly into the teen’s, causing him to stumble into his sister’s ice cream cone and get chocolate ice cream all over the front of his pants. Jason looks up at Steve and balls his fists in anger. “What the fuck, Harrington?”
You quickly cover the little girl’s ears, though she giggles.
Steve shrugs as he looks at Jason. “Sorry, man. Didn’t see you there.” Then, he turns to you, and offers his own hand. “Anyways, I think it’s time for your daily free ice cream, angel.”
Jason’s eyes narrow as you accept Steve’s hand and spare him an apologetic glance. Before you leave, you dig some cash out of your overalls and hand them to him. “For your sister’s new ice cream cone.”
He sighs and accepts the money. Jason knows that Steve is still holding your hand as he stands behind you, but he has nothing else to lose at this point. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “I didn’t stand a chance, did I?”
Steve twirls you with your interlocked hands, causing you to giggle, and guides you to the ice cream counter. As he leaves, shouts behind him, “Not at all, buddy!”
You know you should feel bad, but Steve twirls you again and all you can do is giggle breathlessly as Jason Carver walks out of Scoops with his sister in tow.
Later that night the mall is busier than ever, and as you’re gossiping with Robin about Steve ruining Jason’s pants, you’re interrupted by Mike’s grubby little hand repeatedly hitting the bell.
Seems it’s time for their movie.
You flick the kid’s head, which Lucas, Max, and Will snicker at. “Enough!”
“Ow, Y/N!”
“Thanks,” Robin sends you an appreciative smile before she calls towards the backroom, “Dingus, your children are here!”
Within seconds, Steve opens the sliding windows and sighs when he sees Mike and the party. “Again? Seriously?”
“I warned you.” You say, shrugging at his annoyance. “Let the kids have some fun.”
Mike rings the bell again. “Do what Y/N says.”
Steve sighs in defeat and motions for the kids to follow him behind the counter. “Fine, but only because I’m nice, not because Y/N said so.”
“Right.” Everyone says, not at all believing him, which Steve chooses to ignore.
You all follow him through the back entrance of the mall. Checking to make sure the coast is clear, Steve waves the kids inside. “I swear, if anybody hears about this–”
“We’re dead.” The kids all respond, voices monotone with annoyance after hearing this threat a million times.
However, before they all leave, Will gently tugs at your hand to get your attention. “Are you coming with?”
You want to say yes, but then you catch Steve’s eyes and he silently pleads with you to stay, and you know you can’t tell him no. Squeezing Will’s hand, you shake your head. “Sorry, little bee. I promise I will next time, though.”
Mike scoffs in disgust, disappointed in you. Your relationship with Steve has always confused him, and you’ve only gotten closer to the teen since Dustin left for camp. He pities what the boy will think when he comes back to his sister all lovey-dovey with an idiot like Steve Harrington.
Once the kids leave, you go back into Scoops with Steve and settle into your booth once more. Grabbing your comic, you flip to where you left off before looking up at the teen and saying, “you have me for another hour. I can’t be out late tonight, Dustin comes home tomorrow and I promised Mike I’d be up at like seven to let everyone in.”
Steve salutes you and hops back behind his counter to help Robin with some customers. You smile at his antics and go back to reading. A few minutes pass, Spider-Man has just kissed MJ, before the lights above you start to flicker and then go out completely.
Everyone in the mall gasps and murmurs in a slight panic as they’re thrown into darkness. The hair on your arms stands up; you no longer trust lights that flicker. Robin catches your eye and gives you an odd look when she sees the fear on your face.
“Scared of the dark, Y/N?” She teases, not understanding what you really fear: what lies below Hawkins.
“That’s weird,” Steve mumbles to himself as he goes over to the light switch. He starts to flip the switch repeatedly, and you roll your eyes at him. He’s an idiot sometimes.
“That isn’t gonna work, dingus.” Robin says, looking over at you once more as if to silently ask, why are you attracted to him?
You shake your head at her as Steve continues to flip the switch, now only quickening his movements. He stares Robin down as if to challenge her. “Oh, really?”
Nothing happens, because contrary to what Steve may believe, he can’t fix what is likely (and what you hope) is simply a blackout from the summer heat. He flicks the lightswitch a few more times before the generators kick back on and Scoops Ahoy is once again lit up.
Steve raises his eyebrows at Robin and smirks at her, pleased. “See? Let there be light.”
You drop your head to the table, now also questioning why you’re attracted to the guy.
However, when it’s time to head home and Steve walks with you to your bike outside, he kisses your cheek and wishes you a good night; you know that this is the reason you’ve fallen for him: his kindness. With his kiss lingering on your cheek, you bike home.
When Steve gets back from saying goodbye to you, he’s met with a nosey Robin.
She stands against the counter with her arms crossed. There aren’t any more customers in the shop, they closed about ten minutes ago, and Steve was really looking forward to driving home and taking off his stupid uniform.
Robin, however, clearly has other plans.
“What did I do now?” He asks her, not daring to take any step closer.
“Why haven’t you asked Y/N out yet?” Steve’s eyes widen at the question and Robin knows she’s got him cornered. “I’ve spent hours with you guys, and it’s driving me insane that you haven’t manned up!”
“‘Manned up’?” Steve sputters out, completely offended.
Robin throws her arms out in front of her. “Yes! I mean, it’s so obvious that you’re in love with her and that she’s in love with you. Just… Just get it over with!”
Blushing, Steve slumps against the wall and closes his eyes. As much as it pains him to admit it, he knows that Robin is right. “It’s… complicated.”
“Well, go on.” The girl now hops on the counter and sits on it. “Explain it to me, then.”
“Y/N used to be in love with…” Steve stops, unsure if you’d want him to be telling Robin this. “Someone.”
She rolls her eyes. “Everyone knows she was in love with that Byers kid.”
“Right.” He clears his throat, uncomfortable with the reminder that at one point, everyone in Hawkins truly believed you were destined for Jonathan. “Well as I’m sure you know… He got with Nancy, who–uh, I had been with.”
“Okay, so what?”
“I–” Steve isn’t sure what Robin doesn’t understand. “I needed… time?”
Robin frowns. “After Nancy dumped you?”
“Technically I dumped her–”
“What does this have to do with Y/N?” Robin presses.
Steve groans and rubs at his eyes. He’s tired and wants to go home to call you and go to bed with your soft voice in his head. “Y/N understood that the breakup with Nancy hurt, and–well. She told me she’d wait for me. I guess. While I figured my shit out.”
Robin thinks this over for a minute. “Okay, I think I can understand that, but–wait, when did this all happen again?”
“... December.” He closes his eyes, bracing himself for the girl’s inevitable anger.
“Harrington!”
There it is.
“I know, okay?” Steve tugs at his hair in frustration. “I’m over Nancy, I’ve been over her since at least April, but… But what–what if Y/N has lost interest in me now? What if–maybe I made her wait too long, or–or what if she thinks she’s just Nancy’s replacement?”
Steve is rambling now, months of his anxious and insecure thoughts now spilling out. “I mean, it’d kill me if–if I ever made her feel second to anyone! She’s… She’s incredible and–God, I don’t even know why she likes me and I’ve spent this entire summer trying to–I don’t know… Figure out how to confess my feelings to her in a way that matters, ya know? Like, a grand proposal to show her that I’m crazy about her.”
Robin is silent for several minutes after Steve’s frantic spiel, he’s panting by the time he’s done. Then, finally, she says, “Dude… You’re way overthinking this.”
Steve winces. “I mean, her birthday is in a few days. I can… I can ask her to be my girlfriend then. That’s romantic, right?”
“You’re hopeless.”
“Dusty comes home today!” Your mom’s shrill voice wakes you up as she prances around the house getting ready. You roll over in bed and stretch, tired but excited to see your brother again after a month of being apart.
You get out of bed and press a kiss to your mother’s cheek before telling her to drive safe. Glancing at the clock, you see that you have just enough time to shower before the party arrives. The entire thing had been Mike’s plan and you were more than happy to help arrange everything.
After you’ve gotten ready, you hear three swift knocks on your front door and you answer it. “Right on time, Wheeler.”
Mike salutes you as he and the others walk in. El gives you a hug and Max high fives you as the boys start setting up the robots. The six of you get started on the plan: place all the robots in Dustin’s room, all hidden in various corners, and then use El’s powers to control them and guide him to the living room so that you all can surprise him.
It’s a brilliant plan, one only a Wheeler could think of.
It takes you, Lucas, Mike, and Will to successfully hang up Dustin’s banner that took you all week to make. There’s cursing, yelling, a few trips, and multiple snickers from El and Max while the four of you struggle to hang the thing, but eventually you manage to secure the banner into place in the living room.
Just as you’ve finished hanging it up, you hear your mom’s car pull into the driveway and you quickly shove the kids into a closet. “Quick! That’s my mom’s car, hide!”
Lucas yelps and Max punches his shoulder to shut him up, but thankfully you manage to close the closet door just in time before Dustin walks in. You hide behind the couch, quiet so as not to be seen by him, and carefully listen for his footsteps to retreat down the hall and into his room.
Once he’s gone, you scramble towards the closet and open the door. “Okay, he’s in his room, time for step two.”
“Did we all really have to hide in the closet?” Will asks, rubbing at his shoulder that had been shoved into a hanger.
“Yes, now shush and hide behind the wall so he doesn’t see you.” You order, and the kids all listen. Once you’re all pressed against the wall, you nod at El. “Ready?”
“Ready.” She responds, closing her eyes. Static fills the air and you hear one of the robots turn on in Dustin’s room. Then the other one turns on, then the monkey, and soon all the toys have been activated by El’s powers.
Mike pokes his head around the corner. “Okay, now start leading the robots here.”
Blood slowly begins to drip from El’s nose and you feel bad that she’s doing this, but the kids all look excited, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little giddy yourself. The noise from the robots grows louder as El draws them out from the room and towards you guys.
You hear Dustin’s uncertain voice following behind them. “It’s just a dream… You’re dreaming.”
Then Mike whispers to El, “Now!”
The robots all die in the center of your living room and slowly everyone starts to creep out from behind the wall. Lucas is holding his own poster he made and you hand everyone party noisemakers. Dustin is investigating the robots and doesn’t hear you stalk up behind him. Max silently counts to three, and on her signal, you all blow your party noisemakers and surprise him.
Dustin screams and immediately holds up his Farrah Fawcett spray, blinding Lucas as he continuously sprays it. The poor boy screams as well and the rest of the kids back away, out of the line of fire. However, as soon as your momentary shock wears off, you manage to snatch the hairspray out of your brother’s hand and save Lucas.
“Why is Farrah Fawcett your weapon of choice?” You exclaim, shoving a still screaming Lucas towards your kitchen so that you flush the spray out of his eyes. Max joins, rubbing soothing circles into the boy’s back.
“Why would you scare me like that after the hell we went through this year?” Dustin shouts back at you, clutching at his chest.
Dustin’s words make you stop for a moment and think. Huh. He has a point. “Yeah, we should’ve thought about that, honestly.”
“A little help here?” Lucas brings the attention back to him and you apologize, helping him once more to flush his eyes out. As you and Max tend to him, Dustin tells the others to follow him to his room so he can show them what he built at camp.
Max splashes some more water in Lucas’ eyes. “Better?”
The boy stands up and wipes his face, though he’s careful not to touch his eyes. “Still stings.”
“I feel like I should call someone…” You mumble, Your first aid knowledge doesn’t include Farrah Fawcett in the eyes.
Lucas blinks a few times and looks around. He leans in closer to Max’s face and for a moment you’re scared he’ll kiss her, but instead he chooses to be an idiot. “Is that a new zit?”
You wince and Max’s eyes widen in disbelief. She looks at you and you both seem to come to the same agreement: grabbing the back of Lucas’ neck, the two of you shove his face back into the water. “What is wrong with you?”
Lucas screams again and you leave Max to deal with him, laughing to yourself as you go see whatever creation your brother has brought home. You love Lucas, you do, but you have no idea how Max puts up with his boyish antics.
Inside Dustin’s room, you find him and the others hunched over a collection of wires and metal pieces. You walk in and join them.
“I would like you to meet Cerebro.” Dustin presents his creation, but you honestly have no idea what it’s supposed to be.
You squint at it. “It’s… Pretty?”
“What exactly are we looking at here?” Mike asks, unimpressed.
“An unassembled, one-of-a-kind, battery powered radio tower!” Dustin explains with a proud smile on his face.
A beat of silence passes before Will carefully asks, “So… It’s a ham radio?”
Dustin’s excitement only grows. “The Cadillac of radios.”
“Still not understanding, buddy.” You now voice, usually always lost when it comes to the more AV stuff the party likes.
“This baby carries a crystal-clear connection over vast differences.” Your brother clarifies for you, and you nod along. “I’m talking North Pole to South. I can talk to my girlfriend whenever and wherever I choose.”
You, Mike, El, and Will all look at each other in shock at the word that has just left Dustin’s mouth. “Girlfriend?”
Your brother nods, looking all smug, and you immediately berate him with a million questions. “What’s her name, where is she from, how long have you been dating. Tell me everything, now!”
“Relax, dear sister. Her name is Suzie, and I’ll explain in a second. We can even talk to her if you guys help me set Cerebro up on Weathertop hill.”
You’re the first to start grabbing all the supplies, giddy and eager to hear more about your baby brother’s girlfriend. It’s almost too good to be true. Mike, Will, and El follow along and soon you’re all holding materials for Cerebro as you follow Dustin out of the house.
As you all leave, Mike starts asking questions again. “Wait, so her name is Suzie?”
Dustin nods. “Suzie, with a ‘z’. She’s from Utah.”
“People from Utah actually exist?” You ask, which the others laugh at.
“Girls go to science camp?” Will asks.
You give him a stern look. “Anyone can go to science camp, Will.”
“What Y/N said,” Dustin continues explaining his girlfriend. “And Suzie does, she’s a genius.”
“Is she cute?” Mike can’t believe what he’s hearing.
“Think Phoebe Cates, only better.”
You re-adjust one of the poles for Cerebro in your arms. “Can we focus on her being smart instead? I think she sounds lovely.”
From the kitchen, Max sees the four of you open the front door as she helps Lucas with his eyes. “What’s going on?”
“We’re going to talk to Dustin’s girlfriend.” Will informs them.
Lucas whips his head up from the sink as he and Max exclaim, “Girlfriend?”
“I know, right?” You say, motioning them to follow.
“Alrighty, one scoop of chocolate. That’s a buck twenty-five.” Steve hands the ice cream cone to the girl he’s currently serving. She’s pretty enough, and when he notices her Purdue shirt, he can’t help but say something about it. “Ooh, Purdue! Fancy.”
The girl smiles and hands Steve her change. “Yeah, I’m excited.”
“Yeah, you know… I–I considered it. Purdue.” He types the code into the register and places the change inside. “But then I was like, you know what? I really think I need some real life experience, you know, before I hit college. See what it’s like.”
The girl and the friend she’s with exchange weird glances, and Steve knows he’s rambling like an idiot. “Uh, what I mean is… You’re girls, right? How would the two of you like to be asked out by a guy?”
“I’m sorry?” Purdue girl asks, looking at her friend, creeped out.
The cash register begins to beep at him and Steve hits it a few times to shut it up. “Sorry, uh… Anyways, say you’ve seen this guy every day for like, months, and feelings are shared, you know, as they are. Then time passes and the guy never makes the move because he’s, well, he’s an idiot–”
“Yeah, totally.” Purdue girl interrupts him and her friend giggles.
“Exactly, so… This was, like, so fun. This little chat. Anyways, what do you think? How would you want the guy to ask you out?” Steve puts on his most charming smile, hoping that the girls will say that maybe he isn’t crazy for waiting so long to ask you out. As he hands them their change, he drops part of it. “Oh, sorry about that. Uh…”
“Yeah, we wouldn’t wanna be asked out.” Purdue girl says as her friend snorts.
“Sure, but I mean, it’s complicated, you know? And–”
Purdue girl interrupts him once more. “No, I’m sorry, but it sounds like you missed your chance and you’re like, really weird.”
“But the guy isn’t me!” Steve shouts as the two girls leave, only embarrassing himself even more. He sighs, closes his eyes, and wonders how he got here.
“And another one bites the dust.” Robin announces from behind him. He turns around and watches as she marks another tally underneath the you suck column of her whiteboard. Next to it is the column you rule, which currently has zero marks. “You are oh-for-six, Popeye.”
Steve crosses his arms. “Yeah, I can count.”
“You know that means you suck and that Y/N isn’t the problem here, you are, right?”
“Yup, I can read, too.” Steve swallows down his annoyance, he knows he’s only done this to himself.
“Since when?”
“It’s this stupid hat,” Steve complains, as if this is the only appropriate answer. “I’m telling you, it’s making everyone think I’m some pathetic guy who can’t ask a girl out.”
Robin leans against the window. “Yeah, company policy is the reason that you’re an idiot for not asking out Y/N.” She thinks for a moment and tries to offer the teen some advice. “Ya know, it’s a crazy idea, but have you considered telling the truth?”
“What? That I’m hopelessly in love with her? Sure, I’m such a catch who couldn’t even get into Tech and whose douchebag dad is trying to teach a lesson, now making three bucks an hour with no future.” Steve laughs at himself. “A catch who, by the way, could’ve been hers back in December had he not been a complete moron? What a great truth.”
Robin frowns, now feeling bad for making him feel this way. While she doesn’t understand everything, she gets that Steve has had a difficult few months. Taking pity on him, she points out some girls approaching and tries to lighten his mood. “Hey, twelve o’clock! Maybe they’ll see your side of things.”
Steve turns around and sees the girls as well. “Shit, okay. Okay, I can do this! I’m going in.” He quickly snatches the sailor hat from his head and tosses it to Robin. “Screw company policy, I’m getting advice about Y/N one way or another.”
For a second, Robin has hope for him, but then he opens his Scoops Ahoy greeting way too loud and then immediately starts to ramble about you, and she sighs in defeat and marks another tally underneath the you suck column.
Hiking up a giant, grassy hill in ninety degree heat while hauling heavy equipment for a giant radio that your brother built to talk to his alleged long distance girlfriend definitely wasn’t what you had in mind today. In fact, you mourn the fact that you aren’t working today.
You’re only here to hear about Dustin’s girlfriend, honestly.
“Aren’t we high enough?” Lucas pants, voicing what everyone else is thinking.
Dustin shakes his head. “Cerebro works best at a hundred meters.”
“You know, I’m pretty sure people in Utah have telephones.” Max quips.
You wipe sweat from your brow and cringe, you feel disgusting. “Max, you’ve always been so wise.”
“Suzie’s Mormon.” Says Dustin, and you almost trip over a rock.
“You’re dating a Mormon?”
Lucas talks over you. “Oh, shit. She doesn’t have electricity?”
“Oh, that’s the Amish.” Max corrects him, and you get flashbacks to when you had to correct Steve about Nazis and Germans.
Will frowns at you. “What are Mormons?”
“Scary people–”
Dustin interrupts you. “Super religious white people. They have electricity and cars and stuff, but… Since I’m not Mormon, her parents would never approve.”
“Please don’t become Mormon,” you beg, dripping even more sweat. “I need someone sane in our family.”
“I won’t,” Dustin reassures you, though he has a far off look in his eyes. “But it’s all a bit Shakespearean, don’t you think?”
“Shakespearean?” Max laughs and you also can’t help but giggle.
Dustin doesn’t let your teasing deter him from reminiscing, though. “Yeah, like Romeo and Juliet.”
“They both die, Dustin.” It’s important to you that he knows this.
“But they were also star crossed lovers.”
“Who killed themselves.”
Below, Mike shouts to the rest of you, “Hey, guys!”
You all turn and you frown when you see just how far he and El are, both of them empty handed and dry as a daisy in the summer heat. When Mike sees that he has all of your attention, he taps at his watch. “This is fun and all, but, uh…”
“I have to go home.” El announces, her arm intertwined through Mike’s.
Dustin points towards the top of the hill no less than a few yards away. “We’re almost there.”
“Sorry, man. Curfew.” Mike shrugs, he isn’t really sorry and you all know it. He then grabs El’s hand and they descend down the hill, giggling and enamored with one another.
With a gleeful laugh, El says goodbye. “Good luck!”
Dustin looks down at his watch. “Curfew at four?”
You’re startled by the time, having assumed it was at least closer to six. Hopper may be an overprotective grump of a man, but not even he is crazy enough to enact a curfew for El at four in the afternoon. “That… Doesn’t sound real.”
“They’re lying.” Lucas explains, frustrated.
“It’s been like this all summer.” Will says bitterly, something that you take note of.
Max nudges you with her shoulder. “I think it’s romantic.”
“It’s gross!” Will voices again.
You bite your lip. “I don’t know, it’s your guys’ last summer before high school and…”
“It’s bullshit.” Dustin finishes for you, hurt in his voice. “I just got home.”
You flick him. “Language! But… I agree.”
Dustin watches with annoyance as Mike and El walk down the hill hand in hand. While he’s incredibly hurt that they’ve ditched him after being gone for a month, he remembers what Steve has taught him. People can suck, but there’s nothing he can do about it. “Well, their loss, right? Onwards and upwards, Suzie awaits!”
Max and Lucas groan at the idea of continuing the hike while you admire your brother’s perseverance. You’re proud of him for not letting Mike and El ruin his plans with the others. He’s excited to be home, and you’re more than happy to go along with whatever schemes he has planned.
You’re about to follow the others up the hill when you realize that Will hasn’t joined. You turn around and see that he has his hand around the back of his neck as he stands there, frozen. Then, he turns and faces Hawkins, stumbling back a bit as he does so, and you watch with a frown on your face.
“Hey, little bee, are you okay?” You gently place a hand on his shoulder, which seems to break him of whatever spell he’d been under.
“I’m fine,” he lies, and you don’t at all believe him. Will looks uneasy, as if he’s just seen a ghost. A part of you begins to worry, but you don’t push him. For all you know, it could be about Mike and his growing distance from the others.
“Well, c’mon, then.” You grab Will’s hand and together you ascend the rest of the hill.
At the top, Dustin drops his bag and sighs. “Made it!”
“Yeah, only took five hours,” Max pants out, stumbling the final few steps up the hill.
You collapse onto the ground and fight to catch your breath. “I run almost every morning. I think I lost a lung back there.”
“Why couldn’t we just play DnD?” Will collapses next to you.
Lucas grabs the flask of water, and as you struggle to get air into your lungs, you watch as he chugs the remaining water without a care in the world. Max watches as well, annoyed, and once again you pity Lucas. He’s such a boy.
Building the radio takes longer than expected. After your short five minute break, Dusin puts you all to work. There’s a million pieces to the thing and your fingers ache from screwing bolts into slots and extending poles. The sun has begun to set when you finally push the giant radio into an upright position. It’s easily fifteen feet high, and it’s an impressive sight that you can’t deny.
“Not bad, Dustin.” You admit, walking around Cerebro in awe.
“Ready to meet my love?” He asks everyone, and you all sit down next to him and eagerly await. Dustin switches the radio on. “Suzie, this is Dustin. Do you copy? Over.”
No one answers. All you hear is radio feedback.
Dustin scratches his nose nervously. “One sec. She’s probably… She’s still there.” Again, no one answers, and he ducks his head down in embarrassment. “Suzie… This is Dustin, do you copy? Over.”
More radio static follows in the absence of Suzie’s response.
You wince, despite trying to appear supportive. You can’t help it, this is embarrassing for your brother. While you don’t doubt that he has a girlfriend, you admit that this doesn’t look good for him. A long distance girlfriend who is hot and smart and magically needs a radio to communicate with? Unlikely.
“I’m sure she’s there,” Dustin tries to explain to you guys, now even more embarrassed. “It’s dinner time, and she’s busy…”
“Yeah, sure.” Lucas tries to be supportive and play along, which you appreciate him immensely for. Max nods as well, but Will just stands there silent.
“Maybe try again?” You encourage, trying to be nice.
Dustin nods and tries once more to contact Suzie, and it goes on like this for a while. He radios, no one answers, and eventually you and everyone else lay down in the grass as you wait for nothing.
Almost an hour passes and the crickets begin to chirp as the sun goes down and the moon comes up. Dustin is still trying to reach Suzie, but Max finally has enough. “Dustin, come on! She’s not there.”
“She’s there, alright? She’ll pick up.”
“Dustin…” You sigh, unsure how to tell him that you also want to leave. You had plans with Steve tonight, he invited you over to watch a movie and you should’ve left ten minutes ago.
Will lifts his head up from the grass. “Maybe Cerebro doesn’t work.”
“Or maybe Suzie doesn’t exist.” Lucas argues.
Dustin gasps. “She exists!”
“She’s a genius and she’s hotter than Phoebe Cates? No girl is that perfect.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose at Lucas’ words and wait for Max’s inevitable offense. He truly, deeply, is such a boy. As predicted, Max sits up and looks down at him with annoyance. “Is that so?”
Lucas shuffles up in panic, now realizing too late what he’s said. “I mean–you’re perfect! I mean, like, perfect–in your own way, in your own, uh, special way!”
“Lucas,” you hit his shoulder. “Stop talking, dude.”
Max laughs, pleased with herself. “Relax, I was teasing. I’m obviously perfect and Dustin is obviously lying.”
“Okay, no,” you now sit up. “He isn’t lying, it’s just a very unfortunate circumstance.”
Max doesn’t listen and instead offers Lucas her hand to help him up so that they can leave. “Come on, Don Juan.”
“Where are you going?” Dustin follows, not understanding yet what’s happening.
“Home,” Max huffs, before remembering that you’re there, too. “Bye, Y/N!”
“Bye,” you wave at them weakly, knowing that this will only upset your brother further as she and Lucas slowly head home.
Dustin stands next to you now. “Well, guess it’s just us and Byers, Y/N,”
Will now stands up and awkwardly avoids your brother’s gaze. “Um… It’s late. Sorry. Maybe tomorrow we can play DnD, or something fun, like we used to?”
Dustin clenches his jaw. You know he’s close to tears, and it breaks your heart to watch. You stand up and rest your arm around him as he responds to Will. “Yeah, sure.”
“Welcome home,” Will says sadly before he starts to walk down the hill as well.
You anxiously watch as he leaves. “Be careful, please!”
“I will!” He reassures you, knowing that you’re still terrified of losing him again.
As you watch Will, Dustin whispers to himself, “Yeah, welcome home.”
His words break your heart even more. Forgetting about your anxiety over Will, you wrap both arms around your brother and hug him. He had been so excited earlier to be home and see all his friends after a month of being away. You understand that the kids are all growing up, but you had always hoped that they’d grow together, not apart.
“You still have all of July and August,” you try to comfort Dustin, desperately hoping that you aren’t lying to both him and yourself. “I’m sure they’ll come around.”
Suddenly the radio attached to Cerebro switches on and Dustin pushes you off of him so that he can get to the radio in time. He stumbles over his feet and trips, and you watch with amusement and curiosity.
He manages to finally untangle himself from the radio and answers. “Suzie, Suzie, is that you?”
You sit down next to Dustin and lean in close to the radio, excited to finally meet your brother’s girlfriend. Instead, you hear what sounds like a foreign language. It’s distinct, slightly muffled, but you know what it is. “Is that…”
“Russian.” Dustin whispers.
Everything changes, then.
You force Dustin to go home immediately. He wants to stay, see if he can find any more hidden messages, but you refuse. He’s elated, talking a mile a minute as you bike home, theorizing every possible answer as to why you heard Russian in Hawkins, Indiana.
“Dustin!” You yell at him, terrified that someone could be listening. “Not here, okay?”
He deflates, but pedals home alongside you.
You’re terrified as you bike home, a million thoughts are running through your head. You don’t at all like what any of this could mean; you’ve had enough sketchy government facilities and secret government agencies to last you a fucking lifetime.
When you get home, you order Dustin to go to bed.
“But Y/N, we’ve got to tell someone about this–”
“Tomorrow, okay? Just, please, Dustin.” You’re exhausted and confused and overwhelmed.
Your brother senses that you’re at your limit and reluctantly backs down. “Fine, but can we at least tell Steve tomorrow?”
Hearing Steve’s name puts something at ease within you. Tomorrow, you’ll go to Scoops with Dustin and ask Steve what he thinks about all of this. Comforted by the fact that you now have a plan forming, you begin to calm down. “I promise we’ll tell him tomorrow, okay?”
Dustin nods and heads to his room, wishing you a good night. When you hear his door click shut, you slowly head to your own room. You’re terrified, and there’s only one thing you want to do to lessen the fear that scratches at your throat. After crawling into bed, you call Steve.
He answers immediately. “Y/N? Is everything okay?”
“I’m fine,” you breathe out, his voice like an exhale of a summer’s day. “I… I’m sorry I missed our movie night.”
Steve laughs softly. “Angel, I’m just happy you’re okay. I was getting worried there.”
You close your eyes. “It’s been a weird day.”
“Did something happen?” Steve senses that there’s something you aren’t telling him, which worries him.
“Dustin… He may have found something, but I just–I don’t want to talk about it just yet. I… I don’t want to jinx it,” you squeeze your eyes tight and will away the fear you feel. “I–I’m just, I’m so exhausted, you know?”
“Y/N, are you in danger–”
“No,” you dispel any fear that Steve may feel. “I promise I’m okay, I just really need to hear your voice right now, okay? Can you just talk to me, please?”
“Of course I can.” Steve agrees without any questions asked, and you love how he trusts you enough to do this.
Exhaling the remaining fear, you allow the warmth from Steve to hold you through the night. “Thank you, honey.”
“Anytime, angel. You know that.”
And you do.
Steve begins telling you a story from today, how he dropped an ice cream cone on a toddler and enraged the mom, and you fall asleep that night to the sound of his voice over the phone.
-
⌑ series masterlist
⌑ if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist, just let me know :)
⌑  taglist: @siriuslysmoking @sheisjoeschateau @thytorturedpoet @innercreationflower @juhdoche @frostandflamesfanfic @goosy-goose @quinnsadilla @munsons-queen @stefansring @rice-elephant @bex22109 @bitchkeery @bex22109 @officerrrfriendly @kazunish @idkitsem @emilieluckwood @ryoujoking @criesinlies @tagakalat @dcnerd98 @sucker-4-angst @kitdjarin1 @onecojg @innazra @areiofhope @spaghetittied @cultish-corner @g8sstuff @videogamesandpoorlifechoices @hsllfirescoops @l0ve-0f-my-life @newyorkangelbaby @aliceespector @chervbs @poppet055 @bookkeeperlove @bellenotthebeast @swiftieblyth @​ladyobscurus @moon-flowerss @estaticheart @dreamingofts18 @lanxsee @thecapricunt1616 @aheadfullofsteverogers @marvel-and-music @angie2274 @thescoopstroopers @xuimhao @rh1nestonecowg1rl @shelby-ren @carinacassiopeiae @eddiemunson-86-baby @ribbetzetoad @harryssideboobz
813 notes · View notes
aperrywilliams · 8 months ago
Text
I'm Sorry I Couldn't be Here for You Sooner (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)
Tumblr media
------------------ 
Author Masterlist
------------------
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.
Summary: You have one of the worst days in a long time at work. When Spencer returns from an assignment to the BAU and sees your current state, he must do something.
Word Count: 2.8k
Warnings: Frustration/Hurt/Comfort. Just a self-indulgent rant. A lot of cuss words. Spencer is the best boyfriend in the world.
A/N: I just need Spencer to hold me now.
-----
The clock ticks and ticks, but the time seems to stand still. Even if you don't know how long you have been looking at that piece of wood, plastic, and metal, it feels like an eternity.
In the distance, a voice keeps throwing out words and sentences to which you should pay attention. However, even if you tried, looking at the clock on the wall is still more interesting than hearing Hotch talking about new protocols for field agents.
Still lost in your head, you don't notice the meeting is over and people are starting to leave the room. Only when someone squeezes your forearm. It's JJ.
"Are you okay?" she asks, eyebrows furrowed. You look at her and blink a few times.
"Uh- yeah," you mumble. 
Are you okay? No, you're not. But why bother others with that?
On second thought, this may be a chance to spill what's on your mind. JJ is usually a forthcoming and wise person. 
"Well, actually-" you begin, but before saying anything else, JJ cuts you off.
"That's nice. Because I want to ask you if you can babysit Henry tomorrow night. Will invited me to a romantic dinner, and our babysitter is sick. Hope it doesn't make much trouble to you?" the blonde probes.
Okay, you didn't expect that.
Not in the mood to turn the subject back to you, you say yes, and after thanking you, JJ quickly leaves the conference room. Alone with your thoughts for a few seconds, you wonder if the tightness in your chest isn't an exaggeration. You decide to forget about it and go back to your desk.
Opening a folder with the information on the last case, you are ready to write your report. But not too so far on it, Emily approaches you.
"Hey, how are you?"
You have doubts about how to answer the question. A few minutes ago, when JJ asked, you lied to her, and she didn't even notice. Maybe it's good to be honest.
"Actually, not so good," you sigh. And Emily raises an eyebrow. 
"Yeah? What happened?"
"I just don't know, I don't feel good," you try to explain. But you're not sure how to do it either.
"I'm sure it's something you can manage," Emily muses. "Look, whatever it is, have a drink when you get home today, relax a little, and I bet you'll be as good as new tomorrow!"
You open and close your mouth several times, trying to get a word out, but nothing comes to mind. 
A drink and relax? Is that simple?
You let out a hum, and that's enough for a response to Emily.
After wishing you good luck, she heads down the hallway, presumably to Garcia's office.
It's clear that Emily didn't grasp your actual emotional state, but you don't blame her either.
The last case was hard for everyone, so there is no reason to take it personally.
Focusing on your report again, you expect the sour mood surrounding you to fade eventually.
To finish your paperwork, you need to make copies of the reports. So you get up and head to the copy machine. After carefully placing the papers in the tray, you press the start button. When you think it will start copying, the machine stops mid-scan. You frown, and after a few seconds of nothing, you press the 'start' button again. Nothing. You do it again. And again. It's not working, and you feel your blood running hot.
By pressing the button again and again, anger comes.
"What the fuck is wrong with you stupid fucking machine!"
It's not enough to swat with force the button panel; now you're kicking the machine out of pent-up frustration.
"Whoa, whoa, stop right there, pretty girl."
Morgan steps between you and the machine, putting distance with his palms. And that's when you realize your outburst. Panting and still with the heat of rage on your cheeks, you are not yet satisfied.
"What the fuck, Morgan. Now you're defending a fucking copy machine?!" You hiss. Derek narrows his eyes to assess your current state. He's seen you mad, but it usually goes away easily. You are not a dense person.
"Okay, what's wrong, pretty girl? Since when do you unleash your frustration with pretty boy on inanimate things?"
Pretty boy. Spencer. Your boyfriend. Today, your boyfriend is conducting a cognitive interview with a convict in a DC jail—Hotch's orders. You wish he were here.
Morgan knows you usually laugh at his jokes, and even when you are in a bad temper, they help to light the mood.
Not this time, though.
"Don't talk about Spencer or me like that!" You snarl. "He doesn't have to do with any of this!"
Morgan doesn't like you are talking to him. Folding his arms over his chest, he let out an unamused scoff.
"Come on, don't you think you're overreacting here? Was this whole outburst only for a joke? What, are you four years old?"
You want to keep yelling, but a lump forms in your throat that is making it difficult for you to speak or even breathe. Morgan doesn't even wait for you to say something.
"You know what?" Morgan continues. "If you cannot stand the pressure of this job right now, maybe you should go home."
With that said and shaking his head in disappointment, Dereks leaves you there.
Stumped. Frustrated. Broken.
All the anger from moments before turns into an almost uncontrollable urge to cry. What have you done to these people? They are supposed to be your friends, your family. They are supposed to understand you and support you when you need them. And now that it's the time, they've only ignored you, minimized your problems, and even questioned your worth. Maybe Derek is right, and you should go home.
Defeated, you're strolling to your desk when Hotch peaks out of his office and gestures you to come.
Great, just what you needed now.
When you walk into your boss's office, he is already sitting in his chair, sternly looking at you.
"I won't ask you what's wrong with you today because it's your private life. However, I must remind you we are all professionals on this team. If you need time off, you have the right to get it, but I will not tolerate disrespect, like when you are distracted as I give fundamental instructions. If you don't pay attention, it could affect your work in the field and even put the lives of innocent people at risk."
If you didn't feel trampled before, now you feel like a ton of dirt was dumped on you.
You know Hotch can be sharp with words, but his ultimate goal is always to look after the team. But why does it feel like you're not part of that team right now?
"Do I make myself clear?"
With no more energy left in your body, you just let out a 'yes, sir.' Without waiting for another response, he sends you back to your desk.
It's already noon when you resume your work. Your mind spins at a mile an hour, and although it's hard, you force yourself to concentrate enough to get your job done, so at least the salary they pay you is worth it. 
Like a mollusk in its shell, you close yourself in that bubble and stop paying attention to your surroundings. It's your safe place—only you. 
In the distance, you feel your coworkers come and go. Never do you look up. Time goes by, and your throat feels dry from not speaking for hours.
Before everyone starts planning lunch, you are already picking up your lunch bag.
Social interaction is out of the table, so you are secluded in the building roof where an improvisated garden has benches. You sit alone, and the breeze helps to steady your breathing. As you open your Tupperware, you tentatively plunge the fork into the almost-cold pasta.
Even so, you're better here than in the bullpen minutes ago.
-----
Spencer walks through the doors of the BAU. It's 2 in the afternoon, so hopefully, the team is still having lunch in the conference room. Slightly worried that he wouldn't be able to reach you when he wanted to let you know he was on his way, he assumed that you had a lot of work and that your phone was mute.
Arriving at the conference room, Spencer scans the place and immediately catches something odd. You are not there. JJ, Prentiss, Morgan, Rossi, and Hotch are, though.
With an eyebrow furrowed, he asks, "Where is she?"
His teammates perk their heads up.
"Hello to you, pretty boy," Morgan teases.
"How was the interview?" JJ asks.
"Did you eat? You still can sit with us," Prentiss offers.
"Did you get the interview done?" Hotch asks with a raised eyebrow.
Spencer gets an uneasy feeling about what's going on. He knows you weren't feeling so okay this morning, and even if he tried to convince you to take a sick day, you didn't let him.
"Neither of you responded my question," Spencer points, voice harsher than when he asked first.
"(Y/N)? I thought she went home," Morgan muses.
"Why would she do that?" Spencer questions, alarmed. "Something bad happened?"
"She said she was okay when I asked earlier," JJ explains. "Maybe she has an errand to do."
"She was way distracted when we were at the meeting in the morning. She didn't listen a thing of what I said," Hotch adds.
"And you sent her home?" Spencer directs his question to Hotch.
"No, I didn't. She didn't ask it either when I called her to my office."
"You called her to your office? Did you reprimand her?" Spencer asks in disbelief.
"Of course, I did it, Reid. She did something disrespectful to the team," Hotch defends.
"And considering her rage moment directed to the copy machine, maybe it's better if she went home," Morgan supplies.
"Why are you being so dramatic, Reid?" Emily questions, very confused about why Spencer is so upset.
Spencer huffs, frustration running in his veins.
"Are you fucking kidding me right now? Did you ever realize she wasn't doing okay and nobody took her seriously? Yeah, sure, she said she was okay, but did you really check on her? Did you really ask her what was wrong? Did someone listen to her?"
The people in the room go silent after Spencer scolds them. 
Did they help in any way?
"You are unbelievable, and you call yourself profilers," Spencer huffs, turning to exit the room in search of you.
"What are you doing, Reid?" Hotch asks. No turning around to face his boss, and halfway out, Spencer replies.
"The thing you should have done in the first place. And I don't care if it doesn't fall protocol, I can give you my resignation letter tomorrow."
-----
When Spencer reaches the building roof and sees you sitting on one of the benches, he lets out a sigh of relief. He suspected you might be there, considering your things were still on your desk.
You can't see it since your back is turned. Your eyes look at the horizon without focusing on anything in particular.
The breeze is nice despite the November weather in Virginia.
Not wanting to scare you, Spencer slowly approaches you as he clears his throat. You turn around and see him standing a couple of meters away from you, but close enough to see your eyes red from crying.
You know he noticed it, and you avert his gaze.
You don't like the idea of ​​looking vulnerable right now. The morning was already catastrophic enough to explain your current state of mind to Spencer.
Spencer is a man of many words. He is known for his diatribes on any topic at hand. So you expect some kind of rant or even some statistical data about what could be happening to you.
But contradicting his very nature, he just silently approaches, takes your hand to get you up from the bench, and pulls you into a tight, comforting embrace.
And for the first time all day, you feel like you can actually breathe, and your chest isn't tight anymore. Words are not necessary; just being held like that is enough for now.
Spencer kisses the top of your head lovingly.
"I'm sorry I couldn't be here for you sooner. I'm sorry you had such a horrible morning," your boyfriend laments.
You shake your head, still buried in his chest.
Tears fight to come out from the corners of your eyes, and you no longer want to hold them back.
"Let it out, baby. Just let them out."
And that's what you do. For the first time all day, you allow yourself to cry without holding back. Spencer has you the entire time, rubbing your back soothingly.
"I don't know why I feel so bad, Spencer. I don't understand," you muffle your words into his embrace.
"It's okay, love. You don't have to explain to me, or anyone for that matter. There are days when we are not okay, and it's completely valid. Never think you don't have the right to."
Hearing Spencer say that relieves some of the pressure on your head, but you can't help but think about your teammates' words throughout the morning.
Separating yourself from Spencer to look at him, your eyes still denote your inner struggle.
"What if they are right? What if they are right when they say I shouldn't make so much fuzz and rather think about doing my job well?"
Spencer cups your cheeks so you can look at him.
"They are not. Okay? By any means, you are the most professional person I have ever met in my life. Not only that, you are also the most compassionate, selfless, and willing to help to the fullest extent of your capacity. Does JJ need help babysitting Henry? You don't think twice. Does García need assistance organizing a girls' night? You are the first one to be there. Does Hotch need to finish a stack of reports in one night? You offer to help him. Does Derek need a backup to kick his way into a place and catch the unsub? You're the first to watch his back."
You are indeed like that, and you do all that. But you've never seen it as something extraordinary. For you, being part of a team and a family means all that and more.
"And that doesn't even scratch the surface of what you have been to me.
My love, you have been the person who has entitled me to open my heart and love without reservation. You have taught me to trust and that asking for help when you feel bad is okay. You are the light of my life, and I swear I'll do everything in my power so you can see the wonderful person you are and that you deserve all the love and support in the world."
Without a doubt, Spencer has something with his words and eloquence. How can you not believe him? The veil of doubt indeed emerges from time to time, but having someone who is by your side showing you what is really important makes the doubts not cloud your path.
A shy smile appears on your face, your eyes filled with gratitude.
"There she is," Spencer whispers, stroking your cheek with love and never breaking eye contact.
"Maybe I should have listened to you this morning and called in sick," you sigh. Spencer kisses the top of your nose.
"I know you weren't going to do it anyway." 
You giggle because he's right. Spencer knows you too well.
"Lunchtime is almost over. We should come back to work," you remind him. Spencer pulls a face, and you raise an eyebrow at him. "What was that?" You inquire.
Spencer laughs nervously. "It's just I may or may not have made a scene in the conference room earlier, and I may or may not have offered my letter of resignation to Hotch if he didn't allow me to come find you."
"You did what? Spencer, oh my God!" you start laughing. "Does that mean there's a chance we'll both get fired today?"
Spencer thinks about that for a second.
"Honestly? I don't think Hotch would risk losing his two best agents," he decides, winking at you.
"Hope you're right, Dr. Reid. Hope you're right," you voice, grabbing his hand in yours and making the way back to the sixth floor.
------------------
Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers 
623 notes · View notes
katiascraft · 2 months ago
Text
“I need to confess. I told you a lie. I said you were the love of my life.” | LN4
part 2 of this.
Parings: Lando Norris x Ex!Bisexual!Reader.
Summary: after leaving Lando, you realized what real love was like. Unfortunately, he didn’t and all he could think about every time he looks at his new parter is you.
Now playing: “L’AMOUR DE MA VIE” by Billie Eilish.
Word count: +2k.
Warnings: angst (?) insults (?) cursed words. Not a native English speaker so there could be (so many) errors. Not proofread.
Author’s note: maybe this sucks. well I don’t know but I just came to this idea for a part 2 no one asked of this but yeah. Reader deserved a happy ending ❤️‍🩹 Don’t forget to like, comment or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)
MASTERLIST
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
It’s been 10 months since the worst day of your life. The day you had enough of the place that you weren’t enough for. The place who made you so miserable and insecure. The place that broke you in so many pieces it turned you to dust. The place where you never want to go back to.
It’s been the hardest 10 months of your life. Mourning the life you thought you would have forever was the worst process you got yourself through. How you had to not only get over your ex, Lando, but also the you that wasn’t gonna be you anymore for the rest of your life. And that was the hardest past. Let go of who you were when he was in your life and let go of all the memories. It was like learning to be a functioning human being again. And you also thought you couldn’t bear with being single. You felt so ashamed of not remembering how to approach people or even how to feel attractive yourself. You were nothing after that day.
For your family and friends was heartbreaking too. Not only because they had to mourn lando that now was out of your life so then their lives as well, but also the you they knew before and during the relationship. And now learning to know this new you.
It was hard for the first 3 months but thanks to your friends and intense therapy sessions you eventually got better. You started discovering a part of yourself you didn’t know existed. Leaving lando changed you not 180 degrees but 360. You changed your style, your hair, your humor, your attitude. You spoke up. Had a strong opinion. You started being more selective with people and for a long time you remained single. you worked on you. Trying to give yourself back everything that relationship took away. You made new friends and moved to New York to start a new life. In that city you found you loved music and storytelling so you started a musical career on YouTube and became kind of famous. You also went to university. And now you’re a content creator, you upload vlogs of your everyday life and opinions. You love fashion like crazy and post your outfits on Instagram and TikTok along with your music. And you are back into being happy. Not only with your life but with yourself. You love who you are and what you do for a living. There’s no one you have to follow or leave everything behind. You live now in your own world where you are the thing that matters the most. You feel so grateful you made it through.
But you were also madly loved for who you are. Tania was your new girlfriend. You didn’t even know you liked girls as well. You tried with guys but none of them felt right for you until you met Tania in a little music shop two blocks away from your apartment. It was the most romantic way of meeting someone you believed. You two went to the same shop to buy the same album and oh coincidence of life there was only one copy of it. And that’s how you met. She gave it to you and so you offered her to come to your place and listen to it together. Yeah you offered that to a stranger but she looked so beautiful. You felt something so weird you haven’t ever felt before in your life. His blonde hair so shiny and his brown eyes so deep you could drown in them with no problem. She was gorgeous.
In fact, you never felt so seen until you met her. The way she actually listened to what you had to say. The way he understood your insecurities and tried to help you and figure it out together. The way you could laugh for hours non-stop until you went dry from crying of laughter. When you felt how you felt with her you knew Lando didn’t matter at all. He never loved you for who you were. He never appreciated all of the sacrifices you did for him just because you thought you loved him your entire life. The way you listened and supported him anywhere, anyhow, whenever. You gave everything for him, but what about you? He never noticed you. He never saw you. He never cared about you.
Realizing that hurt at first but then you understood it was the wrong person at the wrong time. Because if you hadn’t been through what he put you through then this wouldn’t be your life and you wouldn’t be this loved.
But you know what they say, life’s a bitch so here you were again in Monaco for Alexandra’s birthday. It was gonna be a huge event in a yacht for all of her friends. So of course you knew lando was coming and you also knew because of Alex he had a new girlfriend as well. You weren’t intimidated by him but you felt a little insecure you know. You felt rather uncomfortable. But Alex was your friend and she was so nice she invited Tania as well and few of your hometown friends so you wouldn’t feel left apart. Alex knew you so well. You always have struggled with fitting in. She was really sweet. But at the same time you were also so excited to see the guys again. You talked to Pierre and kika. They were so excited to see you. You missed them all of course you did. Moving countries and having an ex who drives along them made things ticky. It was complicated to meet and hang around outside weekend races during the year and of course you wouldn’t assist knowing lando was there. You didn’t want to see him. So tonight is fireproof. If you see him again and survive then the paddock should get ready to see you every now and then with you gorgeous girl.
She knew about Lando of course. And she was the most supportive angel to you. Of course she also hated him. And probably could kill him if you let her. But she won’t just because you asked her.
you were going by taxi. You didn’t have your car because you were on the other side of the world and you wouldn’t waste money renting one just to go to a party in a yacht. You didn’t care about appearances anymore. You got to the harbor just in time. Most of the invited guests were already there. You got there with Tania in your hand and your group of friends. You looked around seeing so many familiar faces and the first one to run to you and hug you tightly was Kika followed by Pierre. You giggled on her shoulder hugging her as well.
“Oh my god girl you look fucking beautiful what the fuck I missed you so much” she said on your shoulder so excited to see you. It flattered your heart.
“I missed you too, my love” you said sweetly. And when you pulled apart you hugged Pierre and introduced Tania to them. They were always so warm. You really missed them. A few minutes passed and you were talking along with a lot of the formula 1 drivers and their partners just like the old days. You felt so part of it. And so loved. And all of them were so nice to Tania. She was so excited that she met Max and he posed for a picture with her that it melted your heart completely. You didn’t see lando by the way. He hasn't arrived yet. But Carlos didn’t either so probably they were coming together. After 15 minutes, the birthday girl finally arrived with her prince in hand and all of the guests were there. The yacht was ready as well. Lando was there with her. You knew her of course you did. She was friends with Max and Kelly. Of course you remember her. Lando is so predictable. You wanted to laugh in his face but you didn’t. You didn’t even say hi. You didn’t want to and you guess he didn’t either because he barely looks at you when he arrived.
(…)
The party was formidable and you were already drunk laughing and posing. Kika was trying to take a couple of pictures of you and Tania and the sunset behind you. It was a beautiful picture.
“Oh my god you’re so beautiful” she said finally ending the photo shoot so she showed you the pictures.
It felt so satisfying being back and not giving a fuck about Lando. All of the guys were so welcoming and sweet like they always had been with you.
Tania had to go to the bathroom. “You want me to go with you titi?” You called her by her nickname you created. She smiled and gave you a kiss on your lips.
“I’m okay baby. I’ll be right back” she said and after giving you one last kiss she disappeared through all of the people around heading to the bathroom. You stayed with your group of friends dancing around and having fun. Alex was there two sharing with all of us. You loved that woman. She was one of your closest friends who was there with you to hold you and listen. She knew what it was like. But she is loved unlike you weren’t. You were enjoying yourself until you heard someone clearing their throat like exaggerated. You turned to find lando clearly drunk looking at you with puppy eyes yet so dark. You of course didn’t like to see him.
“Y/n we need to talk” he said almost in a whisper so no one could hear him but you. Inside you felt disgusted. His voice was once your favorite sound, one that could send chills down your spine. Now it kinda repulses you.
“No, we don't need Lando. Just pretend I don’t exist” you said clearly upset by his behavior.
“But I can’t y/n. I couldn't stop looking at you since I arrived. I can’t get you out of my head. I tried. But I don’t know what else to do!” He was clearly drunk. And you were unbothered to be honest. You noticed Carlos and Oscar heard him and looked at you. You just rolled your eyes at lando.
“Then it’s not my fucking problem lando. You had me but you couldn’t give a damn about me. Sorry it's too late. I’m happy now and I am loved” you spitted about to turn when he grabbed your arm for you not to go.
“You said I was the love of your life. What happened to that? I know you’re the love of my life. Please, y/n” he said kind of desperately. You looked at him with a poker face. You felt nothing at all. And yes you were surprised but also so proud. Lando Norris meant nothing at all finally. He couldn’t move you. He didn’t have power over you anymore. You won.
“Well then I need to confess I lied. You weren’t the love of my life Lando. You were the motherfucker of my life. You fucking destroyed me. So stop with all of this bullshit” you said Angry. You were saying the truth without being afraid of it. You didn’t care anymore. Now your life is yours and he had no power over it. And you’re fucking happy. You just needed to make sure he knew it. And watch him suffer. And you could see something broke inside of him when he heard you saying that. Fortunately Tania came back from the bathroom just in time.
“Y/n, babe, is everything alright?” She asked, watching lando a little confused but controlling her desires to kill him right there.
You smiled at her. “Yeah beba all good now that you are here” you said, grabbing her by her waist and kissing her gently. She grabbed your face a little surprised at first. But she couldn’t say no to your lips. She was addicted. you didn’t care lando was there. You just kissed and turned to your group of friends ignoring that he was the guy you loved just like he did when he was with you.
190 notes · View notes
corroded-hellfire · 9 months ago
Text
The Bunny and the Hair - Eddie Munson x Reader
Tumblr media
Summary: All you want is a cute photo of your daughter in her bunny costume and a photo of the whole Munson family together. But nothing is simple when the children of Eddie Munson are involved
Note: Happy Easter! Thank you to my darlings @munson-blurbs and @offensiunculaee for helping me brainstorm ideas when the only thing in my head was Eliza dressed as a bunny 💕
Words: 1.2k
[As You Wish masterlist]
Tumblr media
“Aww, come on sweet pea. Give me a smile.”
Your five-month-old daughter does the very opposite of that. It seems that Eliza Munson has somehow perfected the art of giving a piercing glare before mastering sitting up on her own without being a little wobbly. 
The fuzzy white bunny suit she’s in, hood with ears and all, paints the most adorable picture you’ve ever seen. It would be even cuter if she would flash a brief look of glee for a single photo. This Easter is warmer than it’s been in the last few years and it’s easy to understand that she’s getting hot, which is making her cranky. But you just want one good picture. 
“Just one little smile for Mommy? Please?” You raise the small silver camera to your eye before remembering that this new fancy one has a digital screen where you can see what the picture will look like without squinting through a little hole. 
Deciding to start snapping shots and see what happens, your forefinger presses the small shiny button that makes a soft click after click. A giggle bubbles out of you as you notice your baby getting grumpier and grumpier with each shot. A flipbook would be a perfect place to put these photos and flip through them to see Eliza Hulk-out in real time. 
She is getting officially fed up now. 
“Boys?” you ask, glancing over your shoulder to where your husband and sons stand, watching your attempt at an infant photo shoot. “Can you make her smile so I can get one good shot? Then I’ll get her out of that.”
If anything can make Eliza laugh, it’s her brothers. Particularly Luke, he likes to remind people. 
“Sure,” Ryan says, looking around for any prop to assist him. His brown eyes snag on the eggs on the coffee table, the ones you and the boys had been in the middle of preparing to be dyed before Eddie came out with Eliza in all her fluffy glory. “Hey! Liza! Watch this!” He catches the baby’s eye and picks up one of the boiled eggs and jumps up, pretending to crack it over Eddie’s head. It brings a small smile out of your daughter. 
“Hey, hey!” Luke says, waving his arms to attract his little sister’s attention. “Eliza, look!” The younger Munson boy grabs an egg and props one socked foot on the edge of the coffee table to leverage himself up high enough to copy Ryan’s actions.
“Oh, Luke, that one wasn’t–”
Your warning comes too late. The ten-year-old had picked up one of the eggs that had yet to be boiled in preparation for decorating. This comes to light when Luke crushes the egg over his father’s head and runny yolk and gooey egg whites plop down onto Eddie’s hair and drip down his frizzy curls. 
The air feels as if it’s been sucked out of the room. All eyes are on Eddie as his shoulders bunch up towards his ears and his jaw drops open, a small dollop of yellow yolk falling onto his salt-and-pepper scruff. It’s hard to tell how long the room is frozen, silent until—
Furious giggles come from behind you and it breaks the tension that kept the four of you rooted to your spots. You whip your head around to see Eliza laughing so hard that she loses her balance and flops down onto her side, unable to remain sitting up straight on her own. Quickly, you’re able to set her up right again and grab the camera getting a few shots of her, giddy as can be in her bunny suit. 
Relieved that’s taken care of, you now turn back to look back at your husband, who hasn’t moved a muscle. Neither has Luke. 
It’s obvious to you by the look on Eddie’s face that he can tell that it was an accident, but your son is wide-eyed in fear, clearly not getting the same sense. 
“E-Eliza, say bye-bye to Luke cause Dad is gonna kill me,” Luke says softly, never taking his bright blue eyes from his father’s egg-covered form. 
Eddie takes a step towards Luke slowly, clearly wanting to keep Luke in suspense until the last second, before he wipes a large glob of the sticky egg goo from his own hair and rubs it into the little boy’s messy curls. A maniacal laugh erupts from deep within Eddie as he tugs Luke against his chest, not letting his son get away as he squirms and squeals, trying to escape the shared messiness. Despite his protests, when Luke pulls back and looks up at his dad, he’s laughing. 
Watching the two of them in amusement, you put your hands on your hips and shake your head. Never a dull moment with the Munson men. The two of them continue to rub egg on one another as you turn towards the only clean boy in the house.
“Ryan, can you go get Eliza out of her costume? Last thing we need is her overheating.”
“Yeah, you get cranky enough already,” Ryan tells his baby sister as he scoops her up. Eliza gives a little harumph, but you think that’s more from the way the twelve-year-old holds onto her tightly than offense at his words. 
You set the camera down on the coffee table, making sure it isn’t near any of the eggs.
“Damn,” you say. “Forgot to get a family picture.”
“We’ll take one when Ry and Eliza come back out,” Eddie says, dodging Luke’s sticky fingers. 
“That’s gonna look great with you two looking like you fell in a vat of slime,” you say with a laugh. 
Your husband and his mini me only continue to get messier until you hear Ryan’s footsteps coming back down the hall toward the living room. The moment your eyes land on your daughter’s new ensemble, you have to do a double take. Eliza is beaming in her brother’s arms, wearing her bright pink bathing suit covered in large, white polka dots. 
Left speechless, your eyes widen and you’re only able to gesture with your hands towards the swimsuit.
Ryan shrugs as he hefts his sister up on his hip. “She grabbed it when I opened her drawer. And you said you didn't want her overheating.”
Your gaze slides from Eliza, over to Luke and Eddie, then back to Ryan.
“You and I are going to be the ones who stick out in the Easter picture,” you tell your oldest. “We look normal.”
“You mean we don’t look normal?” Luke asks, jumping on his dad’s back and scrunching up the man’s eggy curls. 
Sighing and shaking your head in amusement, you snatch up the camera and fiddle with it until you set the timer for three minutes. The entertainment unit is the perfect height to rest the camera so it can get a good shot of the whole family. You set it on the shelf right above the television and nod your family over toward where the lens is facing.
Eddie, still sporting Luke as a backpack, walks over and stands on your right. Ryan, carrying a still-beaming Eliza tucks into your left side. It’s impossible not to look over the gang around you, letting out a laugh as you take in the chaotic bunch.
“Smile!” Luke instructs everyone.
Eddie slips his hand around your waist and pulls your side flush up against his, squishing some of the egg whites against you, causing you to let out a squeal of laughter just as the flash of the camera goes off. Your husband grins and presses a big wet kiss on your cheek
“Now that picture’s gonna be a keeper,” he says. 
Tumblr media
564 notes · View notes
mercurygguk · 1 year ago
Text
head over skates · jjk ; part i.
Tumblr media
··· SUMMARY; jeon jungkook is the captain of the hockey team and one of the biggest fuckboys on campus. you happen to have known him for as long as you can remember but he is not who he used to be and you simply can't stand it.
so what happens when you're suddenly stuck doing a project with him for three weeks?
SERIES MASTERLIST · # TAG · MOOD BOARDS · PLAYLIST
Tumblr media
PAIRING; hockey player!jungkook x f. reader
GENRE; fwb au, childhood friends to enemies to lovers au, college au
WORDCOUNT; 1,514
RATING; 18+
WARNINGS; swearing
a/n; HEAD OVER SKATES SERIES IS HERE!!!! it’s a drabble series now so these chapters will be short but that’s better than nothing amirite :)) i hope you like this first part! enjoyyy <3 also, please lmk what you think!
Tumblr media
“The project will be done in pairs of two–”
Jihyo copies your smirk from across the room as you lock eyes with her. You were thinking the same thing – you and her will pair up and do this project together. As best friends and classmates since freshman year, you’ve learned that you work the best alongside each other. However, both of your smirks crumble into tiny pieces as Professor Kim finishes her sentence.
“–which have already been decided beforehand.”
You let out a quiet, frustrated groan as you slump in your seat. Jihyo pouts and shoots a glare at Professor Kim without her noticing. You watch with a bored expression as she pulls up a document showing the pairs for the project. You skim the document until your eyes land on your name, written in Times New Roman right next to–
Oh, hell no.
The universe has a sick sense of humor, is the first thought your brain is able to process as you stare at the name written next to yours. It’s the name of the one person you haven’t spoken to since senior year of high school. It’s the name of the one person you still hold a grudge against. It’s the name of your childhood best friend and high school crush – Jeon Jungkook.
When you first met Jungkook, he was just 5 years old and nothing like the man he is today.
Back then he had just moved in across the street and it didn’t take long for you to realize he was the cutest, most shy little boy – you can ask anyone who knew him back then. He was careful with everything from animals to dead objects to other people and yet he was just a pinch of wild and reckless enough to allow himself to do some of the crazy stuff kids do when growing up. He was smaller than the other boys at his age; short and skinny, a round head, framed by his thick strands of black hair. He also had big, star-filled doe eyes that could convince any adult to let him have everything his way. And having his way was something Jungkook got used to as he grew older – sometimes a bit too much perhaps.
As his best friend during all the years going from elementary school through middle school and the first years of high school, you witnessed it first hand – teachers and his friends alike were all willing to go out of their way to make sure Jungkook was satisfied. No one really knows how that came to be – perhaps it had nothing to do with Jungkook at all but everything to do with the fact that his father was the board director at one of the biggest enterprises in the country.
Jungkook has always been very oblivious, hence why he didn’t put much thought into the special treatment he received from everyone as soon as people found out just how rich his parents were. 
While in middle school, he had yet to realize how girls were starting to look at him, how they would giggle whenever he would flash his boyish smile in their direction, how they would almost trip over each other to get his attention and call his name during lunch breaks only to blush and say ‘nevermind’ when he would finally react. Jungkook had yet to realize that he was becoming hotter and less shy. He was oblivious as ever but still cute nonetheless. 
And while all this went down, you watched from the sideline, wondering when he would realize – wondering when your friendship would end. Because it would. You knew that from the moment Jungkook flirtatiously smirked and winked at your friend one day without realizing. Or maybe he did. Either way, you realized it on his behalf – he was slowly becoming a big flirt.
It’s now five years later and you were right. And as much as you like to be right, you’ve never hated it more.
Your friendship did end.
It started fading out almost as soon as Jungkook realized what he was able to achieve with his good looks and flirty nature. Now you and Jungkook attend the same college but in two different worlds most of the time. The chances of you and him ever going back to being friends like you were when you were pre-teens are minimal. And it’s not like you’re trying to befriend him again.
Cocky jocks who think they’re the shit aren’t exactly your first choice when making friends. 
And somehow during your high school junior year, Jungkook became one of them. He picked up on the term ‘working out’ and found out he had muscles and how to grow them. He also found out how to use those exact muscles to make the girls swoon, making them feed his ego way more than what is considered healthy. And as if that wasn't enough, Jungkook began practicing hockey.
And guess what? He was damn good at it.
Ego overfed.
As time went by, you and Jungkook talked less. He was busy with his new friends, playing hockey, and hanging out with girls that were way more interesting than his best friend, also known as you. Eventually you found yourself spending time with other people instead of him, finding it tiring and painful to be the second choice whenever his other friends didn’t have time or when his parents would mention you and he would 'suddenly' remember you existed. 
The sight of different girls from school entering and leaving his house without his parents knowing wasn’t that fun either if you’re being honest.
Although, you never actually told him that – but you didn’t have to because the two of you were gliding apart by each day you spent doing your own thing. It hurt but your silly crush eventually turned into anger which later turned into despisal and borderline hatred towards your former best friend. Because Jeon Jungkook was nothing more than just another jock with an overfed ego and way too many fangirls trailing behind him everywhere he goes.
Your point is deemed proven the moment Jungkook gets up from his seat in the back and makes his way to you – said fangirls all turn their scowling gazes to you the second they realize what is happening. You feel his presence before he opens his mouth to greet you, something about it making your stomach churn as he plops down in the seat next to you.
“Hey, partner,” he grins when you slowly turn to face him. “What are the odds, huh?”
You don’t spare him a glance nor a reply as you get up from your seat, leaving him behind and trying your very best to ignore the way his eyes follow your every move. Your professor seems less than excited to see you standing next to her desk as she looks up at you.
“Mrs. Kim,” you offer her your best polite smile, “is there any chance it’s possible to change partners for this project? It seems-”
Professor Kim glances back to your spot where Jungkook is sitting in the next chair, arms crossed over his chest as he leans back, hints of a smirk on his lips as he watches you and Mrs. Kim. “Miss ____, the pairs have been decided beforehand for a reason. I was hoping to save time and energy by doing this and will not be spending said saved energy on splitting up pairs just because you’re unhappy with yours.”
You feel a frustrated whine push at the back of your throat as the words leave her red-tinted lips. “But-”
“____, I know you prefer to work with Jihyo in every class you share,” she pointedly and calmly says. “But as the professor, it is my job to challenge the students and push them out of their comfort zone. If there aren’t any actual issues with having Mr. Jeon as your partner, I suggest you take on the challenge and get the best out of it.”
The fake smile she shoots at you has you frowning as you turn on your heel, defeat hanging over you in a gray cloud as you make your way back to your seat. Jungkook’s smirk has widened and he seems more than satisfied by the fact that your request got rejected by the professor. You slump in your seat once again, stealing a glance at Jihyo who got paired up with none other than Kim Namjoon – the top student of this class and her crush.
What a lucky bitch.
“Cheer up, ____,” Jungkook’s voice intrudes your thoughts, pulling you back. He’s smiling smugly when you turn to face him for the first time since he sat down. “I promise I’ll behave.”
You huff out an unimpressed scoff and turn your attention to your notes, the grip on your pen so tight your knuckles turn white. You miss the way Jungkook’s smile falters a little as you look away.
This is going to be the longest three weeks of your life – you’re sure of it.
Tumblr media
all rights reserved © mercurygguk · tumblr
2K notes · View notes
caffeinatedvigilantewriter · 2 months ago
Text
This one’s a long, but a favorite.
Jumaji inspired
Serious Chaos
So GIW has managed to get a hold of Technus’s new project. A project centered on video games.
Technus’s plan was to trap Phantom in a video game.
The game would take place in the ghost zone, and you’d have to fight different ghosts to defeat each level. The levels get more difficult as you go on. You can stop to grab ecto-dejecto to increase your health.
Anyway, the GIW got their hands on it and tested the game on the ghost scums.
Dani (Elle, 16), Danny (19), Jordan (Dan 27) and Jazz (22) (she became ver liminal due to ecto exposure) were meeting up in Amity Park when the got ambushed and sucked into…. a video game?
The GIW plays the game to test and realize that it’s actually pretty fun. And they need more funding after Vlad Masters didn’t renew the contract (something about his godchildren and daughter going missing?)
So the mass produced and sold the game.
It is an instant hit.
Now the other copies are actual programs characters and sorts, but the OG copy got lost and ended up in the shipments or games going to Gotham.
It was Wayne Famiky game night, and they all decided to play the four player game that came out last month. It was called The Ghost Zone.
They read reviews and description of the game and through it would be fun
(The Ghost Zone is a dangerous place, but with the help of your great, you might manage to make it out alive! You have four characters to choose from: Dr Jazz Phantom a brilliant psychologist. Danny Phantom, astromancy expert. Dante Phantom the ghost engineer and Elle Phantom, the teen explorer and ghost expert!)
None of the Waynes had played the game before, but they turned it and everything seemed normal. Duke played as Danny, Dick am played as Elle, Steph played as Jazz, and Tim played as Dante.
None of them could make it past level 5 without dying, so they handed the controllers over to Cass, Damian, Jason and Barbara.
But the moment Damian (17) and Jason (27) (changing the ages here) touched the controllers to pick their characters, they vanished.
There were two new characters on the screen, along with two frozen avatars.
Jason Todd: gun expert and literature nerd.
Damian Al Ghul: swordsman and animal whisperer
(Damian and Jason are the most liminal, and this is the OG copy of the game and it mistook them as ghost and sucked them in.)
~
Jason and Damian had been sucked into a video game.
Now, they have to survive the ghost zone until the Bats can get them out. They also learned that the 4 ‘characters’ are actually real people.
They were ghosts, ghosts were real. And they got sucked into a video game. For an odd reason, they had their swords and guns.
The bats are freaking out. They watched two of their members get sucked into a video can that was known for being impossible to beat.
Like I mentioned, this was the OG copy, so the characters (I’m gonna start calling the video game characters ‘characters’ and the players ‘players’) have some control over what they can ‘say’.
They can change the character dialogue to give clues and hints.
But when it comes to actual gameplay, they are mostly at the mercy of the controller, with a few exceptions.
But considering none of the hero’s exactly have enough time to learn the game and master it in a short amount of time, (except Tim (he watched Bernard played extensively) they are forced to call the worlds best players.
~
Tucker Foley, Samantha Manson, Valerie Grey and and Wes Weston immediately knew that the characters in the video game were their classmates. It was obvious once you saw the signs. And Technus came to them the moment he realized he messed up.
Considering they all live in Amity, the ecto in the air is bringing out the OG programming, so snippets of the characters actual conversation pop up on screen for a moment before glitching back to its programmed sentences.
Unfortunately, Sam and Wes didn’t have the video game experience that Tucker did, so it was up to him to try to beat the game, hoping it would bring his fiends back. He mastered the game up to level 20 out of 25, but never made it past that point.
Suddenly he was asked to come to the Hall of Justice to play video games for The Justice Leauge.
Valerie and Sam came with him, and they realized why they were asked to come.
This was the copy that Dan, Dani, Dan and Jazz got sucked in.
~
Shenanigan ideas
-characters drops codes and hints about ghosts and the GIW in the character dialogue
- Tucker logs in with his name and the Bats deciphered a code that translated to ‘Tckrs playng!!!’
-since Dani is the ghost expert in the game, she’s very overcoming by stress and lashes out at Damian, who ends up not liking her (he actually loves people who could bend him in half, it’s a Wayne Family Trait) (totally serious chaos) (reluctant partners to lovers)
-SPECIAL POWERS
• Dan can collect scrap junk and create weapons out of them. The long he collects, the more dangerous the weapon
• Jazz can stun the ghost with a few words in ghost speak, but will need ecto-dejecto to heal her damaged vocal cords (and because she’s liminal and not a halfa)
• Danny can summon a previously defeated ghost if he’s at full power, but when he does he’s then extremely weakened. He also has a spell books of smaller spells that he can use when the stars align
• Dani can talk to the ghost in their native language when they were alive and clam them down temporarily. She can also read maps of the GZ easier than the others.
•Jason can speak ghost speak easier, and is the only one that can read it casual. Can also wield any type of gun
•Damian can speak to the ghost animals and get their help on special occasions, but will need an ecto-dejecto boost after
- the ghosts they have to fight are imitations of the the rouge gallery
- Sam and Wes creating a true crime podcast. Which gains views, and they talk about the missing Fentons. It gains traction online and people realize that the characters in the game look alike, have the same hobbies and interest, and the same names. The GIW is suddenly under scrutiny
-can someone PLEASE make trading cards of the characters and the ghosts!?!!? :DDD
187 notes · View notes
avocado-writing · 2 months ago
Text
Kinktober #13
Tumblr media
13. Pregnancy // Aftercare // Roleplay (Wade Wilson x Reader)
Tumblr media
“Mr Wilson? I’m ready to see you now.”
You don’t know how he talked you into this. It’s so porno-trope ridiculous. But here you are, dressed in the tight latex of a naughty nurse’s uniform, eyes wide and lips pouted as you lean on your wooden doorframe pretending it’s the entrance to an examination room.
To be fair Wade looks ecstatic. He puts down the copy of Men’s Health he’s been reading onto the coffee table - did he buy a load of magazines for this roleplay? - and stands up. From the moment he laid eyes on you all laced up in costume, he’s been rocking a semi.
It’s kinda flattering that after all this time together you can still have such an effect.
He follows you into the room and hops on the bed, affecting the posture of a sick man, cupping his groin like he’s sprained himself. You suppress an eye roll and take a seat in the ‘cuck chair’ (Wade’s name, not yours).
“What seems to be the problem, Mr Wilson?”
“Well nurse, it’s kinda embarrassing…”
Oh, okay, you’re doing a little bit of humiliation too. You can roll with that.
“I’m a medical professional Mr Wilson, please, it won’t be anything I haven’t heard before.”
He sighs long and hard before looking at you dead in the eyes.
“My penis is broken, nurse.”
You have to bite back a laugh and force yourself to stay in character. 
“Your penis… is broken.”
“I know, it’s terrible. Feels like my manhood has been ripped from me, and not even in a literal sense so I could grow a new one. It’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to anyone… I just can’t get hard any more, nurse. I don’t know what to do.”
You go to grab the box of latex gloves the two of you invested in for wound-cleaning and make a show of snapping one on in front of him, before the other accidentally falls to the floor.
“Oops! Aren’t I clumsy…” you sigh, bending over at the waist so the uniform rides up and he can see you’re not wearing any panties. You think you hear him whisper a prayer to an avocado but you can’t be sure. “Anyway, I’ll need to do an examination, Mr Wilson. Can you remove your sweatpants? Underwear too, please.”
He’s never obeyed a command so quickly. It’s kinda cute. When stripped you can tell he’s definitely half-hard, cock bobbing in interest when you inspect him.
“Well it seems like you’re responding pretty well so far… let me try a digital examination…”
You wrap your fingers around him and begin to pump, smiling to yourself as he hardens in your hand. Wade throws his head back and bites his lip, a very pretty sight, breathing laboured and ragged.
“How is this, Mr Wilson?”
“Pre…pretty good, nurse. Seems like you have magic hands. Think I’m not quite cured yet though…”
“Oh, that’s alright, I have an oral technique which helps in cases like these.”
You swallow him down to the hilt with one motion and Wade almost has to stab himself with baby knife so he doesn’t come in your mouth right there and then. Fixing him with a wicked look you start bobbing up and down his length, getting him covered in your spit in just the way he likes. His hand snakes round to the back of your head desperately.
“Nurse - gah - is it against your hippocratic oath if I ask you to bite me, or are we all systems go there?”
Coming off of his dick with a wet pop you go for his thigh teeth-first, sinking them into where the flesh of his leg circles to his asscheek. That’s enough. Wade chokes and comes all over your uniform, and you’re glad the latex is easily wiped clean.
As he falls back in the bed you scribble something on a piece of paper and tuck it in the pocket of his sweatpants. Wade looks up at you from the mattress.
“What’s that?”
“Prescription for a round of cowgirl, to be administered later this evening.”
He lights up like the Fourth of July. 
Tumblr media
204 notes · View notes
velvetures · 6 months ago
Note
Hello loves💕 I still can't get over your writing I'm obsessed!!
I would love to request Roommate König x fem reader. König hears you fucking some guy on the other side of the wall and he can tell you faked it so once the dude is gone he's got you over his shoulder and is walking you to his bedroom to fuck you right. I love the idea of her trying to get him to confess to her and trying anything after months or years of mutual pining, her last resort is to make him jealous.
Overheard
a/n: I'm so sorry for being so slow my love... I always have the worst self-confidence with nsfw reqs. I constantly write them, delete them, and start all over... (this is like... the 8th full-draft retry) So I hope you'll forgive me if this isn't up to standard. Also, I know this trope has been covered by some really talented writers and I hoped to do it justice, and not feel like a carbon copy of something better. (ps. This shit is too long... but I knew if I deleted anything, I'd delete the whole thing over again.)
tw's: 18+ ONLY, nameless hookup, alluded unprotected sex w/side character, unintentional orgasm denial, the reader is mentally not in the best place for sex (disconnected), voyeurism, jealously, fem-oral receiving, fem-fingering receiving, dirty talk, König being a bit of a loser, König omitting his lack of experience, aftercare.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
His mom kept saying it was about time to settle down. That the biological clock, normally pushed on women, was ever-present and ticking against his favor. But his sweet, innocent, mother didn’t know the depth of his awkwardness. Not even the slightest idea that her well-mannered boy, turned praise-worthy Colonel was nothing but a bumbling fucking idiot when it came to speaking with women. In the field, sure. He could give orders, discuss tactics, and even bullshit with the best of the best… but if a woman was among those? Oh hell. It was like trying to talk to a brick wall with a randomly developed stuttering issue.
He didn’t understand where it came from either.
It wasn’t like his mother was one of the overbearing types that made dating impossible, and nor did he exactly have the worst time when he was younger with women being interested. It was just… after they showed interest, that became the struggle. Relaxing wasn’t possible. Not when he knew that a woman’s perception of him was far higher than that of any man. Believing that even the smallest of gestures and phrases could earn him an immediate dismissal, and his name or photo being sent in some group-chat to be berated after a first date. He didn’t blame any of the women though… he knew what he looked like. What he sounded like… and God, how miserable his personality was compared to what his career and position would lead others to assume.
A shred of truth could always be found in his mother’s warning though.
He’d gone years without any meaningful relationship where the softer, side of a woman could be found. He found bastardized ways of getting a taste, but he could only allocate so much money a month to porn sites and camgirls without feeling like a total sleaze. The Colonel felt much more confident mapping out a prospective warzone than the contours of a woman’s body, and fuck… it made him more than a little embarrassed to admit. Enough so, that when you mentioned that your rental agreement was coming to an end, and you were trying to find somewhere new to stay, he offered for you to just move in with him.
He owned. Which made the idea of ‘rent’ or you paying it almost unquestionably stupid. It made the deal a little sweeter -in his mind- for you to agree, and then he wouldn’t have to be quite so personally diligent on logging onto online portals to pay utilities. That is, if he could get you to move in. And while in his own mind and body, every synapse screamed that he was being unrealistic, you hadn’t caught on. He’d looked just as stoic and cold as ever when he propositioned that you just start moving over your things into his house. Save money… it’ll be easier for you; He’d said, hard eyes glancing over your face. You thought saying ‘yes’ was anxiety-inducing? König nearly passed out in his office after walking there on numb feet and weak knees.
In the week following, he brought you a small ring of keys, and you started moving your life into his, one cardboard box at a time. And every night after returning from his on-base duties, he would have to physically restrain himself from opening up the taped flaps and getting a peek at the unattended items sitting by the front door. At the time, he thought it was nothing more than unchecked curiosity and instinct to feel-out a new situation. Just simply wanting to learn more about you before you started sleeping over. Merely the soldier in him. But box, by box, that curiosity didn’t dampen down. Even when your items began making their way out of their containers and enmeshing with his around the house.
Tea cups in the kitchen cabinet next to his thicker, coffee mugs. Throw blankets rolled and stacked in the far corning of the couch he rarely sat on. A little rug you’d tossed down in the kitchen in front of the stove with a little floral print that he’d been utterly possessed to not get any stains on while cooking, or by taking off his boots before walking inside. And while never claiming to be a ‘minimalist’ man, he learned right away that his house was nothing short of a hotel when it came to personality.
You’d brought at least five full walls worth of decor. Little trinkets and cute things from all over the world you’d been sneaky enough to stuff into the pockets of your gear. And all of it, had initially been shoved into an empty linen closet he’d been perfect happy with you claiming as your own since it was ‘on your side of the house’. That was, until he found himself noticing that you’d put more than “storage” things away, and had silently refused to put them where they belonged.
On the damn walls.
“I don’t decorate well anyways..” It’d been his excuse… or at least something along those lines. Maybe a little bit more gruff. Guarded. Because even in his own home, he had the tendency of walking around like someone was going to sneak up behind him.
So one week, while he was away, you took the permission and ran with it. Buying the picture hanging kits, and everything else needed to begin covering the Colonel’s walls with your amassed collection of utterly unnecessary, but brain-scratching decorations, art, and collectable junk. Spending a good half hour walking around the halls and rooms with a little smile of accomplishment on your face seeing the colonel’s house feeling more like a home. Totally unaware that he’d been checking the security cameras dotted around, watching you scale a shitty stepladder, climb the kitchen cabinets, and struggle to lift the more heavy items. All the while, growing more and more intrigued with this new arrangement. Debating whether he liked it or not. Rapt attention making the instinctive suggestion that you’d make a good wife far less perverse than he should’ve felt it to be.
Missions took precedence though. And it kept both of you busy more than not. Fully living adjacent instead of in a more dependent role. But there were decidedly small decisions that needed to be made. Like who was in charge of buying groceries, and getting essentials that you both used. König ended up just leaving cash on the counter once a week so you could take care of his end for him. Saving the trouble of a second loaf of bread being bought, or doubling up on paper towels after a miscommunication lead to fifty rolls of the shit needing to be stored somewhere. You did the job more than credibly, and it got you out of the house too.
Which was good, because you rarely left.
Not unlike him, you preferred your time spent in calm situations. Either reading reports, answering emails, and other related tasks before just closing that tab on your laptop and opening up an new one to watch a show or scroll on your phone. You appeared to thrive in his house when you could curl up like some little bird in a nest and just rest. Developing almost permanently sleepy eyes when you came through the door, and a softer tone of voice that took some getting used to. König didn’t exactly understand it. Why your demeanor changed so much within the house, and how it got substantially much more noticeable when your schedules aligned for both of you to be there at the same time.
A solid seven months or more passed before he got his answer. And from your late-night scrolling nonetheless.
Some woman, blabbering on about her husband, and all of the ways that he effected her life once she moved in with him. And, honestly, König wasn’t listening all that much. Having just begun sitting on the other end of the couch with you, since it was where you spent your evenings after dinner. And, it’d become a little bit of a new experience. Just being halfway close to you. Interacting, but not. A safe way to enjoy your presence without any expectations. But that woman on your phone caught his attention when she made the joke about being tired all the time. Tired. Sleepy. All the fucking time. He had to stare down at the TV to keep his head from snapping in your direction.
Apparently it was chemical. Some little thing in the back of a woman’s mind that men didn’t have the complexity to experience the same way. That this woman -and you- were so mentally focused for such a long time, that when the right person was around you, and created a safe space, it acted like a the strongest sleeping pill in existence. Flooding you with dopamine and melatonin to the point that your pretty face got even sweeter with those deep, sleepy looks and constant yawns at all times of the day. Getting a glimpse of you tapping the screen twice, and then tapping at your keyboard to leave a comment only reinforced his inquisitiveness. From the moving boxes, to watching you on cameras while away… and now realizing that you acted so sweet and docile around the house because of him..? He didn’t know how to control himself, and still find a way to keep figuring you out.
Wanting more…
Needing a chance to find out if things could go further than just living in his house.
Dating wasn’t a walk in the park for you either. Call it a hazard of military work. Computers and filing paperwork was more your speed than the guns and blood that König was accustomed to, but it still limited the amount of men who were interested. Especially in the long-term.
It really came down to the uniform and lack of free time that could be allotted to the guys that you did have the fortune to meet. They wanted to take you on dates, and your superiors preferred you stay late to take minutes for a meeting. They always suggested you take a vacation, since it was clear just how tired you were on a daily basis. But vacations were practically a laughable dream you knew wouldn’t come to fruition until you finally were sent the retirement packet everyone in the service dreamed of. But.. on the rare occasion, you did have the energy to entertain a man for a night. Just. One. Night.
Thankfully König was out.
Such good timing considering you’d spent nearly a week, taking your sweet time to wring orgasms out of yourself just for the sheer frustration of getting them, and still not feeling satisfied. Instinctively missing the warmth of skin on skin and the dynamic of having someone else provide and take pleasure from you. Even getting on the app had felt more like a shopping trip than a chance to go on a date. Looking through photos and bios with nothing more on your mind than someone big enough, and pretty enough to make the ordeal worth it. The guy who answered back to your painfully blatant request for a good fuck, didn’t ask any questions either. Just asked politely asked if you wanted to go to him, or vice versa and gave you ample time to get yourself ready before the knock on the front door.
Your mental ruined any chance of having a good time though.
The poor guy sucking at your neck and grunting soft praises was nice… but you couldn’t get into it. Feeling tense. Going through the motions. Foreplay becoming an act of forced moans to reassure the guy genuinely trying to make you feel good, and unable to even make eye contact for a slightly guilty feeling that pervaded your thoughts. Hell, you even refused to have missionary, just to make sure that your facial expressions didn’t have to constantly match the fake whimpers and whines.
John… Joe… Jacob… whatever his name was, he was honestly a sweet guy. Giving your clit attention, no just shoving his cock in you without prep, and actively checking in without making it overbearing. On another day, you’d have really been trying harder to impress him. Give the impression that you were interested in him for more than the sex you couldn’t surrender to. Hope that he liked you enough to stick around. But deep down, you thought better of it. Withholding your feelings to ensure that when he left you alone for the night, that you wouldn’t hate yourself.
König, on the other hand, came home a bit earlier than expected. Walking in the door quietly to expect a silent house, and you sleeping in your bed or on the couch after waiting up for him. Only to be stunned with wet, skin slapping and familiar, pathetic, whimpers getting overrun by deep grunts and low, almost whispered sounds from a man.
God… you were getting fucked.
His whole chest tightened in embarrassment and his face felt hot. You’d never been quite this comfortable… at least to his knowledge. Plenty of nights he had overheard the faint sounds of you getting off alone… soft little moans and gentle hums of a vibrator filtering down the hallway to him. But he’d never heard anything quite that… loud. Even when you fucked yourself on a dildo -he’d always been too curious not to listen intently- the slick sounds of your cunt always made louder noise than your voice. As mortified as he was hearing it… part of him knew something was wrong. Like his whole body was stiff, realizing that you weren’t enjoying it. Faking it… for some unknown reason.
Why couldn’t you say something? Surely you could ask him to… to do something different right? To let you use a toy? Or… or touch your clit? Whatever it took to help you enjoy yourself. But those pinched, almost broken moans starting grating on him within seconds. Stalking towards your bedroom door quietly, and leaning against the wall. Eyes closed and his breath getting heavier with each imagined scene in his head that developed. Picturing him doing all the wrong things… Touching you… tasting you… and living out his own pleasure without the slightest idea that every sound out of your mouth was a fucking lie.
König’s jaw clenched. Resisting a sudden desire to bang on the door or make some other loud noise that would bring this all to an end. Even his fist clenched at his side flinched towards the bedroom door, as if he was insane enough to actually bust in.
What would he even do?
The question rang out a bit too harshly in his mind.
He didn’t have the first idea how to… do better. To make you feel good, or any woman really. Plenty of jealousy rose in his throat at the thought of that bastard fucking you, but he hadn’t even touched a pussy in years. And the last time he did it, he was, pathetically inexperienced. Using his huge fingers to try and prep his partner, but not hitting any of the right spots. Accidentally taking a clinical approach, and it left him feeling like a damn gynecologist instead of a good fuck.
He couldn’t please you, no matter how much he wanted to…
The sobering thought forced him to back away from your bedroom door. But pride alone forced him into the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a glass of scotch in his hand. The last -and unavoidable- line of defense before the front door. No doubt in his mind that if nothing else, he’d get a good look at the man you’d brought home for a disappointing night of sex. Wanting to at least humiliate the bastard for a few seconds. Because while he knew himself to not be an acceptable partner, the guy currently riding out his high in your bedroom wasn’t going to know it. And seeing him -in his daily fatigues- and his hood, would give any man a moment of pause.
You felt sticky. Hot. And more than a little achy in all the wrong ways as Jeff… Josh… whoever the fuck he was, removed himself form your bed and began pulling on his jeans. Watching cautiously as he excused himself into your bathroom -sweetly- offering you a wet washcloth and a too-shy smile for a man who’d just come all over your stomach.
You didn’t bother putting on pants to walk him out to the front door. Too disappointed and stuck in your own head to see König standing in the corner of the kitchen. His dark eyes glaring daggers at your… ‘guest’ who was much more observant, and stood stock still. Shirt in his hands, and forced to raise his gaze more than normal to get the best look at the terrifying man looming in the shadows. It took you far longer than it should’ve. To trace Jonah… Josiah’s… gaze, and recognize your roommate. And even longer to remember that you weren’t wearing pants.
“Hey man…”
You had to give what’s-his-name credit for being as casual as he sounded. Because in all honesty, you were just as taken aback. Shuffling to stand behind the guy just enough that your bare pussy and ass weren’t totally out for him to see.
“Evening…” König sounded… bored? Not his normal tone. “Heading out already?” The guy you were using as a shield, just nodded his head. Looking a bit apologetic, but still anxious.
“Yeah, man…” He pulled his head over his shirt, patting his pockets for the jingle of car keys before glancing back at you with an truly apologetic smile, and a clear unpreparedness for the situation. “I… uh…. thanks for… letting me come over…”
You can’t manage more than a nod. No smile, no reassuring touch to him… nothing. Just a silent acknowledgment and the subsequent scamper over to the couch to grab a blanket to cover yourself up.
Shit… König fucking waved bye…
He didn’t expect you to come out. Nor to get his first-ever look at your pussy. And god it’d taken a lot of restraint not to just stare at you and memorize what he could get get a look at. You just looked soft. So fucking small and soft… A slight sheen of sweat on your face and the roots of your hair damp from the erotic affair.
Too bad it was all an act.
“Thanks for letting him come, huh?” He can’t resist… the guy just hadn’t been cautious enough to not fuel the fire of jealously in him.
Seeing you wrap that blanket around you tighter, avoiding all eye contact, and even turning your side to him a bit… it makes him smile under his hood. An amused one. A sickeningly happy sort of feeling rising in his gut where you appear vulnerable under his gaze. You’re already much more expressive just talking to him than you’d sounded with that bastards cock inside you.
“Didn’t think you’d be back for a while…” Your valid excuse falls a bit flat, especially when those dark brown eyes scan your entire body. He lifts his tumbler of scotch under his hood, nodding before taking a long drink. Feeling a secondary burn that soothes the heat building everywhere else in him.
“I can see that…” He chuckles lowly. To him, it sounds unsure… and maybe tinged with anger, jealously. But on your face, he’s clear that you don’t recognize it. Far too embarrassed to see that there’s just as much uncertainty flooding him as well. “Could hear it too…”
He literally sees your shoulders sink. The wave of embarrassment. Part of him loves it. Knowing you’re experiencing some of the same things he is. That you to, know what it’s like to leave a bed feeling like things didn’t go right, and there’s a guilt that hardens like sediment in your gut. Yet the other half, resists pushing harder. Using this same, defensive, and chastising tone. To give you just a bit of respite, because, he’s not really mad… he’s just fuming with jealously.
“If I knew… I wouldn’t have…” You can’t manage much more. Both of you knowing damn well this wouldn’t have happened if you knew what his arrival was going to be. You always kept so good to his schedules… and not just because this was his house. But because you were so genuinely sweet around him.
“Been so loud?” He suggests, downing the last gulp of his scotch and pushing away from the counter. “Speaking of that…” His gaze lingers on your throat… those faked moans echoing in his mind.
“I didn’t know it was common practice for women to walk their fucktoys to the door… especially when he doesn’t make you come.”
If your stomach was twisting before, there wasn’t a doubt now. And god… you couldn’t tell if it was that he was home, or his voice, or just the edged-feeling of your aching pussy; but König was making you squirm. More than he’d ever done before… and you’d gotten yourself off to the thought of him plenty of times before when no other fantasy had done the trick.
“I finished.” You defend, tightening the blanket around your waist and tucking your bare feet under the excess material pooling on the floor.
König’s eyes blacken, and he laughs lowly. It’s the closest you’ve seen to his behavior when he’s interrogating someone. His power of knowing all the right answers and just dangling the freedom to lie right in front of your face. Maddening, to say the least. And enough to make your thighs flex together.
“I’d like to believe you…” he begins, making leisurely steps closer. “Yet, I’ve spent more nights than I care to admit hearing you come… and what I just hear… is nothing close to the real thing.”
“It’s different with—when it’s not just me.” You gape at him, trying to find anger at the audacity.
Searching for something other than a feeling of arousal knowing that despite your muffled cries into pillows, he’d still heard you at night. Still listened, and if nothing else, knew what your true pleasure sounded like to call you on bullshit. He shrugs, massive hands resting on his hips. Watching them sway a little as he keeps getting closer. Testing the boundary lines you no doubt had. Pushing and prodding at weak spots, and wondering if he can set foot on the living room rug you stood at the center of.
“Different, huh?” The fake acceptance doesn’t last long. “So if I asked for proof… you’d have it?”
“Proof?” You choke out. “What kind of proof could I even give you?” There are plenty running around in your head, all of them raunchier than the previous. But you’re almost desperate to hear him say it.
“Sweetheart, you’ve got the wettest fucking cunt I’ve ever heard,” He growls softly. “You never finish yourself off without making the slickest goddamn noises. Can hear it from down the hallway like it’s playing off my phone.” He adds, voice getting gritty, eyes lowering towards your hips and back up.
“Show me, that is… if he really did make you come.”
Air in your lungs evaporates. God it’s criminal how fucking lewd anything could sound coming from his mouth. And your dry pussy is pathetically getting wetter by the second. Fluttering muscles twitching with each filthy admission he makes. You’re already resorting to putting pressure against your clit by flexing your legs, trying to deny the feelings. Excusing it all by the still-lingering desire for release and not König. Not moving, and a miserable lack of a response forces him to approach faster. Stepping onto the rug serving as a mental barrier for you.
“Embarrassed?” He asks, head tilting a little and stretching the hood to pull away from his chest a little. Putting a bit more of his chest on display in that tight t-shirt.
You shake your head defiantly.
“Oh? Okay then… you should be able to show me then, right? Pretty girl like you, wanting to get fucked… Should be more than willing to brag that you got satisfied. That he left you satiated…”
Your face burns. Debating how to answer. If it’s even smart to try and test your voice in the first place.
“Nothing to see… got-got cleaned up…” God the miserable truth that your no-name partner’s cum was the only thing needing cleaned off of you hits like a punch to the gut.
A massive hand grabs at the blanket in your grip stops all possibility of lying anymore. A warning. Gentle, for sure and meant to be just a small test of consent. However, you too far into this to not want more. He’s just hitting all the right buttons, whether he means to or not.
“How about I… check for myself?” He asks lowly, free hand -covered in a glove- sliding up under his hood and returning into sight with the achingly sexy sight of a huge, scarred hand. His meaning isn’t lost on you, and it’s almost like your cunt floods in anticipation.
“Slide my hand between your pretty thighs, and see just how good he treated you…” He murmurs, trailing fingers down the two sides of the blanket pulled together. “Let me see if that pussy is fucking drenched like she deserves to be.”
“König.” You warn softly, eyes darting down to his hand and back to his eyes.
Not the slightest bit worried about him touching you. Not at all. But about what would happen after all the tension faded. What would come of your relationship if you fucked… or, just made things complicated in general.And he pauses, looking to you a bit cooler. His breathing still heavy, and laden with emotion.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
You’re desperate to think of a way to explain yourself, but the most basic, stupid, comment comes out of your mouth.
“I don’t want this to end badly.”
He straightens just a bit. But his hands don’t move. And while from your perspective, it seems he’s hesitating on whether or not to continue, that’s not what’s got him stuck mere inches away from slipping his fingers between your folds.
He’s worried you know. That you’ve caught on to his inexperience, and are merely defending yourself from a second bad experience in one night. And god it makes this throat burn. Desperate to defend himself and prove that while -yes- he’s more than a little bit lost when it comes to the manual process, he’s still going to be the most teachable fucking man you’ve ever met.
“I’ll listen so well…” He eventually mutters, stepping just a bit closer. Voice lowering and a hint of desperation entering it. “Can—can give you everything you want… Just need to tell me…” he adds, unable to look you in the eyes.
It’s not exactly what you were expecting to hear, but it still strokes that burn between your thighs. Especially when his hands grip your hips through the blanket wrapped around you. Groping softly, massaging at the fat over your muscles and feeling hungry just to touch you.
“I… I don’t want things to be awkward afterwards.” You try to reexplain. Hoping the clarification will help him see why you hadn’t already leaned into his commanding touch.
“Awkward,” he repeats, as if it’s a foreign idea. Like it’d never crossed his mind. “Don’t plan on ignoring you anymore… Not—Not after hearing that… and knowing… fuck…”
“He couldn’t have listened… please tell me you tried to tell him what to do… what you wanted,” His rambles get more panicked. Like every thought in his head is equally important and he can’t take the time to pick one and let me even answer. “Should’ve asked what your pussy needed… how to make you feel good… make those pretty sounds..”
You’re half dazed just watching his breathy words fan the material of his hood to react to his boot kicking your feet apart. Wide hand sliding between your thighs and groaning. A deep, guttural sound that reminds of him being winded. And really… he probably should be. Because your inner thighs are dry to the touch. The wetness he’d been creating still not enough to make much fuss over. But he’s not satisfied with that alone. Immediately curling a finger to spread your lips, feeling the thick, slick of new arousal that had been nothing, if not his doing.
“Ohh, you poor baby…” He sighs lowly, head rolling back at the mere sensation of your pussy under his fingertips. Feeling you a bit anxiously, yet getting a buzz in the back of his skull when your hole pulses against his prodding touch. “Left you so fucking hot…”
It’s a fast movement but he’s got you off your feet and dropped down onto the couch in one swift move. Your back arched in the slumped position and the blanket that’d been covering your -pathetic- modesty, fluttered open on both sides of your hips. Leaving your core exposed to his hungry and heavy-lidded eyes. Letting out a little whine of a sound when he slowly drops to a knee; tracing his hands down your inner thighs like he was scared of touching you too harshly.
“König, please…” You gasp out, watching his thumb run over your swollen labias. Pinching your fat lips together softly and inadvertently putting delicious pressure on your swollen clit. He curses under his breath, free hand grabbing your thigh with bruising strength.
“Tell me how to please you,” He commands, eyes flashing dangerously wide in the icy moonlight streaming through the living room windows. “I need to make you come.”
His desperate, and knows you can see it. His whole body shakes seeing your flushed pussy a mere foot away from his face, and nothing but opportunity and his hood preventing him from burying his face in it. Watching as you shyly reach for his wrist, guiding his hand where you want it. Extending his fingers and whimpering when your motion for him to rub small circles over your clit sends those to-intense waves of pleasure through your pussy.
“Like that… just like that…” You’re able to praise with a shaky nod of your head.
Rocking your hips in tandem with his movements and nearly crying out in relief when he diligently keeps the same pressure to you despite your little twitches and grinds. Allowing you the freedom to plant your feet on the edge of the couch and simply feel. König’s lost in it. Lost in the sight of you. Your pretty mouth gaping open and your hips chasing the touch he’s providing. His breath catching when you cry out or give a weak praise for his work. Like you’re enjoyingwhat he’s doing.
But god he’s happy to stay right where you want him, how you want him. Feeling his knee dig into the harsh floorboards, and ignoring it with a refreshed feeling of duty he’d long lost as a soldier. Never had he been given such a pretty fucking prize to work for. Nothing as sweet as seeing your cunt drip from his rough fingers rubbing soft, almost too-soft circles over it. Not even realizing that he’d spent almost fifteen minutes just rubbing your clit lazily when your hand reaches back down. Happy to direct him yet again, especially when he doesn’t even need a verbal direction to do exactly what you want.
“Fingers,” You whisper through panting exhales. “Give me your fingers…”
Your little hand grabs his pointer and middle fingers, spreading your own slick over them like a goddamn professional before guiding him down to your aching hole. Letting go just long enough to feel the thick digits press though that first little ring of tightened muscle. Forcing your eyes open to witness his mostly-hidden expression as he sinks knuckle deep inside of you.
“So fucking pretty,” His head shakes a little, lost in the creamy slick gathering at the base of his fingers as he curls him up towards your pelvis just a little. Subconsciously scared to do the wrong thing, but desperate to keep your cunt flex and mold to his touch. “Tell me, sweetheart… show me what she needs.”
You’re too possessed to chase your high to not listen. Readjusting your bent legs on the couch to gently lift your hips and sink them back down. Slowly getting used to the feeling of his thick fingers, already deeper than your no-name partner. Groaning when they bump into your g-spot just hard enough to make your clit burn. Grinding against his hand and keeping one hand wrapped around his wrist just to try and ground yourself to the present situation. Lost in the rhythm of fucking yourself -quite literally- stupid within mere minutes. Beginning to hear that vulgar, sucking sound of your pussy gripping his fingers and utterly drooling over his palms.
König’s helpless to so more than sing your praise. “That’s a good girl… so good for me. Using me like a fucking toy.”
It’s the best he’s felt in a long time. Watching you take from him. Too absorbed to even think about anything other than yourself. Not in enough control to even worry about the true moans and yelps escaping you. Real pleasure wracking your body and burning every nerve ending.
“More… please more…” You cry softly, hips slowing to a painfully sexy grind as you squeeze the tendons in his wrist with your thumb.
König takes a little more initiative than he’s normally comfortably using, but adds a third finger. Slowly pumping them in and out, little by little, to help you adjust. Watching as your eyebrows pinch together in focus. A low growl rumbles in his chest, his mouth practically watering as your cunt sucks him in.
“Let me taste it, baby…” He huffs, head flinching forwards before backing off, repeating the action a couple more times. “Wanna help… just—just let me taste you…”
You clench around his fingers when he rests his cheek against your inner thigh. Big, wide eyes pleading with you so innocently like he isn’t stretching your hole wider than the biggest of your toys can with nothing but a few fingers. Forcing you to slow the roll of your hips, a shaky hand reaching out to cup his face through the mask. Rubbing a thumb over his hidden cheekbone with a little whimpered hum. Pulling his head closer to you, hissing when the hem of his hood merely grazes your clit.
“How’d you want it?” He asks, head down and pulling his mask up so you’re stuck. Forced to merely feel his mouth so close to you, and not see the shape of his mouth.
“Lick-lick my clit… s-soft…” You whine, eye shutting when the hot fan of his exhale his your fevered skin.
Holding his head steady with one hand, you almost coming up off the couch when his tongue makes one, long, lazy, lap between your folds. Gripping at the material of his hood just tight enough that he ends up ripping the whole thing off. Tossing it to the floor with an aggressive snarl that rumbles against your clit. Sparks of pleasure forcing your thighs apart and jerking your hips back up. Chasing his mouth. The rough texture of his tongue, and the slight graze of his teeth against your slicked folds.
Your orgasm approaches fast from there. Between his fingertips stroking you deep, and the new rhythm of his tongue lapping your slick up to massage your clit, it’s hard to even warn König that he can’t stop for risk of ruining your long-awaited release.
“König… K… oh… fuucckk…”
Your back arches tightly, both hands grabbing harshly at his hair with an unintelligible shout as you come. Jerking wildly and one of your feet losing it’s hold on the edge of the couch. Trying to fight through the shocks of pleasure, and groaning curses with a hoarse throat. Feeling König’s free hand latch onto your thigh to keep you from running away too far from his still-working lips and tongue. Sucking up the wet drips of release trying to drip down his hand.
“Slow, slow down.” You whimper, pushing at his forehead just a little. The pressure too much. The stretch of his fingers still satisfying but overstimulating.
Your so fucking grateful that he doesn’t fight you on it, or force you to try for another. And maybe it’s just the mere sight of you. abdominal muscles twitching, forcing your upper body to do baby-curls with each flex of your pulsing cunt. Toes curled and an all-over buzzing sensation making it hard to even make sense of where your limbs are in relation to the rest of your body, much less König or the couch your hardly laying on.
“You okay, sweetheart?” His softened voice almost gives you emotional whiplash, especially when he bends over you forehead resting against yours softly.
Gently removing his fingers with murmured apologies when your little winces mar your pretty features. Both hands sliding up your sides to help lift you back onto the couch, moving to sit himself next to you just long enough to reposition your body on his lap. Pulling that blanket back over your bottom half and maneuvering your cold, tingling feet between his thighs like he can tell they’re freezing. He presses soft kisses all over your forehead and nose. Rocking you softly and squeezing at the muscles in the back of your neck reassuringly.
“You needed that… needed to feel good…” he murmurs almost lovingly.
You nod dumbly, laying your head against his shoulder. Letting out soft nearly unconscious whimpers and a soft repetition of his name in cum-drunk appreciation.
“Told you I could listen… could be good for you,” He adds, almost like he’s reassuring himself of the idea. “Wanted to be better than him. Needed to prove it.”
He holds up your weighty head, stabilizing it with care and a sickeningly sweet look of devotion in his eyes.
“You’re never going to fake it again, sweetheart.”
Tumblr media
reblogs & comments are always appreciated <3
263 notes · View notes
spiderb00 · 22 days ago
Text
Care and love - Manon Bannerman
Manon Bannerman X Reader  Synopsis - Your girlfriend had the most stressful day of all, the least you could do was treat her like a princess.  Genre – Fluff  a/n - honestly, I found it all so cute, I want a Manon for me :( (request)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Manon had had one of the most stressful days of her life, all she wanted was to get home and rest. As soon as Manon woke up, she saw that her day was going to be bad, she spilled coffee on her new shirt, was late for her appointment, and couldn't keep up with the girls' rhythm in the new choreography they were rehearsing. Manon was quickly frustrated, wishing that this day would end as soon as possible.  
It was only when she saw a message from you coming that she seemed to let out a breath of air that she didn't even know it held. Your message was simple, nothing out of the ordinary, just a "Hello my love, how is your day going?", that was enough for Manon to want to cry right there. 
Composing herself, the girl sent an objective message, she was too tired to type anything at that moment. So, knowing your girlfriend well, you knew something was wrong when she just replied with "I'll be at 10."  
When Manon opened the door to your apartment, with the copy of the key you had given her, you were in the kitchen, finishing dinner. Manon walked to where you were quickly, wrapping her arms around your waist and resting her head on your shoulder blades. The girl stayed there for a long time, the two of you silent, just enjoying each other's warmth.   
"Hard day?" You asked, finally turning around and facing the shorter girl, Manon's hands still on your hips.   
"You can't even imagine. I kind of wanted to cry..." She says, as she passes her hands relaxedly up and down your skin.   
"Do you still want it?" You asked, of course if she wanted you would be her shoulder, where she could leave all the frustrations of that day.   
"Actually, I just want to take a shower, and be close to you." Manon says, intertwining her hands with yours.   
"Alright, I see, I've got you darling." You said, pulling away slightly, making Manon curious.   
Returning minutes later, you directed the girl to your bathroom, where she saw everything you had prepared for her. The bathtub was full, there were bath salts and lots of foam, scented candles were mirrored everywhere illuminating the bathroom, and music played softly over the speakers.   
 Again, Manon felt like crying, but not the one she had felt all day, no, this was more like a cry of joy, she was very excited to have a person who cared so much about her to do such a thing.   
"Oh my love, you didn't have to do that." She said, tears in her eyes as she stood facing you, standing on tiptoe and pulling you in for a light kiss.   
"I wanted to, besides, you deserve this, you're exhausted." You said as you guided her to take off her clothes.   
"Can you do just one more thing for me?" Manon asked unsurely.  
"Whatever you want my love." You say, looking at her with a smile that Manon found comforting.   
"Can you help me take the braids off? They're really starting to bother me now." She said, getting into the tub, you follow right behind.   
"Anything for you." You said, positioning yourself behind Manon.  
Now, Manon had her back pressed against your front, her braids slowly being delicately undone by you. Your hands seemed so soft that the girl swore she could sleep there, that moment seemed like calm in the middle of all the chaos she experienced earlier.   
When all her braids had been undone, you slowly got up from the tub, between kisses and caresses, you both put on your pajamas and soon after you were having dinner in front of the television, where Manon's favorite program was on.   
After you've washed all the dinner dishes, you and Manon immediately headed towards the bedroom, where the curly girl lay comfortably on your chest.   
"Thank you." Manon said softly.   
"You don't have to thank me, I love you, I'll do it as many times as you need." You said, kissing her forehead and pulling her to snuggle closer.  
A few minutes later, all you could hear was your girlfriend's soft breathing, and it was there, listening to her relaxed, that you fell asleep. 
Tumblr media
hihi, here I am after my relatives left
Tumblr media
126 notes · View notes