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bbokicidal · 3 months ago

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Marriage? Marriage. | Hyung Line! SKZ [OT8]

Genre : Fluff Warnings : None Pairing : Hyung Line SKZ x Fem!Reader

Notes : Ever wondered what your wedding would be like with SKZ? How they would propose? What their tux/outfit would look like? Your ring? The venue? Well I've got it all right here! (Completely w/ photo references!)

Other Notes : This is just how i picture things going down/looking. If you disagree or have other opinions, that's totally fine! But please don't go in the comments complaining it isn't how you pictured it. If you don't like it, scroll past. Thank you!

Chris

The Proposal : You'd be absolutely WRONG if you thought Chris would propose to you anywhere but Australia. He's going to plan a trip home, bring you along, and get you on the beach with his family (that includes the boys) so they can all be there for it. He'll get on one knee while you're taking pictures near the water in a sweet sundress that matched the color of his button up, give you the most heart wrenching, tear jerking, cheek blushing, romantic speak through his giggles - and then ask you to marry him while offering you the most beautiful diamond ring you'd ever seen in your life.

The Venue : Although he doesn't drink (often), Chris finds that vineyards are some of the most beautiful places he's seen for wedding venues. The wine is provided - any flavor you can think of - and the area of the ceremony is just out back by an archway covered in vines and floral scenery. The pond just behind the building is perfect for a background - and during the exchanging of vows, people coo at both your shared words with each other and the pair of swans floating along behind you.

First Look : Chris doesn't want to do a first look before the ceremony, so you wait to take pictures until that is done. But when he sees you round the corner to come down the aisle? Oh, he's red in the neck and bawling by the time you reach him - of course he's laughing through it, sniffling and laughing even more when someone reaches over his shoulder to dab his pink cheeks with a tissue - already prepared for his tears.

His Best Man : Felix - of course.

Minho

The Proposal : He goes all out - as out as he can, bringing you to Jeju Island on a vacation and doing it in the solitude of your own company. He wants it to be just you two, announcing it to the others when Jeongin notices the ring as soon as you walk into the room. The proposal goes smoothly, with him bringing you to a nicer - definitely fancy - dinner and then laying the velvet box on the table for you to open yourself. You're flabbergasted, he's a smiley, blushy mess - and now, you're both engaged.

The Venue : Minho lets you pick out the venue, which ends up being a relatively fancy building that.... is definitely older. The pillars are massive, the ceiling is high - painted with murals of angels and relics. He helps with the decorative ideas however, deciding with you that a deep and rich red should be the primary color theme with flowers and small details like pearls, beads, and banners. And it's a good idea, for sure.

First Look : He's all smiles when he sees you for the first time in your dress. Just before the ceremony and about to do photos, he turns around to find you standing behind him and immediately places his hands on your waist to tell you just how beautiful you look. He has to take it all in however, making others laugh by the way he keeps pausing mid sentence to visibly look you up and down in awe.

His Best Man : Chris - His only hyung.

Changbin

The Proposal : It's softer, sweeter - and it happens in the comfort of your own bed. With the news of a bun in the oven being revealed to the world just two weeks ago, Changbin decides that since you're both taking such a large step into having a family... then why not - you know - make it officially a family? Together forever, and all that. He whispers it to you in the early morning hours, a soft "We should get married." only to be met with a shy grin from you as you ask if he's serious. And he most certainly is.

The Venue : Taking up most of the responsibilities in funding the wedding, finding the venue, decor, food, etc. -- Changbin picks out an outdoor venue where the two of you won't get too warm and there will be plenty of space for lots of guests; Your family, his family, his friends, your friends - he wants them all there to witness the moment. There's a few buildings like a bunkhouse with a wedding suite and guest rooms for the wedding party, a building for the reception and food - and the ceremony will be outside with a large archway that he can dip and kiss you under until you're out of breath.

First Look : Changbin is aaaaaall giggles when he sees you for the first time, covering his mouth before yelling out, "yah! this is my wife?? this?? how did i bag this? look at this!" Constantly hyping you up, telling you how gorgeous you are in your ear, having you sit in his lap for pictures - Man is coooooocky, and has every right to be when you look that good.

His Best Man : Hyunjin. (Man's got both his husband & wife on either side of him.)

Hyunjin

The Proposal : So, so romantic. At an art gallery - where he had, somehow, had a piece of his art displayed. That was the reason for visiting the gallery, he said, but the real reason was so that he could propose to you in the soft silence of the building and somewhere both of you truly cherished. Felix was there, too, mostly to take photos. But also to witness his best friend bagging the most beautiful girl in the world.

The Venue : Deciding together, you both agree on a smaller venue where your families can enjoy the ceremony - and then a larger venue just down the stress where the reception and food can be held. The venue for the ceremony is quaint, with dressing rooms for the bridesmaids and groomsmen, and a larger room where you'll be wedded. The reception ceremony - well, it's big enough for all of the group to bust down some moves (and maybe some choreo from their performances.)

First Look : Hyunjin also waits until the ceremony to get his first look at you, but when he does - he nearly falls to his knees at the sight. He's in shambles, turning away for a second to gather himself before putting on a polite smile and taking your hand when you reach him. He'll be sure to lean down and tell you how gorgeous you look, however, whispering out that he's never seen anyone so beautiful in his life - and he looks in the mirror every day, so.

His Best Man : Changbin.

#stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz imagine #bangchan x reader #hyunjin x reader #changbin x reader #lee know x reader #skz scenario #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagine

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writingsonsaturn · 8 months ago

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fake dating with tim bradford?

r needs a date to a family members wedding and she wants to go with a friend and tim is more than willing. unrequited love and maybe a little smut??

dress - tim bradford

{ masterlist }

🪐: omg 2 fics in one day?? anyways this is nastyyy smut lmfao enjoy!

word count: 2.2k

content warning: minors DNI, smut, oral (fem rec), fingering, talk of emotionally abusive parents?? if i missed anything lmk!

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Your head bobbed with stress, your sister's wedding was this weekend and you still hadn't been able to find a date willing to accompany you. You had thought it would be easy, the moment you mentioned there would be an open bar you imagined people would be more than willing, but alas you had been wrong.

“Hey, L/n! You almost finished with the case file?” your friend and coworker Tim Bradford asked, “yeah it's finished” you replied with a sigh. “Then what are you stressin’ over?” He sat in front of your desk with a comforting smile, “my sister's wedding is this Saturday and I need a date, but havent got one yet.” you let out an exasperated sigh.

Your mother has been on your case lately about getting your life ‘in order’. Constantly being compared to your sister was exhausting, you were never fast enough to catch up to your sister's achievements, and none of your own were good enough. “I’ll go with you” Tim interrupted your self-deprecating thoughts, “oh god Tim, you don't have to.” you tried to deflect but Tim insisted “hey, come on it'll be fun! And your mom already knows me so it'll be more believable if i'm your date then some random dude you met on tinder.” You smiled at his kindness.

You packed up your stuff, dropping your case file onto Greys desk. “Alright, well you can’t back out now. Saturday, suit and tie, four o’ clock.” you stated, pointing your finger at him. He smiled “wouldn't miss seeing you in a fancy dress for the world!” he shouted at you with a laugh.

Tim had always been your secret little work crush, he was kind to you and always had been. You both had a similar upbringing, and you bonded over that aspect. You had transferred into the precinct after moving from Orange County, you had decided you needed a new start and the LAPD had an opening for a detective and you decided to take the opportunity.

Your mother was less than pleased that you would be moving an hour away, but you were desperate to get out of her grasp.

When you left the station your cheeks were red, and flushed. A big smile was present on your face at the image of Tim being your date to your sister’s wedding. Besides the fact he was insanely good looking, he was also just a sweet and gentle guy. Which was the complete opposite of your sister’s soon-to-be husband, and you finally felt as if you were one step ahead of your sister for the first time in your life.

On Saturday morning, you got up earlier than usual to start getting ready. Your stomach had been twisted with butterflies all morning, your dress was a navy blue fitted dress with a slit that went to your mid thigh and had a square neck. The dress flattered every aspect of your body, your hair was done in a half up half down style with a slight wave, and your shoes were black heels with securing straps going up your calf and tying just under your knee.

The sound of your heartbeat quickened as the numbers on the clock counted up towards the time you had given Tim, as if the direct moment the clock struck four there was a knock on your front door.

Walking to the front door felt like it was taking forever, every millisecond it took you to walk to the door made your body fill with that much more anxiety. You opened the door to see Tim standing in a nice black tuxedo and a bowtie, “Oh wow, you know i’ve never seen you in a tux before but i think i like it” you snorted, walking out and closing the door to lock it. “Y/n you look-” Tim seemed flabbergasted, looking you up and down “you look absolutely beautiful” he finished his compliment.

You blushed at his comment whispering a silent “thank you” before you both walked to the car, Tim opened the passenger side door for you. He ran around the backside of the car to get into the driver's side, “are you ready?” he asked with a small hint of reassurement. “Yeah! Let’s get this party started.” your voice was flat and lacked enthusiasm causing Tim to let out a hushed laugh.

The venue wasn’t far, but the high tension in the car made the journey feel like an eternity. Tim barely looked at you and his knuckles were bright white with the grip he had on the steering wheel, you weren’t sure what was wrong, and you were scared to find out. You wondered if it was possibly because of the current case he was working, you knew he was put on the task of finding the drug lord and breaking into his circle but he hadn’t told you much about it.

You had simply just let it be, not wanting anything to cause your sister’s night to be ruined. Looking to your right you watch the trees pass, you become further and further away from the city.

The wedding had gone as good as expected, your sister was giddy and excited to finally solidify her man as her husband. Tim had to hand you a tissue after your sister said her vows, although the two of you had hardships she was still your big sister and you were more than happy for her.

“Fancy seeing you here Tim, I didn’t think y/n was going to show up with anyone. Let alone someone as handsome as you.” your mother remarked, causing your mood to dampen. Tim’s arm went around your waist, pulling you towards his body, “Actually, I wanted to be here. I'm surprised I got a chance with such a great woman” Tim’s stern face glared at your mother’s as he told her off, politely.

You hid your small smile, as your mother left with an annoyed look.

“Your mom is just ridiculous,” Tim laughed.

“Oh god, I know! I'm so sorry” you said with embarrassment.

You and Tim talked on your way up to the reception hall, the conversation flowed naturally.

For a second, and only just a second, you allowed yourself to imagine Tim as your lover, the ease that came with talking to him made him feel like a breath of fresh air. Your heart deflated when the false reality you had encapsulated yourself in for a second was interrupted by your sister coming up to you, “y/n your seats are over there next to mom’s table, please just try and be nice to her, don't ruin this night for me.” your sister spoke loudly, you just nodded and walked over to the table while Tim got you two drinks.

Sitting alone was awful, your mom had free reign to talk to you without another person around, and you had no way of defending yourself without her causing a scene. “I don’t know your game y/n, but Tim is too good for you. He deserves a nice, well rounded woman. Don’t force him into a relationship with you, because you and I know damn well you aren’t good enough for him. Don’t be selfish.” your mother finished, before going back to her table to fake kindness to the others.

Tim had noticed your shift in mood and he knew why, as he waited for the drinks to be poured for the two of you he watched your mother come over. He saw the way you shrunk into yourself and your eyes glossed over, he never liked your mom, everytime she would come into the station he noticed how you immediately changed your demeanor. The way your smile would falter and your back would straighten, he hated it.

He brought the drinks over to your shared table, “Here's the drink, sorry it took so long, i'm starting to think people just came for the free alcohol” Tim tried to cheer you up with a shitty joke. You smiled only to appease him but he knew you better than you thought, “actually could you come with me to the bathroom? I don't want to get lost in this place, I think it's haunted." This time Tim’s joke landed and caused a giggle to come out of you, “Yeah, I'll protect you from the big scary ghosts'' you joked, getting up from your seat to accompany Tim on his travels.

“The men’s bathroom is just on the ri-” you were cut off by the sudden pressing of Tim’s lips to yours, you immediately kissed back with vigor. He pushed your back up against the wall, As much as you wanted this all you could hear were your mom’s word circle through your head “Tim.. I- we can’t” you tried catching your breath.

“Why y/n? Is this because you don’t want it or because your mom told you, you shouldn’t?” he questioned with a stoic face, eager to get his lips back on yours.

“You deserve someone better than me, Tim”

“You are someone better, y/n” his desperate voice needed you to understand what he was telling you.

“Do you want this?” he asked, his eyes scanning your face, trying to determine your body language. “Yes” you said quietly, afraid that this was all some cruel joke. With that he continued to kiss you, pushing you into the bathroom.

You felt his warm hands roaming your body, “do you know how long i've wanted this? How long i've wanted to feel your breathing against my skin?” Tim questioned, his lips traveling down your neck softly. You wondered if this had been some kind of sick mind trick that was being stowed upon you in your dreams, but the euphoric touches couldn't be made up.

Your head lolled back against the door as Tim’s hot breath traveled further down your body, your dress preventing him seeing everything he wanted.

You whined at the loss of contact before you noticed where he had gone, opening your eyes, you looking down to see Tim getting his knees in front of you. “Oh fuck me.” you breathed out, Tim laughed at your reaction “I would like to, but im not gonna fuck you for the first time in a venue bathroom.”

The feeling of his lip’s returned to your skin, kissing agonizingly slow up your legs. He became increasingly closer to where you needed him most, your soaked core was pulsing for him, his soft eyes looked up at you smiling, allowing his hand to travel up your dress.

“No panties? Dirty girl.” he taunted your lack of clothing, you on the other hand didn’t wear underwear because you didn't want a visible panty line, but you were fine with this too. More than fine actually.

His fingers teased your wet slit, “where do you want me?” his crisp voice asks. Your breathing hitched at the feeling of his fingers still toying with your hole, “do you want me here?” he traced your throbbing clit, “or here?” he slid his finger towards your hole.

You were finally able to pull yourself out of the feeling to talk, “I want your mouth and your fingers everywhere” you whined. He decided not to torture you any longer, finally putting his head between your thighs and having his long awaited feast. You nearly doubled over at the feeling of his tongue against your hot cunt, you had dreamed of this moment hundreds of time’s when you were alone in your bedroom.

You gripped tightly at his gelled hair, “oh fuck, Tim” you moaned trying your best to keep your voice down, but you were failing, with how good Tim’s tongue felt against you, you wouldnt care if the whole world heard you moaning his name.

He continued his abuse to your clit while simultaneously circling your dripping heat, “is all of this for me?” Tim pretended to not know the answer, he wanted to hear you say it. “All for you Tim, always all for you” you didn’t realize what you had just admitted but Tim hadn’t cared to mock you for it as it only inflated his ego. “You should’ve told me sooner, could have started taking care of you a lot sooner, pretty girl.” he spoke against you before returning to suck at you bundle of nerves.

When he determined you were ready enough, he sunk a digit into your tight cunt. You moaned louder than you had intended, “i- im gonna come” your shaking voice exclaimed.

Tim only laughed, “Already, baby? Are you that deprived?” he said in a faux concern, groaning against you when you pulled on his hair again. He thrusted his fingers in and out of you, the coil in your stomach continuing to build and tighten before it finally bursted.

He slowed down his pumping, helping you ride through your orgasm. You were breathing heavily as he got up, he held you closely in his arms doing his best to keep you upright.

“Woah, baby, relax, i've got you” he whispered in your ear and carried you over to the sink, cleaning your mess up. “I don't think I can walk.” you joked, Tim stood between your legs rubbing your thighs soothingly. “It’s okay, i'm in no rush to get back out there believe me” he laughed and tried bringing you back down from the high you were still caught in.

“You wanna ditch?” you smirked with droopy eyes, “they won't miss me”

“Yeah let’s go, need to get home so i can fuck you right”

#reader insert #the rookie #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford x you #tim bradford smut #tim bradford x fem!reader

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webslingingslasher · 6 months ago

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Hii Ik your resquests are currently closed so you obvs don’t have to do it but when you’re up for it could you please do a part 2 w nerdy Peter on their first date. But take your time to rest and everything just thought I’d put this in for good measure ❤️

*cleaning out my drafts*

pt 1.

'first time?' peter slightly turns, it's an older man, probably mid forties and he gets an instant dad vibe. he's comfortable nodding at his question.

he's been standing in front of bouquets for at least seven minutes, nothing seems right. peter wants to make the best impression, but what if he got your least favorite flowers?

'is it a date?'

peter nods again, 'yeah. and she's super out of my league.'

the dad smiles, 'they usually are.' then steps up, he takes his time looking over each flower wrapped in cellophane.

'there's not much to go wrong on, kid. don't get the artificially dyed ones and choose something with some flowers that haven't opened up all the way. they'll last longer and smell better.'

peter feels alright with speaking his nerves to him, 'what if she hates them?'

his temporary mentor picks up a bouquet, it looks beautiful, he was right. the plastic is pushed into peter's chest, his hand wraps around the stems. 'then you bought flowers for an asshole, don't make the same mistake twice.'

it makes peter feel better, he really doesn't think he's buying flowers for an asshole.

-----

you like them. at least he thinks you do, your face lit up and you were quick to do a smell test. you even told him he did a good job at picking them out.

'these are beautiful, peter!' he's lucky he didn't buy flowers for an asshole. you delicately set them down, 'these are going in my room, by the way.' you didn't dare share the beauty with the rest of the house.

'i'm glad you like them,' he really is. peter feels the need to add how nice you look, he's not too sure on how to compliment a woman but he knows he has to try.

'you um, you look very pretty.' yikes, that sounds like he doesn't think you're pretty the rest of the time. 'you always look very pretty, but this is a different kind, like, cause it's the first time i've seen you all dressed up.'

did he just tell you he likes you better this way? peter widens his eyes, the date hasn't even started and he's already sweating. 'i mean, you didn't have to dress up for me, wait, no, you dressed for yourself. but i just meant...' he really doesn't know what he meant, but you look entirely way too amused at his fluster.

'keep going, i'm really enjoying this.'

a gentle tease at his nervous personality. he really likes it coming from you.

'i'd rather not.'

you smile wide, 'i love hearing how pretty i am tonight, but actually all the time, but differently this time, but also not. and how you like my outfit, but not too much, because all my other outfits look just as good and i definitely don't dress for the male gaze.'

it sounds like you're making fun of him, but your smile tells him you actually really like it.

'don't worry, peter. i'd act the same way if you were in a tux.' peter glances down, 'should i go put one on?' biting your lip at his joke, you push his shoulder, 'next time.'

peter's head is spinning when you pull him out the door by his hand, it's been five minutes and there's already another? you must have a thing for socially awkward guys.

---

peter watches you glance around the restaurant, he hopes he picked good. it's nice, but not nice enough to be weird.

'you're pulling out all the stops for me, mr. parker.'

peter hopes you don't notice his blush, he thinks you do when you lean closer. 'i mean, flowers and a medium fancy restaurant? you're raising my standards very quickly.'

you mean it, too. peter knows he has no experience under the belt but you've been on a few dates, nothing that stuck from what he's overheard but he can't fathom how this tops any of it.

'really? i thought you would've had better dates.'

you hum, 'maybe. one question for you, then i can let you know if this is the best date.' peter can handle that, he's good at questions. 'i'm ready.'

'what can i get to drink?'

peter tilts his head, he might not be that good at questions. 'anything you want?'

it's the right answer, you grin across the table. 'i can get a coke and you won't cheap out on me?'

peter laughs, that's what he was up against? 'so i can pay for a dinner but draw the line at soda?'

you don't directly confirm it, 'some would.'

'as long as it's not rootbeer, i'm alright with it.' your eyebrow raises, 'not a fan?' peter scoffs, 'it's like the kitchen sink of sodas, it poured all the leftovers into a giant vat and lied to everyone about liking it.'

you laugh quietly, 'who's it?'

peter is completely serious, 'capitalism.' you bite back a grin as he shifts forward a little. 'so, um, was your dad mad that you canceled for me?' your fingers tap the table, 'nope. not when i told him why.'

'wow, the first dad i know who's okay with their daughter dating.'

you stop him, 'oh, he's not crazy about the dating part. he likes the who.'

peter can't help but feel slightly offended, 'am i really that non-threatening?' suddenly your dad was okay when he was the suitor? peter really is out of his league and everyone knows it.

'oh no, you're the most threatening of them all. you're the only guy i've ever liked, so my dad was excited for me, but also a little scared because you're the strongest bet at his daughter dating someone.'

peter's heart is thumping harder than it ever has, if he wasn't in your eyesight he'd be counting his pulse. he wants to kick himself a little, he has no idea how much time he's wasted by not asking sooner. how many guys have you wished were him?

he's not able to respond, but you don't mind. the waiter has your attention, when he asks for your drink you shoot a look at peter with a gleam in your eye.

'do you have rootbeer?'

peter thinks he's gonna have a girlfriend real soon.

-----

on the walk back to your home, you had forced your fingers between his. peter can't remember the last time he held hands with someone, but it feels nice holding yours.

you swing them back and forth as you talk, he thinks the deal was secured when he brushed chocolate crumbs off your cheek from dessert because immediately after you had tied your hand into his and held him close.

'i had a very nice night, and just in case you need me to say it, that was the best date i've ever had.'

peter feels shy, but it's welcomed with you. 'you're just saying that cause i bought you rootbeer.'

you bump your elbow against his, 'next time i'll buy you a milkshake.' you weren't lying, you had a nice night. so nice you want to do it again and if peter's really lucky, you'll want to keep doing it forever.

'careful, i'll hold you to that.' he really will, peter loves milkshakes.

'i will, i love milkshakes. i have a secret place i go to all the time in the west village.' peter's eyes widen, 'west village? that's a haul for a milkshake.'

you press a hand to your forehead, 'oh no! a whole afternoon with you, how yucky!' peter hides his smile, it's nice that you want him around. 'if we get milkshakes does that mean you want a second date?'

'yes. and if i do good enough you might want a third out of me.' peter laughs, it's adorable you think he might want a third date. 'we might as well plan the fourth one now, huh?'

you bounce your arm off his. 'i think you should kiss me.' peter's jolted from his date daydream. kiss? peter plays it cool. 'what, right now?' he can't hide anything, you hear an undertone of panic but you skim over it.

'well, i'd prefer if it wasn't at my front door where i'm at risk of being seen because if my dad catches you all over me before he could meet you, i don't think he'll like you anymore.'

'so i should kiss you? right now?' peter's voice is hitched, you didn't mean to throw him off his game. you know he's a little more reserved so you were giving him the open shot, but you think you stressed him out even more.

'you don't have to! i was just offering because i thought you were going to try and do something at my door.'

peter's thankful for the night sky and the cool breeze that's chilling his burning face. 'i've never kissed anyone.' peter stops walking because you stopped. you've got an open jaw and a dead stare on him.

'repeat that.'

he'd rather not. 'i've never kissed anyone.'

you shake your head, the words aren't making sense. 'one more time.'

this is kind of a nightmare. 'i've never kissed anyone.'

'you're lying, right? this is a joke?' why is peter feeling a little insulted right now? 'it's not weird. i know several people who haven't kissed anyone yet.'

you scrunch your face up. 'no, peter, i'm not judging you because you haven't. i'm confused about how you haven't. like, no girl has ever tried to kiss you?'

'no.' it's an instant answer.

'not even as a kid or something?'

'never.'

you feel offended on his behalf, oh well, more for yourself. you stand straighter and give him what he's been missing out on. 'if you'd let me, i'd love to kiss you.'

'really?' sure, peter might've scored a second date but a kiss too? his first one at that. 'yeah.' you step up, peter can feel his heart pounding. he knows he's awkward, he's unsure of his stance, he doesn't know how to lean into it.

'it's instinct. don't panic, okay?' easier said than done because peter swears he's at risk of throwing up when you loop your arms around his neck. you bounce up on your feet, just a tad, the rest of your weight brings peter down to your level.

there's a brief moment of nerves but they're not bad. it's exciting, it's thrilling, it's new. your gaze bounces between his eyes and his mouth, you think he catches on and does the same.

one final moment before you seal the deal, peter parker is going to be all yours. your heart races when you lean in, your lips brush against his feather soft.

one, two- you swear sparks fly. peter's warm and gentle. he's unsure and it makes the kiss so much better. a hesitant hold on your hips when your chest bumps his, you add a little movement- you're not trying to add too much, but god, you'd pay fat dollars to explore him further.

peter pulls away first, you almost claw him back into you. 'i'm sorry.' you lightly shake your head, he has nothing to be sorry for. 'i think i'm bad at kissing.'

'you couldn't be farther from the truth, parker. you're the best one.'

peter doesn't believe you for a second. 'really?'

'yeah. cause it's you.'

peter melts. 'i think you're an angel sent from heaven for me.' peter isn't sure if he's religious or not, and he was leaning towards not but now he thinks there has to be angels because you're proof of one.

you look away, you've never been complimented like that before. an unearthly creature whose only purpose was divine intervention, how could you not give him another kiss?

peter's surprised at this one.

'what was that for?'

'because you're really nice, super smart and kind of the hottest person i've ever seen.' compliments? you're giving him compliments? 'that's nice, but i think you're talking to yourself.'

you frown. a true grumpy look crosses over your face. 'don't do that. don't sell yourself short or act like you're not deserving of praise because i'm going to be doing a lot of it and i need you to accept it.'

before he could try to fight it, you start pulling him along. you do have a curfew after all. peter's fighting back disbelief. 'angel. i swear you're an angel.'

you shrug, 'i'm your angel.'

'you are.'

when you get home, you get a third kiss. and this time, peter kisses you.

#nerdy!peter drabbles

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trashmouth-richie · 1 year ago

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master list

eddie! x fem reader

summary: 3 years later; happy birthday

I can’t believe this is almost the end. It is so bittersweet to be uploading this and thanking you all for the continued support on this story. I hope you will miss eddie + tooty just as much as I will. The epilogue is next and then a fun little surprise for you all.

trigger warnings: fluff, sweet sweet fluff 💕

Crinkly paper streamers twist down into even boughs along the cedar planked walls. A homemade banner crafted with the best paint Melvald’s could offer, hung over the sliding patio door, freckled with glitter and deep hues of scarlet and onyx.

Carefully stenciled uniform letters spelling out a greeting for the birthday boy, line the banner— perfectly positioned.

Looking at it now, you can nearly feel the backache it caused from the leaned over pretzel position you were tangled in while attempting to make it look store bought. Instead it took hours and a ruined shirt to paint each letter with precision on your living room floor.

Red plastic cups were stacked in a corner on top of a cheap plastic table cloth adorned with paper plates and plastic utensils. A smaller card table from the Wheeler-Byer’s held a two tiered homemade cake, dolloped with sticky whipped strawberry frosting. His favorite.

Polaroids of the birthday boy were placed, in no particular pattern, with sticky tack to the wall above the card table holding the presents.

Various shots from the past year capturing adventures big and small. He had wanted that.

Wanted to remember every detail— an important step to moving forward, leaving the past in the dust and enjoying the second chance at life you had both been given.

The pictures were mostly candids, snapped in the blur of a moment, memories to be cherished for a lifetime to come. And although some of them were cheesy, or horribly cliche; they held delicate moments of the past two years of you and Eddie, together at last.

You suck the sticky remnants of frosting from your thumb as you carefully arrange a framed picture of his graduation day just so on the table, stepping back and admiring the hard work and weeks worth of planning you had done.

Your fingers dance along the sharp edges of the selected photos you had given Jonathan to print for you. 8”x10”, 5”x7”, colored, sepia tone, and even black and white you had wanted to give it more of a collage feel to the project, and Jonathan did a great job.

The pictures varied from moments that probably didn’t need to be remembered and ones that should have been taken by a professional, but it was perfect, exactly the way you had envisioned it.

A snapshot photo of Eddie’s plump lips wrapped around a brown beer bottle after a night of helping Wayne paint the outside of his trailer, his signature middle finger in the air, the rings glittering with the flash— was propped next to a candle.

One of Wayne and Eddie hugging on Christmas last year, a small tree tucked into the corner of the yellowing smoke stained walls and part of your finger covering the lens, and another one right after the first of them both looking shocked that you snapped the picture.

A picture of you and him, holding fishing poles on the bank of Lover’s Lake. His arm wrapped around your waist, your pole holding a sizable fish, his line snagged on moss and a tattered beat up tennis shoe, a proud smile on his face as he looked down at you, you mid laugh as Wayne teased Eddie behind the lens.

Another of just him in black and white, asleep on the bed you shared his dark tattoos looked piercing against his bare chested. Long angelic lashes closed against pinked warm cheeks, the silver scar barely visible on his bottom lip.

One with Eddie and the boys, sitting in the backyard, the tails of the fire licking into the sun fading sky, his hands wild in the middle of explaining a campaign idea.

A candid of Steve, Eddie, Robin and Dustin wearing their tuxes and running into the ocean. Shoes snug into the sand and socks left forgotten. Steve’s white jacket thrown into the air, half of a laughing, Leighanne all dolled up and beautiful on their big day.

A photo from the same day, but of only you and him, your lips perched on his cheek as he held you in his lap in the back of a limo. His other cheek sparkling with the residue of a lipgloss kiss, one hand holding your strappy lavender heels, the other wrapped around your waist. His dimpled smile wide and toothy.

And finally, your favorite one: one of just you and him, dressed in your homemade costumes as Mario and Luigi. A felt mustache falling from under your nose,his white gloved hands holding up rock n’ roll. Right before you two had won the Halloween costume contest at Nancy and Jonathan’s house.

Wayne had brought baby pictures that he had dug out of an old box in the forgotten storage shed when you had moved in. Dust lining the frames showing a brown haired baby with doe eyes, drooling over a washcloth while in the sink for a bath. A curly haired toddler with a big smile while on the swings at a park. And many more that were placed around the house.

The most special of them all sat on Eddie’s bedside table: a woman with soft honey muddied curls sweeping down to the middle of a white blouse, sunglasses pushed into her hair atop her head, kissing the forehead of a baby swaddled in a blanket.

“Tooty!” Gareth called from the kitchen, “phone call!”

You set the napkins next to Nancy who was meticulously adjusting the m&m dish into its correct place. Trying to balance out the clashing colors with the black and red theme.

“Looks perfect as always, Nance,” you murmur as you squeeze her arm gently when you pass her.

She huffs in disapproval, sweeping a permed curl behind her ear, her finger to her lips as she tuts, “it’s missing something.” You squeeze her arm again and trot into the living room.

Gareth is holding the blue phone by the long cord twirling it around like a pair of nunchucks, shoving the last bits of a hot dog in his mouth, ketchup wedged into the corner by his lips. “ it’s Hig D,” he announciates horribly, “somthin’ about heddie— shit that’s good— something about them just getting ready to leave work.”

laughing at him you can only roll your eyes, “you’ll make a good whore someday deep throatin’ like that,” you tease, taking the phone from his hand.

Gareth chuckles and shoves your shoulder, “haven't had any complaints yet, Oh! By the way, I need a three day extension on rent. Cool?”

Rolling your eyes again, a smile escapes your lips as you flip him off.

Of all of Eddie’s friends, Gareth was the hardest one to crack, but now he was easily your favorite. He reminded you a lot of Eddie in high school. A wild haired mess, always down for a crazy adventure to surely land him into trouble. But a big ol softie when it came down to people he cared about, especially Will.

Curling your fingers around the telephone cord, you talk into the receiver, “hey D, what’s up?”

—-

Argyle and Jonathan arrive through the front door, smelling like purple palm tree delight and balancing pizza boxes in their arms.

Robin spins at least a dozen times trying to find a place for the tower of cheesed pie and nearly knocks into Jonathan in her pursuit of frenzy. The boys slide them into place onto a card table against the kitchen wall, a photo of you and Eddie holding the keys to Hop’s cabin with wide grins on your faces hanging above it.

The brisk May breeze flows through the house, flickering the candles and making the helium balloons bump into one another in a lazy staticky dance.

A blur of red stalks into the house holding two bottles of liquor in each hand, a baseball hat backwards on her head, “hope Eddie likes whiskey because that’s all Walt would sell me,” she says heaving the bottles onto the counter in a clunkered manner, wiping the sweat from her freckled forehead, sporting a fresh new bob cut all thanks to you, “stubborn ass, he charged me nearly double,” she huffs, folding the paper sacks haphazardly, “son-of-a-bitch wouldn’t even let me use my employee rate!”

“Thanks for getting it Maxi-pad,” you say over your shoulder stifling a giggle from the old nickname you hadn’t called her since middle school, “Eddie’ll drink beer from a boot as long as he got a buzz from it—let me know what I owe you.”

She spins on squeaky sneakers and grabs a slice of pizza from one of the leaning boxes, squishing the greasy cheese between her teeth, talking with a mouthful “quit— we’re square for all the times you’ve come over since moving back.”

A sad expression falters behind the mask on her porcelain complexion. But she’s quick to shove it all away. It had been months since she’d been back in Hawkins, and your friend since elementary school was just starting to get her life back into order.

“Eddie’s offer still stands by the way,” you gently whisper, turning away from placing candles into the pink frosting to give her a quick squeeze, the fringes of your friendship mending together after years of not really speaking.

Holding Max at arms length you raise your eyebrows at her, “I’m serious,” a clip in your voice that even Nancy would envy.

She shrugs quickly and looks back with wet blue eyes, not willing to let her guard down on the eve of a party, “I’ll think about it,” her jaw set tight.

“Let's have fun tonight, okay?” she begs, “it isn’t every day Eddie’s old decrepit ass turns forty.”

The giggle she was hoping for to ease the tension tickled your throat, “he’s twenty nine, Maxine,” you tease back.

“Oh-ho-ho,” she chuckles, crossing the linoleum to the fridge in a swift motion, throwing open the door and leaning into the illuminated box, fingers dancing along the brown neck of a Bud Light, a smug smile on her salmon lips, “government names huh, T? I’ll remember that.”

—

Will and Mike were in charge of moving vehicles behind the north tree line away from the driveway and out of sight. Each car owner silently held their breath and the litter of anxiety rising higher as Mike got behind the wheel of each car. 13 tickets by Hopper’s deputies hadn’t slowed him down yet.

Leighanne, and El had just finished hanging the decorative white lights on the back deck and around the trees. The backyard looked like a little cozy oasis. And it warmed your soul to see it all come together.

It was rough when you had first moved in here. Hopper had a buddy who owned the cabin you now call home. It was far from town but hadn’t been renovated in years. Nothing a little elbow grease and nights after work wouldn’t fix, it took six months with help from just about everyone you knew, but the place was perfect.

And after everything that happened in Hawkins, Eddie’s promise stuck.

He got you both out. Started a new life away from the wandering eyes and whispered lies. Even after he was cleared, people still wouldn’t let it go.

But, the cabin was everything you could imagine and more. Perched into a thick grove of trees. Secluded. Secretive. Exactly what you both needed.

It was heaven.

Lounging on blankets in the soft grass, bare toes curled into the soft comforter, the girls sat back and laughed as Steve nearly tipped over the entire pan of grilled burgers and hot dogs.

“Yeah laugh it up you two!” Steve scolded playfully, tugging and shoving a hand into the thick tuft of hair on his head, “you won’t be laughing when there’s nothing to eat!”

“Such sass from The Grill Master,” Leighanne giggled, covering her mouth with a delicate hand, a large diamond on her ring finger.

Before Steve could whip up something cheeky, Arygle’s smooth baritone voice broke amongst the laughs, “Damn my dude,” he chuckled, leading Eden’s small frame through the patio door, “smells good out here.”

Steve huffs again, “Thanks, I’m just doing what I’m told, don’t mind the peanut gallery back there,” he gestures with his spatula to the two giggling gals on the blanket.

The keg was perched on the small back deck, ice melting slowly around the tin base. Steve had been grilling burgers for the last half hour, smears of grease rubbed on the bottom of his red apron embossed with fancy lettering, kiss the cook.

“And you’re doing it man,” Argyle salutes him as a fellow culinary soldier, “it’s art what you’re doing dude, pure fuckin art—like Picasso if he was a chef… piSteveo.”

“Okay man—yeah, I get it,” Steve says all in one breath, rolling his eyes and cracking a grin back at his bride who was biting her own cheek and trying not to laugh. “Dustin and Susie ride with you?”

“Yeah,” Eden scowls, crossing her legs and dragging Argyle down to sit on the picnic bench, her black pixie cut fluttering in the light breeze resembling a real life goth tinkerbell, “that four eyed little shit kept going on and on about the ecosystem and methane gas or whatever, so yeah they’re here— probably terrorizing everyone else about the election or some shit.”

Steve snorts and flips another burger onto the grates, the sizzle of charred seasoned beef signaling the first signs of summer, “sounds about right.”

“Alright guys,” you say stepping through the sliding patio door, the sun close to setting in the west taking the warmth with it, “D said they’re just leaving so everyone get in position.”

“..I’m just sayin’ is all,” D barks, finishing wiping the grease from a gas station bean burrito on the back of his hand from his pudgy lips, “I’ll give you top dollar for it.”

Eddie took another sip from his Mt. Dew, barreling down the highway and thumping his thumb along the steering wheel, contemplating heavily on what Big D had been asking of him.

“fuck I dunno man… it’s like a part of me y’know?”

Eddie rubs the beginning of his scruffy chin, unable to grow a full beard even though he’s nearly in his thirties, Peter Pan syndrome hitting him square in the jaw.

“had it since I was fifteen, fixed it all up with my uncle,” he mumbles lighting a cigarette between his teeth, “it’s a staple to the Munson name.”

D rolls his eyes and tosses the foil wrapper to the floorboards of Eddie’s truck. “that was like twenty years ago man, you don’t even drive it anymore.”

Eddie chuckles through a cloud a smoke, turning the steering wheel to the right down the hidden driveway, overgrown grass on both ends of a rotted through fence post, “easy there asshole— ‘sides, thought you were buying Jeff’s mom’s car?”

D slides belches loud and throws his chubby hand out the window, fresh air wiggling his fingers slowly, “I did, just gotta fix it up, but the van would be my daily driving chick magnet.” He wiggles his eyebrows like two black caterpillars dancing a tango.

Eddie smiles to himself, memories of past times booze cruising to Rick’s and hauling band equipment to the Hideout. Times long gone and fading like the moon into dawn.

A time when he was ruthless, chaotic and hungry for the world’s shittiness just so he could add his own fucked up version to it. A big fuck you to anyone who ever doubted him.

A time before you were officially his.

Nowadays the bear inside of him was tame, licking its paws in laziness, hibernating with the sounds of a calm beating heart. Fed and cared for, content.

“We’ll see,” he replies, blowing smoke out of the corner of his mouth, “you still owe me $40 for that service you gifted to that waitress last week, fucker.”

“Pffft,” D says lighting a cigarette, “take it out of my check boss man.”

Eddie cranked his lips into a smirk, it still didn’t feel real.

The roar of Eddie’s diesel truck echoes along the tree line, vibrating against the fallen branches from the late winter storm that snapped full grown Red Oaks like matchsticks when the ice built heavy onto its branches.

The cabin lights were dim, curtains pulled tight to barely show the glimpse of any crack of light. It wasn’t unusual, your lives were kept pretty private after everything that happened, doors always locked.

“The hell?” Eddie grumbled, wiggling the stick into neutral with the palm of his hand and killing the engine, the old dodge sputtering out to quiet, “thought you said Gareth was comin’ over to practice tonight?”

D fumbled for words, reaching for the metal door handle “no, yeah he’s here— maybe Will dropped ‘im off.”

Eddie quirked an eyebrow, the exhaustion from work taking over his features as he let out a loud yawn and arched his back against the velour seats, he climbed out of the pickup, lunchbox in tow.

“alright man, ‘m just gonna shower quick,” he hooks a thumb behind his shoulder, walking up the stone path to the front door, “think Tooty still has the hose hooked up if you wanted to rinse off.”

D stomps around the truck, leaning a thick arm onto the hood, “don’t make any special accommodations for me dude, I’m cool.”

“Yeah yeah you’re pretty cool alright,” Eddie said climbing the two steps with heavy footsteps, and putting a brass key into the knob, twisting it in his grasp, “why’d you think I had the window dow—”

Eddie is almost knocked back into the wall by the room full of his friends shouting surprise! as he entered the cabin.

Shock and a racing heartbeat wash away to a dimpled smile and squinted eyes. It was worth the weeks of planning and aligning everyone’s schedules to make it all work out. And in the end, the crowd turned into a blur when you peaked your head behind the kitchen wall grinning wide at the handsome man at the door.

His girl. His one and only. Spoiling him with a surprise party. Mouthing “happy birthday baby,” from across the room with a warm smile that still was able to tinge his cheeks in the prettiest shade of bashful.

Backs were slapped and shoulders clapped as Eddie made his way around to the guests. His smile was wide and toothy, lighting up the room with his deep laugh and dimples.

He hugged friends like he hadn’t seen them in years, pressed cheek to cheek and apologizing later for grease smudges left on their shirts.

“Shit,” Wayne breathed, as he stepped into the doorway, finding you immediately and looking sympathetic, “sorry we’re late, the missus was wrappin’ a last minute gift.”

Nancy and Mike’s mom stood tucked beneath Wayne’s arm. Four gifts wrapped tight and pristine, held in her arms. The alimony from Ted was still treating her more than well.

“Wayne,” Karen giggles like a schoolgirl, a long manicured hand to his denim jacket, dismissing him with a wink, “here Tooty,” she gleams, walking towards you with her arms outstretched, embracing you in a hug, “it’s just a little something for the two of you, saw it at the mall and couldn’t resist!”

It was an adjustment for the youngest Wheeler when Karen left Ted. Nancy and Mike didn’t seem to care, having already been moved out of the house and living their own lives. But Holly took it hard, refusing to see her mother at all.

“It’s perfect thank you Karen,” Eddie said, sneaking around you, his fingers dragging along your lower back and down your hip, sending shivers to your core. A quick wink to you as he grabs the gifts from her and Wayne.

He was happy for them, he had never seen Wayne with someone who treated him so well before in his life, he gave his shoulder a squeeze, “next time put your glasses on so you can see while driving, might get here on time, old man.”

Wayne rolled his eyes and put Eddie in a headlock, “I ain’t here to see you anyhow, came to see my favorite daughter in law to be if you’d just marry her already, didn’t even know it was your birthday you little punk.”

“Yeah yeah,” Eddie scoffed, “that’s why it says ‘Ed’s birthday’ on the calendar in your office, right? Because you didn’t know?”

Wayne releases Eddie and gives him a side hug, “been celebratin’ this day for twenty-three years with y’ boy, I ain’t never forgettin’”

Karen was always like a mother to you. The Wheeler’s held such a special place in your heart, and you’d always be grateful for the kindness both her and Ted had shown you when you were growing up. Seeing her now with Wayne surprisingly wasn’t that odd. They balanced each other well.

Wayne pulls you into the other side of him, keeping you and Eddie under each arm, “looks real good in here darlin’” He says, looking down at you with icy blue eyes, “sure am glad y’ learned how to tame this wild li’l shit.”

you smile up at the Munson’s and Eddie sticks out his tongue at you.

“Now,” he says addressing only Eddie, “I swear on my mama and daddy’s graves, Ed, you better marry this girl someday or ‘m gonna hang y’ from your toes by that clothesline out back.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, but before he can speak, Nancy waves at her mother and stands atop a metal chair.

“Alright everyone, let’s go out back and we can start eating.”

Once the room emptied it was just you and Eddie. The tension was always thick in every room you were in with him, electric in ways that buzzed between your legs and made your head feel fuzzy.

You waited your turn patiently.

Eddie coins a coy grin behind his plump lips, walking with his hands behind his back and moving his shoulder low, cocking his head.

Your hands, busy themselves with arranging presents, fingers slipping between the silky ribbons and plucking the ends to watch them curl. Warm arms surround your waist and you act surprised and let out a squeal.

He sets you down and pushes the collar of your shirt to the side, pressing his lips like angel’s wings to the skin on your shoulder, relishing in the way the goosebumps crawled across your flesh.

“Eddie,” you hum, working your fingers behind you to pull on the tendrils of sweaty hair tucked behind his neck.

“Hmm?” He breathes hot across your neck, working his way up to the dainty gold necklace, the same one brandishing the ring he gave you for Christmas in 1992, nothing compared to the one he was eyeballing at the jewelry store in the mall.

Rubbing the underside of your chin with the bulb of his nose, you shudder and feel his grin on your skin, “all of this for me?”

You nod and whine when a large hand dances across the waist of your jeans. And almost let out a moan when he nips at your earlobe.

Eddie’s work days were long but the nights spent between the sheets were longer, both of you never getting enough of each other. The passion and static was always there.

“Wanted to surprise my birthday boy,” you breathed as your head fell back into his shoulder, and he bucked his hips into you, pushing you into the rickety table and shaking the presents.

“You’re too good to me,” Eddie whispered into your ear, his fingers digging into your hips. “How am I ever going to thank my pretty gir—?”

“Hey you guys comin’ or what?” Steve asks, hands on his hips and a scorch mark on his apron, “Nancy’s making a fucking seating chart out there, and I really hope you have liability insurance because Argyle is trying to teach Dustin yoga.”

Eddie takes his lips from your neck and turns to face Steve, “I mean, we coulda been if you hadn’t barged in.”

“Eddie!” you laugh, slapping his chest lightly, and straightening your shirt, “we’ll be right out Steve, just going to give Eddie his birthday present.”

His eyes sparkle in mischievous wonder, “oooh you think we have time?” He says unbuttoning his work blues, “I like the way you think dirty sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes and tug him down the hallway to your bedroom.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve mutters under his breath, shaking his head and making his way through the patio door, “nah don’t worry I’ll entertain the guests,” he says in annoyance, “maybe we can play parcheesi or hotdog Jenga.”

—

“Don’t peek!”

“Oh c’mon!”

“Eddie.”

“Ugh fine, but you better be naked or I’ll pout.”

“Such a brat...”

“Don’t act surprised babe.”

“Alright open, but I am very much still dressed, that part of your present is later tonight.”

Eddie had showered and was getting dressed shoving his feet into a worn pair of converse when you waltzed into the room, a small oblong box behind your back.

Dropping the carefully wrapped present into his awaiting hands, he holds the box like a carton of eggs. One eye peeked open, “well,” Eddie says rubbing the corners of the box with the calloused pads on his thumbs, “this doesn’t feel like a puppy.”

“You poor boy,” you tease with a shove to his shoulder, and a kiss to his cheek, “how will you ever live?”

Eddie tears the paper with a hook of his finger where the tape joins the pieces, wet tendrils of hair dripping water marks onto the wrapping, “it’ll be hard but I think I’ll manage.”

Biting your lip in anticipation you watch as Eddie tears the paper in boyish glee. And you aren’t sure who’s smile is wider when he finally opens the small rectangle shaped box.

It took awhile to save up for it. Cutting countless heads of hair in the renovated room above Master Mechanic’s, the auto shop Eddie co-owned with Wayne in Bridgeport, and earning a small wage by cleaning houses for a few hours on the weekends.

But every scrubbed toilet, every rolled perm rod was worth it when Eddie opened his present.

“It's about time you saw them live, yeah?”

Tickets to Metallica, the same gift. But this time with the promise of actually going and witnessing their magic.

“Oh baby,” Eddie nearly cried, running his fingers over the inked words carefully, he set the tickets down on the comforter and wrapped his hands around your waist pulling you into him, “why are you so good to me?”

And just like the first time he asked you, years ago, before you were his and he was yours. When you were just roommates exchanging gifts on Christmas. You told him what you should have then.

but you don’t fight to find the words anymore, or wonder if it’ll sound dumb. Everything you've been through with Eddie you could never imagine living life with anyone other than him.

The words come easy, and it’s one of the truest things you’ve ever said.

“Because you’re a good man. Because you’re the reason I wake up smiling every morning. Because I have never loved anyone the way that I love you, and I’ll always, always regret not telling you sooner.”

Eddie smiles with a quivering lip and you lean down to wipe the tears from his eyes, his arms wrap around you tight like a vice grip.

Looking into his eyes, he somehow looked better with every year passing, truly aging like fine wine, and you were drunk on him.

“Don’t cry on your birthday baby, it’s supposed to be a party,” you smile warmly at him, bringing his chin up a bit

so you can press a gentle kiss to his lips.

Pulling you into him so you’re straddling his hips, he whispers an I love you into your ear with your real name attached at the end, all satiny on his breath like a Hershey kiss.

You don’t hear your God given name very often, having hated it for as long as you remember. Stubbornly telling everyone at a young age that your name was Tooty. Even writing it on all of your school papers as early as kindergarten.

But when Eddie said it, it set your soul on fire. Like a secret kept finally being told. Like another wall breaking down with him holding the sledge hammer. Like the first bite of a warm brownie from the oven. It felt good.

He presses slow kisses into your neck and moves his large hands to rock your hips against him, “you’re never gonna get rid of me, you know that right?”

“Fuck I hope not,” you whisper as you nip at his bare shoulder, “I made your favorite cake for tonight and everything.”

“Mmm,” Eddie purrs against the column of your throat, “strawberry?”

Gathering skin between your teeth you suck a small bruise into his pale neck, tongue swirling soft then firm, his pretty noises filling the bedroom walls.

“Yep,” you breathe with swollen lips, and popping the ‘p’, “extra frosting.”

“Lady evil at it again,” Eddie teases, capturing your lips into a hungry kiss, his hands scoring down your back and bringing your hips impossibly closer to where you were both aching.

You giggle as he breaks away, and tickles your sides. He flips you onto the bed. The bulb of his nose wedging between your neck and shoulder as his hips hold you in place, his fingers dig into your armpits, and your ribs.

You laugh until your face is red and your neck is slick and painted with a stain of raspberry teeth marks and the lap of his tongue licking the bites better.

He gives you a wicked grin, out of breath and his lips swollen, his demeanor changes into something serious.

He holds his hand on your cheek, sweeping your skin delicately with the pad of his thumb, holding you so gently as if you were made of porcelain, “I’m gonna make you my wife.”

Your fingernails scratch lightly down his chest, skipping over the tattoo of little angel wings and a halo for the unborn child you didn’t get the luxury of holding, matching the one on your inner arm. The date etched below in Eddie’s own handwriting.

It wasn’t the only new tattoo he had gotten since that day.

He also had a mockup of a cartoon lady, devil horns on her head and a long black demon tail wagging behind her, that sat on his bicep. A pout identical to yours on her pretty little face, arms crossed in a fit. ‘my girl’ in old English font beneath her little stiletto heels.

Your fingertips trace the lines of blank ink on his chest. And you lift your eyes to his.

Opening your soul to him for the millionth time, spreading its wings and joining with his into that dream land he swore he’d take you to, dancing on the rings of Saturn, bathing in the springs of Jupiter.

He smiles softly and so do you, heart soaring and beating fast, “about damn time,” you whisper softly just before his lips close around yours.

Although your life would never be the same after that awful day, the one you were crafting and coloring outside the straight black lines with Eddie by your side, was pretty damn great.

And you wouldn’t change a thing.

🤧

🏷️

@bebe07011 @dashingdeb16 @hiscrimsonangel @luxaeterna13 @enam3l

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #fic recs #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #honey I’m home series

596 notes · View notes

hotvintagepoll · 7 months ago

Text

Propaganda

Kim Novak (Vertigo, Bell, Book, and Candle)— She fought as much as she could to be able to preserve her own identity within the crushing hollywood system. She refused to change her czech last name and fought for a higher salary once she discovered her male counterparts were getting payed significantly more, which was an incredibly risky thing to do. She went through so much hollywood bs like she was forced to drop her affair with Sammy Davis jr. She played her iconic role in Vertigo thinking about her own oppressive and significant changes she had to undergo in order to fit in the tight hollywood mold which i think is partly why the movie is so beautiful and timeless. She is a gorgeous soul and a great artist.

Marlene Dietrich (Shanghai Express, Witness for the Prosecution, Morocco)—Bisexual icon, super hot when dressed both masculine and feminine, lived up her life in the queer Berlin scene of the 1920s, central to the 'sewing circle' of the secret sapphic actresses of Old Hollywood, refused lucrative offers by the Nazis and helped Jews and others under persecution to escape Nazi Germany, the love of my life

This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Kim Novak:

Marlene Dietrich:

ms dietrich....ms dietrich pls.....sit on my face

its marlene dietrich!!!! queer legend, easily the hottest person to ever wear a tuxedo, that hot hot voice, those glamorous glamorous movies…. most famously she starred in a string of movies directed by josef von sternberg throughout the 1930s, beginning with the blue angel which catapulted her to stardom in the role of the cabaret singer lola lola. known for his exquisite eye for lighting, texture, imagery, von sternberg devoted himself over the course of their collaborations to acquiring exceptional skill at photographing dietrich herself in particular, a worthy direction in which to expend effort im sure we can all agree. she collaborated with many other great directors of the era as well, including rouben mamoulian (song of songs), frank borzage (desire), ernst lubitsch (angel), fritz lang (rancho notorious), and billy wilder (witness for the prosecution). the encyclopedia britannica entry im looking at while compiling this propaganda describes her as having an “aura of sophistication and languid sexuality” which✔️💯. born marie magdalene dietrich, she combined her first and middle names to coin the moniker “marlene”. she was a trendsetter in her incorporation of trousers, suits, and menswear into her wardrobe and her androgynous allure was often remarked upon. critic kenneth tynan wrote, “She has sex, but no particular gender. She has the bearing of a man; the characters she plays love power and wear trousers. Her masculinity appeals to women and her sexuality to men.” in the 1920s she enjoyed the vibrant queer nightlife of weimar berlin, visiting gay bars and drag balls, and in hollywood her love affairs with men and women were an open secret. she was an ardent opponent of nazi germany, refusing lucrative contacts offered her to make films there, raising money with billy wilder to help jews and dissidents escape, and undertaking extensive USO tours to entertain soldiers with an act that included her a playing musical saw and doing a mindreading routine she learned from orson welles. starting in the 50s and continuing into the mid-70s she worked largely as a cabaret artist touring the world to large audiences, employing burt bacharach as her musical arranger.

First of all, there are those publicity photos of her in a tux. Second of all, I have never been the same since knowing that she sent copies of those photos to her Berlin lovers signed "Daddy Marlene." Not only is she hot in all circumstances, but she can do everything from earthy to ice queen. Also, she kept getting sexy romantic lead parts in Hollywood after the age of 40, which would be rare even now. She hated Nazis, loved her friends, and had a sapphic social circle in Hollywood. She also had cheekbones that could cut glass and a voice that could melt you.

Her GENDER her looks her voice her everything

“In her films and record-breaking cabaret performances, Miss Dietrich artfully projected cool sophistication, self-mockery and infinite experience. Her sexuality was audacious, her wit was insolent and her manner was ageless. With a world-weary charm and a diaphanous gown showing off her celebrated legs, she was the quintessential cabaret entertainer of Weimar-era Germany.”

The bar scene in Morocco awoke something in me and ultimately changed my gender

youtube

"Her manner, the critic Kenneth Tynan wrote, was that of ‘a serpentine lasso whereby her voice casually winds itself around our most vulnerable fantasies.’ Her friend Maurice Chevalier said: ‘Dietrich is something that never existed before and may never exist again.’”

"Songstress, photographer, fashion icon, out bisexual phenom (notoriously stole Lupe Velez and Joan Crawford's men, and Errol Flynn's wife, had a torrid affair with Greta Garbo that ended in a 60-year feud, other notable conquests including Erich Maria Remarque -yes, the guy who wrote All Quiet on the Western Front- Douglas Fairbanks Junior, Claudette Colbert, Mercedes de Acosta, Edith Piaf), anti-Nazi activist. Marlene was a bitch - she had an open marriage for decades and one of her favorite things was making catty commentary about her current lover with her husband, and her relationship with her daughter was painful- but she was also immensely talented, a hard worker, an opponent of fascism and the hottest ice queen in Hollywood for a long time."

youtube

"She can sing! She can act! She told the Nazis to fuck off and became a US citizen out of spite! She worked with other German exiles to create a fund to help Jews and German dissidents escape (she donated an entire movie salary, about $450k, to the cause). She looks REALLY GOOD in a suit. If you're not convinced, please listen to her sing "Lili Marlene". Absolutely gorgeous woman with a gorgeous voice."

Gifset link

"Bisexual icon and Nazi-hater. Looks absolutely stunning in the suits she liked to wear. 'I dress for the image. Not for myself, not for the public, not for fashion, not for men'."

"would you not let her walk on you?"

#marlene dietrich #kim novak #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 4 #Youtube

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cillianmesoftlyyy · 11 months ago

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could you write one shot of the reader crying bc she’s insecure dating cill?:)

Nerves | young!Cillian x fem!Reader

Summary: Its the night of the Drama Desk Award Show (2012) and the up and coming star Cillian Murphy has a new girlfriend. She loves him but she still struggles to overcome her insecurity when it comes to being with Cillian. Hours before the show, she finally confides in him and he does everything he can think of to make her feel better before the big night.

Warnings: Self-deprecation and insecurity, anxiety, crying, smut, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), after-care. Heavily inspired by the Golden Globes show last night where Cillian had lipstick on his nose lol. This is a fictional story that does not reflect Cillian Murphy in reality- it is purely delusional lol. Cillian is not married in this- no hate towards Yvonne, please.

work count: 2815k

Warning sign- Coldplay 🎶

note: I hope I did your request justice :)

Minors do not interact. Not proof read- sorry folks!

She was going completely insane. There was no way in hell that Cillian Murphy actually loved her. He was the most attractive man she had ever met and the kind of guy who talked very little which meant that she talked more than she would have liked just to fill the silence when they first started dating. She beat herself up about it on a regular basis, mortified how she seemed to say the most ridiculous things to Cillian and watched as he chuckled politely. She tried to tell herself that she was beautiful, that other people found her beautiful, and that she was degrading herself for no reason. But that didn’t stop the constant weight of insecurity settling on her shoulders whenever she was with him. She felt unattractive, like the kind of girl that never got the guy, and it was affecting her mental health.

She told herself over and over again as she got ready for the award show that Cillian had chosen her, that he wouldn’t be with her if he didn’t love her. Once she had prided herself on her confidence and even-tempered personality but she felt the exact opposite whenever she was alone with him. Being in public was a little easier, she could hide behind the absurdity of the paparazzi, she could take Cillian’s hand because he was leading her away, etc. But once they were alone, she felt insecure and a little delusional because none of it felt real… and maybe none of it was. Maybe this was all a fantasy but that couldn’t be because Cillian was real and the assistants swarming her with hair tools and makeup swatches were certainly real too.

They had started officially dating a few months before, right after his play Misterman was officially done touring. They’d gone on a few dates here and there but everything suddenly got serious after closing night, she honestly couldn't even remember how it happened. Now, don’t get her wrong, he loved being with Cillian but like so many girls (and others), she struggled to feel adequate in her relationship with Cillian. He was such an amazing performer and just so downright beautiful that it intimidated her. She was working as an author and happened to go to a party that Cillian was also at in New York City. They were introduced and she was surprised how shy he was, even as an already famous actor. And though she talked incessantly because she was afraid of awkward silence, he’d still asked her out on a date.

The rest had obviously led up to this moment in a small hotel room where they were both getting ready for The Drama Desk Award show in NYC. One of her assistants helped her choose a dress from a local upscale department store and they decided on a red velvet dress with a very simple silhouette. It was laced tightly around her waist and the hem ended mid-thigh. Cillian, ever the practically dressed man, wore a simple tux and styled his hair with a sticky product. Once they were dressed, their assistants left, telling them that a car would arrive to take them to the show. Cillian stepped out of the bathroom where he was checking his hair and snapped off the bright yellow light, his eyes fell on her.

��Wow, look at you,” Cillian smiled as she turned around in the mirror, checking that the back looked ok.

“Do you like it?” She laughed self-consciously and put her hands on her hips.

“Mhm, it's beautiful.” He licked his lips and she blushed deeply, feeling the rush of blood through her body like a little girl with a crush.

“Hey, hey, come here! You’re blushing,” Cillian caught her wrist and pulled her around to face him. She looked to the side, smiling. “That’s so cute.”

“Stop it, Cill,” she swatted him away but he caught her waist between his palms and held her still, his piercing blue eyes holding her like a magnet.

“What’s wrong?” His smile softened and he ran his thumbs across her velvet bodice. She took a deep breath and tried to smile normally.

“I’m just nervous,” she shrugged.

“About being in front of so many people?”

“No, not really. I don’t mind that so much.”

“Then why are you nervous?” He furrowed his brow and shifted his weight on his feet, stepping closer.

“I’m,” she started but his closeness distracted her. He was so close that his breath dragged across her forehead and displaced some of her hair. They’d only had sex twice because it was still so early in their relationship. She had an apartment in New York but Cillian had gotten a room in a hotel nearby as well, not wanting to force himself into her private life. When he was doing Misterman he stayed with a friend and had visited her only a few times when their schedules aligned. In their absence from one another, a sense of sexual depravity heightened between them. Even just thinking about Cillian in bed with her made her catch her breath, nearly choking on her own oxygen.

“I’m just,” she started again, her eyes caught on Cillian’s lips. Cillian’s eyes were on her’s and she shivered under his gaze. “I’m just nervous being around you.” She finished finally and looked up at him for his reaction. He snapped away from his trance and raised an eyebrow.

“Why’s that?”

She shook her head, not breaking eye contact. Her hands clasped around his forearms, his hands still tight around her waist.

“It's just hard to be vulnerable, you know? It’s hard being with someone else when you’re more comfortable being by yourself. And… well, sometimes I don’t feel good enough to be with you.” She started to cry and wiped the tears quickly from her face, embarrassed. His concern changed to a wide smile.

“Ah,” Cillian threw back his head and laughed lightly, his dark hair shifting from his forehead, “really? You don’t think you’re good enough to be with me? Sweetheart, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on. You’re a best-selling author and smart as hell, I’m fucking intimidated by you.” He moved his hands to cup her face, his thumbs pressing into the soft flesh on her cheeks.

“But you’re Cillian Murphy.” She emphasized and moved her hands to his belt loops.

“Then remember, sweetheart, that you’re Cillian Murphy’s girl.” She smiled, adding a self-deprecating emphasis on his own name. She blushed again and he laughed, “you’re blushing again!”

“Jesus christ,” she hid her face in her hands and turned away. Cillian laughed and kissed her bare shoulder. When she pulled her hands away from her face, he wrapped his arms around her chest from behind. They stared at each other in the mirror.

“I think you’re going to win, Cill.” She whispered with a closed smile. He scoffed jokingly.

“I’m flattered but I really doubt it.”

“I think you will.” She shrugged.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She nodded and leaned back against him. He licked his lips and smiled slyly.

“Well, then if I win, as you say I will, I want to spend the night with you.”

“Oh? Is that the deal?” She laughed and resisted his strong hold around her, “what happens if you lose?” She frowned jokingly.

“Hmm,” he thought, “maybe you’ll still fuck me because you feel so bad for me.” “Do you really want me, Cillian?” She asked seriously and he paused, watching her closely.

“Do you not believe me?” He asked seriously back, his eyebrow raised.

“No, not really,” she whispered and he looked at her sadly for a moment, trying to understand where this insecurity came from and what he could do to relieve its pressure on her psyche. He looked down at his watch and stepped away from her, leaving her in the center of the mirror’s reflection.

“Take off your dress.” He whispered, meeting her eyes in the mirror. She shook her head.

“What?”

“Take it off, darling.”

She looked down at her dress and then back at him. He stood patiently behind her, waiting.

“We have time so do as I ask, please.” He nodded to her dress, “take it all off.”

She very slowly undid the ties at her back, loosening the dress around her waist. She kicked off her flats and took a deep breath before letting her dress slip from her chest down to the carpeted floor. She was left in her bra and underwear, both red to hide beneath the red dress. He sighed deeply, his pupils expanding childishly. He sat back on the edge of the bed and rested his head in his palm.

“Go on.” He encouraged and she reached behind her back, undoing the bra and casting it to the side. Then she removed her underwear, standing completely nude in the mirror. Her heart pounded against her chest.

“This, this is why I want you.” He nodded to her body. He stood and stopped behind her, his hand reaching around to her navel. “I’ve been thinking about you for so long, it was driving me crazy.” He whispered against her ear. His hand trailed up her stomach to her top rib and stayed there, not yet touching her breast.

“Every part of you is perfect,” he continued, his hand sliding down to her thighs and then up to her breasts where he finally cupped them. Every ridge and roll of fat fell below his hand as he explored her body. She shuttered.

She suddenly felt a small surge of confidence. “Do you masturbate about me?”

He looked at her and smiled shyly, “yeah… yeah.” He shook his head, “like I’m a fucking teenage boy. I feel like I need you all the time.” He gasped quietly against her bare skin.

She turned and pressed herself against his chest, wrapping her arms around his neck. She kissed him giddily and he smiled against her lips. His hand cupped her cunt as he kissed her back. She gasped at his touch and unbuttoned his pants. He kicked off his loafers and picked her up. She wrapped her legs around his hips as he laid her down on the hotel’s bed. She could feel his erection against her cunt as she fell onto the soft mattress. She sat up and pushed his dress jacket from his shoulder and tossed it carefully to the side. He was still in his dress shirt and bowtie as he pulled his erection from his underwear. She pulled him down to her mouth and continued to kiss him as he rubbed her clit, warming her up.

“Fuck, Cillian.”

“Yeah?” He whispered against her lips.

“God, I love you.” She gasped as he pushed his cock against her cunt and he smiled, his eyes closed.

“I love you too.” He exhaled and pushed inside her with a gentle thrust. She whimpered from the sudden intrusion and he gasped. He held her hips and fucked her deeper, still going slow and allowing her body to get used to him.

“This is so good, Jesus Christ. Are you ready?” He looked down at her and she nodded quickly. He licked his lips and started to fuck her faster, their bodies hitting eachother more aggressively as he sped up. She whimpered in pleasure and he exhaled in short bursts, already panting. He pulled out and crawled onto the bed below her. With one hand he pulled her farther up on the bed and the other he positioned her hips again. He thrusted inside again and grabbed the headboard, digging his fingers into the padded surface.

“Shit, Cillian I’m going to cum!” She whimpered, her thighs flexed against his pale hips. He shuttered and looked down at her.

“No, not yet. I’m not done with you yet, sweetheart.” He cooed and slowed down. He slipped his arms beneath her and laid his palms flat on the mattress. He held her hip up with one hand and moved in and out slowly, pushing as deep as she would allow him to go.

“Fuck…” she gasped and dug her nails into his back helplessly. She felt a pleasurable shock shoot from between her legs and she covered her mouth to muffle her loud moans.

“Oh you poor thing, you had to cum, didn’t you? You couldn't wait for me. So you’ll just have to cum twice, ok?” He panted and she nodded, tears filling her eyes and he snapped his hips back against her. He fucked her faster, panting from the pleasure. He grabbed the bottom of the headboard and pulled himself deeper inside her and she threw her head back in pleasure.

“Fucking hell, look at you,” He stroked her hair and continued fucking her fast, drawing out loud and pitiful moans from his throat. “You’re so good for me. God, I love you. You’re my girl.” He muttered deliriously, her walls closing around him and her thigh pulling him closer. The bed rocked beneath them.

“Harder, Cillian. Please!” She begged, a small spot of drool collecting at the corner of her mouth. He smiled and went deeper, hitting the base of her uterus with fast and rough thrusts. He got sloppier and she gasped against her hand. He kissed her and when she opened her mouth in a moan, he sucked her tongue. She licked his upper lip when he threw his head back in pleasure.

“I’m going to cum, fuck!” He panted and gave a final thrust into her. As he finished, she squirted and shuttered from the violent pleasure. He pulled out with a proud laugh and kissed her. He climbed off the bed and pulled her down to the edge of the bed by her ankle.

“What are you doing now?” She giggled.

“Cleaning up, darling.” He lowered himself to his knees and spread her legs with his sweaty palms. He looked at her for a second before licking her cunt, twirling his tongue against her clit. She was already so sensitive that she arched her back and bit down on her finger to stop herself from literally screaming. He used a flat tongue to clean the cum from her body and sucked softly on her clit. She tugged at his hair, gasping in exhausted pleasure. He held her hips in place as he dug her heels into the mattress, her feet flexed completely. He continued to lick when she orgasmed, cleaning her completely. Then with a proud smile, he put on his underwear and went to the bathroom. He came back with a damp washcloth and lifted one of her legs, wiping the soft inside of her thigh. He did the same to the other as she panted. She sat up and kissed him.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“I love you.” He responded and kissed her on her forehead before handing her dress back to her. She quickly put her dress back on and fixed her makeup. She applied a red lip gloss and brushed her hair away from her face. Cillian put his pants and shoes back on before pulling on his jacket and straightening the front. A knock sounded at the door and Cillian nodded at her as if nothing had happened.

“Ready?”

“Yeah.” She smiled and grabbed her purse. He took her hand and they walked down to the parking lot where the car was waiting to take them to the award ceremony. His hand stayed in her’s, their fingers linked. She rested against his chest and he kissed the top of her head. The venue was lit up and crowded with paparazzi and cars. This was the first time that she would be seen with Cillian at any of his events. He helped her out of the car and put a protective hand behind her back, leading her through the crowd to the entrance. Once inside, they were shown to their table and she shifted her foot closer to his, wanting to be as close as possible. People snapped their picture and introduced themselves to her, Cillian introduced her as his girlfriend and she blushed each time, prompting a playful pinch from Cillian.

She squeezed his thigh when the nominees were announced for his category.

“And the award for outstanding solo performance is…” The announcer looked down at the envelope and smiled at the audience, “Cillian Murphy, Misterman!” Everyone applauded and Cillian turned to her, kissing her in his moment of excitement and happiness. She kissed him back and laughed when he pulled away. Her lip gloss was smeared across his lips.

“You have lip gloss on your face now!” She whispered as he stood.

“Perfect.” He whispered in her ear and walked shyly to the stage, taking the award with shy nods, his eyes finding her’s in the audience, smudges of red across his mouth. She was his.

#cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #cillian x y/n #cillian fluff #cillian fanfic #fanfic

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moonshynecybin · 2 months ago

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Relatively sober/not very drunk Valentino having to take care of smashed Marc — is he annoyed, is he amused, is he suffering trying to refute the advances Marc is making on him, is he taking care of him or is he dumping him at his hotel/motorhome home and finito (options endless)

IT DEPENDS WHAT YEARRRRRR.... i think. 2013 post laguna seca (when they were partying TOGETHER. marc pulled one over on vale and vale brought him to a PARTY. INSANITY.) marc is 20 years old and not even allowed to drink legally in the united states so vale along with my friend cal crutchlow keep sneaking him drinks "secretly" as a flirtgame (no one would care lol) that vale doesnt even realize hes PLAYING until marc is smashed and HE is smashed (more than hes been in a LONG time at a postrace shindig), and his weird horny responsibility complex comes into play... he ducks out of the party to maneuver marc to his hotel room... marc drunkflushed all red in the FACE, just shook ass earnestly for like four hours, caught between cal and vale and like. hitting them both in the arm when he laughs like the LAMEST flirting of all time.... also he won. while doing a vale move. that vale then defended to the press. girl he is trying to get into vale's pants like it is the end of the WORLD and yknow what. i think it works ! i think vale is INTO it

and then. mid 2019. a little bit of a détente. still #tense and #nasty and #evil but edging just a bit more on friendly. they can laugh without it feeling like a knife between their ribs. and theyre at some stupid sponsor thing dont ask me whattttttt okay maybe the silverstone 70th suit celebration extravaganza. and vale is NOT hanging out with MAVERICK. and theyre both BORED. and vale thinks up some dumb quip that he knowssss marc would laugh at because marc laughs at everythingggggg, and hes just tipsy enough to nudge an elbow into the side of marc's tux and let it fly... let the warmth of marc's generous little look fill him up. and suddenly the champagne is flowing and theyre in a nefarious little drinking game about the habits of the other riders (i keep saying this but BOTH of their humor is like. mean sometimes. i mean they love to make FUN of people) and they catch jorge being awkward at dorna execs a BUNCH so suddenly theyre flat ass drunk. and having a good time. and feeling like its 2013.... and when they get released its like. well. marc inviting vale to hang out at his room. vale saying okay against his better judgement (hedonist for the win). one thing leading to the next. they fuck narstay. vale is GONEEEE in the morning. misano 2019. profit.

#2024 vale is like. marc trying his hardest to seem sober and vale being like AGAIN DAWG?#and fishing his phone out of his too tight jeans to send alex a text to pick his ass up. if alex does not respond hes putting him in a cab #and thinking about it forever. thank u #motogp #callie speaks #asks #rosquez

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ohsunnyboy · 1 year ago

Text

steal your night (part 1) | sung hanbin ˚₊‧⁺˖

you never knew you had a boyfriend until sung hanbin eats your tiramisu and steals your heart under the stars of monaco

SERIES: a night in monaco — one, two

TAGS: fake dating, strangers to lovers, business man!hanbin, gn!reader, flirty hanbin and you ehe, meet cute <3, summer vibes

A/N: sorry for the disappearance lmao take my hanbin pining as an apology, and as always, purely self indulgent

WORDS: ~1300

Trouble comes when dessert is served.

Everything considered, it’s horrible timing. Sun setting just so over the Mediterranean, hearty chatter firing all around in all sorts of languages and your wine being warm company on a supposedly lonely night. It makes a perfect set-up as your spoon hovers mid-air as you prepare to dig into some well-deserved tiramisu.

Until someone slides into the very empty seat across from you, slips a crisp black business card across the table to you – it reads 'Sung Hanbin' – and uttering the most insane thing yet: "Love, I'm so sorry for being late!"

What.

You barely get to say anything before he's swooping in for la bise. As you lean in, his expensive cologne lingers like smoke in the air. It's a narrow dodge of your lips, but he swerves and lands a quick kiss to your right cheek and then dares to go for a second on your left. Consider yourself stunned because all you do is watch him pull away and a grin at you with a gorgeous smile.

You want to sit and gape for a second, let yourself breathe, and now with a longer look, let him breathe.

This, Hanbin, has flushed cheeks and is twitchy with how he holds your hand – when did that happen?! – across the table. There's a light sheen of sweat on his skin and not due to the heat, more like he's either embarrassed or nervous about this. He breathes in short, sharp gasps as if he's been running and mouths something to you.

Please play along. His hand still holds yours, and he squeezes just so.

Hanbin turned his head to the right slightly. Stood at a table near the entrance was a woman with a flowy silver dress on and hair pulled into quite a severe bun. Her pointed heels tapping on the spot and her jittery eyes glance over at you two, but quickly look somewhere else when she catches your curious gaze.

“She’s been trying to get me to buy her a meal all day,” he sighs. “Thing is, I even saw her scoping me out yesterday at a bar last night. I was naïve enough to buy her a drink to start some conversation, but she’s taken it as personal permission to stalk me. She clearly hasn’t gotten the memo.” And he squeezes your hand again, this time to comfort himself.

“What about me? What if I turn out to be some crazy that’s out to steal your Amex and claim my fifth husband?”

“You? No way, you have a top shelf wine and a second plate of tiramisu in front of you already. You're doing perfectly fine without my money," Hanbin lists before his gaze turns considering. "Unless... you weren't lying about the husbands.”

You laugh into your wine and eye Hanbin over the rim. "You wouldn’t look too bad in a wedding tux, pretty boy, who knows?”

The long column of Hanbin’s neck is exposed thanks to the open collar of his shirt. Revealing the delicate sun, moon and star on his collar that only keeps you stuck in wonder for longer.

You can only imagine how smooth the skin feels – under your hands and lips – but maybe that’s the wine talking when he sits there fine and handsome against the candlelight. The sunset paints saturated hues against his skin, you can barely see the blush that peeks above his collar thanks to it.

If you friends were here, you know what they’d say about him: trouble, hot and wealthy trouble.

“Eyes up here, love.” Your eyes leap back up to Hanbin’s to only see amusement in them. Getting caught flushes your face with heat but his eyes are dark enough to forget yourself in.

You try to push on, clearing your throat and pulling yourself together. “So, the deal is we act like lovers the rest of the night?” The weight of the word lovers is a syrupy one, overtly sweet and something far from familiar for you but Hanbin only smiles at it.

“Of course, love. Shouldn’t be too hard with someone as sweet as you,” he grins however his eyes still linger on that woman in silver, clearly on edge.

You drum your fingers on the table, the rush of meeting each other melting quickly in the air. Awkward tension is bound to seep in soon and you'll be damned if it does! you're not losing this chance no matter how much trouble this man could be.

A stroke of brilliance brings you to push forward your untouched plate of tiramisu over to him, careful with the spoon balancing precariously on the plate. “What?” you smile at his confused face. “I wasn’t eating it anyway and you need a distraction.” But he just raises his brows like he doesn't believe it.

At his reluctance, you sigh and begin to flag down a waitress.

“Hey! Hey, don’t kick me out please—I’ll eat it!… even pay for it!—” Hanbin flusters even further as you push a finger against his soft lips to shut him up as the waitress arrives.

It’s a beat of silence.

“Two more tiramisus, please.” Hanbin’s laugh of disbelief trails the waitress as she leaves.

What you do find out is that it’s stupidly easy to talk to Hanbin. You tell him why you’re even here in Monaco: about your crazy best friends marrying after years of adventures, about being the responsible one in a group of misfits, about growing up and never quite finding the one unlike how they did. Loneliness is a familiar tale on your tongue, the wine tinging everything you say with bitter honesty you’ve never been able to let out with anyone else.

With Hanbin, you learn about his job as a business consultant: his annoying – but endearing! – juniors Yujin and Gyuvin, how him and Zhang Hao – his other colleague – are out here for strictly business. Until of course, he met you.

“What are your doing out here so alone, anyway?” he probed. He’s so much closer now, having moved his chair to be next to you instead of opposite you. “You’re too pretty to be single but I really hope you are.”

You shrug off the flirting for once and let yourself disappear back into the chair. “Everyone else I know are in relationships so they’re all away on dates across the city. I figured stealing myself away on a self-date would be better than sitting lonely in a hotel room all night.”

He hums, a low and melodic thing. You can feel the heat of him next to you, the weight of his presence and the cut of his cologne all over again. Though nothing prepares you when Hanbin takes your hand in his.

He raises it, gentle and kind, slow and despairing, and presses his lips to your ring finger.

"Well then, may I steal your night?" he asks like a dare. A whisper barely heard but shared between you two.

Eyes far too low and gaze far too heavy for a look between strangers. The implications are clearer than the night sky above. Hanbin's lips linger with a smirk, and you can feel everything in you screaming to look away before you melt into the floor but all you can do is stare.

Trouble. Is what your mind is screaming. It's what you really want after all this pining in silence. Someone to crash into your life and take you with them.

"You don't even know my name."

It comes out like an accusation. Trouble, trouble, trouble. It brings you here and leaves you dizzy, craving for more.

"Why would I need it, love. You'll be saying mine all night.”

The woman is long gone into the night so there's no need for this play-pretend. But trouble looks you in the eyes and you kiss him with a heart that yearns for more.

ahjbsdkh thanks so much for reading <33 i had a lot of fun writing this so a like and reblog would be nice if you enjoyed :] ⭒ masterlist

#or hanbin is irresistible #zerobase1 #sung hanbin #sung hanbin x reader #zb1 #zb1 x reader #kpop #kpop fanfic #fake dating #zb1 imagines #sung hanbin fluff #zb1 drabbles #fanfiction #kpop x reader #sung hanbin fic #zerobase1 fics #zerobaseone #sunny forecast: writing nights

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cressthebest · 7 months ago

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PLZ JEGULILY HCS!! <33

AHHHHHHHHHHHH the post was up for like ten minutes before i got this. i am going so feral over getting to talk about them!!

this post is split in two sections:

- how they got together

- headcanons

um let’s start with how i think they got together! it’s gonna be a bit of an unpopular opinion i think. this parts gonna be kinda long, but it’s ✨complex✨ y’all

if you don’t wanna read that, skip to the next words in pink!

we all know that james has ALWAYS loved lily evans, and will gladly shout it to the rooftops. he very much loves her, and by the time she’s starting to reciprocate the feeling, james is still in love, but giving up hope. he begins to crush on regulus, is very conflicted cause he still loves lily, but gets with regulus anyways. regulus is aware that james still likes lily, but they never discuss it. (honestly, these people did not communicate and it was a bit of an issue)

and while james and regulus begin dating, lily starts to become jealous. cause she realizes that she really really missed james. and also thinks that james’ boyfreind is cute too 👀

and honestly, lily attributes wanting to kiss regulus to the fact that she thinks she wants to make james jealous. but she also wants to kiss james. and honestly, why does she want to hold both of their hands? why does she want a date with both of them??

(also, let women have complex character traits this 2024! lily can be heavily jealous! she’s not perfect! please remember that!)

regulus admits to james that he’s gained a bit of a crush on lily, and notices that james still has his. so they’re both two idiots pining over this beautiful lady that they think doesn’t want them.

regulus and james would often hang in the astronomy tower, but lots of times regulus would go by himself. lily joins one day and voila! they’re talking! and they get along! this continues! they have hang outs with all three of them up there, along with just lily and regulus.

regulus eventually realizes that their crush is reciprocated. he gives lily a few courting presents (and remus with the help of sirius kindly informs her what’s going on) and she kisses regulus one night. they get so high on weed that night after their kiss.

after the kiss with reg, lily asks james first! and james is not used to being chased! he’s the chaser! he stumbles and stutters and quite honestly forgets to say yes.

eventually all three are together. it was a mess. this all occurred in 5th year for reg, 6th year for jily

after that convoluted mess, i offer short headcanons:

• regulus and lily smoke weed together. james is allergic, so he never gets to join :/

• james plans the proposal for two years- like, he starts dating them, and he’s already planning who will be his best man (remus) and what color his tux is (dark grey) and his dream venue

• actually on that topic- reg would wear light/mid grey as his wedding tux colors. his best man is sirius. james and reg fought over who would get sirius, and regulus won!

• lily wears a very bohemian looking dress. her maid of honor is mary, but she always wished it was petunia

• nsfw warning:

——————————

• james and regulus first had sex in the astronomy tower. about five months after being together.

• and then reg and lily actually fucked two weeks after getting together, also in the astro tower.

• james and lily didn’t have sex together for almost a year after getting together. james is demisexual. he honestly isn’t ready yet. they made out quite a bit tho- (but they eventually did it in the girls dorm.) (stairs let him up, yada yada i have headcanons about that too)

• they have their first threesome in james’ bed at home.

——————————

• james and lily cook together a lot! lily is not good at it. but she likes it :/ and james learned cause of his mum! he’s fantastic at it!

• lily smokes. quite a bit actually. james hates the smell and knows it’s bad for you. regulus doesn’t care for it; he just likes weed.

• all three of them are bi!!

• james is demisexual like mentioned above

• lily is aro-spec (and uses she/they)

• harry called lily “mum”, james “papa”, and regulus “dad”

• and! unpopular opinion! when harry reached hogwarts age, he’d be sorted into slytherin. he hears all the nasty things said about slytherins, and his parents all want him to be gryffindor (including reg)! but the sorting hat says he’d do well in slytherin, and he goes for it! cause he looks up to his dad and wants to avenge his slytherin honor and wants to make his dad proud to have been in slytherin!

#marauders #regulus black #james potter #jegulus #lily evans #jegulily #jily #regulily #bisexual james potter #demisexual actually #bisexual lily evans #bisexual regulus black #headcanons #marauders headcanon #she/they lily evans

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narcissarina · 9 months ago

Text

Darkened Desires

Prologue and Chapter 1: The sun || Chapter 2: The moon || Chapter 3: The moon

Pairings: Mafia!Scaramouche × Barista!Reader

Word count: 1,206

Tw: praise kink, degradation, kidnapping, tourture, dub/non-con, forced breeding, dismembering, gore, deaths, age-gap, corruption, use of force, trauma, use of drugs, stalking, mentions of human trafficking on the near chapters, slowburn.

Warning: This fanfiction may contain kidnapping, torture, dub/non-con, forced breeding, dismembering, age-gap, corruption, vigilante Scaramouche, use of force, trauma, use of drugs, stalking, and more. This fiction will continue grow darker as chapters goes by.

Your mental health matters.

CHAPTER 4:

THE SUN

My mind plays back to the other day, the man with purple hair approaches me and tip me a 100$ with me giving a minimal effort, I didn’t even do anything and what I did isn’t something special, right?

Every now and then I would feel my stomach dropping, like my guts is telling me something but I couldn’t pin point that assumption, is he a dangerous person? I thought to myself, my head full of question and my mind swirling to one point to another.

It makes my head hurt and I want to bang my head against a hard table or wall.

“The fuck are you doing?” I flinched as I got startled from Estrella’s sudden presence—snatching my thoughts away and give my full attention to her, I play out a smile and clasp my hand together, “nothing.” I assured, but she knows that there’s more to it when I’m getting a little twitchy all of a sudden.

“Don’t lie, I know there is something bothering you.” Her soft voice hints deep concern, I sigh and wrap my arm in my head, taking a deep groan and sigh.

I couldn’t escape her, nor could I lie to her. She’s my friend and I love her with all my life. I bit my lips in a thin line and deeply inhale and exhale, “remember those guys in the black expensive tux the other day?”

She nodded, “uh-huh, what about them?”

“They just give me this icky feeling, I don’t know.” I wave my hand and pinch my own cheek, face on the table as I lightly tap my forehead against the harden wood of the table. I wish I could bang my head here as hard and loud as possible, but that would be making me a fool out of myself.

“What kind of feeling?”

“Like, a feeling where you felt like you put yourself in danger type a feeling.”

Estrella nodded, legs crossed and her drink in hand—taking a sip and look at me. Before she could speak, another voice was heard beside us, “Hi!” it was cheerful and full of life, I turn my head and see another one of my friends. I turn up and smiled, standing from my seat and gave her a big warm hug.

“Oh my god, hi to you too!” I greeted her, my hands behind her back as we embrace on a tender hug, “it’s been a while.” She said and sat beside Estrella, “your arrival is the most unexpected too, Vhinella Azmy.”

Vhinella Azmy.

I haven’t heard of her for a long time, it brought a smile to my face when I knew that she’s finally free of her schedule, “well, you know me.” Vhinella spoke in a teasing tone, “schedules been packing and work is a little.” She motion a circle mid-air and made an ick expression, telling how she feels about her work and schedule.

“I heard you guys talking about something, so..” Vhinella starts, legs crossed and shift in her seat at her right, “what happened?” she finally asked, I groan and slam my head yet again on the hard wooden table, causing my friends drink jump a little.

Estrella took a sip and sigh, filling Vhinella in on what happened on the other day and how I felt like someone is watching me, even in my own home. Vhinella had a straight serious face as she listen and process all what Estrella told her.

Silence was loud as Estrella filled her up with the story, their attention and gaze shifted to me. I don’t even want to look at them, I’m at my lowest. If they think they see me, no they don’t. I’m invisible.

Vhinella offered us a ride and go on shopping with her, she says that it’s “her treat” and that she’ll be spoiling us today, she’s a great friend really. Trying to lift up my spirit and gossiping with Estrella, trying to impress me on who has the most juiciest tea to spill.

We went to arcades, shopping malls, pick clothes and buy some little plushies, and before we knew it, it was already 7:45 pm. Estrella excused herself first, grab a cab and went home, Vhinella offered me a ride on my way home but I want to decline, instead—she’ll drop me off somewhere so that I could get some nightly walk.

I got off the car and goes to her car window, she rolled her window down and smiled at me—reaching out to pinch my cheek and gave it a little slap, “be careful, ok?” she hums, her voice deep with concern. I smiled and boop her nose, feeling a little playful.

“I will, don’t worry.” I assured her as she drove away, I watch her car fade away far, far away. My surroundings seem a little empty, but it was common in this neighborhood since it’s now nighttime, fewer cars and people.

This is part is what I love most here, nighttime.

The night is peaceful here, gives me a peace of mind. It oddly relaxes me even though I know that I might get in danger, but I didn’t care. I just want one last walk before going home. Where I live in a butt-fuck nowhere surrounded by trees.

While I was busy humming to myself, I come across an alleyway, it was dark and eerie. I see two silhouettes, one is on the ground and one is standing before that person. Light’s flicker and I saw a good glimpse of two people, to see what they look like. I breath hitches and hit in the corner.

The man from the other day, that was him—standing before a blooded and unmoved man before him,

God damn I knew he screams danger.

Shit, I don’t know what to do. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I should’ve taken Vhinella up to her offer, I’m screwed and fucked.

His head snapped, he felt my presence as I quickly and quietly slam my back against the wall. I stood still for a good few seconds before looking back again, he isn’t there… and so is the dead body.

I am fucked.

A hand reached out behind me, covering my mouth.

I struggled, he pressed me against the cold wall, his front pressing my back, I struggle from his grasp. I wanna scream, cry and fight but no avail. I’m not built like that, I beg him inside my mind—thousand thoughts swirl in my head at the same time. Tears dropping from my cheeks, but he spoke.

“Shh… Atta girl,” his lips almost touching my ear, “should’ve kept walking, tsk.” He said, then I felt him inject something on the crook of my neck while telling degrading praises in my ear.

“be good.”

“stop resisting, or I’ll do worst.”

“Pretty girl, there, there.”

Last words I heard from him as my mind went blank, my head felt heavy and fuzzy and my eyes closing. I tried fighting it off but the urge was too strong to fight off.

“You knew that it should not have come to this.” He said, grinning before carrying me in his arm before fully closing my eyes shut.

I blacked out.

Link:

Chapter 5: THE SUN

#genshin impact #scara x reader #scaramouche smut #scaramouche fanfic #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #genshin scara #genshin smut #Darkened Desires Series #Mafia!Scaramouche #Mafia!Scara #dark romance #Sorry for posting this late!!#Tysm for enjoying this series😭😭🙏

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quitealotofsodapop · 7 months ago

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DBK and PIF were best man and maid of honor. Zu Baijie was ringbearer and Ao Lie flower dragon. Guanyin walked Wukong down the Aisle (basing this on American weddings I imagine it's gonna be very different for a Chinese wedding)

Referencing.

Awww

For some reason I'm imagining DBK in a tux thats close to ripping to shreds, crying like a baby and blowing his nose into a hanky at how beautiful the ceremony is. PIF is juat completely adoring of her hopeless romantic hubby.

And if Red Son has already been born, you know that baby bull is there in a little outfit, frowning in every woodblock painting/photo. Reminding me of a video of a flower girl who dumps her basket mid-way up the aisle so she could go sit down.

I feel like the traditional Chinese-style wedding would be awkward cus that involves both sets of parents being there + a lot of imperial details. So they go for a looser version of the typical traditions since they dont make much sense to monkeys anyway. I like the idea of Guanyin being the one to "give away" Wukong at the altar. Macaque in turn had the Nine Tailed Vixen give him away (with Chang'e astral projecting to be there).

Mac and Wukong return home while planning the wedding to see their nest with new red sheets, covered in fruit and nuts, and wonder if they're being pranked. Thats an actual tradition (An Chuang) used as a fertility charm by the families of the couple. Stalwarts read a marriage guide and didn't question it before tosing fruit around their rulers' bedroom.

However one tradition involves lots of hair grooming the night before the wedding, so monkey demons def like that one. Even if they ignore the finer details.

Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing have a mini-adventure trying to find what happened to the missing marriage tail bands the night before the wedding. Thankfully it turned out little Jin and Yin had taken them thinking that the sun-gold/moon-silver bands suited them. Lots of bribery (and threat of telling their mother) was involved to get the bands back.

Very few celestials are invited, mainly the ones who were real Gs during the Journey (like Maori) or old friends that they couldn't dream of *not* having there (Nezha). A few bodhisattvas and Arhats that helped along the way too.

The Jade Emperor was invited but he just sent a really nice wedding gift instead. Secretly he's kinda scared of the demigod power-couple and their super-powerful baby.

#post jttw stone egged au #jttw stone egged au #shadowpeach #lmk aus #sun wukong #six eared macaque #liu er mihou #lmk #lego monkie kid #jttw aus

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dearabby1990 · 4 months ago

Text

Chapter 39: Girls/Guys night out

Upon arriving back in Hawkins you both made sure to call ahead & make plans with your friends. You’ll be meeting Robin Nancy & your cousin Rachel at the wheelers to go out to brunch & pan out last minute wedding details & then have to meet back up at the house to go pick up Karen & Joyce to go finally pick out your dress & the night is for fun you ladies are going to a club out in Illinois & spending two nights there to pick out your flowers & have them delivered back home brings the only florist in Hawkins didn’t have a lily in sight. Eddie has band practice this afternoon & is going for a night out with the boys to have a few beers and play some pool. You made sure to let him know to take the boys to get fitted for tuxes & what color ties and vests they need to match their bridesmaid partner. Steve being the good friend he is already has his tux at home & hanging in the closet. He’s gonna meet the boys at the hideout later but asked to tag along for dress shopping which you thought was odd at first but also have to keep in mind although he’s a male he’s so the mother hen of the group plus you’re sure Robin talked him into coming for extra support beings your mother passed away & you need all the support you can get. “Bing” the chime of the store bell as the last of your group makes its way inside the bridal boutique as your fingers skim the many fabrics of the dresses hanging all over the place. Karen,Joyce & Steve look more excited then you do but Robin looks like her head is gonna explode she’s so red in the face so you decided to pull her aside before you all get the day started. “Hey Robs you okay you look flushed I thought I’m supposed to be the nervous wreck hahah” you squeeze her shoulder for support she takes a deep breath before turning to you “dresses jame you know I hate looking frilly this place makes me feel like I’m already suffocating & I didn’t even try a damn thing on yet &…” you stop her mid ramble “robs nobody said you had to wear a dress as a matter of fact I called ahead & spoke with them & they have a pantsuit in the same color as the dresses I’m having pulled for today so please breathe it’s gonna be fine & you know I got my best friend” you kiss her cheeks & pull her along to the dressing area where all of the workers have pulled a bunch of things for you & your bridal party you turn you your group “okay bridesmaids first then finding Joyce & Karen something because you’re both being given mother roles for us both beings we both lost ours if that’s okay with you ladies?..” they both get up hugging you squealing in excitement & gladly except your offer “okay so most of these bridesmaids gowns are in lavender & we can find silver belts or something to add maybe robs there’s these for you to the black slacks with the lavender silk button up and tie Rachel Nancy I have these gowns for you two to try out & moms they’re on the way with stuff for you guys in the color scheme now excuse me while I go have a conversation with the owner & I’ll be back to see how everything looks” they all nod & you’re off to discuss colors and details for your dress wanting to keep your ideas a surprise for everyone. You head back to the group as robin steps out of the dressing area in her pantsuit “oh my robs! That’s perfect I love it!!” She beams looking more herself “i really like the way these pants fit & this shirt is so comfortable I thought silk would give me the willies but I actually really like it you did awesome” next Nancy & Rachel head out in two different gowns so you could decide which on you liked more Rachel in a dark purple tea dress with puffy sleeves & Nancy in a lavender gown with sheer sleeves & floral patterns you look at Joyce & Karen for a moment before looking back at the girls “the one Nancy is wearing just seems so perfect for everything I think I’m gonna have to go with that one it matches robs pantsuit too I really love it” the workers start measuring the ladies as you go off to try your dresses next.

Trying on different gowns alone you just weren’t feeling that spark trying them on & you were about to give up completely & call it a day until the owner knocks on your dressing room door you open up & let her inside & she has two more dresses in her arms “now these I just pulled from the back this color doesn’t sell much but I have a feeling one of these would find a home with you” you can see the colors & fabrics draped over her arm & you bubble with excitement as they’re absolutely perfect & what you’ve been looking for all this time she helps you into the first one “hmmpf yeah I feel like a big puff ball in this one & it’s kind of itchy so let’s try that last one i really like the skirt on that one” she helps you out of the first one & into the second & you feel as if electric currents were coursing through your veins & give her a smile & a nod “I’m gonna show them this one this just feels like it’s the one I know it” she escorts you to your group they’re all fussing over god knows what because they’re all talking at once not noticing you approach them until Robin catches you out of the corner of her eye “well hot damn if that doesn’t scream mrs Munson I don’t know what will” & with that they all turn to see you & gush over how beautiful they think you look. Wrapping up measurements & payments Steve comes up & gives you the biggest hug on the planet “you looked absolutely amazing he’s gonna love it I just know it I’m so happy for you jame & by the way thanks for helping with.. you know with Rachel & stuff.. we’ve really been getting along great & im hoping I can convince her to stay” this excited you knowing both Steve & your cousin have had their fair share of heartbreak “im really happy for you guys too & she’s great Steve don’t hurt her or I’ll cut your damn balls off got it” you wink he knows you wouldn’t hurt him nor would he hurt Rachel. You all exit the boutique & head for your cars & off to your homes to get ready for tonight. Instead of bachelorette & bachelor parties you both agreed on girls & guys night out. You ladies are heading to a club just outside of town & the guys are going to have beers & play pool at the hideout. You got your best jeans on a guns & roses shirt cut into a crop top your knee high boots & Eddie’s belt. The girls came over Nancy promised to do yours & robins hair & you’re all off to hop in Paula & decided tonight that Nancy be driving beings you & Robin tend to get completely wasted & act like 2 middle school children on the way home. Pulling up to the club you all get your id’s ready pass the bouncer & head straight for the bar “three bay breezes & 3 shots of tequila!” You all take a shot & take your drinks to find a table when you spot in the back near the jukebox perfect all three of you slide in & you pop a few dimes into the slot skimming through songs deciding on playing “let the music” play by Shannon as you ladies finish up your drinks to head over & dance with each other having the time of your lives. Different colored lights lighting up the dimly lit area. Thinking of all you went through to get to this very moment in life & what amazing things still await for the future ahead. Knowing Eddie’s out having just as much of a good time as you with the people who matter the most. There’s not a thing in this world that could get you to change your mind or trade in what you have now. These are your people, your family in Hawkins it may not be as large as the busyness of the inner cities around the globe but as small as this town is it’s big enough to be your entire world & then some. At the hideout all the guys have just finished up multiple rounds of pool & ordered more drinks for the table & Steve comes back with a tray of shots “alright Munson I sure as shit didn’t think you’d be the first of us to get married but here we are & I couldn’t be happier for the both of you take care of our little sister or me & gareth will beat your ass! Haha anyways to brothers to family to the future Mr & Mrs Munson” “here here” they all cheers & take their shot.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #eddie munson #stranger things fanfic #robin buckley #gareth emerson x reader #steve harrington x y/n

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positivelybeastly · 3 months ago

Note

Ok, but what do you think was going through Hank's head between Trish dumping him and Cassandra Nova screwing him over? How did he spend those hours?

Also, this is your safe space to roast Trish Trilby into the freaking sun. (Please please please).

Also, (sorry if this is too much) Why do you think Cassandra screwed with Hank so much?

It was his first time putting on this new tux - all of his old ones no longer fit, naturally - and if he was frightfully honest, it had been rather a pain, doing it with his new digits; waistcoat buttons, dress shirt, bowtie, all just so remarkably fiddly. He had spent his whole life so uniquely talented with his hands that even a slight reduction in dexterity would have thrown him, but this . . .

But it would be worth it, he told himself, as he primped and preened a little bit in the mirror. It was, in its way, a self-confidence boost all on its own, to be able to dress himself so finely without tearing a hole in the silk or nicking himself with his own claws.

As he looked into the mirror, he even found it within himself to smile, and to like that smile, no less - he felt as though he could feel his old face coming through, which was a bizarre concept, but one which was something of an old friend to him by now. It usually came before acceptance, which was all to the good, surely? He had weathered this before, and he would do again.

"There is no exquisite beauty . . . without some strangeness in the proportion.” No doubt Poe would have had a nervous fit, to see a creature such as the Beast quoting him from memory, but then, what hadn't set that poor man into a nervous fit? Not that . . . Hank couldn't relate, of course, but . . . he cleared his throat, determined to be positive.

This was a big night, his first night out since he'd changed, and he was determined that it was going to be a big night.

Moving over to the answering machine, Hank carefully depressed the button, and erupted into a smile as he caught sight of himself in the mirror. In his head, he felt as though he could hear his old self clapping him on the back and telling him, you got this, boychik!

"Hi, Hank . . ."

A cocky grin on his face now, Hank pulled back a bit, adopting an almost sultry pose as he looked in the mirror, adjusting his bowtie. "Well hello, Trish." He couldn't help himself.

"RROOowr!" He did look good, didn't he?

"Are you ready for a balloon ride across upstate New York with champagne and . . ." His ears flicked. Trish didn't sound . . .

"I'm sorry I'm being such a coward about this, Hank, but I'm calling from Washington, and . . . it's not you, it's me."

Hank stopped mid hair primp.

"You're still the same lovely Hank inside, even since you changed so much, but . . . I know you can't help your eyes, but you look at me like I'm prey sometimes and . . ."

His arm fell down by his side.

"And the Enquirer ran a story about us . . . the word 'bestiality' was used three times . . ."

He felt - he felt -

"I couldn't do anything to hurt you, dear, lovely Hank. But this could ruin my career as a broadcaster."

He felt like he was going to be sick.

"Oh god, I didn't mean it like that."

How did you mean it, Trish.

"Oh, Hank . . . I'm making such a mess of this."

Are you.

"I'm so sorry."

Are you truly?

The answering machine beeped mockingly, asking him if he wanted to delete the message, replay it, or save it.

With an uncanny accuracy that would have made Gambit proud, Hank whipped the hand mirror through the air with enough force that it smashed the answering machine into plastic smithereens, the moulded shell of it collapsing to the floor in amongst the broken glass.

No.

No, that wasn't enough.

His body possessed by the same kind of predatory speed that filled prey animals with terror, he stalked over to the corpse of the machine and began to stomp, over, and over, and over again. Transistors, transducers, receivers, numeric keys, wire, it all ended up stomped into a twisted mess of shit, because that's all all of this was, it was shit, it was bullshit, it was all bullshit -

Bringing his paws up to the collar of his tuxedo, worn just this once, freshly tailored, costing a good few thousand dollars, from a tailor that Janet van Dyne had recommended to him personally, Hank tore it all to shreds in one fell rip.

It all came away in gossamer strings, light and thready and soft, and as it peeled away, Hank thought for a moment that he might quite like to reach up just a few inches higher, dig his claws into his skull, and do the exact same thing with his skin, and his fur, until the meat suit went the way of the monkey suit and he was himself again. Until the him, the real him, not this royal blue mockery, was what people saw again.

But it wasn't that easy, now, was it?

The pants were next. Then the boots, the first of which he kicked off his feet and sent flying into a monitor that cost more than the suit, cracking it. He didn't care. Off came the other one. Another $10,000, down the drain. Who cared.

Newly naked, and not even remotely calm, Hank bent over and pressed his head into the cold, sterile metal of the lab that Charles had invested millions into, and screamed, an inarticulate sound of pain and fury and humiliation and shame. His brain felt as though it were throbbing. He could feel it pulsing against the bounds of his skull, just wishing it could escape the confines of this mortal shell, and Hank could only whimper and whisper back, me, too.

He rocked back, falling on his haunches, and stared off into nothingness. He sat there, for what must have been half an hour, refusing to cry, refusing to give her the satisfaction, refusing to be beaten, taking all of what he was feeling into his paws and slowly strangling it and packing the chopped up little corpses into littler coffins in his mind, hammering down the lids until all that remained were neat little boxes that he could compartmentalise and file away with the rest of it.

And when he was done, he breathed in deep, stood up, and walked away from the wreckage of his relationship, naked and without any more pretensions as to his exquisite beauty.

The first step was, of course, to find new clothes. The most immediate source was the field gear room, and he supposed it was as apropos as anything else. Any aspirations of a social life, he could now safely consign to the dust bin along with his aspirations of a human relationship, so why not don the garments of the X-Man he was consigned to be and only be? It was more honest that way.

He smoothed down the sides of the buttery smooth, new leather jacket, supposing he was glad that the kevlar-unstable molecule weave that lay beneath its surface meant it wouldn't rip like the tuxedo would.

Supposing so. As an identity, it would do.

The second step was to clean up after himself. Sweep away the glass and the plastic, throw out the broken monitors, order new ones, bill it to the Professor's account. If he questioned it, he could either accept Hank's mumble that there had been an experiment that went awry, or he could tickle at Hank's brain and then recoil because that entire area of Hank's mind probably felt like acid to the touch.

Either way, replacements were on their way.

The third step . . . and Hank was, for the moment, glad that the sub-basement was, in essence, his stomping ground and no-one else's, because that meant there was no-one to stop him . . . was to find the Enquirer story that Trish had mentioned.

He could practically hear Jean in his brain, telling him not to do this; hell, he could hear Scott and Logan in his brain telling him not to do this, and that was how he knew he really was going around the twist, because those two existed in his mind now and they were in agreement.

But he couldn't help it. He had to know.

Sitting down at his chair, he leaned back, his muzzle perched on his paw. His desktop stared at him, and he felt a pang as his wallpaper rotated through picture after picture of old teams, old faces - his, old face.

He hadn't had the heart to change it yet.

The cheerful placidity of his handsome face stared out at him from the cowl of an old brown and yellow X-Factor uniform, and even as he matched the other Hank's gaze, the piercing yellow of his newly lambent eyes shone back at him through the reflective glare of the monitor, replacing the soft blue he remembered.

He shrunk away from it, and instead slid on his digital manipulators, the mechanical prostheses that allowed him to type without fingers. He stretched them, feeling the wire and metal and electrical impulse sensors in the tips flex around his digits, and began to type.

'Enquirer Trish Tilby.' 410,000 results, most of them articles citing her as a source, dating back to the outbreak of strange, seemingly mystical possessions of every day objects and the emergence of X-Factor. Not specific enough. His fingers twitched.

'Enquirer Trish Tilby Hank McCoy.' 290,000 results, the first hundred, at least, of which were simply coverage of their relationship over the years. There, again, was his old face, staring out at him, as if mocking him, entreating him to do what he always did and pursue knowledge, instead of listening to the little voice in his head telling him he was only making things worse. His fingers twitched again.

'Enquirer Trish Tilby Hank McCoy . . .'

He swallowed.

'Enquirer Trish Tilby Hank McCoy bestiality.'

And there it was.

He read it, of course. To not read it would be like leaving an itch on the surface of his brain unscratched for the rest of his life, he simply had to know, and it, was . . . exactly as tawdry and sad and cruel and garish and dehumanising as he thought it would be.

Dehumanising.

Now, wasn't there a word? How. Specific. De-human-ising.

'We do believe all planets have a sovereign claim to inalienable human rights

'Inalien... If only you could hear yourselves? 'Human rights.' Why, the very name is racist.'

The sound of Chekov and Azetbur buzzing in his brain made him feel suddenly, violently angry, and he grabbed his keyboard and mouse and flung it to the side like a child, breathing heavily as he heard them clatter and smash, kicking at his desk and feeling it bend under his foot before he brought up his legs and hugged them.

He wanted to get off the ride. He wanted to get off.

He wanted to get off the ride. He wanted off.

He wanted to get off the ride, he wanted off, he wanted off, he wanted off -

A ragged, injured breath escaped him, and he slowly stood back up, his movements stiff and jagged as he slowly cleaned up the new mess he had made. Hank very gingerly picked up the keys that had gone everywhere, dropping them into the garbage like broken teeth, feeling so very much like he wanted to cry, but refusing to give her the satisfaction. He refused. He refused.

. . . He needed to do something constructive. He needed to. He desperately needed to think about something that wasn't this.

Shambling as if drunk, his body cycling through modes of movement as if trying to work its way back to something that felt vaguely human, vaguely normal, Hank moved back towards his anatomical computer console and called up the last file he'd decided to load into it.

'CASSANDRA NOVA ENTITY. THREAT LEVEL: EXTREMELY HIGH. CURRENT STATUS: DECEASED.'

Large, blue paws settled on the terminal and he leaned forward. Something else, now, was gnawing on the edge of his brain like a worm, and this . . . felt . . . important. What was he missing? What hadn't he done? It had been a little spooky, he'd been a little - frazzled, after Nova had gone stomping through the Institute the way she had done, but he'd done all of the routine checks, hadn't he?

Yes. Yes, he had. Basic autonomic processes, breakdown of homeostatic baselines, blood sample, tissue sample, radiological readings, and all of it had come up appropriately strange . . . no known matches in the Avenger database, nor S.H.I.E.L.D's, nor even the Shi'ar. She was strange. Genuinely strange, the kind of life that they'd never seen before - and its first instinct had been to try and kill them. Why?

Why does anyone try to kill anything?

. . . Because it's threatened? But what could possibly threaten Nova? Telepathy, adamantium, gravity, gunpowder, it had all been so much waste. Nothing had phased her, really. What could phase a being of such awe-inspiring power? Not a physical threat, surely . . .

But what about a mental one? Or. A genetic one? What was it he'd said again? She was beyond the biological Twilight Zone. She was, in a word, uncanny, unknowable. What was it he'd said again? He'd been in the middle of saying something. Not just now, back then.

Hank took off his glasses and rubbed at the bridge of his muzzle, dialling back through his memories, trying to fumble at the moments just before Cassandra Nova had started to touch at his mind and fry his brain. Before can feel too funny bad smell in my eyes . . . what had they said? They had said something.

'This could become a war for the domination of the bio-sphere.'

'They'll be gone, replaced by us. Or something even stranger.'

'How come she looks like you, Chuck?'

Hank's eyes flew open, Logan's voice ringing in his ears.

'How come she looks like you, Chuck?'

"No . . ." And yet, even as he denied it, Hank was cross-referencing the tissue sample he'd taken - and the DNA contained within - with Cerebra's genetic library files. He didn't need it to tell him what it did, but it was trivial, how quickly it returned a result. In an instant. Ping. Done.

'Exact match: Charles Francis Xavier.'

He . . .

He and the esteemed Headmaster needed to have a talk. Now.

So, there is an actual canonical reason why Cassandra Nova fucked Hank over so badly, and it kinda depresses me because it is just so very typical - it's because fucking him over was useful to her.

What better way to make a genius work in your favour? Hurt him. Hurt him so badly that all he can think about is getting back at you by doing something clever, something that will astonish and amaze and redeem his moment of weakness, of humiliation, of abject failure.

Hurt him because that's easy and it's fun and his insecurities make him predictable in how he'll lash out and try to compensate. Hurt him so that he uses his genius for you, and the only thing that stops him from acting in your favour is someone who can see through his neuroses spotting what's going on.

Someone who is paying active attention to Hank's mental health, like Jean Grey.

It's also partly the reason why Hank ended up being the host for Sublime in Here Comes Tomorrow. It wasn't just a case of convenience.

Hank is the perfect Sublime host. Why?

Partly because Hank is constantly evolving. He is mutation in action. He is the biological imperative to adapt and survive.

'Primordial Earth,' huh?

The only other person who would come close is someone like Darwin. And even then, I suspect Darwin wouldn't be as compatible as Hank. Why?

Because Hank is also two other two things that make him the perfect host. A genius - and mentally ill. He is vulnerable. He is susceptible to manipulation. When isolated, he can become desperate. He panics. He becomes emotionally unstable. Irrational. In need of support.

And that's exactly what Sublime wants. That's exactly what Cassandra Nova wants. That's what they find useful.

Hank is soft, and tender, and useful. Unfortunately for him.

#Anonymous #outofmuffins #blood tw

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