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#i personally know what it feels like to sit and wait
shoyudon · 2 days
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𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐈 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 .ᐟ
them forgetting a date night.
starring. gojo, sukuna, toji x fem! reader
heads up. cursing, no fluff, sukuna can use a phone (bcs u taught him lol /j), sukuna calling u "woman"
note. haiii, how are you guys doing? make sure to take care of yourself!! i'm feeling a bit angsty today, so i'm gonna write a bit of angst. i miss gojo, like so much u guys :( i might make a part two for this btw hehe
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──────〃★ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
the one thing you hated more than people being late was people who don't keep their promises — your boyfriend wasn't an exception to it. gojo's a busy man, you get it. for months you haven't been able to see him because he was so caught up in the jujutsu world; he saves people dan and night from lingering curses that it broke you a bit.
the jujutsu world treats him like a weapon; and you never liked it. despite your constant battering on him, trying to get him to quit and just settled in for a quiet life, he tells you that he can't. that people needed him, and you felt selfish.
but isn't it fine to be selfish sometimes?
clutching onto your phone, you'd tried dialing gojo's number at least six times before he answers. his voice groggy and slow, as if he had just woken up from a deep sleep, "huh . . . hello?"
you wanted to yell at him, especially because he was the one who has been reminding you about this particular date night — and he was the one to forget about it, "good sleep?" you ended up asking him, voice hard.
"y/n . . . why did you—"
"why did i call? oh, i don't know. maybe because my boyfriend stood me up for an hour and a half. i look like an idiot sitting here, satoru," you mutter out in embarrassment, avoiding the lingering gazes from both waiters and waitresses around you.
for the past hour, you've lost count of how many times you'd ask them to refill your glass of tea — embarrassing. then telling them you were waiting for someone when they tried to ask you if you were going to order anything since there were people waiting for a table, just for the said person not showing up.
"what time is— oh, fuck. baby, i'm so sorry, i fell asleep when i was work—"
before he could finish his words, you finished it for him, "working. i get it, you're always working. clearly, you don't have time for anything else, right?" you ask him, signaling the waiter nearby for the bill.
"baby, i know. i'm so sorry, i'm on my way, okay? please," he whispers. you could hear a few shuffling on the background; along with a few curses he muttered under his breath as he stumble over his feet, mind hazy from all the sudden movements he was doing despite just waking up.
"no need. i'm leaving the place," you mutter, walking out of the restaurant — heels clacking on the pavement, "and 'm leaving you, because clearly you're not ready for a relationship, so bye."
gojo yells out, "what? no, baby. i swear — i'll make it up to you, please. don't leave me . . ." he rambled on the same words over and over again, "where are you? i'm picking you up. please, can we talk about this? i'm sorry, i know i should've—"
"bye, satoru," and with that you ended the call.
──────〃★ 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍
you fiddled the hem of your dress as you sat inside the almost closed restaurant, the last speck of hope you had on your boyfriend —sukuna— dissipating into hopelessness. standing up you walked over to the cashier, taking out your card to pay for the one glass of shrimp cocktail and one glass of white wine.
the cashier shot you a sympathetic look, and you didn't dare to look her into her eyes. face hard from embarrassment and shame, "thank you for coming, come again next time, ma'am . . ." she bids you goodbye as she returns your card.
walking out of the restaurant that now had the 'closed' sign flipped made your stomach churn in mixed feelings: anger, embarrassment, shame, sadness, everything all at once.
sinking your nails onto the palm of your hand, you muttered out strings of curses. you knew being in a relationship with someone who had no understanding to the concept of love was a hard thing — but honestly, you thought you got a hang of it. all this time you had been nothing but patient with sukuna, but maybe even that wasn't enough for him.
three hours. you sat alone inside the restaurant you booked for the both of you for three hours — each hour depleting your hope even more. and sukuna just managed to fuck it up even after he said he'd try. well, you should've underlined the keyword there: he said he'd try not that he'd come.
maybe you saw it coming yet it still disappointed you anyways.
your phone rang. even before you see who it was — you knew it's none other than sukuna. your heart screamed at you to answer his phone call, but your mind told you to leave it ringing because you were in no mood to talk to him. yet, at the end — you still pressed the answer button.
"what?"
"where are you?" his rough voice echoed through the line as you walked down the nearly empty street, holding onto your purse, "place's closed."
scoffing, you answered, "'f course it's closed, it's almost ten. i've been waiting for three hours, ryo. three hours."
you could hear him inhale sharply, "i was caught up with something, woman. where are you now?" he questioned. hearing a few car honking behind on the background, "where are you? answer me."
"doesn't matter, i left. and i'm leaving you, i was wrong thinking maybe i could've changed you — turns out, i couldn't. good luck to you," you mutter out sternly.
sukuna raised a brow, "y're kidding."
you weren't, and all he could hear next was the loud dial tune of the other line hanging up — now did he realize that this was all serious and you were actually leaving him for good.
──────〃★ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎
you sighed, dialing toji for the first time of the night when he said that he was going to pick you up for a date, the phone rung for a while before going into voicemail. grumbling under your breath, you tried dialing him again for the second time, which ended up the same way.
all these time spent on makeup and picking out the best outfit — all for nothing as your boyfriend, toji failed to show up on time. angry, you tried calling him again for the third time, only for it to end up in voicemail yet again. this time you decided to leave a message for him.
"hey, you forgot. didn't you? hope you're happy with yourself, cause 'm not."
dating toji wasn't the easiest — but you love him, no matter what he was like. and it was stupid of you to do so, all this time you've defended his name against your friends' malice towards him, saying how he wasn't treating you well enough and that you deserved so much better.
despite all that, you love him. disregarding their words, retorting back to how toji treats you well, which he does — except for the times he tended to forget about everything, even you. maybe it was time to open your eyes and actually break up; because you did deserve better than this.
it would be a shame to let all this makeup go to waste, and so you hailed a cab and decided to go out for a treat. and made the best out of everything, that is until toji decided it would be the most convenient time to call you back amidst your little "me time".
wiping your hand on the napkin, you answered him, "huh, you're alive," you muttered out, huffing.
he sighs, "i forgot, sorry." you couldn't see him, but toji actually looked remorseful, already on his way out of his apartment to yours, "i'm on my way."
you chuckled, "doesn't matter. i left my house," you informed, taking a bite out of the crab meat, "so don't bother coming — and i don't think i don't deserve this kind of treatment from anyone, even you, toji. i'm breaking up with you because clearly you don't take this relationship as seriously as i am."
toji furrowed his brows, "i forgot, i fucked up, i can make it up. where are you right now?" he asks, his voice still as calm as cucumber. but the look on his face contradicted the tone of his voice.
"bye, toji. good luck."
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© shoyudon 2024 . no copying or reposting allowed !
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lesservillain · 2 days
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v. i want to hold the hand inside you
summary: a collection of moments through the holiday season. also a little bit of insight into eddie's pov. cw: smut (not with eddie), male masturbation, sexual fantasies, two idiots in love trope, eddie's mental anguish a/n: hi i'm back. missed you all and this series. hope it lives up to the hype. around 12.5k words. please continue reading after the fic for an important message regarding this series.
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Shuffling down the stairs, you're greeted by the smell of coffee brewing and bacon frying in the kitchen. The grumbling in your stomach reminds you that you’d eaten way too much candy the night before, and that real food was much needed if you were going to get through the day.
When you rounded the corner into the kitchen, you were expecting to be greeted by the master chef Charles at the stove. But instead you were greeted by Tonya’s beautiful, slightly confused face. With a rag slung over her shoulder and spatula in hand, you watched her attempt to flip what looked like a very, very fried egg.
“You need some help?” You ask. Tonya jumps, hand on her chest as she catches herself. Clearly she had been in the zone, focused on the task at hand. Although, that didn't seem to keep help her in her food making endeavors.
“Jesus, can you be a little louder when you walk in the room next time?” 
“Sorry Tonnie,” you laugh, moving around her to get a drink from the fridge. “Been working on walking around as quiet as possible so I don’t wake Ed—everyone up when I’m working.”
Tonya's whole demeanor suddenly shifts. After plating the eggs and setting them aside, she turns her whole body to face you. Your eyes go wide as she takes the stance you know so well; the one she takes before she’s about to lecture you.
“While you’re working?” She asks, an eyebrow quirked in a suspicious fashion.
“Y-yeah…" you respond, not liking the way she starts to slowly saunter towards you. "Okay, can we skip the games, please? What’s wrong?”
“Why was there a red cape in your car last night?”
You feel like the room is going to spin. Not wanting to fuss with it you had thrown the costume cape in the back seat when you left Eddie’s last night. By the time you got all of your overthinking in, you’d completely forgotten to grab it and bring it inside. 
“Wha—I, uh—”
Tonya says your name to cut off your babbling. 
“If you wanted to go out and spend Halloween with Sam you could have just told me that.”
“What? Oh, god no.” Your nose scrunches in offense at the mere suggestion until you remember that it’s probably normal to want to spend time with the guy you’re dating. “I mean…I didn’t spend Halloween with Sam.”
“Okaaaay?” She draws the word out, head bobbing as she waits for you to explain yourself. You breath in, looking at her carefully before exhaling with a sigh.
“Promise me you will listen to what I have to say before coming to any conclusions.” 
Tonya says your name with a serious tone. You can see the anger starting to brew in her, and you can only hope that once you tell her everything that’s been going on for the last two months that she’ll understand. The need to rip the band aide off was becoming more apparent, especially when you needed her guidance on some of the thinking you had done.
“Promise me?” You say again, not backing down.
“Ugh, fine.” She walks over to the table and sits down, motioning for you to take the seat across from her. 
“So, I think the first thing I need to clear up is that…I don’t actually have a night job. At least, not in the sense that I’m getting paid. It’s a volunteering position.”
You watch the way her mouth tightens, nostrils flaring as she expresses all her unspoken words with her face. But, she doesn’t say anything so you keep going.
“It’s something that I signed up for at the very beginning of the semester. Granted, it wasn’t supposed to be an overnight thing...but the person I’m taking care of needed overnight care and I just—I couldn’t say no, Tonnie.”
Air blows out between her lips like steam, and you can tell you need to get the rest of the information out to her before she can’t hold it in anymore.
“The reason why I even hid any of this from you is because the person I’ve been taking care of was turned down by everyone else at sign ups…because he was a murder suspect.”
“Oh, no. No, no, no.” Her hands wave in front of her and she shakes her head. “I’m really hoping that I did not hear you right. Because there’s no way you’re telling me that, you, of ALL PEOPLE, have been spending the last two months babysitting a MURDERER?!”
“He didn’t actually murder anyone!” You shout back. Tonya’s eyes roll as she throws her hands up dramatically. 
“What does that even mean?!”
“Eddie was accused of murder, but he didn’t actually do it!”
“Eddie?! Eddie who?!”
“His name is Eddie Munson,” you say, “he was actually framed by the real murderer. The guy tortured him, Tonya! His…his body is covered in scars and…and he ended up loosing his leg. Like, from the knee down. And he was so sick when I got there. He’s come such a long way since then…”
Tonya’s face is like stone, blinking slowly as you go on about Eddie and all the things you’ve helped him accomplish in the last two months. You hadn’t even realized that you’d been rambling until the sound of her bedroom door caught your attention.
“Charles is here?” You ask her quietly after the bathroom door closes. You're shocked when she confirms that he had stayed the night. He'd never stayed the night before, at least while you were there.
“We had a fun night,” Tonya says with a sly smirk. “He’s probably feeling it this morning.”
“Ah, I see,” you nod. The sound of retching coming from the upstairs bathroom had the two of you giggling. Tonya leans in towards you, resting her chin on her hands as she looks at you.
“So,” she starts, “Can I ask you a side question before we get into this Eddie guy?”
“Sure,” you say suspiciously.
“Is Sam real?”
“What?” You chuckle. “Yeah, he’s real. Why do you ask?”
“Well, I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t a lie you made up to go see your little criminal boyfriend.”
You reel back, shocked by the accusations of her statement.
“Eddie’s not my boyfriend,” you assure her. But the look on her face tells you she’s not buying it.
“Really? Because you just talked more about this guy in the last 20 minutes than you’ve talked about Sam since you two started dating.”
“Well…I spend five days a week with him, so of course I have more to say about Eddie than Sam. But…”
“But…?”
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“What bit you in the ass this mornin’?”
Eddie stirs his coco wheat's mindlessly as the Andy Griffith’s Show plays on the TV. If you were to ask Wayne, he’d say Eddie was acting like a cat after it got caught in the rain, all pissy and ready to swat and anyone who looked at him.
“Nothin’,” Eddie grumbles, not bothering to look at his uncle as he spoke. Wayne sighed, grabbing the TV remote and turning it off. He shifts forward on the couch cushion until he was sitting on the edge.
“Did somethin’ happen at the Trick r Treat thing?”
Eddie exhaled, slumping back in the recliner dramatically before finally facing his uncle.
“Nothing happened. I just—Did you know she has a boyfriend?”
Wayne’s head tilts to the side. “What? No she don’t? Told me when she started.”
“Well, she must have lied to you because she told Harrington last night that she was seeing some guy named Sam from her school.” Eddie’s arms cross over his chest like a child with an attitude.
“Why’d she tell him that?”
“Because, in typical Harrington fashion, the guy flirts with any girl that crosses his path.”
“So she told him she had a boyfriend?”
“Yep.”
“Maybe she was lyin’ t’em.”
Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. He hadn’t thought about that. He just assumed you hadn’t told him because you knew he liked you by now and didn’t want to hurt his feelings.
“But what if she’s not?” Eddie’s voice is soft in his vulnerability. He’d told Wayne about his growing feelings for you about a month ago. About how he thought you were beautiful from the first time he’d seen you, but he’d stuffed those feeling down immediately. 
He tried his best to push you away, hoping that you’d run with your tail between your legs after how rude he’d been to you. But you didn’t seem to budge, so he tried to ignore you instead. That obviously didn’t work out either. His hopes went up when you saw him on the floor that faithful night. He thought that you’d be so repulsed by him that you’d turn and run on the spot. 
But, of course you didn’t.
You looked at him as if he wasn’t a broken man who’d been beaten and almost eaten alive by supernatural bats. Who’d been abused and almost murdered by hospital staff who were supposed to be in charge of his life. Who was sent home to a place he didn’t know, with barely anything to his name after the Upside Down swallowed his trailer whole.
In hindsight, he almost wishes you had ran. Because this feeling that he’s had every day since has been more painful than any of his scars or shredded limbs. He wishes you had been shallow and vapid, because he would have a reason to hate you, rather than feel lonely whenever you weren’t around. 
And maybe he’d feel less bad about the times he’s touched himself while thinking about how your body presses against his when you help move him to his chair. Or the way your chest brushes against his shoulder when you’ve put your arms around him while you watch their DnD games. 
Shit, he’d only agreed to do physical therapy in the first place because you’d leaned in front of him and practically begged him. Did you know that he could almost see perfectly down your shirt when you did that? He was glad he did it, though, because the strength that’s slowly being restored to his hands was making it easier to jerk off to the thought of you.
Eddie tried to pushed those thoughts back. He didn’t want to feel that way about you. Well, not in this gross, perverted way at least. You didn’t deserve that. 
“If’n she’s not lyin’, then…well…” Wayne settles into a silence. Eddie feels himself getting upset, head titling back to push the impending tears away before they could spill over. 
It wasn’t fair for him to feel this way. He wouldn’t have had a chance with you even before everything that happened to him, so why was he getting all worked up as if you’d ever seen him as anything other than a pitiful shell of the man he used to be. No matter how much you poured into him, he would never have enough to return the favor.
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Eddie had been distant the last few weeks. Not back to his grumpy self, but more closed off than he had been with you lately. Any time you touched him unprompted, he would pull away or make an excuse to move away from you. He still talked with you, but that teasing banter that he would throw your way was few and far between. 
It hurt to feel like you were being locked out again, but you didn’t question it. Eddie didn’t owe you any explanations anyway. But you still couldn’t help to over analyze his behaviors every night before falling asleep.
Even now as you sit with him and Wayne and sort through old pictures that Wayne had found after going through their storage unit. Wayne is doing most of the talking, with Eddie chiming in here and there to give short interjections.
“Eddie, you’re joking,” you gasp.
It was just a shoebox, but it was filled to the brim with pictures of Eddie when he was little. The picture in question that you were absolutely gushing over was of Eddie and a woman that you’d assumed to be his mom by their matching chocolate button eyes. Her hair was wild like Eddie’s; long red curls teased to high heaven that framed her delicate face. Toddler Eddie was on her hip in a Christmas themed outfit, a huge, baby toothed grin plastered on his face as beamed at his mother. The back of the picture read ‘Eddie & Flo Christmas ‘68.’
“I’m not,” he says with little enthusiasm. “Unfortunately, I look just like my dad, besides my eyes. Wish I looked more like her, though.” 
“No, look,” you say, pointing at his moms smile. “You have her smile, too. Dimples and all.”
“Hold on,” Eddie says, taking the box and sifting through the pictures. It took him a few minutes to finally pull out a picture before handing it to you. 
What you weren’t prepared to see was a picture of a man who looked practically identical to Eddie, sans the long hair and clad in a military uniform. Next to him was a younger Wayne Munson, dressed in a leather jacket and with a much fuller head of hair. You studied the picture a bit before flipping it over.
‘Allan and Wayne April 1970 Day of Departure’
“Your dad was in Vietnam?” You ask, looking at the picture again, still mesmerized at the resemblance.
“Yeah, he got drafted and shipped out a month before my 5th birthday,” Eddie said with indifference.
“I thought you could be excused from the draft if you were married with kids?”
“Al and Flo weren’t married,” Wayne interjected. “And Al was dead set Eddie wasn’t his so he didn’t even show up to his birth. I’s there, though, cause I knew Flo wasn’t like those other girls he was chasin’ after. And when I tell you I wanted nothin more's to kick my brother’s ass as soon as I saw that little face for the first time.” 
Wayne grabs the box from the coffee table and shuffles around it a bit until he found a picture. He looks at it for a moment before handing it to you. “Poor Flo did all that time cookin’ that one there for him to come out lookin’ exactly like his daddy.”
The picture was of Eddie’s mother in her hospital bed, wild red hair tied up and looking exhausted. But her smile was wild, and she was flashing a peace sign at the camera. An even younger Wayne was holding a bundled up new born Eddie proudly in his arms, holding him up in a way that shows off Eddie’s chubby baby face. He really did look like his dad, the Munson genes definitely being more dominant.
You flip the picture over to read the back.
‘Florence, Wayne, and Edward May 13th, 1965.’
Wayne fished out more pictures of Eddie as a baby, and you cooed over every single one, much to Eddie’s dismay. Through this you discovered Eddie’s middle name was James after his late grandfather that passed on the strong Munson genes to his father.
You couldn’t help but feel bad for Eddie’s mother, though. She was only 17 when she had Eddie, and her strict parents kicked her out because of it. Thankfully, Eddie’s grandparents took her in and Al apparently came around and stepped up when he held Eddie for the first time. 
They stayed living all together until Al was drafted. But not long after, Eddie’s mom got really sick. She had been hiding it, hoping that it would go away on it’s own, until it had suddenly gotten worse. Wayne moved back home to help raise Eddie when his mother started getting sick. She died in 1971, a week before Al was set to come home from Vietnam. 
“That’s when he started gettin’ in trouble. Flo had whipped him into shape in a way not even the military could accomplish. And when she was gone before he could say goodbye—”
“Can I go outside?” Eddie’s hand wipes over his eyes harshly. He scoots to the edge of the chair and reaches out for his wheelchair. You jump up at his request, getting his chair situated for him before helping him into it. He clung to you for a moment longer than he normally would, but you didn’t mind.
“Let me get your coat,” Wayne says, pushing off the couch. When he’s just out of earshot, you look at Eddie, his eyes glassy and downcast as if deep in thought, and tap him on the shoulder.
“Hey, do you think that when you have kids they’ll be clones of you, too?”
Eddie’s posture straightens, his eyes wide when he meets yours. 
“What? I, um, I don’t—” He clears his throat and shifts in his seat. “I haven’t really thought about it. Didn’t really plan on kids anyway.”
“Oh, really? I guess that’s understandable. Not everyone wants kids.”
“Do you?”
“Hmm, maybe one day,” you shrug. “Not really rushing to have one right now or anything. More focused on school and taking care of you.” Eddie smiles, but ducks his head to hide it from you. 
“Well, I guess I’m good practice for taking care of one,” he says.
“No, you’re way harder to take care of.” He barks out a laugh, rolling away from you to meet Wayne half way to the door. 
While the two of them go outside to smoke, you busy yourself in the kitchen putting away the Thanksgiving dinner you and Wayne had put together, with Eddie’s help on stirring duty. Ben had come by and ate with all of you, seemingly more comfortable being around while you were at the Munson’s residence with his more frequent visits.
It didn’t take you long to clean up. Wayne had apologized all morning for the dinner not being anything fancy, and you reassured him every time that you didn’t care. You’d been used to spending Thanksgiving with just your grandparents, and then just your grandma for so long that you’d never made much of a big deal out of the holiday like others do. 
Sam specifically told you on multiple occasions about how everyone in his family makes a very big deal about holidays. Apparently they were also looking forward to meeting you, which came as a shock considering he hadn’t even asked you to go, he just assumed you would. When you told him it felt like it was way too soon to meet his family, he seemed bummed but thankfully didn’t press further.
“Damnit, I told ya she’d be in here cleanin’ up, Eds,” Wayne hollers from the living room.
“I’m sorry, I can’t help it!”
“We’re gonna have to start paying her if she’s gonna start doing the maid’s job,” Eddie says, rolling into the kitchen and up to the fridge. He goes to grab for a beer, but you call for him, stopping him in his tracks.
“Eddie, if you have a beer this late you can’t take your pain meds.”
“That’s fine,” Eddie says, plucking the beer from the door and presenting it to you. “I wasn’t gonna take it tonight anyway.”
“What? Why?”
“Wanna try and get used to not having it.”
You want to argue with him, but he’s giving you that wet, sad look that he knows will get you to fold. And you do, snatching the beer from his hands and popping the tab open. 
He holds his hand out to grab it from you, but you decide to fuck with him a bit and take a sip of it yourself. It tastes like nasty cheep beer, but you do your best to remain as neutral as possible, even letting out an “ahhh” after you swallow.
Eddie looks up at you with pure shock, frozen in place like he was petrified. It makes you laugh as you place the can back in his hand, waiting a moment for him to grab it before letting go.
“Y-you can have it if you want,” he stutters, not moving.
“It’s okay, Eddie, I was just messing with you,” you say, placing a hand on his shoulder as you walk past him out of the kitchen.
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Eddie thrusts sloppily into his folded pillow, held together by his body weight as he lays on top of it. It took a lot of trial and error, but Eddie’s found this to be the most effective way for him to get off when his hands are too sore to just jerk off. 
He didn’t mind it though, because this set up made it feel more real to him. He didn’t have any frame of reference to know what it felt like to fuck a real pussy, but the friction of his pillowcase felt good enough that he was able to bypass the texture if he just focused on the fantasies in his head. 
All of them revolved around you, of course. He tries to stave off of giving into his urges. Especially considering he usually had to look you in the face at some point after. He felt like he was going to give himself some kind of pavlov response if he allowed himself to jerk off from any small domestic gesture that you threw his way.
Today was a bit too much for him, though. He’s happy you came over since he fully expected you to ditch him and Wayne for some other plans.
But you didn’t.
Not only did you come over, but you came over early, dressed up in an outfit that had Eddie fighting off a hard on from the moment you arrived. And basically acted as if you’d been part of the family for years rather than only knowing them for a few months. You were a natural addition to the Munson clan and that played on Eddie's mind a lot when he thought about you like this.
And when you took a sip of Eddie’s beer before giving it to him…Eddie was ashamed to even think about how much that affected him. Not only was it practically an indirect kiss, but he’d never seen you let loose like that, even if it was just a sip. You felt comfortable around him to blur that line of professionalism that you tried to keep up when you cared for him, and Eddie was letting the delusions run rampant.
“Haaa, fuck,” he whines into his other pillow as he ruts into the makeshift pussy that he desperately wishes was yours. He’s imagining you lying under him, his bare chest pressing into your back as he plows into you from behind. He thinks about how you’d be calling out his name. Are you vocal in bed, or would you be biting into his pillow like he is now to keep himself quiet?
Eddie pulls his shirt back up to his nose and your scent that rubbed off on it filled his nostrils, sending him over the edge. He cums suddenly with a low groan, spurts of white cum spilling in between the fold of the sandwiched pillow. His breath hitches, eyes going in and out of focus as he cums harder than he ever has before. 
After catching his breath, Eddie pushes himself over and onto his back. He lays there, waiting for the guilt to creep in like it always does. He thinks back to your conversation earlier, about him wanting kids. It kills him. 
Did you really think he would ever have the chance to have kids? Besides not knowing if his swimmers even work after what he went though, he would have to meet someone who would treat him with even a fraction of the kindness you give him. And then he’d have to convince them that he was worthy enough for their love and not a burden. 
You saying you want kids one day hurt even worse. It was a feasible dream for you, to start a family with someone you loved. Eddie had barely thought about kids, but now he’s laying here thinking about what a normal life would be like with you. A house with a white picket fence, two kids, a dog…
Tears rolled down Eddie’s temples and disappeared into his sweaty hair line. He grabbed the soiled pillow and pulled off the pillowcase, carefully pulling it inside out and tossing it into his laundry basket. He pulled his comforter over himself to hide away from the world. 
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The bed shakes as Sam lands on his back next to you. He says…something, but you’re too busy in your own head to catch it. The ache between your legs tries to get your attention as well, but you would rather listen to Sam speak than address that right now.
“Hey, are you okay?” Sam’s hand waves in front of your face and you force yourself to smile when you look at him. “Did I really blow your mind that much?”
“Hmm? Oh, yeah,” you nod enthusiastically, probably overdoing it. You feel an ick wash over you when he smiles triumphantly. He leans in to kiss you and you turn your head so that his lips hit your cheek.
“I’m gonna go get us some water. Feel free to use my bathroom to clean up.” You lay still until Sam leaves the room, holding your breath until you’re sure he’s gone. 
Jumping up from the bed, you grab your clothes and quickly redress. You can’t find your tights but at this point you don’t even care, you just want to get out of there as fast as you can. Sam is standing in the hallway with a glass of water when you open the bedroom door. He looks at you up and down with confusion.
“You okay?” He asks.
“Yeah, I, uh…I forgot that I promised to help Tonya put up Christmas decorations tomorrow.” You move past him, but he grabs your arm to stop you.
“Do you have to leave right now?” He asks, a distressed look on his face.
“I’m sorry, but I probably should. Tonya likes to get up early to start the process and--”
“Okay, I understand,” Sam says, taking a deep breath in. “Can I, um, I want—I need to ask you something before you go.”
Your heart feels like it’s dropped into your stomach, nauseating you instantly. You have a sneaking suspicion that you know what he’s going to ask, but you really don’t think you can do this right now.
“Can we talk about it later? I think it’s supposed to start snowing soon,” you say, pulling your arm from his grasp. “Really want to get home before the roads get bad—”
“Will you be my girlfriend?”
The reaction your body had to his question was similar to one you would have if you heard nails on a chalkboard. If the ground opened up and swallowed you whole right now you’d be thankful for a quick escape from this situation. 
You relaxed your body and looked at Sam. He’s a nice guy, truly, but after everything that transpired in his bedroom…
“Sam…”
“Yeah?” His puppy dog eyes are making this harder than you want it to be.
“I….” You sigh, “I need to think about it. I’m going through a lot with finals coming up and taking care of Ed—I mean, Mr. Munson--”
“But you’re almost done with both of those? Christmas break is just around the corner, and I really would like you to meet my family.”
“Wait, what do you mean I’m almost done?”
“Well, you’re finals are, like, a week and a half away. And next week is your last week for the volunteer program so you won’t be needing to go to Hawkins anymore. We called all the families and let them know so that they could make other arrangements a week or two ago.”
All the air around you felt like it was sucked away. Wayne didn’t tell you that he had gotten a call. Was he even going to bring it up? Did he just expect you to up and leave him and Eddie?
“Sam, I really need to go,” you say with a strained breath. You don’t give him much of a chance to answer before you’re grabbing your coat and heading out his front door. Snow was already starting to stick to the ground as you got to your car. Sam stood at his front door, still in his boxers as you got in your car and drove off.
Driving on autopilot, your brain began to recall and process exactly what happened while you were with Sam. He had been off putting ever since you saw him after Thanksgiving, but you almost felt bad for him. All this time you convinced yourself that this really attractive guy was giving you attention and you just we’re being grateful for it. 
But today solidified for you that you couldn’t deny the way you were feeling anymore. Not when the whole time the two of you were having sex, you couldn’t get Eddie out of your head. Every touch, every thrust, you could only think about Eddie being the one on top of you making you feel good. You’re pretty sure you would have cum if it was actually Eddie.
The feelings you had for Eddie sat behind a glass wall inside your mind ever since you were able to pour your heart out to Tonya. But, no matter how much you wanted to, you knew you could never act on them. It would go against every code of conduct for you to have a romantic relationship with a patient. You could potentially get kicked out of nursing school if you were ever found out.
Not to mention you had no idea if Eddie would even accept your feelings. Sure, he has come out of his shell and let you into his life in more ways that you had imagined when you first met him. But, you didn’t want to delude yourself into thinking it was anything deeper than an appreciation for the care you’ve given him. Eddie and Wayne were good people, and you didn’t want to mistake that kindness for anything more than what it was.
But, fuck, did it suck to find out you might only have one more week to spend with them.
Between the thick snowflakes and the racing of your mind, you didn’t notice the way the road was getting icier as the snow continued to fall. A turn snuck up on you in the heavy snowfall and you slammed on the brakes to slow down, but your car continued to slide across the snowy road. 
Your car fishhooks before the back end whips around, sending you spinning into a ditch. It’s not a deep one, but the lack of traction under your tire sends them spinning with barely any movement from your car. You curse under your breath, all of your emotions bubbling up until you smack your steering wheel out of frustration.
After taking a few minutes to cool off, you take a look around you to assess your surroundings. It’s hard to see much, the back road you’re on has no streetlights and you’re not sure if you’d be able to see any house lights even if you were in someone’s yard. You start to panic, unsure of what you’re next move should be. You don’t have enough gas to wait out the night, but you should still have an emergency blanket in your trunk.
You have to hype yourself up to leave your car, moving as fast as you could to the back. As you went to open the trunk, fumbling with your keys lead to dropping them in the white snow at your feet. Your eyes stung as your tears began to gather, the cold wind instantly chilling them. 
Without a second thought, you let out a loud scream into the dark night sky. You felt around for your keys, the cold metal biting your already cold hands as you finally opened your trunk, only to find it empty. That’s when you remember that you had taken the blanket out of your trunk and thrown it in your back seat for the trunk r treat night.
The trunk of your car slams hard enough to make the car shake, and you practically rip the door off the hinge when you grab the blanket.
Just as you’re about to get back in your front seat whe a light comes into view from the down the road. Relief washes over you when you can see it’s a car coming your way. You jump up and down, waving your hands around to get the cars attention, the big truck rolling to a stop next to you.
“Are you okay, darlin’?” A little old woman’s voice calls from the rolled down window.
“No,” you yell with a pathetic sniffle. The driver side door of the truck opens and a little old man jumps out and rounds the front. He lets you inside and you slide into the bench seat between the two.
The couple apparently heard you scream from their house and came out to check what was going on. The snow was so thick you didn’t even realize their house was only a few hundred feet away from your car. The woman made you a hot drink as you used their phone to call for someone to pick you up.
“Hello?” Wayne’s gruff voice could have been intimidating to hear if it was anyone else calling the Munson house this time of night.
“Wayne, it’s me.”
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You thank the older couple profusely for everything before bounding out to the truck waiting for you in their driveway. It had taken Wayne almost 45 minutes to get to you with all of the snow, but he promised he would get to you even if it took hours.
When you pulled open the passenger door, you were surprised to see Eddie sitting there with a worried look.
“Eddie, I didn’t know you were coming.”
“Boy was worried sick ‘bout’cha,” Wayne calls from the other side of Eddie.
“Wayne,” he groans, scooting over on the bench seat to make room for you. 
“Aw, that was really sweet of you to be worried about me,” you tease, leaning your head on his shoulder to push his buttons a little bit more. Eddie adverts his gaze, mumbling a whatever under his breath making Wayne chuckle.
Wayne backs out of the driveway and starts the journey to Tonya’s. The conversation is light until Wayne asks what you were doing out so late at night during a snow storm.
“I was out with some of my classmates,” you lie, not wanting to bring up being with Sam. The thought of him only brought all of the thoughts you had earlier in the night to the forefront of your mind, and you were suddenly very aware of how much of your body was touching Eddie’s in this cramped seating arrangement. 
The chill of the night had been cut by his natural body heat against you, making you subconsciously curled into him at some point during the drive. You went to pull away, but his body started to move with yours until he was leaning into you.
“Sorry,” he said, trying to adjust himself, “I usually lean against the door to keep my balance.”
“Oh my god, Eddie, I’m sorry,” you say, moving closer to him again. “I would have sat in the middle if I had known.” 
“It’s okay,” he says quietly before you felt his body weight leaning against you again. 
The small talk dwindled into a peaceful quiet as Wayne drove the country road with ease. The snow has started to ease up, almost completely stopped by the time you saw the city marker indicating you were close to being home.
As you were leaning into Eddie’s shoulder, you felt a bit of weight fall on top of your head, your vision slightly obstructed by curly brown hair that fell over your face. Eddie’s light snores next to your ear was all the confirmation you needed that he’d fallen asleep and was using you as a pillow. 
A warm, bubbly feeling filled you at the sudden closeness. Even a small interaction like this made you feel a million times more exultant than you’ve ever felt with Sam. Or anyone for that matter. 
“Wayne,” you called to the older man, wanting to distract yourself from your thoughts. He hummed in response, his hat covered head tilting slightly in your direction while his eyes remained on the snowy roads. “Tonight one of my…friends from class, they mentioned something about this week being the last week of our volunteer work.”
Wayne went rigid in his seat, shifting to sit upright again. He cleared his throat, visibly becoming more distraught with each passing second.
“Yeah, I guess that’s right, isn’t it? I, um…” Wayne ran a hand over his mouth, rubbing it back and forth against the stubble before it landed back on the steering wheel. 
“’ve been-- been trying, ya know, to get someone to take over nights. I thought about askin’ Hop, but he’s done enough for us. Plus he’s got family now, so s’not fair to ask him. Could come off the nights, but that shift diff is really gettin’ us by.” Wayne nods his head to the side, “Ed says he can stay home by himself, but I just…I can’t have em fallin’ and not bein’ able to get emself up. Lord forbid he fall and break his hip er somethin’.”
“So…it sounds like you haven’t found anyone?”
Wayne sighs, shaking his head. “Well, that’s not…” He pauses, letting out a huff of air through his nose. “There is someone who is willing to come a couple nights a week if we need ‘em…”
“But?” You press, curious as to who this person might be.
“But…I’ll just say he’s not my first pick to take responsibility for anyone.”
“I see,” you say, looking down at where Eddie’s thigh is pressed against yours, the end of his jeans smoothed over the amputation spot where you’d sewn the end shut for him.
“Can I ask why you didn’t ask me if I could keep coming over?”
Wayne was still, like he was holding his breath. 
“I, um, we…”
“It’s okay,” you cut him off. “I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that. If you don’t want me to keep coming I totally understand--”
“No, no! That’s not it at all,” Wayne says defensively. “We both kinda assumed that you weren’t…allowed to.”
“Oh…well I don’t think there’s anything that says I couldn’t keep coming over? It’s not like I’m being paid, so I don’t think I’m violating any of my school’s rules. And he’s been doing so well, it wouldn’t be any different than if anyone else came over to stay with him.”
The truck was quiet for a moment, except for the directions you gave Wayne as he turned into Tonya’s neighborhood. Once he pulled into the empty driveway, he shift the old beater truck into park and turned to look at you. You must have been quite a sight sitting there with his nephew practically on top of you as he snoozed away. But you still smiled up at him, even as he shook his head at the two of you.
“So, I don’t want you to say yes just because I told you I was havin’ trouble. Okay? Promise me if you say yes that it’s not outta pity.”
“I promise,” you say, crossing your fingers for him to see.
“Alright, well, if it’s not gonna cause you any issue, would you be able to keep comin’ down to stay with Ed at night? It doesn’t have to be every day. Like I said, I got someone who said he can stay a night or two a week if we need ‘em—”
“Can I ask who it is you’re talking about?”
“It’s, uh, it’s a guy Ed went to school with. He’s a little older--names Rick—they’ve been friends since Eddie was a freshman—”
“Rick? Like Reefer Rick?” You question, Eddie’s weight on you being the only thing keeping you from jumping out of your seat.
“Well, yeah, that’s him. I guess Eddie must’ve talked bout him by now.”
“He hasn’t told me much about him. But, he did come over one day after you’d already left for work when the boys were over.”
“Ah, yeah, I forgot Eddie told me he came by,” Wayne nodded.
“I guess I understand why you don’t want him to be the one to stay over.” 
“Yeah, he’s just…not a very responsible kid,” Wayne says with a shake of his head.
“That’s like…the nice way to put it, I suppose.” 
Eddie suddenly lifts his head from your shoulder, his tired, confused eyes scanning his surroundings before looking at you. He smiles, breathing in harshly as he stretches, one arm going forward and the other behind you. 
“Hi,” he breathes out, his voice groggy and low from just being asleep. It does that thing to you where it goes straight from your ears to between your legs. 
“Hi Eddie,” you giggle, looking up at his dopey, half asleep still expression. Wayne clears his throat and Eddie’s whole body turns to look at him, then all around once more as if he’s only just noticing his surroundings for the first time.
“Where are we?” He asks with pinched brows.
“My house,” you say, taking that as your cue to grab your things and exit the vehicle.
“Shit, that was a quick drive,” Eddie says running a hand over his eyes.
“Quick only cause you used that poor girl like a mattress while you slept,” Wayne quips. 
“I did? Damn, I’m sorry,” Eddie apologizes, his eyes wide as if panicked.
“Oh, I didn’t care,” you say as you opened the car door, the cold air hitting you straight to the bone and making you shiver. But even with the winter air trying to turn you into a popsicle, you still took your time getting out, not wanting to make Eddie lose his balance and fall. 
Once Eddie was situated back in the passenger seat, you gave the two men your goodbyes, promising Wayne to finish the conversation when you come by on Monday.
The Munson men waited in the drive way to make sure you got inside okay, waving back to you as they took off down the road.
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Every day for the next week felt like a rollercoaster. 
Sunday consisted of Tonya taking you to get your car and you ignoring phone calls from Sam. You and Tonya also decorated the house together, so you technically didn’t lie to Sam when you left.
Monday you were almost late to class, doing your best to wait until the last second to pull into the schools parking lot so as to avoid Sam in case he was waiting for you. You felt bad for not giving him an answer before you left him on Saturday. But after an all day conversation with Tonya that started with telling her that you couldn’t get Eddie out of your head while you were having sex with Sam and ended with you guys talking about what colours you think Eddie would like if you ever got married one day, you figured you should probably cut things off with him.
You were never good at telling anyone no, this much you knew about yourself. And if you were completely honest, you were a little worried that if you didn’t wait until the right time that Sam might puppy dog eye you into changing your mind. But, you had to be strong. If you could just get through until next Wednesday after finals…
Speaking of finals. After some discussion with the Munson men, it was decided that you would keep coming to stay with Eddie over night until further notice. Both of them seemed to be relieved, although Eddie did say he wanted to keep working on building his strength so that Wayne would feel comfortable enough to let him be alone at some point in the future.
Once that was settled, you immediately made a deal with Eddie, making him your personal exam study buddy. Every day he quizzed you, went through flash cards with you, and looked over your homework for you, handing it back if he didn’t think the answer you gave matched what the textbook said.
“I feel like I could be a nurse after all of this,” Eddie said, placing the thick deck of flash cards down on the side table. The flipping between the cards had been serving as a good exercise for building up his hand dexterity, but often left them a little sore by the time you’d gone through all of them.
“I think I’d pay good money to see you in one of my school’s nursing uniforms,” you tease, standing up to refill his cup.
“Good money, huh? Like, maybe a college tuition’s worth?” He calls back from his chair. You bark out a laugh.
“You’d have to put that uniform to good use for me to shell out that kind of cash, if you know what I mean.” Eddie howls at your suggestive words.
“Don’t know how good of a dancer I’d be with only one leg, sweetheart!”
After a long week of studying, Friday finally rolled around and it was time to fulfill your part of the bargain. 
With Eddie in the passenger seat, the two of you set off towards Castleton Square in Indianapolis. The roads were busy, full of people with the same idea as you and Eddie; last minute Christmas shopping. 
You’d lied to Wayne about where you were going per Eddie’s request. He knew that if he told Wayne where he was going that he would try and give him money to buy his gifts. 
But ever since his disability checks (finally) started coming in, Eddie had secretly been saving some on the side so that he could get some things for everyone for Christmas.
That included Wayne, and he wasn’t about to use the man’s own money to buy him a Christmas gift. So, as far as Wayne knew, the two of you were going to see Grant and his girlfriend's new apartment. 
“Damn, this place is packed,” Eddie said, head on a swivel as you tried to navigate the mall’s parking lot without taking out a pedestrian. 
“No kidding,” you say, pulling up towards one of the mall’s entrances. 
“I’m gonna let you out here,” you say, flipping on your blinkers. Once Eddie is situated in his chair, you wait for him to wheel inside the first set of doors before taking off to park. 
After 20 minutes of searching and briefly getting into it with a 70 year old over a handicap spot, you finally make your way to the mall entrance. It was just as crazy inside of the mall as you’d expected it to be with Christmas only a few more days away. People of all different background suddenly become unified by their arms being full of copious amounts of shopping bags. 
Eddie sat just inside the doors, eyes flickering across his surroundings, as if anticipating something. But as you enter into the crowded mall, his anxiousness seems to melt away as soon as his gaze meets yours. 
“You okay?” You ask, grabbing your purse from his lap. 
“Yeah, yeah,” he says, waving his hand at you. “I’m just…scoping the place out. For stores to shop in.” He saves himself at the last moment and you decide to let that excuse be enough for you.
To say the mall was pure chaos was an understatement. Many of the stores were restocking shelves at a record speeds, people fighting over toys and clothes and shoes that they HAD to have, lest little Tommy or Susie not get everything on their Christmas list. Every bench was filled to the brim with husbands and dads left in charge of bag duty while their wives wrack up their credit cards in the name of Christmas spirit.
Thankfully, no one wanted to be the person that's a dick to the guy in the wheelchair during the holiday season, so navigating the crowds was a little easier than you anticipated. The two of you bobbed and weaved through the stores, picking up a few things here and there for your respective friends and loved ones. Eddie was even brave enough to do a little shopping on his own while you ran to the bathroom.
Once the two of you regrouped, you took in Eddie’s haggard appearance and decided to call for a cookie break.
“Damn, what do they put in these things?” Eddie asks, his eyes closing as he takes another bite of his double chocolate cookie.
“I don’t know,” you say, sitting on the edge of a cement planter, not a single available seat in sight, “but whatever it is should probably be illegal. I could probably eat 10 of these things.”
“Mmm, agreed,” he says with a mouth full of cookie. 
The two of you sit and enjoy your treats in silence. Not out of neglect for the other, but out a mutual curiosity as you people watch.
 It was interesting to come to your own conclusions about people with only a snapshot of their lives like this, and it makes you wonder how people must be perceiving you and Eddie together. Are people assuming the two of you are dating? You couldn’t blame people for thinking that, but what else were they thinking about you? Do the two of you even look good together?
“Look mommy! What is that?”
The voice of a little boy catches your attention. A small pointed finger in your general direction makes you feel uneasy as you automatically assume the child must be pointing at Eddie. Sure, a man in a wheelchair has the potential to puzzle a child, but you didn’t know how Eddie would react to this kind of attention in a raw, childlike form.
“That’s called a mistletoe, dear,” the stressed mother answers, eyes looking your direction for a brief moment. Except, you notice her gaze lands just above you, prompting you to tilt your head back. And you’d be damned to find a small mistletoe handing from a thin string from the ceiling tile above you. 
“Huh,” you hear Eddie say next to you. The sudden realization that the mistletoe is hanging above yours and Eddie’s head has heat rising to your cheeks. You keep your head locked while your eyes shift to look at Eddie out of your peripheral. 
Sure enough he was looking at it, too. 
“Didn’t see that there before.” The words spill from your mouth without much forethought. Eddie clears his throat, and you steal another quick glance at him. His cheeks have an ever so slight pink tint to them, which only makes your stomach do flips.
Eddie has play flirted and said his fair share of raunchy jokes with you in the recent weeks. Never really giving as much of a hint of embarrassment in his actions, you assumed that he felt comfortable enough with your…friendship? That he didn’t care to treat you like one of his boys.
Given your newly realized feelings, it’s admittedly stung a bit. However, the reaction he’s giving now at being caught under a mistletoe with you is only fueling any delusions that you’ve ever entertained between the two of you.
“Me—me either,” he stutters, his eyes shifting down to the floor tiles beneath him. His bashfulness drives you crazy, and you have the sudden intrusive thought to just kiss him. And you almost consider it, if it wasn’t for the potential awkwardness that would result from your potential misreading of the moment.
“Have-have you, um, ever…you know?” Eddie chokes on almost every word, leg bouncing against the pedal as he speaks.
“I’m sorry, have I ever—?”
“Ever kissed. Like, under the mistletoe or whatever.” Eddie clarifies, gesturing to the decoration while still avoiding eye contact.
“O-oh, um,” you think for a moment of every kiss you’ve ever had in your life and suddenly blanking. “Maybe once or twice. In, like, middle school or high school. What about you?”
Eddie shifts in his chair, “No, no, it’s…I’ve not before. Not that I wouldn’t,” Eddie looks at you, then turns away again. “I mean, I’ve never been under one with someone before.”
“Do you want one?”
Eddie stills, blinking slowly as he processes your words.
“Do I want a kiss?”
You nod.
“I mean I guess I wouldn’t be against—”
Eddie is quieted by the sudden contact. You press your lips against his cheek, landing on the edge of the large scar. It’s only for a moment, but it feels like a lifetime to Eddie. 
When you pull away, you do your best to maintain composure. Giving him a forced smile, you rise from your seat to look at him straight on.
“There you go,” you say, hands landing on your hips. “Now you can say you’ve had your first mistletoe kiss.”
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“Eddie, Eddie, shhh it’s okay.”
Pulling him into you, you run a hand up and down his back soothingly in an attempt to calm Eddie’s still sleeping form. Screams of terror begin to fade out into small moans and whimpers the more you comfort him. 
Slowly he wakes, his arms wrapping around you as he begins to sob. You don’t ask him about his dreams, or rather, his nightmares. You’re sure that it would only make things worse, so you just let him cry himself back to sleep against you.
“—Oh, shit, sorry.”
Your eyes shoot open at the sound of Wayne’s voice. You hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep, still leaning against the head of Eddie’s bed as he snored in your lap.
“No, it’s okay,” you whisper yawn, gently lifting Eddie’s head until you could place a pillow under it. Tiptoeing out of Eddie’s room, you join Wayne in the hallway, who looks like he just got home.
“Sorry if I woke ya,” Wayne says in a low voice.
“It’s okay, really,” you say rubbing your eyes. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. He had another night terror so I was just trying to settle him down s'all.”
Wayne hums, a hint of disbelief in his tone. You thought about pressing the matter, but figured doubling down would only push Wayne into believing whatever he already convinced himself more. Besides, getting a couple more hours of sleep before the weekend officially started sounded like something you wanted to take advantage of.
When you did finally wake up, you did your normal Saturday morning routine before your morning shift at the coffee shop. After getting dressed, you place a full glass of water and a little cup full of his morning meds on Eddie’s nightstand and pull out a fresh pair of clothes for him to put on after he wakes up. As you go to leave, you glance over to the newly wrapped gifts that sit below the Munson’s Charlie Brown inspired Christmas tree and think about how you wish you had seen Wayne’s face when he saw them earlier. 
Your work day flew by. The nonstop in and out of shoppers getting their morning caffeine fix or their afternoon refill kept you constantly moving. And before you knew it, you were grabbing your own cup to go and heading out the door to trek the the almost 3 hour drive from work to your home town.
Once you made it to Anderson, you stopped by a local flower shop, one that you’d been going to since you were a kid, to pick out some nice flowers to leave at the graves of your parents and grandparents. The owner made some small talk with you, asking about school and how Tonya was doing.
The mentioning of your friend reminded you that you still needed to give her the gift you’d gotten her before she left to visit Charles' family for the holiday. You were thankful that the Munson’s asked you to join them Christmas day, otherwise you’d be spending the holiday by yourself for the first time in your life.
With your flowers in hand, you placed each bundle at the graves. You spent a good amount of time with each one, talking with the markers as if your loved ones were there and listening. You’re not sure how long you were there. But eventually the cold became too much and you had to leave. 
Driving out of the cemetery was always really hard. Your parents had been gone long enough now that you’d come to peace with them being gone. It still hurt, but didn’t feel as much like salt in a wound as your grandparents. But, the deep sadness you normally felt was lighter than usual. The thought of your next destination—back to the same mall you had spent the evening with Eddie in—made you feel like you had a purpose for the first time in a long while.
You’re sure he hadn’t noticed, but you had kept your eye on Eddie as he shopped around. Anything he took interest in as the two of you perused the mall you took note of, fully planning on returning to pick out some to gift him. You doubt that he go you anything, but that didn’t really matter to you. You wanted to get him things he wanted, knowing he wasn’t going to spend the money on himself.
“What’s W.A.S.P?” Tonya mumbles through a mouth full of sugar cookie as she flips a cassette case in her hand. Her eyes go wide as she reads the track titles on the back.
“They’re a metal band,” you say, grabbing it from her and centering it the middle of your wrapping paper. “Jeff gave Eddie a shirt of theirs, so I’m guessing he must like them.” 
“Girl, one of those tracks was called Ballcrusher,” she says with a concerned look that made you laugh.
“Hey, I’m not here to judge,” you shrug, wrapping the cassette nicely and laying it next to a few more that were already wrapped. “It’s cooler than the ovenmits you got Charles.”
“Excuse you, he asked for new mits.” Tonya points her half eaten cookie at you before taking another bite. “And I think they fit his personality very well.”
“They’re plain beige,” you say monotonally.
“Exactly,” Tonya nods with a smile. “Plain and beige, and safe.”
You tsk and roll your eyes, mumbling a little whatever as you organize your gifts. Some might say you went a little overboard for someone who you’ve only been taking care of for just shy of 5 months. But, it was hard to narrow anything down when you envisioned Eddie’s face as he opened all of his new possessions. It was enough to justify the…8…9…11 things you got for him. 
“Can I tell you something…”
You look over at Tonya, who seems to be unable to contain a smile as she waits for you to answer.
“Of course,” you say, turning to give her your full attention.
“Okay, so, I know it’s the holiday season or whatever, and I could totally be wrong. But…”
“But?”
“But…” She takes a deep breath in. “...I think Charlie is going to propose to me at his family’s Christmas.”
You shoot up straight in your chair. A few months ago you might not have been so keen on this speculation, but the last few months Charles seems to have loosened up a bit. You also stopped caring about him taking your parking spot considering you were hardly here much anyway between school, work, and being at the Munson’s. 
“Oh my god. What? Why do you think that?”
“So, we went and did some Christmas shopping at that new outlet mall the other day. And while I was in the bathroom, he thought he would be slick and went into a jewelry shop. When I came out I saw him through the window and I’m, like, 99 percent positive he was looking at rings!”
The two of you gush and squeal over the prospect of Tonya’s future nuptials. Talks of colours and styles of dresses fill the room as the two of you talk for hours. 
“You know,” Tonya starts from the other side of the shower curtain, “Even if you are the maid of honor, I’m putting my foot down about one thing.”
“Oh, yeah,” you ask before spitting out your tooth paste into the sink, “And what might that be?”
“If you plan on bringing Eddie as a plus one, I have to at least meet him once before the actual wedding.”
You feel your cheeks heating up a bit. “I…I don’t see why that couldn’t be arranged—”
“Ideally, I’d also like the two of you to have confessed your love for each other by then, too—”
“Stoooooooop, you don’t know that he’s in love with me. This could be totally one sided.”
“Or,” Tonya pokes her head out from the curtain, “he could be completely head over heals for you and one of you just needs to make a move already.”
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“What the—do you need help?” Dustin moves towards you to help with the balancing act of carrying all your presents into the Munson house. He grabs a few gifts and ushers you inside. 
“Thanks Dustin,” you say, heading towards the Christmas tree that is filled even more so now than it was when you left Saturday morning. “It’s starting to look like Santa wont have any room to bring presents.”
“We’re going to take care of most of that tonight,” Jeff says with a smile as he pushes Eddie’s chair into the living room. 
 Eddie looked very handsome tonight in his red sweater and black slacks. It even looked like he took his time to properly do his hair today. You loved when Eddie would let you get his curls looking just right with a little product and styling.
“Hey,” he waved to you, more reserved than his normal goofy self.
“Well, hey there hot stuff. You look really nice tonight,” you say, leaning in to give him a hug. He went rigid for a moment before melting into the embrace. 
“About time you got here,” Mike calls from the kitchen, causing you to jump back. “You better hurry up and get some of this pizza before Gareth freaking eats it all.”
“Dude, I’m hungry!” Gareth shouts defensively. Will puts a hand on his shoulder to comfort him as everyone laughs them off.
“Where’s your friend,” you ask the room, scanning it for a new face. The boys said they had convinced their friend Lucas to finally come to a Hellfire meeting after several long months.
“He should be here soon,” Dustin says in an overly reassuring way.
“Yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it,” Mike scoffs.
“You were there, dude. He said he would come.”
“He said he would think about it. Never said he was gonna show up for sure.”
“If Sinclair shows up, we’ll greet him with open arms,” Eddie speaks up, “And if he doesn’t…well,” the room stills,”...there will always be other Hellfire Club meetings.”
Before the game begins, the boys take turns passing around gifts to each other. You’ve never seen so many sets of colourful dice in your entire life, but they all seemed very excited to receive them. Eddie was given a few band shirts and some cool looking records as well. He was so grateful for each gift he was given, a constant roll of thanks coming from him.
For a moment, you thought he might be getting overwhelmed when you saw a him wipe away a tear. You rest your hand on his arm, but he waves you off and reassures that he’s just really, really happy. It made your heart feel full to see him in such a good place. The amount of growth he’s done in such a short time never ceases to amaze you.
Eventually the game started rolling. You took the opportunity to clean up the mess of wrapping paper that was littered across the living room. The boys tried to get you to join them, but you told them that you wouldn’t be as fun to play with since you’d ask so many questions.
But Eddie still managed to keep you returning to the table. A few beers deep, he decided to skip his nighttime pain med. This led to his hands starting to ache (allegedly), which meant he needed you to roll his dice for him. Even if you knew it was just his way of getting you to hang out and avoid the pile of laundry that was staring you down, you let him have his fun and played along.
“Another 20!” You shout, jumping up and down. Eddie laughs manically while the rest of the table groans and protests.
“Maybe it’s a good thing she didn’t play with us,” Dustin says shaking his head. You stick your tongue out at him and he makes a face back at you.
But the feeling of something touching your back pulls you from the playful banter. Looking around, you realize Eddie has his hand resting on your lower back, rubbing small circles there as he refocuses on the game. It’s not an unwelcome touch by any means, but it does feel very intimate all things considered. 
And it’s only made worse as his hand moves completely across your back, not stopping to trace back and almost hooking you around the waist. He pulls you closer to him until your bodies are flush, besides where the wheelchair separates you. His head rests against you, all of his attention on the game, making the action feel like a subconscious move. 
You weren’t going to make a scene about it, so you instead embrace the affection and let your hand rest on his opposite shoulder. From the corner of your eye you see the smile on his face grow until his dimples are on full display.
At the end of the night, the boys made their exit, leaving the pizza and drinks for you and Eddie to indulge in for the next day. Lucas never showed, but Dustin and Mike seemed determined to make him come out soon.
Once the boys were loaded up and down the drive way, you went straight to the sink to get to work on the dishes. But, before you could get passed the threshold of the kitchen, Eddie gently grabbed your wrist to still you.
“What’s wrong Edward?” You tease. His flush cheeks told you that he let himself go a little more than usually when he drinks.
“Shhhh don’t say my name like that,” he says with a slur of his words.
“Why not? It’s you’re name isn’t it?”
“Makes me feel like I’m in trouble or something.”
“Oh, do you feel guilty about something?”
You didn’t think that your words would hit any chords with Eddie. But the silly outward expression suddenly turned into one of shock. The air shifted in a spit second and you were instantly on damage control.
“What’s wrong?” You ask, fully facing him. Eddie looked like he was on the verge of tears, eyes getting glassier by the second. His body moves as a sob escapes from him, and any resolve Eddie had was gone as he lets everything go.
You crouch in front of him, hands on his shoulders as he begins to wail, body shaking as he lets everything out.
“H-he didn’t--did’t-didn’t show--show up because of me!” The shaky words come out, and you instantly realize the error of your wording.
You pull him into you, letting him cry into your shoulder as you pet his hair, holding him tightly to comfort him
“Shhh, Eddie, nooo,” you speak low next to his ear. “You’re not to blame for what happened. You were a victim, too, Eddie. There isn’t anything you could have done—”
“If I had just died—if Dustin had just left me there instead of finding Steve and Robin…They-they—” 
Eddie starts to hyperventilate. His head lifts from your shoulder as he struggled to get his breath. You jump to your feet and run to the kitchen to grab a paper bag that had been left from the gas station beers. You run back to him and instruct him to breath into it, coaching him to imitate you as you demonstrate taking deep breaths.
After a few minutes, Eddie is able to somewhat calm himself down. Tears still rolling down his cheeks, he leans back into his chair, running his hands over his face and through his hair. You can tell he’s avoiding looking at you. But you’re not sure if its out of shame or if he’ upset with you.
“Eddie?” You ask quietly. He flinches, but slowly lowers his head until he’s facing you, his eyes looking downwards rather than at you. But it’s good enough for you.
“Eddie, I’m sorry—”
“Don’t.” His voice is still wobbly, eyes closing again as he breathes in.
“No, Eddie, you need to listen to me. Okay?”
Eddie looks at you, almost through you, but you take the silence as the signal to continue.
“Eddie…I know it might be hard to understand. But…whatever happened back in March…it’s not your fault.” His eyes shift and he starts to blink rapidly, but he doesn’t speak. “I can understand why you think that your friend is mad at you, but I think you know he’s not. He’s just worried about your other friend, Max. And whatever happened to Max…you didn’t force that monster to do that to her. Nor did you make him hurt the other victims.”
Eddie takes in a sharp breath, coming out haggard as you can tell he’s trying to hold back from crying again.
“And whatever happened to you…” You take his hands in yours, looking at the scared skin that decorates it. You let your hands fall against his thighs, just above where his leg is amputated. “Was not your fault.”
“You’ll never understand,” he says suddenly, catching you off guard. “You don’t know what actually happened.”
“Then, tell me Eddie. Help me understand.”
Eddie’s eyes scan your face. Then his head shakes, his curls whipping around as he does.
“I can’t. Even if I wanted to I…I just can’t.”
You nod, “And that’s okay. You don’t have to tell me. Because I don’t think my mind would change even if I did know.”
“Can I go outside?” He asks, pulling his hands from yours.
“Sure,” you say with a smile. “Maybe we can get you showered and ready for bed after?”
“Yeah, okay,” he says, pushing himself to the door. 
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“Just hand me the lighter, asshole.”
Gareth’s hand reaches across the coffee table impatiently for Eddie to hand him the bright red lighter after the joint they were passing around had gone out.
“Nope, only people who tell the truth get to use my lighter,” Eddie says holding the lighter to his chest.
“Eddie, don’t press him. He doesn’t want to talk about it,” you say, taking a sip from your concoction of a drink that Grant’s girlfriend, Tina, made for you. You lean into him so that only he could hear you. “How would you feel if someone was pestering Wayne about Ben like that?”
That seemed to shut Eddie up. He finally tossed the lighter to Gareth, who wasted no time in lighting the joint back up.
“So, how did Christmas at the Munson’s go?” Jeff asks, plopping down on the couch next to Eddie, handing him another beer.
“It was, and I am not exaggerating,” Eddie starts with a slight slur of his words, “probably the best Christmas I’ve ever had. Like, this one right here?” He points his thumb to you. “I didn’t think I’d ever know what it feels like to be spoiled, but that’s definitely how she treated me.”
“Wait a second,” you scoff, “I did not spoil you. I just found some things that I thought you’d like and figured I’d get them for you.” You shrug, giving Tina, Grant's girlfriend, a look of feigned innocence as you turned to face her. The two of you had been doing quite a bit of chatting since you arrived, instantly clicking as you two seemed to have a lot in common.
She did ask you how long you and Eddie had been together, however. And you had to awkwardly explain that you were just his caregiver. It made you wonder what Grant had to be telling her about you and Eddie for her to think that the two of you were together.
“Did you get her anything?” Grant asks, nodding to you.
“Of course,” Eddie says with faux offense. “I bought her some of the lotion that she keeps in her bag, some of her favorite snacks, a copy of her favorite movie that she said she lost when she moved, and a study book for school.”
“You also got me a whole box full of snacks,” you say, nudging him.
“That was just because you are constantly talking about how you wish you had this or that when we’re watching a movie or something,”
“Are you sure you are not dating?” Tina leans in and asks you with genuine curiosity.
The guys laugh, but you reassure her that you’re not.
“When you spend as much time together as we do, you tend to pick up on each other’s interests. I’m sure you and Grant are the same way.”
“We are,” she says with an enthusiastic nod, “Because we are dating.”
“Shh, hey, the ball is gonna drop!”
The small TV in Grant’s living room shows that only 15 seconds remain until the ball is about to drop. You move closer to Eddie to see the TV better, and he wraps an arm around your shoulder to pull you into him. 
Everyone’s eyes are on the TV as the countdown begins. As the numbers go down, you rapidly reflect on 1986. 
The beginning half of the year seemed uneventful compared to the latter in the grand scheme of things. You recall all the highs and lows that you and Eddie have been in together since you first met, when you realized that what you were feeling was more than it should ever be and how you’ll likely never get the chance to do so. 
But you also reflect on the wonderful new friends that you’ve made, including Wayne, who you hoped was having a good night with Ben. And the younger boys, who said they were going to the hospital to spend the new year with Lucas and Max. 
Only a few seconds remain, so you turn to face Eddie, whose eyes were still on the small screen. An idea came across your mind. You pucker your lips, gearing up to plant a fat kiss on his cheek once the ball dropped. You were sure we would be embarrassed getting a cheek kiss in front of his friends, but doubted he could keep a grudge long. 
As the room cheered at the end of the countdown, you closed your eyes and leaned in. 
But you instantly knew something was off once your lips made contact. Instead of the textured skin you were expecting, you felt softness against your lips. 
And when you opened your eyes, you were met with chocolate brown ones looking right back at you. Eyebrows raised into bewilderment, it took you a few seconds to process what was happening. 
Then it hits you. 
You were kissing Eddie. And he wasn't stopping you.
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thank you for reading!
a/n: hello! I wanted to make all of the readers of this series aware that I have decided to change up the direction I’m going with it. I feel like I’m straying away from some important elements and I want to try and regroup starting from part 6 and onwards. I plan on keeping some plot points I previously had planned, but they may just be executed differently than I intended. I dont believe the changes will have an affect on the story so far, but still felt that I should mention it.
Again, thank you all for being patient with me and I hope to have the next part out here sooner than later <3
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yizmiu · 1 day
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i’m not sure if you do requests but i was wondering if i could request enhypen boyfriend sunghoon fic where sunghoon goes from not caring at all for cats to becoming the proudest cat dad you could ever imagine when his girlfriend brings home a cat out of no where.
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ི꒰͡ ໋. kitty-incident!
𓏸 ͘ ࣭⸰ ‎inwhich. sunghoon doesn’t understand his girlfriends love for cats but after she suddenly brought one home he’s kind of forced too…
𓏸 ͘ ࣭⸰ ‎࣪genre. fluff, sunghoon x f!reader, dog person sunghoon, cat person reader
𓏸 ͘ ࣭⸰ ‎word count. 1k+
ᯇ ೀ jayjay’s note; hiii so sorry for the long wait, i was having trouble finding out on how i should write this! it’s a mix of smau and a drabble!
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Sunghoon sighed, staring at the little kitten on the floor next to his feet. Y/n, his girlfriend had impulsively bought the kitten home from a shelter without even telling him she was doing so. It’s not like Sunghoon hated cats, he was just more of a dog person.
Now, he was just told he had to watch the kitten for a couple hours. “You’re cute, but I’m still mad at you for scratching our couches. I can’t believe your mom just showed up with you and didn’t tell me.” Sunghoon glared at the cat as he spoke.
The kitten, named Yureum (chosen by the both of them) could sense Sunghoon’s passive aggressive energy from the day he entered the house. Since then he’s been acting like a little asshole to him, tearing up the furniture, knocking down Sunghoon’s things, and walking over the keyboard while he was trying to work.
Sunghoon rarely pet his ‘child’ because Yureum always made sure to nip and scratch at him out of spite. So when he suddenly started purring and rubbing against Sunghoon’s leg he was surprised.
Sunghoon figured he needed more attention, and he started to feel bad so he shut his laptop, taking a break from his work to sit on the couch with Yureum following behind.
“C’mon” Sunghoon said as he picked the kitten up with both hands, placing him on his lap. “You’re so cute, if only you weren’t a little jerk to me.” Sunghoon sighed as he gently caressed him.
Sunghoon yawned as he placed Yureum next to his head as he laid down, getting sleepy. “I’m gonna take a little nap, your mom should be home in 15 minutes.” He said as his voice started to slur.
Yureum stared at the sleeping figure in front of him for a little, a little tired himself so he snuggled up against his owner. Fitting perfectly in the gap between his chest and arms.
Sunghoon heard flashes and clicks as he began to wake up from his sleep, opening his eyes to see his girlfriend taking photos of him. “What are you doing?” He said groggily. “Look! You and Yureum.” Y/n shoved the phone in her boyfriend's face.
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“Y/n—Achoo!” Sunghoon cut himself off with a sneeze. “Are you okay, baby? You’ve been sneezing a lot.” Y/n asks in concern as she hands her boyfriend a tissue.
“What if I've developed an allergy to cats? Yureum has been clingy to me recently, what if the little shit got me sick.” Sunghoon suggested. “I know you don’t like him much but what kind of excuse is that? I mean it could be possible though…” Y/n lost the train of thought thinking about the possibility. “He just loves you a lot, he cuddles with you a night more than me.” She pouted as she crossed her arms against her chest.
“I kind of wish he didn’t…I just have been getting itchy around him a lot.”
“I can make an appointment for you later today, just take some of my allergy pills and you’ll be okay.” Y/n said as she walked over to the kitchen to fetch her allergy pills. She herself was allergic to cats but she didn’t mind.
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Turns out, Sunghoon really was allergic to cats. He tried to keep his distance after learning so. He doesn’t know how Y/n deals with it.
But It was hard when the damn cat was always by Sunghoon’s side. When he was sleeping, when he was working, hell even when he was in the bathroom. He followed him everywhere.
“Yureum! Seriously, I’m just getting up to get water.” Sunghoon groaned as the cat purposefully stuck himself to his owner by digging his claws into Sunghoon’s knitted sweater. “Don’t follow me.” He said firmly, placing the cat down after detaching it from him.
Yureum sat and stared at his owner as he walked away, deciding to ignore his wishes and follow him anyway.
“Oh my god! Yureum, I almost stepped on you.” Hoon complained as he looked at the cat that was now by his feet. “You have food and water, I was just petting you, what more could you want?” Hoon asked the cat. He looked crazy right now, he’s talking to a cat.
Yureum’s head slightly turned to the right. Taking little steps to get to his ankles, purring against them softly.
Sunghoon sighed as he picked his cat up. “God, I’m surprised I’m not dead already.” He carried the cat to the shared bedroom between him and his girlfriend.
“Are we out of allergy pills?” Y/n asked, looking up from her laptop. She was currently working on a project for work and wanted some alone time.
“Almost. I’m tired and I can tell Yureum is too.” He set the cat down before he laid himself on the bed next to Y/n. “He keeps following me everywhere, I don’t know why. He’s your cat. I’m more like his babysitter.” He sighed.
Y/n gasps. “He is our son…and it’s because he likes you, Hoon. More than me actually…it’s kind of surprising.” Y/n shrugged her shoulders, “See.” She pointed out as the cat was currently cuddling up to Sunghoon and not her.
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“Hoon! I know you’ve been tired a lot recently and you’ve been wanting a break from Yureum so I got someone else to watch him! You can go and hang with the guys tonight.” Y/n said as soon as she wrapped her arms around his waist.
Sunghoon spit out the toothpaste in his mouth into the sink. “Who is it?” He asked as he put his toothbrush away. Y/n unwrapped her arms, grabbing the hairbrush on the bathroom counter. “It’s one of my coworkers, he said he loves cats and he has a day off today so he agreed to watch him.” She gently brushed her hair as she looked at the man in the mirror.
“Yes, but who?” Sunghoon’s eyebrows slightly furrowed. “Doyoon.” Y/n said hesitantly.
Sunghoon’s eyes slightly lit up, he knew he was the said coworker. “Actually, the guys aren’t going out today. I can watch Yureum.” He said nonchalantly.
Even though Sunghoon could use his day off to hang with his friends he still decided to look after their cat every single saturday. Purely because he doesn’t want Kim Doyoon, who has a massive crush on his girl, to look after their cat. In bold their cat.
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enhypen m.list — enhypen taglist (open) : @yenqa
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h2llish · 2 days
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i've been following your blog for a while and absolutely adore your writing!
if its okay i'd love to see something with either leona or jamil (up to you!) and a reader who falls asleep on their shoulder during some sort of nrc road trip.. i'm not sure if nrc would have buses per say considering all the magic and stuff but the concept of an nrc school trip seems super interesting to me so if you're up for the request by all means just have fun with it!! i do notice that your requests are semi open so feel free to decline ofc !
— ☁️
⁀➷ ˖ ROAD TRIP DROWSINESS
notes ─── hi anon! i’m so happy you like my writing! i don't think they'd have buses at nrc because of the mirror, but crowley would probably spring a sudden road trip on them which would just confuse the students, because why? (i also imagine their bus would probably be a bit fancier? idk how to explain it but nothing like the busses i'm used to.)
LEONA KINGSCHOLAR ─── a wave of drowsiness leads you to find comfort on his shoulder ♡ fluff, gender neutral, can be read platonic or romantic, not proofread
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transportation for students at nrc was not hard, all they had to do was enter the dark mirror and then they found themselves safely at their destination. so if it was that easy, why in the world was the headmage so adamant that they boarded this bus like they were kids back in middle school? ─ a road trip was his very (might many students say stupid) answer.
the only person who seemed to not have a problem with this sudden turn of events, was the magicless prefect from ramshackle. you didn't give any complaints or groan about using the easy way to get to the destination. you just nodded when the headmage announced the decision.
students were chosen at random, names drawn from a hat (a method the headmage seemed to rely on often).  and as the prefect, and the designated scapegoat for everything crowley did, you were of course among that group, with your dire beast other half. 
“i don't get it,” grim frowned, sitting on your shoulder as you approached the bus, where many familiar faces waited to board. “why can't we just use the mirror?”
ace was walking alongside you, being one of the people drawn to join the group. he had decided to met you at ramshackle, knowing you would inevitably have to board the bus as well. “i think the headmage called it some sort of bonding experience. don't know how a hours-long road will be a bonding experience.”
grim grumbled, turning his head to look at your face. you have yet to say anything to add to the conversation. “whaddya’ think, [name]?”
“what?” you blinked, sending a glance to the dire beast before looking ahead of you once more. “what do i think about what?”
“were you even listening to anything we just said?” ace sighed. 
you hummed, “i’ve learned to tune you guys out the moment you start speaking.” ─ and then you were wincing as the two of them shouted, leaning your head away from the monster as he and ace expressed how offended they were.
you sighed, this was going to be a long ride.
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and right you were. 
things were okay (as okay as a group of irritable teenage boys with magic on a bus could be) during the first hour. but as the first hour turned to half, and you found yourself growing drowsy, you attempted to doze off, at least for a good twenty minutes. you were unsuccessful, as the moment you closed your eyes, you were quickly opening them to glance at a yelling grim.
epel and sebek, also being among the names drawn, were sitting next to you. epel and grim looked ready to pounce on an unnamed student who seemed to have picked a fight with them. ace didn't do much to stop the argument, in fact, he was actively encouraging it. and sebek, while he made an attempt to hold back a seething grim, was not of much help either. 
you sighed, but made no move to stop it ─ you expected something to happen eventually, and you weren't all that up to being the “reasonable” one of the group. you aren't sure what the argument was about, but neither did you care. if grim got in trouble for attacking a student, it would come back to bite you, but that was something for future you to worry about.
you glanced around the bus, before your attention landed on the savanaclaw housewarden sitting alone. ─ your friends continued to argue with the random guy, and you were sure they had no intention of ending the argument anytime soon. and you would rather sleep off some time on the road rather than listen to your friends go back and forth with someone you didn't even know the name of. you stood from your seat, uncaring of whether or not it was okay to do so as you approached the empty seat. 
leona had his head down, probably napping, the same thing you wanted to do. when you sat down beside him his ears twitched and he lifted his head to look at you, probably intending to scowl and scare off whoever had been stupid enough to sit beside him, until he realized it was you.
“what are you doing?” he frowned at you, but you went unfazed.
“sitting next to you, obviously.”
leona rolled his eyes, “why?”
instead of giving a verbal answer, you pointed at your friends, where sebek now had a grip on the scruff of grim’s neck, keeping him from jumping at the student. ace was laughing, offering no help to the half-fae. epel was no better than grim, with sebek’s arm held out in front of him, keeping him from doing anything.
"so you came to bother me instead?" he asked, and you looked at him straight-faced.
"yup."
leona sighed, but he didn't tell you to scram (not like you would if he did). he didn't say anything else, only close his eyes again and turning away, likely to try and nap. you weren't offended by his lack of reply, leaning your head back against the seat and trailing your eyes over the bus and your peers.
the longer you sat in somewhat silence ─ save for the incoherent yelling from your friends, you had for the most part zoned out, and the chatter of those on board ─ you found yourself falling to the drowsiness that have been interrupted before. you closed your eyes and let the movement of the bus guide you to sleep.
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leona was awake, annoyed by the bus and those on the bus. his ears twitched when he heard your breathing slow beside him and he lifted his head, just as your head lolled to the side and you leaned against his shoulder.
he sighed, but made no move to push you off, glancing around you at the rest of the students of nrc, who were all either sleeping themselves, or chatting with friends. he leaned his head back, eyeing you as you shifted for a moment before relaxing again.
"where'd [name] go?" leona could hear your friends ask, no longer distracted by the argument that they were having with the random student.
he looked back at them, just in time to catch ace's eye, who was the first to see you sleeping against leona. he looked ready to say something, but leona narrowed his eyes on the first year. ace immediately shut his mouth, grinning awkwardly as he turned back to his friends.
leona huffed, looking back down at you to make sure you didn't stir. he adjusted in more comfortable position, an arm resting behind you on the seat, allowing you to lean closer, and hopefully, be more comfortable than leaning against his shoulder the way you had. and then he closed his eyes and joined you in a nap for the rest of the ride. (at least until they stopped for a break.)
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this wasn't proofread so there will be probably be mistakes, i'll try to come back to edit later!
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do not repost, translate, copy or run my writing through an ai
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I would LOVE to see a TFA!Megatron x human reader of some kind. I love him so much, such an intimidating and scary but fun version of him 🤭 I want it to be in the First Contact AU still, but why not sorta spice things up and make it have soulmates in it? Wouldn't it be cool to have a giant alien warlord from space destroying cities to find their soulmate? 😳🫣 lol if this idea sucks de bout it, but I'm excited to see your works that's transformers g/t related!
- ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ
THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST CHAMELANON! PLEASE ENJOY!!! God I love TFA Megs so much. He's so hot AUGH!
Be Careful What You Wish For
Pairing: TFA Megatron x Human Reader (Soulmate Au)
Word Count: 2961
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Summary: Soulmates exist, and you have one. Proof exists in the form of soulmarks: a red thread-like tattoo imprinted on a person's arm. Only when one meets their soulmate and touches them will the soulmark disappear. Unfortunately, you have yet meet yours. After many lonely days wishing you would be reunited with your Other Half, a chaotic encounter with the leader of the Decepticons has you realizing one thing. And it is that soulmates persevere across time...and space.
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Soulmates are real.
  Since you were a young child, this is what you have been told. Soulmates are real, and every person has one. The special red thread that connects two people twines between the left hand’s fingers, up the arm, snaking under the clavicle and ending directly over the heart. Bright like the blood running through your veins, it is your life force, your compass leading you to your Other Half, with your hand outstretched to touch theirs…and only then will the red thread disappear.
  You’ve spent hours staring at that red line, tracing the pattern it makes on your flesh. It’s been a constant presence throughout your life…and it has never gone away. No matter who you’ve met, who you have fallen in love with, who you have fallen out of love with, it is all the same. The thread remains, and you continue to carry a lonely heart within you.
  “Give it time,” your loved ones tell you. “You’ll find them. It won’t happen in a heartbeat. You need to be patient.”
  Yes, you know. Patience, after all, is a virtue. Plenty go about their lives and never even see their thread go away. An existence without your soulmate can be a perfectly happy one. But you want to know who your Other Half is. You want to be one of the lucky few who can be counted as soulfully complete.
  Sitting in a coffee shop with a hot chocolate cupped between your hands, you find yourself once again observing your thread. The morning is cold; you can feel the wind trying to bite you through the shop’s large glass window. People bundled in their coats, scarves, and gloves hurry by, heads down and minds focused on whatever tasks they have at hand. Looking out, you observe them with a blank stare, not really observing them at all.
  “Anything I can get you right now?” The older woman who owns the shop comes up to you, offering a plate of freshly baked cookies. “Chocolate chip? They’re right out of the oven!”
  You offer her a thin smile and shake your head no. She understands; she’s seen you forlornly watching couples pass by. Sighing, she sets down the plate. “You know,” she says. “I didn’t meet my soulmate until I was in my early 40’s.”
  You raise an eyebrow. She sees your surprise and chuckles. “I know, right? A little late to be meeting my Other Half. But hey, it happened. And now look at me! I’m living a good life, running a successful business, and I got to see my thread go away. Those are all things I never thought I’d get to experience. All I had to do was wait a little!”
  You cringe. Yes, waiting. It seems all you’ve been doing is waiting, waiting, waiting, all for a soulmate who might never come. You and your damn waiting.
  She notices your mood go sour and sighs again. “Listen, all I’m trying to say is that you shouldn’t lose hope. You’ll meet your soulmate. I know you’ve probably heard this before, but…you need to give the world time to sort things into order. That’s all you really can do when you're dealing with the threads of fate.”
  You mumble a quiet “Thank you” and try to look appreciative, when you feel anything such. She says no more, but leaves you a cookie before heading off to tend to the other customers. You watch her go, then lift up your left hand. Your thread is vibrantly bright, showing no signs of fading any time soon.
  Yeah, you think sadly while you bite into the cookie. No hope lost whatsoever.
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  You are walking out of the shop when it happens. The door’s little chimes clink together as you swing it open and bid the owner farewell. And then, a pain unlike any other hits you with the force of a freight train. It tackles you and makes you stagger, knees buckling and bringing you to the ground in a matter of seconds. Your heart starts slamming against your ribcage so hard you think a bone might crack. Pushing your hand against your chest, you pant and watch your vision swim as you attempt to get to your feet, yet fail and fall down once more.
  Multiple people help you up, each one asking if you are alright. You hold out a shaking hand as if to assure them, but no sound comes out of your mouth when you try to speak.
  Someone says, “Call an ambulance!” You want to tell them you are fine; unfortunately, you can’t seem to form any coherent words. All that rises up from your throat is a thin, wispy whimper.
  The chaos continues when out of nowhere, an explosion erupts further down the street. People scream and scramble back. The people holding you let go, and you nearly topple right over again. Shouts of panic and confusion fill the air, confirming that no one has a clue as to what is going on.
  Two dark shapes scream through the sky. You look up just in time to see a fighter jet fly past with a bomber plane following behind. For a moment, you think this is some sort of military aerial show-why such a thing would be happening in the middle of winter, you don’t know-but it’s the only conclusive argument you can decide on what you are seeing.
  But then the two planes start descending. They roar over the crowded street, then begin morphing and shaping themselves into creatures completely different from the disguises they previously sported. You recognize them: they are Cybertronians. Robots from outer space who have become borderline celebrities in Detroit since arriving here months earlier. These two, however, aren’t members of the heroic Autobots who help protect the city. They are Decepticons. The villains, the destroyers. The bad ones.
  The smaller of the two stretches his arms over his head. He laughs maniacally as he watches people run. “Look at them, Lugnut! They’re scurrying away like little ants!”
  The other Deception growls and pays no mind to his partner. “Silence, Blitzwing. Lord Megatron has a mission for us to complete. We must distract the humans while he finds the one he is looking for.”
  Blitzwing’s face swivels and changes into an icy blue expression. He surveys the humans around him with an air of disgust. “I don’t understand why Lord Megatron cares to capture one of these creatures. They are far too weak to be kept as pets.”
  “It is not my place to question him, nor is it yours. We are here to do as we are told and give our lord the time he needs to complete his mission.” Lugnut grabs a car and throws it into the air. It crashes down with a heavy slam, windows shattering, metal crumpling, alarm screeching out the vehicle’s pain. You watch in horror, unable to fathom that you have a front row seat to this show of destruction Detroit is about to face.
  Yeah, no, you think. I’m not sticking around. These Decepticons obviously have no regard for human lives. If you remain here, there is a high chance you will end up dead. You need to run, now.
  “You're not going anywhere, little one.”
  The voice is deep, and it pulses through your mind like a gong. You clutch your head and bite back a shout of pain. A strange feeling builds up in your chest. It makes your heart beat faster, and your thread begins to burn with an uncomfortable warmth you have never felt before.
  A third vehicle appears from the sky: a strange helicopter with two blades and a massive cannon mounted beneath its cockpit. Your hair whips back when it lands. The Cybertronian’s body condenses and rises, metal folding over metal, creating a gigantic figure with narrowed red eyes that immediately land on you the moment they open. Your jaw drops; this is easily the biggest mech you have ever seen. And you recognize him. Megatron, the feared leader of the Decepticon forces, and the worst bot you could run into right now.
    Lugnut drops to his knees and bows. “I serve you, Lord Megatron!”
  Megatron does not acknowledge him. He remains focused on you. You are finding it hard to breathe.
  Blitzwing walks over to the taller mech. “My lord, the Autobots will be arriving soon. What should we do?”
  “Continue destroying what you can.” Megatron’s voice is a deep rumble of thunder. You feel the wind get knocked out of you when you hear it. His voice. His voice. Why are you so focused on his voice?
  Your thread is beginning to burn. You slap your hand over your left arm and squeeze, hissing through your teeth. Megatron notices; he looks intrigued.
  “Have you found what you are looking for, master?” Lugnut asks.
  “Indeed I have,” Megatron replies. “And I don’t intend to let it escape me. Resume your orders. Keep the Autobots back for as long as you can. Once I have what we came here for, I will sound the retreat.”
  Blitzwing and Lugnut do not question him any further. You, on the other hand, are questioning everything. Why is this robot having such an effect on you? Why can you hear his voice in your head? And why, why is your soulmark on fire?!
  He’s here for me. There’s no solid confirmation that has been given to you about this, but you know deep down it is true.
  He’s looking right at me.
  Shit. Fuck.
  Your legs want to move. But your brain forbids it and forces you to remain put, even as other people go running by you, their screams mingling as one high-pitched wail while Blitzwing and Lugnut destroy anything they can get their hands on.
  Megatron remains still. He tilts his head with the air of a curious predator who is searching out the weak spots of his prey. You cannot drop eye contact with him. Something about his piercing gaze has you rooted to the spot in which you stand.
  Only when he begins lumbering towards you do you snap out of it and run with the rest.
  Everything is a blur for you. You nearly get shoved to the ground multiple times by the panicked masses who are fleeing. It feels like Detroit is crashing down. Police drones are flying in to fight back against the Decepticons, but you don’t think for a second they’ll do any damage against them. After all, they hardly ever do.
  “Don’t run from me, little one.”
  There is pain. So much pain. It is too much for you to handle. It causes you to collapse, clutching your head and writhing in agony.
  “You are so much more fascinating than the rest of your pathetic kind.”
  The ground trembles. Each step signals the robot drawing closer and closer.
  “Why can I feel what you feel? Why does my spark tremble with your fear? I don’t understand it. I need to understand it. So stop running, and come here.”
  You need to keep going. Grunting, you struggle to your feet and stumble forward in a haphazard fashion. You don’t even bother looking back to see if the robot is close. You just need to run. You need to hide.
  Your miracle appears in the form of a parking garage. Squirming under the partially closed grated gate, you find that it is abandoned; no one is in here with you, and the cars are all empty, abandoned by their owners. You retreat into a corner dark and covered with shadows. It should provide you with the necessary cover you need in order to hide.
  You remain in there for what feels like hours.  It goes awfully quiet outside. Any remaining civilians are long gone. Somewhere close, you think you hear the sound of mechs duking it out. Your breathing echoes off of the parking garage’s walls, giving you a further sensation of complete unease. Perhaps hiding in here wasn’t the best choice. Maybe you should have continued running with other people to a safer spot. Allowing others to be in your presence would endanger them…but now you are alone, completely defenseless to those who wish you harm. The robot who is currently stalking you can kill you without even thinking about it. By hoping to protect the city, you may have ensured your own doom.
  You hear stomping outside. Too loud to be human, too heavy to be an Autobot. Your heart tugs eagerly on its strings in an attempt to break free. It’s a mutual sensation of utter fear and strange wanting.
  “Where are you?”
  You see the massive head of the mech appear right underneath the gate. A shriek nearly escapes you, and you have to slap your hands over your mouth to quell it. A single roving red eye searches the garage, unblinking.
  “I am not known for my patience, human. If you do not show yourself, I cannot guarantee things will end up well for you.”
  The eye settles on you. It narrows and a low growl emits from the robot’s intake. “There you are.”
  You have no chance to react before Megatron’s hand smashes through the gate. You scream when his fingers curl around you. Tightly pressed against his palm, you struggle and kick your feet while Megatron slowly draws you out into the open.
  “Let me go!” you shriek. “Stop! Please!”
  Megatron growls again and gives you a warning squeeze. “Fighting me will get you nowhere. Cease this at once, or suffer the consequences.”
  Well, that’s threatening. You immediately go limp and snap your mouth shut. Megatron snorts, satisfied. He brings you closer to his face, studying you. You shrink back, flush with panic and terror.
  “What is your name, human?” he rumbles.
  You stutter out a barely coherent reply. “Y-Y-Y/N.”
  “Y/N.” He repeats it to himself. “Y/N…a fitting name. Tell me, have we ever met before?”
  “I…I d-don’t believe so?” you say.
  “Hm.” He regards you, turning his hand left and right so he can examine you from all angles. “How very interesting.”
  “W-What’s interesting?”
  “Your mark.” He pushes his thumb under your left forearm. “It’s gone.”
  You follow his gaze. Indeed, where your thread should have been-the thread that has been with you for your entire life, a presence in which you believed would never leave you-there is only bare skin. There isn’t a speck of red to be seen. The burning that accompanied it before is gone too, and now there is a sort of settlement weighing on your chest. It is an instinctive rush of fulfillment, like this was meant to happen.
  You feel faint. Nothing makes sense anymore when you look back at the robot. “You…You're my soulmate?” you squeak.
  “Soulmate.” Megatron stretches the word out into a slow drawl. “So that’s what your species calls it. Yes, you can say that. My kind has a similar phenomenon that affects us.” He opens his mouth and breathes in deeply. “You smell of fear. I can see in your eyes that you know me. So this city is aware of who I am, hm?”
  You don’t dare answer. You're way too terrified of how close his massive teeth are to you. You don’t want to think about what might happen if you find yourself between them.
  “There is no need to be afraid of me. Our sparks are linked. I would be killing a piece of myself if I were to eliminate you.” He sighs. “As disappointed as I am to discover that my sparkmate is a human, I can learn to work with it. I wish to know more about you, Y/N. I will know why fate tied us.”
  “I need to know more.”
  “What makes you so different?”
  “Foolish little thing, you cannot get away from me.”
  “I will get to the bottom of this.”
  His thoughts are loud and overwhelming. You shake your head and feel tears gather in your eyes. “Please…It’s too much. Your thoughts-”
  “Ah. Is that primitive brain of your overloading? I can hear it. Don’t think your thoughts aren’t in my head as well.” He rises to his full height. “I am sure we will both learn to get used to it. If not, I will have Shockwave create something that will bar my thoughts from entering your mind.”
  “Wait! Wait!” You look down. The ground is far away from you. Everything sways queasily when Megatron begins to walk. “No! Put me down!”
  “If you vomit on me, I will not hesitate to drop you,” the Decepticon says gratingly.
  “Y-You can’t take me with you!” you yell at him. “I can’t be your soulmate! There has to be a mistake!”
  “The spark doesn’t lie. Your mark is gone, and I can feel the completion you bring me. There is no question that you are my Other Half. What I want to know is why.” He shakes his head angrily. “It is a burden to have such a weak creature by my side. But I will learn to understand. Perhaps you can show me the few strengths humans possess. Do you think you can convince me to spare your race, little one?”
  He’s taking you. He’s not letting you go. You feel faint with horror at the realization that you aren’t getting out of this. Whether you believe it or not, this alien robot is your soulmate.
  You’ve gotten exactly what you wanted. But this isn’t how you thought meeting your Other Half would go.
  You hear one last thought from Megatron echo ominously in your mind. It sends shivers down your spine. “You are mine now.”
  After that, you pass out.
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ghostybaby000 · 1 day
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Never Yours | Part 2
Part 1
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Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x reader
Summary: He had seen blood hundreds of times before, but never from you. He didn’t know what to expect while listening to your cry’s on the phone praying you wouldn’t lose consciousness. 
Part one posted above to start this read!
Word count: 1.7k
Warnings: violent theme, weaponry use, blood, symptoms of panic
Tag List: @yyiikes @talooolaaloolla (not fully edited, apologies for any inconsistencies!)
He wanted so badly to look at you more thoroughly, but knew that the hospital would be able to help you faster.  He felt as if his heart had entirely stopped, and that the world was moving at speeds beyond light. The car screeched to a halt outside the emergency room as he tore the door open to the car, again picking you up as gently as he could, trying his best to ignore the wetness of your blood covering his hands and in your hair. Leaving the car and the prying eyes outside the building he shut the door with his foot and turned to head inside. He couldn’t hear anyone around him, as he pushed through people in beds and wheelchairs yelling out for help, making it to the front desk. 
‘I-I need someone to help her.’  He was out of breath now from yelling, the adrenaline not letting his brain calm in the slightest. 
The woman at the desk stood up immediately and upon seeing the blood coming from the shirt and the person he was holding and called for help. 
‘Put her down here-‘ The woman pulled a bed out of a room nearby and rolled it to his side.  
He couldn’t let you go. He looked over your eye lids and watched your lips, those delicate pink lips-his jaw clenched as he looked down to the bed.  He had told himself to put you down and let them take you, to help you to make you better. His muscles wouldn’t let the weight of you go, he didn’t want to be away from you again-
‘Sir, please we can get her into an OR. Put her down.’ The woman’s gentle but stern voice breaking his thoughts as he forced himself to gently set you down. He heard the air come from your lungs as he entirely let go, you were being rushed away from him and there was nothing more he could do.
It had felt like the minutes were taking hours to pass by as he waited, his panic never leaving him. After 3 or so hours his mind forced him to think about the events and what he could do. He knew that something had gone bad from the start with the markings on the door and the bathroom being beaten in, and called the only people he knew to call in a moment like this. 
‘She’s getting help now mate, that’s what matters.’ Prices voice rang through the phone, not that Simon was listening much. He was pacing the small waiting room on the trauma floor while rubbing his hands over his face only to wipe them on his pants to rid of his sweat. 
‘I-I should of been there.’ His breathing stammering, his voice hoarse from yelling through the house and the emergency room. 
‘You got her there and now she’s getting help, you have to focus on that.’ 
 Simon took a moment to sit in the chair in the room, only to stand again and resume his pacing. He had tried to explain what he had seen to Price, although the thoughts were fading and blurring as he tried to recall the details. He walked into the bathroom and saw you laying in a small pool of blood, a blade handle coming out of your abdomen. Your eyes shut as you lay motionless, unresponsive to him picking you up or yelling your name. The phone near the tub with your blood smeared on it, and your fragile face cut and bruised down and across the neck. 
He now looked down to his free hand at the blood that had stained it, quickly looking away and pushing his hand in his pocket. A spark of rage had been ignited inside of him at the thought of someone doing this. Rage that was unlike any other he had known for himself, though for now it was tamed by the feeling of panic and concern for you-which came above all else. Recalling it made him feel sick again as he heard the voice in the phone once more speaking to him. 
‘We’re going to do all that we can from our end, and I promise you-you will hear anything that we get over here. You need to stay put and wait for-‘ The line went dead as Simon ended the call. The doctor was headed to the waiting room and as he stopped pacing to face him, he spoke.
‘Are you Simon Riley?’  Simon was trying to read his expression for any indicator to your wellbeing before remembering to respond.
‘Yes that’s me- how is she. How is Y/N?’ His breath was caught in his chest with anticipation as he stared daggers into the doctor’s eyes. 
The man in the white recognized Simons panic and lowered his clip board, to look and speak to him directly. 
‘She’s stable.’ Simons entire body felt a surge of momentary relief as he sat down into a nearby chair, letting the breath he had been holding escape. The doctor gave him a moment to breathe before continuing to speak.
‘It wasn’t an easy surgery by any means.’ Simons eyes shot up to meet the mans-he had never been so focused, the concern again rising in his mind as the doctor continued. 
‘She’s going to need quite some time to recover after this, were you injured at all?’ The doctor looked over his blood stained shirt and hands. Simon protested that he was fine and that he had found you and not been involved in the incident. He accepted this response for the time being and began to talk about the procedure using terms that Simon didn’t entirely understand. He wasn’t listening to all of the details and complexions of the things they were doing to you, it had only made himself feel worse. 
The doctor tried to ask about the situation that caused it or how it had happened- questions that he couldn’t think to answer. As he had seen it many times before, the doctor gave Simon time, telling him that she would hopefully be able to have visitors in a few hours. 
Before leaving, the doctor added that if he wanted to, Simon could leave a phone number to contact him for when she was ready, and he had the option to leave until then. He wouldn’t move. He didn’t go to the bathroom, he didn’t eat, he didn’t drink until he was able to see you. He found himself staring at a movie playing, not taking in anything that was happening but distracting himself from the situation. The movie had ended and begun another as he felt his eyes begin to close, he heard the distant voice of a man that awoke him instantly. 
‘Simon?’ He shot up out of the chair he had been in trying to locate who was talking to him, his heart jumping to an alarming rate. He spun around to find that same doctor as before was again coming towards him, his breath was caught in his throat. 
‘I found it important to update you myself on Y/N. There was a complication with one of her sutures after we had gotten her closed up, she’s lost quite a bit of blood tonight and we-‘
‘Is she alright?’ Simon’s body had gone practically numb, his low gruff voice almost yelling out of his chest. He wasn’t able to be patient anymore, he wasn’t able to give the time to wait even to finish a sentence to hear if you were okay. His eyes again staring into the doctors, flickering between the two.
‘She’s just about stable again, but she won’t be seeing anyone for a few more hours at least. Whatever it was that happened put a lot of stress on her body, more than we anticipated.’ The doctor paused for Simon to add any input he had on the situation to the conversation, but to no avail. 
Simon had been standing to speak to the doctor and when told it would be a longer wait, again planted himself in the chair. This time his arms sitting on his legs he let his head fall between his knees, his adrenaline coming back to him. Listening to the beat of his heart pound in his head, moments later he felt a light tap on his shoulder breaking his trance, looking up to see a white cone cup the doctor was handing him. He looked past the man at first to the water machine, then taking it into his own hands.
He thanked the doctor for updating him as he nestled again into the chair that held him up as he waited through the night. He didn’t care how long it took, as long as he would be able to see you. He finished another movie, not bothering with anything that was happening as people came in and out of the waiting room, or as people scurried by to get to another wing of the hospital. Spending most of the night pacing the small room or sitting and bouncing his leg, thanking the passing nurses who came to check on him seeing his blood ridden shirt. Although not by his choice, exhaustion forced his body to slip into a light sleep, one that he was fond of when on duty. The next morning he jolted awake as a nurse tapped lightly on his arm. 
‘Y/N is asking to see you in room 412, you are Simon Riley aren’t you?’ She stepped back from the large man that had made such sudden movements, only to point down the hall to where the room was. 
Without another word he got up and practically sprinted to room 412 leaving any bit of exhaustion in the chair, only slowing to move past doctors and other patients being transported. 
He didn’t want anything to keep you from him-yet, he found himself still as stone when trying to move for the door handle to your room. His heart was beating faster than he thought possible as he pulled in a shaking breath and felt the cold metal of the handle. He pushed open the door and walked in the room where he saw you again. This time bandaged and wrapped in blankets, but alive. 
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cleo-fox · 3 days
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As the Clock Strikes Midnight - Part I
Series Masterlist Chapter Summary: In which your story begins. Chapter Warnings: Off screen parental death, implied alcoholism, financial ruin, Loki being vaguely menacing in a library.
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Once upon a time, you had a family and you were happy.
Your father was a lord with a modest estate to his name. You had enough money to live comfortably and pay your servants well, but not so much that you lost all perspective. Your parents were good, kind people who were well-liked and well-respected, and they loved you very much. Though they had been married for many, many years, they still behaved as a couple newly and madly in love. Your mother’s eyes lit up when your father walked into the room and your father looked at your mother like she was the sun and moon and all the stars combined in one dizzying and glittering person who lit up his entire world.
In the darkest part of the night, when all your tears had been spent and your heart felt as though it would never stop breaking, you wondered if it would have been better had he loved her a little less, if that would have made things easier for him in the end. It’s the sort of thought that you feel guilty having, the sort of question that you know you’re not supposed to ask—after all, some stones are better left unturned.
Your bright and glittering mother burned too brightly for this world and it seemed rather bitterly poetic that she should be taken by a fever. Her eyes shone bright as new silver coins as the sickness burned through her, her fevered mind conjuring demons and shadowy figures from the flickering firelight in her chambers. The shadows in her mind made her weep and scream so loudly that you couldn’t help but hear it, even though your father tried to shield you from the worst of it. Worse, though, was when she went very still and quiet, her rattling cough the only sign that life still lingered in her too bright eyes.
She was only sick for a fortnight, but it felt like months of pressing cool cloths against her burning brow and waiting with bated breath for relief that did not come.
She died at sunrise, leaving you alone and taking a part of your father with her.
He tried, your father. He really did. He got up and got dressed every day. He still took you on rambling strolls through the city, still took an interest in your studies, still quizzed you on history at the dinner table, still told you he loved you. But his eyes never really regained their former sparkle and his face grew hollow and just a shade too thin. He drank more—always at night after he thought you’d gone to bed. Sometimes, you would find him staring empty-eyed into the fire, like if he looked hard enough, he might catch a glimpse of your glittering mother dancing in the flames just beyond his reach.
The worst part of it was when you tried to talk about it, he insisted he was fine, even as he began to neglect the house, even as he did not hire replacements for the servants who had begun to leave. You suspected—but could not say for certain—that if you were to look at the house’s accounts, you would find a good deal of red in the ledger. He grew weaker and thinner, like he was trying with all of his might to just disappear.
Your father died like your mother—in the quiet of the night before you could say goodbye.
But your problems were only just beginning. 
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You hadn’t expected them to bring you before the king’s steward, but that is where they take you when you arrive at the palace. The palace as a whole is light and airy and bright, but Fritjof’s office feels like a dungeon—largely because of the man himself. Fritjof is a thin and reedy man who would seem less imposing and severe if he were carved from granite. He sits at his desk as he looks you over, his mouth drawn into a thin hard line like you've already disappointed him.
“Do you know why you’re here, girl?” You don’t know it yet, but this greeting is a rather apt example of what your entire relationship with Fritjof will be: cold, distant, and abrupt.
You’re not sure if you should look him in the eye—he seems like the sort of man who would interpret a direct gaze as a sign of impertinence while simultaneously demanding it as a sign of respect. There is no winning with that sort of man—you’re young, but you know this.
Ultimately, though, you decide to look him in the eye. Not for him, but for yourself—it at least gives you the illusion that you’re somewhat in control. It’s a comforting illusion, even if it is a lie.
You clear your throat. “My father’s debts, sir.”
He sniffs slightly and it’s somehow dismissive, like you’d said the wrong thing and he’d expected that. “No.” He picks up a quill and makes a careful note on one of the papers sitting in front of him. “You are here,” he says as he writes, “because of the Allfather’s generosity.” He looks up, fixing you with a stern gaze. “You will do well to remember that.”
“Yes, sir,” you say.
He returns to his writing. “You are not of age and you have no family to take you in.”
This is a fact that you’ve become quite well acquainted with, but you are still surprised by how painful it is to hear Fritjof say.
“The Allfather has settled your father’s debts and you are now a ward in the employ of the crown. You will take no wage until such a time that your debt to the crown has been repaid. You have ceded all claims to your title and any property of significant value.”
He sets his quill down and looks up, his expression devoid of any warmth. “You are a servant, you are indebted to the crown, and you will remember your rightful place at all times. I do not tolerate foolishness, laziness, impertinence, or stupidity. Do I make myself clear?”
You swallow, your fingernails digging hard into the palms of your hands, any hope of finding kindness at the palace well and truly extinguished. “Yes, sir.”
Fritjof stares at you for a moment longer and you get the sense that he’s trying to decide whether you’re truly clever enough to have answered his question. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from squirming under his gaze. Finally, he clears his throat.
“You will work in the kitchens. Grete will see to your training. You are dismissed.”
You don’t really know where the kitchens are or who Grete is, but you exit as quickly as possible, desperate to leave Fritjof and his icy gaze well and far behind you.
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Years pass and you come of age in the punishing pace of the palace kitchens.
You are an average worker, precise and methodical, but not exemplary or incompetent enough to draw much attention. You like it this way—the less conspicuous you are, the less likely that you’ll stumble into Fritjof’s crosshairs. While Fritjof spends very little time in the kitchens, his general presence in the palace has the same effect as an icy draft on a guttering fire. He doesn’t exactly seem to like anyone in particular, but it feels like he reserves a particular kind of disdain for you especially. You’re not entirely sure why—it’s not as if you’ve done anything other than simply exist in front of the man—but you try not to think on it much. At some point, you mention it to Grete and she laughs.
“That man has never smiled a day in his life,” she says. “His soul’s made of vinegar. Keep your head down and pay him no mind.”
You laugh, but you still can’t quite shake the feeling.
Grete is something like a friend, you suppose. She’s around your age and prone to gossip, but she’s pleasant enough. She makes an effort to include you in her small group of friends—Marit, Solvi, Lise, and Ylva. It’s not quite the same as your life before, but you have something that resembles a social life, which is more than you expected given Fritjof’s icy reception.
The head cook, Anja, also turns out to be something of a blessing. While the details of your current situation have left you feeling a little wary about trusting anyone, Anja proves to be the exception to that rule. She’s not exactly a warm person, but when she finds you crying in the pantry one night not long after you first arrive at the palace, she sits you down in front of the fire and fixes you a mug of warm milk.
“I’m not one much for sentiment,” she says gruffly as she hands you the mug.
You tense in anticipation of the lecture you’re certain is coming.
“But losing both your parents in such a short time, that’s a heartache I understand.”
You don’t really know what to say to that, so you nod and take a careful sip from your mug.
“I won’t tell you it gets easier,” she says, “but the pain dulls after a while. It’ll become an ache you can live with.”
Anja is quiet for a long time as you sip at your milk, but it’s not an uncomfortable quiet. “You’re a smart girl,” she says eventually. “This—” she gestures broadly at the kitchen, “—this is just a short season in your life. You won’t be a ward of the crown forever.”
It’s the first time that anyone has said anything like that to you, the first time that your debt has felt like anything other than an immovable and immutable obstacle. It’s a hope that feels practical and you feel something lighten in your spirit. 
You blink away more tears and Anja pretends she doesn’t see. “Thank you,” you say.
Anja pats your shoulder as she stands. “Wash the cup before you go to bed.”
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For the most part, you keep your head down and focus on your work, dreaming about the day your debt is repaid and you can leave the palace behind.
Though you’re curious about your outstanding balance, you decide that you cannot ask Fritjof about it for a while yet. While Fritjof’s general unpleasantness and seeming dislike of you is a motivating factor, the main reason is because the amount you owe is large enough that it doesn't seem particularly prudent to check until enough time has passed for your work to start to make a difference.
So, you wait and work.
It’s many years after your arrival that you finally drum up the courage to knock on Fritjof’s office door. Though you are now a woman grown, you can’t help but feel like you did on that first day: wide-eyed and terrified, your fingernails digging into the palms of your hands in an effort to maintain your composure. Even though you’ve never asked him about this before, Fritjof still looks annoyed as he hauls out his ledger, licking his index finger as he flips through the pages.
Your knees are shaking when he finally slides the ledger across his desk for you to inspect. You suck in an uncertain breath while your eyes scan across the page until you find your name.
And there in Fritjof’s precise script is a horrible truth: your balance owed has barely moved at all.
You have worked until your body ached, forgone sleep and many other comforts, and it all amounts to a raindrop in the ocean. At this rate, you will be an old woman by the time it is paid off in full.
You have years of practice holding back tears, but this creeping sense of despair and the lump in your throat are both new. You feel as though you’ve lost something important and after a moment, it occurs to you that the feeling you’ve lost is hope.
“Will that be all?” Fritjof says gruffly.
You jolt. “Yes. Thank you, sir.”
You only allow yourself to weep later that evening under the cover of darkness.
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But despite that loss, this is the year that everything begins to change, though you won’t know that until much later.
You spend the first week after Fritjof’s revelation walking around in a dazed fog. You eat little and sleep as soon as your work ends in the evening, clinging to what scant comfort your dreams are able to provide. But from that consuming fog of hopelessness emerges a strange kind of freedom. It’s not exactly apathy so much as it is perspective—suddenly, the little things that bothered you seem pointless, arbitrary rules that kept you in line feel less consequential. Does it truly matter if you sneak an extra pastry into the pocket of your apron when so many more years of backbreaking work lay ahead of you?
It’s this change in perspective that motivates you to begin visiting the palace library.
Reading is a pleasure that was taken from you when you came to the palace. You had managed to keep four favorites from your parents’ library, but you have read them so many times over that it is difficult to enjoy them in the same way that you had before. With all of your wages going toward your debt, you have no money to buy books of your own, not even the cheap paperbacks they sell in the marketplace. From time to time, you might be able to arrange a trade with one of the other servants—bartering an extra shift for a borrowed book—but your reading interests and theirs did not always align. A library is a luxury that you can barely even begin to imagine—and one day, it occurs to you that maybe you shouldn’t have to imagine it.
You’re not exactly breaking a specific rule. That is the story you intend to tell if you are ever caught. The library is open to the entire palace and no one has ever specifically said that servants are excluded. Granted, if you have to guess, you’re fairly certain that you’re not supposed to be there, but you’re prepared to play dumb if it comes down to that.
You are still careful, though. You only go very late at night during your free hours. You don’t stay long—maybe an hour at most, the clock chiming midnight always serving as your cue to exit. You never take anything with you—you read quietly standing in the stacks, your eyes straining in the dim lamplight.
You like this new rhythm to your days—it gives you something to look forward to, a glimmer of light in an otherwise exhausting existence. The only person who notices you coming and going at late hours is Grete, but she easily convinces herself that you’re sneaking about because you’ve taken a lover. You roll your eyes and tell her that you’ve simply grown fond of a late evening walk. She doesn’t believe you, but she doesn’t try to stop you either, which is the only thing you care about.
It’s three weeks in when you’re caught. You expected this would happen at some point, but you didn’t think it would be so soon and you didn’t think that one of the princes would be the one to catch you.
Your stomach drops as you recognize the emerald gaze boring into you from across the room. You hadn’t seen him sitting there, hadn’t heard him come in, and there is no way to hide the open book in your hand. It’s not like you could pretend that you are here on urgent kitchen business, either. If Thor had been the one to find you, you might have had a hope of pleading your case, but Loki...well. Loki isn’t exactly known for being particularly merciful.
You meet his gaze dead on, your chin jutting out almost instinctively in quiet defiance. He looks at you, utterly unreadable, his gaze flitting briefly to the book in your hand. There’s a slight twitch at the corner of his lips—something that could be a hint of amusement, though you can’t quite imagine him smiling in this moment.
He holds your gaze for a moment more and then his gaze drops back to his book.
You stare at him for a few seconds before retreating back into the shadows of the stacks, your heart beating wildly. You’re not entirely certain what this means. Perhaps he is biding his time; perhaps he will go straight from here to Fritjof’s office after he finishes his book. Perhaps he will wait until morning.
You consider this for a moment. If he intends to report you, your time in the library is surely limited; you’ll be back to rereading your own books and making bargains with the other servants. This could be your last chance to enjoy a new book for quite a while. You might as well make the most of it.
It’s not easy to bring your focus back to the text, but you manage, even though your heart is still thundering in your chest. Your legs are a little wobbly, but you convince yourself to stay until the clock chimes midnight.
Loki looks up as you are leaving the library. You keep your eyes on his, chin tilted up as you dip into a perfunctory curtsy. You’re not quite sure if it’s amusement or something darker that makes his eyes glitter like jewels, but it’s out of your hands now and you’re resigned to whatever fate has in store. You leave the library with your head held high, the hairs on the back of your neck prickling under the weight of Loki’s gaze.
When all is said and done, though, he doesn’t report you.
He’s there the next evening when you return and most of the ones after that. You seem to have reached some sort of unspoken agreement with him, though it baffles you. You are not entirely certain of his motivations—perhaps he sees you as an amusing curiosity, perhaps he does not care enough about rules and protocol to be much concerned when someone breaks them. Perhaps it’s simply the fact that you never seek to deprive him of the chair that he favors—the red one right by the window. Or perhaps he still intends to turn you over to Fritjof and he’s merely waiting for the right moment to do it. Whatever the reason, he seems content to allow you to go about your business and you decide that it’s a reprieve that’s best not questioned overly much. 
Still, even with this silent truce between you, even with your vow not to think about all the ways this could go wrong, Loki gives you the same feeling you get when you discover a wasp trapped indoors: a slight sense of unease, the feeling that you must be aware of his presence at all times or risk some sort of danger.
Careful, you think.
Sometimes, you lock eyes and it’s hard to ignore how hard your heart beats in your throat, how difficult it is to hold your head high and not look away. It gives you a strange feeling, but not necessarily an unwelcome one.
He’s also rather absurdly handsome, which doesn’t help matters. 
Careful.
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Every year, the palace hosts a masquerade ball. It’s meant to be a celebration for all of Asgard—everyone is invited, even the servants. Inviting the servants is a nice gesture, but a slightly thoughtless one—a ball requires an enormous amount of work, especially from the kitchen staff. If everyone took the night off to attend, there would be no celebration at all.
Many years ago, Anja had implemented a solution to this problem. There would be a rotation—the full staff would work together the day of the ball, with one third being dismissed a few hours early to attend and the other two thirds remaining in the kitchens to work. The assignments would change every year so everyone got the chance to attend. It wasn’t perfect, but it was fair and no one could find any fault with fair.
The problem for you was that Fritjof was the one who actually arranged the staffing for this. And every single year, you are assigned to the group scheduled to work. You know that this is intentional on Fritjof’s part: it is the sort of pointless, petty revenge that he is fond of and it requires little effort for him to accomplish.
It doesn’t really occur to you to complain about it. You’re trying to keep your head down and complaining to Fritjof is not worth the trouble it would cause, even though you would very much like to go. So, every year you ignore the sympathetic looks from Grete and the other girls and try not to think about the dress you have tucked away in the trunk in your room as you work the night away in the kitchens.
Among the few belongings that you were permitted to take with you to the palace is a gown that once belonged to your mother. You wanted a bright, glittering reminder of her when she died and this dress was the brightest and most glittering one in her wardrobe. It is several seasons out of fashion, but it is beautifully elegant, all ivory silk and lace and hemmed with silvery embroidered leaves. The matching shoes are encrusted with blue and silver beads that glitter like glass when they catch the light. A matching mask of silver filigree accompanies it—your mother must have worn it to one of the masquerade balls many years ago.
It is an impractical dress to keep—you have never worn it anywhere outside of your own room—but it’s nice to put it on and pretend sometimes. If you ever get the chance to go, this would be the dress you would wear—everyone dressed a little outlandishly for the masquerade and a gown a few seasons out of fashion would draw no special attention.
It’s a silly, passing thought—just another daydream that makes your old life seem not quite as far away. 
But in the year that everything changes, your absence from the ball is finally brought to Anja’s attention.
On the day of the masquerade, Anja summons you to the larder on the pretext of helping her with some pastries. The moment the door closes, she whirls on you, fixing you with a stern gaze. You tense and for a moment, you think she must have found out about your trips to the library.
“Why didn’t you tell me that you’ve been assigned to work during the masquerade every year since you’ve arrived?”
Your relief is immediate, accompanied by a dizzying rush of adrenaline that almost makes you want to laugh. “I didn’t think it mattered.”
“Of course it matters,” says Anja with a level of feeling that surprises you. “Everyone's meant to have a chance to go, not everyone except for one person. You should have said something to me.”
You know you’re speaking out of turn, but the indignation in Anja’s voice is oddly disarming. “I didn’t think Fritjof would allow it,” you say.
Anja’s shoulders sag slightly and there’s a flash of softness in her eyes that disappears almost as quickly as it appears. “I’ll thank you not to repeat this, but that man is too hard on you.”
You shrug, not really sure what to say.
“Luckily, he’s predictable,” she continues. “He’ll be in and out of the kitchens early on in the evening, so I can’t change your assignment without him noticing. Once desserts go out, though, he’s likely to stay in the ballroom. After the cakes are iced, I’ll send you to go get dressed. You won’t have more’n two hours in all, but it’s enough time to get cleaned up and dressed and have a dance or two before the unmasking at midnight.”
Your mouth hangs open. This was beyond what you had hoped for. “Really?”
“Don’t gape at me, girlie, it’s unbecoming,” she says, lightly tapping your cheek. There’s something warm growing and expanding in your chest and you realize there are tears brimming in your eyes. “Don’t you cry on me either or I’ll change my mind,” says Anja gruffly, though there’s warmth there.
You nod, hastily wiping your eyes. “I just—I never thought...thank you, Anja.”
“It’s the decent thing to do,” she says, brushing you off. “Now look lively, there’s a lot of work to be done yet.”
You think of your bright and glittering mother and your kind father and the life that they wanted for you. It’s just a masquerade, but you can’t help the small, hopeful feeling that blooms in your chest.
Little do you know that this will be the start of something rather extraordinary.
(Next chapter) coming soon
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melodic-haze · 3 days
Note
remote vibrator in public w sub robin?? 👀
☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Robin x dom!Reader
☆ — TYPE: NSFW
☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Exhibitionism, mentions of corruption, semi-public sex mentions at the end
☆ — NOTES: Wait I didn't even realise I had essentially already done this oh my god 😭😭😭😭😭😭 anyway is a cheeky Robin ooc I wonder if it is..........my bad gang I actually haven't finished Penacony yet 😭 ik like spoilers
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Such a move spells TROUBLE for a universal celebrity like her.............good thing she likes the trouble you put her through ☺️
You've seen how she dedicates herself to her multimedia craft, putting her all into performing arts for the sake of inspiring people and making everyone happy. Now, you want to see how she does with.......performing for a different reason :3
"Such a risk would be much more trouble than it's worth, you know."
"If it's 'so much trouble', then why are you smiling like that?"
"Maybe I just find your request amusing. You know that the press are determined to spot anything that may give them a good scoop."
It's not as if Robin was wrong—a cosmically-famous figure like her would be risking the possibility of complete and utter ruination with such deviancy, along with.. well, having to face her brother. And The Family too, but mostly her brother. She had the right to be worried.
..But, well, she doesn't really seem to be worried right now, despite her words. If anything, the expression on her face as she leaned on the wall and the slight fluttering of her wings showed a different feeling.
As if she were the cat that got the cream.
"Uh huh," you leaned back on the chaise with a knowing look, eyes narrowed and arms crossed, "what I know is you're not saying no..."
She lets out a false sigh as she pushed herself off the wall to head to you, "Aw, I thought I led you off my trail."
"Like you do with the press? Oh, please." You rolled your eyes, "I know you much better than that."
"You seem so sure."
"Am I wrong?"
"Mm.. no, I guess you're not."
Then she sits down on your lap and wraps her arms around your neck, the wings on her hips wrapping themselves around the both of you like a barrier that separates you from the rest of the world, "And neither are you wrong about my lack of your refusal."
Your hands snake themselves over to your lover's waist.. before moving down further and lightly squeezing her ass, "So that's a yes?"
"Mhm," she hummed, her voice reduced to a raspy whisper, "I could never resist you, sweetheart."
"What a coincidence—I could never resist you either. Must be a Halovian thing, with that halo of yours."
"Haha, who knows."
And that leads on to your present situation: Robin, as an important member of The Family and a famous singer, was invited to a gala as a special guest. Naturally, she attended and was thankful that they allowed her to invite a plus-one. Considering that Sunday had his own invitation, you were practically the most obvious pick out of everyone she could've chosen, both because you were her most important person.......and because this was a perfect opportunity for the both of you
So here she was, clinging to your arm as you talked to some.. some random who was (unsurprisingly) one of Robin's fans, one that's REALLY obsessed with her too, apparently. And really, she wasn't sure whether to thank you for giving her a different thing to focus on or silently plead to you somehow to cut it out, but she essentially clamped her mouth shut for most of the time you were there, not actually trusting herself to let out a coherent sentence
Not just with that one guy too, you do this through the night—your hand mostly in your pocket as you manipulated the controls of the vibrator within her, usually during inconvenient moments to mess with her a bit
During times you're left alone with her as everyone else goes to do other things and talk to other people, you taunt her of how if she doesn't hide it good enough then people miiiight start suspecting something's wrong ☺️☺️ and she wouldn't wanna ruin her career like this, would she ☺️☺️☺️☺️ oh that'd be such a huge shame ☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️
At first she does actually taunt you back, lightly boasting to you that it takes a lot more to faze her and that it's sweet of you to try...........but as the night progresses you find that she fires back at you less and less, your favourite songbird getting increasingly more quiet, just like how her panties are getting increasingly wetter. But she bares with it with a smile anyway, disregarding the rosy tint in her cheeks as simply applying too much blush HAHAHAHA
It's not just when you two are together either!!! You've both made sure that the toy has a big enough range that you can walk around without the connection being severed from the distance, so it was rather easy for you to manipulate it even while you were away from her. Oh, and how FUN it is, esp when you see her try to look around for you as her wings flutter restlessly
It's actually rather impressive to watch though—even when the night toiled away and it got increasingly harder for her to stop herself from cumming herself silly from sheer frustration, she keeps herself in check. It's almost as if she were completely unbothered, acting the perfect part as a beautiful socialite at a grand event as she sang with (very false) confidence. You would've been fooled......if it weren't for the fact that she had telepathised her need for you to just bend her over somewhere and fuck her dumb instead of letting her continue with this toy inside of her. You almost feel bad
Keyword: almost, especially when you decide to get braver and mess with her a liiiiittle bit more. And she would've been fine with it!!! At least, if it weren't for the fact that this was with HER FUCKING BROTHER LOL
Halovians, the musical and emotional creatures that they are, can probably communicate via special frequencies right?? At least, that's my personal hc, like you can't actually use a radio to intercept it and listen in bc it's like a Halovian-specific kinda thing that can only be read through their halos. Idk how they work lol don't sic me
Anyway through that logic, I feel like Sunday picked up signals of distress from his little sister. He's probably more sensitive to her frequencies too, with how yk. They're related. Like sharing genetic code except it's like if you look at a sound visualiser and see multiple lines at once and the Oak siblings have that one similar line or smth. So he can tell that SOMETHING is wrong with her, just not what specifically (esp when Robin's probably trying her best to block out signals of her lust from ever notifying her brother that smth more is happening)
"Are you certain you're feeling alright, Robin?" Sunday's voice held a sense of urgency and protectiveness, as expected of the one that had been there for her as the one constant before she had left Penacony, "I can tell that something is off.. and your feathers are a bit ruffled."
The worried emotions he had sent to Robin, along with a request to pry into her psychical wellbeing, didn't help the singer at all in terms of calming down—the possibility of her beloved brother becoming unwillingly privy to the fact that her inner workings are so utterly perverse and corrupted scares her. The fact that you had slowly switched the vibe's speed between an agonisingly slow pace and an upward climb as the exchange went on added to the torture.
Though compared to the rest of the night, this time actually felt like you were taking mercy on her, with the way you hadn't decided to suddenly ramp the intensity up out of nowhere.
(And there was that twisted feeling inside her that actually liked the thought of being an R-rated spectacle in front of all these people around them still threatening to take her focus away.)
To keep up the charade as she continued to block Sunday's attempts in peering into her enotions, she could only do what she did best; perform. So she nods her head with a smile, though the latter action didn't really need that much acting, "Yes, I'm feeling alright. I appreciate the concern, brother, but nothing's wrong. Perhaps it's just exhaustion—I don't know how you.. mm.. how you deal with it all the time."
"I could say the same to you," he reciprocates her smile, if a tad bit crooked from his worry, "I think it takes a lot of inner strength, to take on the attention of a universal crowd. Luckily, I know you can more than handle it."
The blue-haired sibling hummed, her smile widening from her brother's confidence, "It's because I know I have you to fall back-- on..!"
The grey-haired sibling furrowed her eyebrows in turn at the sudden yelp, "Are you quite sure you're okay..? You're worrying me, dear sister."
...
Yeah, no, she couldn't carry on such a conversation like this.
Another nod as she digs her nails into her palms in an effort to redirect her thoughts from the overflow of slick in the apex of her thighs, "Y-Yes, I'm fine... I think I just need to take a walk around to.. calm myself. I feel rather warm."
He doesn't reply immediately, leaving Robin in suspense. Could he have figured it out?
..Turns out no, as he lets out a small sigh, "Alright, just remember to tell me if something's wrong, yes? I don't want your comeback here to be an unpleasant one."
"I will, thank you."
She turns around in a hurry—though not that much of a hurry, lest he either gets more suspicious or she somehow makes the toy's effect worse—and leaves, making a beeline for you before grabbing onto your wrist and dragging you off before you could say a word (though the small smirk on your face said all you needed to say).
And Sunday clocks the two of you leaving the main hall together with a raised brow. His initial instinct is to go investigate himself—he knew better than to believe his sister's act, of course... But he thought better of it.
He had an inkling that perhaps this wasn't something he should involve himself in.
And his gut feeling was right, esp when Robin dragged you out and into the first private, empty room she found, pushed you down and started grinding onto your lap like a bitch in heat 🥰🥰🥰🥰
People are going to talk for a WHILE about your sudden disappearance, the both of you KNOW this very well, but right now? Robin doesn't gaf, not when her mind's been reduced to a horny mess as she begs you to finally get her off yourself. Whether you do or you DON'T??? Up to you LMAO
Either way, it's DEFINITELY something unforgettable........and dare I say, tellingly exposing of what your songbird likes 🫶
"Why do I deal with such risks again?"
"Because you love me?"
"..Mm. Yes, that's true."
"Wait, really? That's giving me too much power, birdie."
"And that's perfectly fine," her lips curl into a light grin, "There's nobody else I'd rather obey."
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foreingersgod · 2 days
Text
You (on my arm) . CH
pairing: caroline harvey x reader
synopsis: cute moments with kk throughout your relationship!
A/N: this came out kinda shitty, but i promise i’ll have better kk content coming haha
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I wanna sit around and watch you do your hair
“you’re so pretty,” caroline sounded from the doorway of the bathroom “d’you know that?”
it was nearing 6:30 am on a friday morning. you hated getting up early with every fiber of your being, wanting to stay wrapped in caroline’s arms for as long as you could. but today, she had an away game, causing the both of you to pack an overnight bag and make an excruciatingly long drive.
you quite honestly looked a mess, dressed in your comfy clothes and your face decorated with the smallest amount of makeup. your hair was a disaster as you brushed it out, trying to style it in a somewhat presentable manner.
“shut up,” you laughed, looking at her through the mirror. she looked so good, also in her lazy day clothes as she leaned against the frame of the entry way, arms folded across her chest. she looked you up and down, smiling adoringly “i look like a disaster”
“not to me,” she came up behind you, moving stray hairs away from you neck so she could rest her chin on your shoulder. her hands planted themselves on your waist “you look gorgeous no matter what”
you turned your head, planting a kiss to her temple, humming against her skin. she sighed as she gave a gentle rub to your hip.
“love you” she mumbled, voice muffled by your sweatshirt.
“love you more” you confessed to her like you had a thousand times before. she was your person, your everything.
Talk it all into the ground
Have a ceremony there for something, don't know what it'd be
you were sprawled across the grassy meadow, long green blades standing tall, surrounding your body. your sundress rode up your thighs a bit, sneakers kicked off somewhere next to you. your arm was outstretched to your left as your hand fit snuggly into caroline’s. she laid next to you in the grass, smiling at you past the scattered flora. you looked radiant like this: skin glowing and sunkist, hair descending down your shoulders and onto the dampened earth beneath you, teeth sparkling as you let out the most infectious laugh.
she sat up, rolling onto her side and propping her head up on her hand as she stared down at you. her free hand maneuvered over to toy with the hem of your dress, fingers gliding across the soft material.
“i’m gonna marry you one day, i swear”
your cheeks burned from the sun, growing even hotter as she said that. there weren’t enough words to describe how caroline made you feel, so appreciated and wanted and loved. you had every intention of marrying her. although for now it would have to wait, you hated the idea of planning things and balancing school and a job and a full on wedding at the same time. but you both knew, without having to say it, that it didn’t matter if you married or not. the love was there all the same.
“one day,” you mirrored her movements, also rolling to your side “and i can’t wait for that day”
But it'd become nothing, it's nothing
And you'd smile at me
you had done it. through all the last minute study sessions, stressful midterms, and the nights spent crying at the kitchen counter as caroline rubbed your back sympathetically. you had finally graduated college. it was a beyond thrilling moment to slip on your gown and bobby pin the unflattering cap to the top of your head. just thinking of walking away with your degree made your stomach ache with excitement.
your high heel clad foot bounced against the floor as you stood in the long line. the room felt hot and crowded while you waited to make your way across that stage and get your degree. in the distance, the boom of the microphone could be heard echoing through the stadium as the names of the graduates were announced. with each passing moment, you were getting closer and closer to your turn. the hundreds of faces sat in the stadium made its way into the view as the line slowly inched forward. you strained your neck looking around the different sections, trying to find caroline’s familiar face.
unfortunately, your parents and the rest of your family couldn’t make it to this huge milestone in your life. you had gone no contact with the majority of them a while back once they ‘disowned’ you. when they found out you were dating caroline, a girl, they were furious and couldn’t stand having a daughter that followed such a lifestyle. your sister was the only one you stayed in contact with, but she was studying abroad and couldn’t make it back to the states in time to see you graduate. you were absolutely gutted about the whole situation.
but caroline was there for you through it all. sat with you while you sobbed the day before graduation because it was all settling in. she assured you that, even though it wasn’t the same as having your parents and sister there, she was going to be there front and center to watch you succeed. caroline was by far your biggest supporter, your rock through everything. you couldn’t believe you had gotten so lucky with someone so attentive and prideful towards you.
so as you finally reached the front, body shaking with excitement, your eyes bounced around all of the smiling faces. it was only when you handed the announcer your name card, taking your first steps onto the stage, you saw her. she was beaming ear to ear as she locked eyes with you. she had her phone out, ready to record her gorgeous girl accepting her degree. caroline had dressed up just for you, sporting a navy blue dress shirt and slacks to match the colors of your university. she watched as you accepted all the hand shakes, posing for pictures with the dean, and evidently walking off that stage with that cherished piece of paper.
you walked off the stage and started to make your way back to your seat to finish out the rest of the grad ceremony. you looked over to her, finally able to get a clear look at her face. you gave her an excited wave, showing off your degree to her. she clapped for you and blew you a kiss, still smiling as brightly as before.
‘i love you’ she mouthed ‘i’m so proud’
and you smiled, mouthing back to her with tears in your eyes ‘thank you’
I wanna be, I wanna buy you pretty little things
And never ever lie to you
“what’s all this?” you asked, stepping through the door into your shared apartment with caroline.
you had gotten off of work quite upset, driving home with irritation coursing through your veins. you got called in for a so called ‘emergency’ even though you had requested the day off for yours and caroline’s anniversary. in reality, it wasn’t an emergency, rather your boss just needed someone to run errands for him. your girlfriend was so sweet and had planned out the entire day to celebrate, you were in a bad mood the whole day wishing you could just got back home.
but when you walked through that door at around 7pm, the scent of pine wafting around the kitchen, your heart melted. a bouquet of your favorite flowers sat upon the marble countertop, a neatly sealed letter leaned against the vase. there was a small box that also sat next to it with a baby pink ribbon tied around it. caroline stood from where she was previously sitting on the kitchen stool, coming over to greet you.
“just wanted to do something since you had to work today, s’all” she shrugged, pulling you into her by your waist as you set your stuff down on table “happy anniversary, baby”
you felt like you could cry, tears welling up at your lash line. you had felt horrible for spoiling the day by going into work, but caroline was so sweet and understanding and always made sure you felt seen.
“caroline, you didn’t have to do this!” you gestured to the flowers and box, leaning in to smell the flowers “i spoiled our anniversary, i don’t deserve this”
“don’t be ridiculous, you didn’t spoil anything” she kissed your cheek, you could feel her lips curl against your skin “and of course you deserve it, you deserve the world. now open your gift!”
the small ribbon glimmered underneath your dim kitchen lights as you ran your fingers over it. you looked at her with a skeptical face, smirking slightly when she laughed at your expressed. she urged you on, promising that you would like the small little present. you untied the ribbon excitedly and lifted the lid carefully.
sat on a small bed of tissue paper, was the most beautiful charm bracelet you had ever seen. you instantly pulled it out, putting it up to your face to see it closer. it was only when you had gotten a closer look that you had realized what it was.
when you met caroline, you noticed she had always worn a small little bracelet on her left wrist. she told you about a month into your relationship that it was something she’s had since she was a kid, a way to keep important memories close to her. you adored the thing, always asking about the charms that she added and what her favorite ones were.
the bracelet she had gotten you was a near exact replica of hers. it shared a few of the charms that hers held, ones that you said were your favorite. but it also had several new ones. many came from the vacations you and caroline took together, others she bought because they reminded her of you, and one that had both of your initials in a heart. it was by far the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever gotten for you.
“caroline,” you exhaled, completely blown away “baby…i don’t know what to say”
she laughed, taking the bracelet from you and grabbing your hand. she delicately wrapped it around your wrist and secured the clasp. she pulled you in for a passionate kiss, wiping away the tears you seemingly couldn’t stop shedding.
“i hope you like it,” she said “i just know how much you like looking at mine and so i thought-i don’t know maybe it’s silly, but i thought you might like one of your own so we can match”
“of course i like it” you shook your head, looking back at your wrist to admire the charms “this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me…thank you so much, babe”
you spent the rest of that night on the couch, curled up into her side with a glass of wine as caroline explained each and every detail of the charms she picked out. she watched as you giggled at every fond memory she took inspiration from, noticing how you ran your fingers across the intricate designs of the little pieces, thinking about how much she loved you.
Watch you get dressed
And compliment your taste
she laid on your side of the bed, extended horizontally so that her stomach stretched along the width of the bed. her elbows were propped up to support her head as she watched your gorgeous figure from across the room. at first she was scrolling mindlessly on her phone to pass the time until you were ready to leave for your guys’ date, but now she was beyond distracted.
you emerged from the bathroom, hair done up and makeup dewy, walking over to your walk-in closet. you wore nothing except your nude bra and underwear, rushing around frantically trying to pick out an outfit. caroline was practically ogling at you, drooling at the sight.
“is this cute?” she had snapped from her trance when you came out, holding up a yellow dress to your body “i don’t know i can’t decide”
her eyes flickered back forth between your stressed expression and the frilly, lacey dress that had previously been tucked in some corner of the closet. she had seen you wear it a few times, remembering how much she loved the neckline and the way it flowed gracefully down your thighs. in truth, she loved everything you owned no matter what it was. she thought you looked good in everything.
she grinned at you, wanting to scream from how beautiful you looked “yea honey, that looks perfect”
“are you sure?” you asked again. she knew you liked things to be perfect, wanting to look your best for outings and such. but caroline always thought you looked your best no matter what “is it too fancy or anything? i don’t want to look like an overdressed loser or something-”
“hey,” she interrupted, making you quiet down and take a deep breath “you’re gonna look amazing, ok? you could be wearing a paper bag over your head and you’d still turn heads”
“you’re too sweet to me” you said rushing over to press a small kiss to her forehead before scurrying back into the closet to change. caroline observed you through the small crack you left in the closet door. not in a lurking way, she just wanted to appreciate her girl.
she bit her lip as she watched how you shimmied the dress over your hips, how you stuck your tongue out as you tried to zip up the back, and how you ruffled up your hair in the mirror probably a dozen times before deciding you were ready. then you waltzed out, just as beautiful as you were before, grabbing your bag and ushering her off the bed. you kissed the back of her hand as you interlocked fingers, making your way out the door.
man, she had really hit the jackpot with you.
…I'd be better armed
If you agreed to take it <3
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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wanderingsoul6261 · 3 days
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Thanks to the Dare
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gif credit goes to thepalmofyourfreezinghand
James Beaufort x Reader
Synopsis: The group starts the night of a party by playing truth or dare. Someone dares James and Y/N to kiss, knowing that the two had feelings for each other but didn't want to act on them. Later on, after the group gets bored and stop playing truth or dare, they go down the line admitting confessions. Y/N admits that she has never had an orgasm. James wants to be the one that gives her, her first. Happy ending. Fluff.
Sorry if this is poorly written. I might come back to it in a few days and touch it up. Finished it at 3:30 am in the morning and feeling a bit burnt out.
Warning: 18+ SUBJECT. MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT. SEXUAL ACTIVITIES ARE DESCRIBED. other mentions include alcohol. probably some swear words
The party continued to bustle around the group of seven. Cyril, Wren, Y/N, the Ellington siblings and the Beaufort twins currently sat in the living room of Cyril’s house. Wren, Alistair and Elaine sat together, with Lydia and Y/N sitting together, and Finally James and Cyril. Some of them filled the furniture while others sat on other chairs or even the floor, in the midst of the game of truth of dare. 
Y/N was slightly buzzed, a glass of wine currently in her hands. A bottle of water belonging to her sat forgotten somewhere. She had attempted to keep herself hydrated while drinking throughout the night to alleviate the effects of the hangover in the morning, but that didn’t seem likely at this moment. 
Cyril and Wren were definitely well on their way to getting drunk, while the rest of them were being conservative about what they were drinking and how much of it. 
“Okay. Y/N. Your turn.” All faces turned to her at the sound of Cyril’s voice. She raised an eyebrow, waiting. “Truth or dare.” The last one she did was a dare, in which she had been told to sensually dance in the middle of the group. She knew for a fact that Cyril and Wren had taken a very specific delight in watching her. Alistair, Lydia and Elaine could have cared less, but she definitely didn’t miss the hint of a certain look in James’ face. He watched her, a small smirk on his face, as he watched her move and sway her hips. His reaction to it had definitely caused Elaine to be salty towards her ever since. 
Her eyes turned back to Cyril, her mind made up. 
“Let’s do truth.” 
“Ok. Is it true…” Cyril trailed off, likely trying to think of a good one to ask her. He always wanted to know the juicy bits of a person’s life. It didn’t matter who you were. “You fancy someone, specifically within this group of seven?” Y/N rolled her eyes, not surprised in the slightest that this was the question that he would ask. 
“It’s true.” She responded. 
“Who?” Wren piped up, leaning forward to match the same posture that Cyril was also in. The two focused their attention on Y/N, obviously very keen on finding out who she had the hots for. 
“That’s more than one question. You can ask it if I allow it the next time through.” She teased, taking a sip of her wine. Her gaze trailed over to James, who watched her with curious eyes. The smirk from several minutes ago was still pulling at his lips. Y/N put her glass of wine down as Cyril and Wren continued to whine. 
“Come on. You can’t tease a man like that.” Cyril said. With the way he was acting, Y/N wouldn’t have been surprised if he suddenly got on his knees and started begging for an answer. It would be embarrassing for sure, but Y/N figured that Cyril wouldn’t have wanted to be subjected to that kind of embarrassment, and Y/N wasn’t a monster. 
“I can and I will.” Y/N smirked at them. Elaine had only rolled her eyes from where she sat next to Wren and Alistair. 
It had taken several moments to get Wren and Cyril to drop the subject and allow them to continue. James and Alistair had actually had to step in, pulling their attention away from Y/N and to Lydia’s, whose turn it was now, and as they continued the game, Y/N had wondered if she was safe from the potential question that was likely to be asked, and for a little bit, she was safe. Both Cyril and Wren had seemed to have forgotten about the question, and pestered the others when it was their turn to do so, asking for truths and forcing dares. 
However, a certain Beaufort twin herself was a little curious on who Y/N liked,albeit she had an idea, and had therefore come to be the reason that Y/N’s peace and quiet was short lived. The Beaufort twin turned to her brother, a sweet smile on her face. 
“James.” A soft hum left her brother’s throat, his attention now solely on her. He sat forward in his chair his elbows settled on his knees, awaiting the infamous question. 
“Truth or Dare?” she asked. James looked around the room, giving his answer some thought. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, tilting his head back and forth. 
“Putting alot of serious thought into this, aren’t you?” Y/N teased, a smile hidden behind her wine glass as she took another drink. His eyes moved to hers, a look of amusement on his face before James finally looked back at his sister, and thinking that no harm would come of it, gave her his answer. 
“Dare.” Her sweet smile had then turned into a devilish one and for the first time, James had wondered whether or not he should fear his sister. 
“I dare you to kiss Y/N.” The jaws of Cyril, Wren, and Alistair dropped open. Of all people to have asked that dare, they did not expect it to be Lydia. Elaine looked like she could have smoke coming out of her ears. Her arms were crossed and she looked upset. Everyone knew why, which is why it would be funnier if James actually followed through with it. 
Y/N hid herself, looking everywhere around the room but at the six people that were around her. It was her goal to avoid eye contact, especially with Elaine. 
James stared at Y/N, taking in her appearance. He knew Elaine was burning eye holes into him at that moment, but he never did care for her. James knew that she was watching and waiting to see what would happen, but had also known better to know that she wouldn’t make much of a scene. Sure, she would probably make a snide comment or two, and maybe even try the whole cliche “oops sorry, I didn’t see you there” and spill her drink. It was a classic and a go to for every jealous silver spoon female out there. 
Lydia was smirking, watching and waiting, just as Elaine was, but for a different reason. Cyril, Wren, and Alistair looked back and forth between the two, their eyes wide, but also waiting. 
James' eyes had bounced between the five before he turned his attention back to Y/N. She continued to stare at anything else but them. He knew that she was only attempting to avoid the wrath of Elaine, but he had already told himself that he would prevent anything from happening should Elaine try anything. 
He stood up, casting a look towards his sister, who only widened her smirk. With only a few strides, he had crossed over to stand in front of Y/N, eventually getting down on his knees to be more her height. 
She finally looked at him then. His eyes searched her face, looking for any telltale sign that she didn’t want this. Yea, it was a dare, but it didn’t mean that he was going to do anything first without making sure that he had her consent. So far, she showed him nothing. 
“If you don’t want to do this Y/N, we don’t have to.” Elaine snorted from somewhere beside them, and James had only rolled his eyes. Y/N stifled an amused laugh, the corner of her mouth quirking up. 
“No one is saying no.” She whispered, only loud enough for the two of them to hear. “Do your best Beaufort.” James stared at her for several seconds, before surging forward and capturing her lips into a kiss. His hands cupped her cheeks, pulling her into him, feeling relieved when Y/N leaned into it. One of her hands rested on his bicep, while the other came up to tangle itself in his hair.
Catcalls and whistles could be heard coming from Wren and Cyril. Lydia and Alistair had watched as Elaine stood up and walked away, obviously not liking the display in front of her. No one cared, except Alistair, who knew that Elaine liked James, but he himself wasn’t sure if she actually liked James or had just liked him for his name and the riches that came with it. 
“Alright you two, get a room.” 
James and Y/N finally pulled apart, breathing heavily as they looked at each other for several minutes before turning around to face the others. James remained seated next to her and the group, minus Elaine, had continued their game of Truth or Dare. 
However, eventually the group had grown tired of playing truth or dare and had resorted to making confessions that either no one or most people didn’t know about them. 
Y/N listened to most of the confessions that were being said. Cyril was held back in his earlier years of school, prior to coming to Maxton and meeting them. Lydia went a deeper route, confessing something about their parents and the family business. James had nodded along slightly with that, as if he understood where she was coming from. Of course he did. He lived the same life, and Y/N knew all about it.
Her eyes trailed down to their thighs, brushing up against each other ever so slightly. She listened to James' confession.
"I've never loved anyone I've been with. It's just been for pleasure. Especially Elaine." He looked at Alistair and apologized. "No offense." Alistair raised his hands in understand, having taken no offense from it. He knew how his sister could be. Alistair experienced it more than the others. "Although, there is one that I have my sights on." He admitted. Wren and Alistair went on to do their own confessions, Cyril jumping in to admit some more.
But Y/N had turned her attention to James. She looked up at him, her eyes tracing his jawline, the scar on his cheek, the way his hair fall in a soft manner around his face. She watched as his eyes moved to look at her out of the corner of his eyes, and Y/N watched as a soft smile pulled at his lips.
She ran the image of the kiss back through her head, glad that she was sitting, as she grew weak in the legs.
"Hey, Y/N." She finally turned her attention to the others, who all were now staring at her, James also included.
"It's your turn to confess." Wren stated. "You haven't made a confession yet.
"Goodness. You guys are acting like we are in church, and I just committed a sin." Some of them stifled a laugh while the other cracked a smile.
"Who knows. Maybe you did." Cyril added, wriggling his eyebrows. Y/N rolled her eyes, trying to think of something to confess.
Then she paused, her eyes trailing across the group. Many would see this as surprise, as she has sexually interacted with ex boyfriends or one-night stands. But they were never good enough.
"I've never had an orgasm." Jaws dropped open as she looked around the group, thankful that Elaine had walked away earlier in the night.
"What?" Cyril asked.
"I've never had an-"
"It was a rhetorical question, no need to answer it."
James looked down at her in question.
"Haven't you had-"
"I have. But none of the ones I did it with were ever good enough to get me to that point." She explained. "The sex was really poor." Lydia stifled a laugh, in which Y/N smiled in response. "Your sister may know more than she lets on." James glanced between the two, a twinkle appearing in his eye, a smirk upon his lips.
He then turned his attention back to the rest of the group, as they lost their minds at Y/N's confession. She found it amusing in fact, as both Cyril and Wren both refused to believe that her confession was the truth.
It was known that she slept with a few, mostly old boyfriends, but those boyfriends were boys, and didn't know exactly how to actually treat a lady.
--- SMUT BEYOND THIS POINT. MINORS, PLEASE DON'T INTERACT
After a little bit more time had passed, Y/N had stood up addressing that she needed to use the bathroom really quick. James watched her go, downed the rest of his drink, and claimed he was going for a refill. The others watched the two leave, suspecting that neither of them would be back anytime soon.
Upon walking out of the bathroom, Y/N had been pushed against the wall, looking up to see James. The stance he had over her made her weak in the knees.
"James?"
He leaned forward, keeping eye contact with her. James maintained eye contact with her for several moments, before he leaned forward some more, until his lips brushed gently against her eye. She shivered, and she could feel the smirk form on his lips.
"You want to know what an orgasm feels like?" He asked, his breath fanning hotly against the side of her face. And just like that, arousal filled her entire body. A low whine escaped her lips and James pulled back to look her in her face.
"Words, sweetheart. I don't know what you want unless you tell me."
"Are You making a promise, Beaufort?" His blue eyes grew darker with arousal.
"It's not a promise, love. It's a guarantee." After a few more seconds of the two staring at each other, they pulled each other in for a kiss. It was sloppy, and definitely spoke true to the moment and their desires. James looped his arms around her thighs, hoisting her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist. He made his way towards a guest bedroom, one that he dubbed as his whenever he stayed over.
James made easy work of opening the door and closing it behind him. He wasn't wasting any time. He wanted to spend as much time as he could, showing Y/N how she should be treated.
Y/N fell backward onto the bed with a soft 'oof', staring up at James as he stared down at her. She grew self-conscious, her cheeks growing red as she grew flustered.
"Absolutely gorgeous." He crawled onto the bed, pressing kisses up her neck and along her jaw. When he finally reached her lips, he pressed his hands against her body, slipping underneath her shirt and trailing softly across the expanse of her stomach. She gasped at the touch and James reveled in, moving his hands and helping her take the shirt off.
He sat back, taking in her appearance. She stared at him with hooded eyes, drunk with arousal. Y/N was an angel. A bright light in the shadows of darkness that he had hidden himself inside. She was a positive and happy thing in the life that his father had forced on him.
James brought his hands up to his shirt, unbuttoning it until he was able to slip it off and tossed it towards the floor, joining her own shirt. He watched as her eyes immediately moved down to his chest and stomach, taking in the appearance. She raised a hand, reaching out for him.
Taking her hand, she pulled him back on top of her, pulling him back into a kiss. His hands moved up her waist, one wrapping around her back and unclasping her bra. It joined their shirts on the floor. His hands grabbed her boobs, his thumbs rubbing her nipples.
She gasped into his mouth, arching her back as he grinded against her.
"If we are going too fast, we can slow down."
"What if I like it fast?" A low groan rumbled in his chest. He felt her smirk against his mouth, and grinded into her again, instantly turning the smirk into a whine.
Her hands went down and started messing with the buttons to his pants. When it proved a bit difficult, and she couldn't get it undone, she stopped.
"Help, please." James huffed out a soft chuckle, before sitting upright and doing it for her, shucking his pants down his legs as Y/N took the time to take hers off as well. He leaned back down to kiss her again. The kiss was sloppy and heated. James grabbed her thighs, looping them around his waist as he started to grind against her again. Y/N's head fell back against the bed, a low whine falling from her throat as James watched her, taking in her reactions and drowning in him. He wanted to absolutely ravish her.
His head fell into the crook of her neck, enjoying the noises that fell from her throat as he pressed lingering and bruising kisses to her neck and shoulder.
"James." She gasped out. He let out a hum.
"Yes, sweetheart." He spoke between kisses.
"I-fuck" she let out a noise mixed between a gasp and whine when he grinded particularly hard against her. "Need you." He pressed another kiss to her lips before he moved down her body, taking in the sigh she released. James kissed down her body, maintaining eye contact with her as he did so. His lips pressed softly against her stomach, trailing down to her thighs. James let his fingers run over her body, trailing softly and causing her to shiver beneath him, goosebumps forming on her skin.
"I got you sweetheart." He murmured softly against her thigh. His hands looped gently into her panties, pulling them down her legs and tossing them onto the floor as well. James looked up at her, making sure that she was okay to continue, and if the look of pure bliss and arousal on her face wasn't enough to tell him to continue, he wasn't sure what would.
Y/N pulled him back up to her as he slipped two fingers inside of her. He started slowly, thrusting his fingers in and out, letting her adjust to the sensation. She had pulled him into another kiss, this time slower than the first ones. Her arms were wrapped around his shoulders.
One of his hands had one of her legs folded and pushed towards her chest. His thumb rubbed her clit, drinking in the gasps that she let out as they kissed. He leaned into the kiss, putting a bit more force into it as he quickened the pace with his fingers.
When his chest starting to burn, telling him that he needed to breathe, he pulled away and looked down at where his fingers disappeared inside of her. Her own eyes followed his, soft whines and whimpers falling from her lips.
James dipped his fingers down to where his fingers disappeared inside of her pussy, replacing his thumb with his lips. A gasped escaped her chest, and her back arched, a whine getting stuck in her throat and her breathing picked up. James was drowning in her, flicking his tongue against her clit, watching as she slowly became unraveled beneath him.
"That's it sweetheart. Such a good girl." He murmured quietly. After a few more seconds, he pulled his fingers out of her. James scooted up, listening as she whined at the loss. He knew she was close to an orgasm and that he had denied it to her.
"You still want to do this?" he asked. Y/N nodded, and James used his mouth to rip open a condom, sliding it on. He pressed the tip to her pussy, giving her a few seconds before he started to slowly push inside of her. She let out a gasp and he stopped, allowing her to adjust before he continued again, until he was finally all the way inside.
James proceeded to give her some more time to adjust, before he started to thrust in and out. Immediately, he had gotten her to the point where she was before he withdrew his fingers. Soft whines and whimpers escaped her throat and mixed with the grunts and groan that he let fall from between his lips. Her arms wrapped back around his shoulders, and he had looped her legs around his waist.
His head fell into the crook of her neck, groaning at the feeling of her around his cock. James never wanted to leave this moment, especially after he had been thinking about this moment for so long, and it had turned out better than he had previously expected.
"Fuck, Y/N." He captured one of her boobs in his mouth, his tongue flicking over the nipple while his other hand fondled the other. His free hand come down and vigorously rubbed against her clit.
She let out a sharp gasp, her head falling back against the bed, her back arching, and nails digging into his back. He let out a grunt, pulling his face away from her boob to watch as his cock disappeared in and out of her. Her breathing had begun to quicken, her whimpers and whines had turned into soft gasps.
James turned his attention to her.
"That's it sweetheart. You're almost there aren't you? You feel it building up." He spoke softly to her, watching as she nodded, and quickened the pace of his thrusts. He watched her every reaction. The way her eyes clenched shut, her thighs clamped around him. He felt her nails dig into his back, and even if it might hurt in the morning, he didn't care.
And then suddenly she let out a sharp gasp, her eye lids fluttered and then her eyes rolled to the back of her head. She let out high pitched whine, before it was as if she forgot how to breathe. Her body shook and as her pussy clenched around his cock, it threw him over the edge as well. Pleasure filled their bodies as they reached orgasm, their noises filled the air before they finally quieted down, and soft sighs and heavy breathing filled the room.
James threw the used condom into the bathroom trash, and came out with a warm wet washcloth, with the intention to clean Y/N, and after doing so, he crawled into the bed with her.
She immediately scooted closer to him, nestled close to his chest. James wrapped his arms around her, pressing a gently kiss to the crown of her heads. And just like that, the two of them laid in silence, taking in the post coital bliss.
Y/N drew lazy patterns against his chest, when she finally spoke.
"I don't want this to be a onetime thing." James took in what she said, a smile forming on his face as he wrapped his arms tighter around her. His hand rubbed lazily up and down her back, taking in the feeling of her being pressed up against him.
After several moments, he lifted Y/N's face so that she was staring at him. His eyes searched for any signs of a lie in her own, and when he saw none, he pulled her in for a soft and gentle kiss.
"Me too. It was always going to be you, Y/N. I want you, and no one else."
----
@sillyfreakfanparty @honethatty12 @lifeonawhim @ashamedtobewhitemanswhore27 @maryvibess @wheredidmyeyesgo @imasimptoowth @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @benbarnesprettygurl
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teojira · 3 days
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(Planet of the apes) Please can you give me anything about Caesar like head cannons a fanfic anything please I am just in the mood for Caesar :(
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[Assortment of Caesar headcanons]
Summary: Just random headcanons for Caesar x reader <3
Warnings: Monster/Human romance, angst, can't think of anything else!
A/N: Caesar my BELOVED, I hope these are okay anon! You didn't specify if you wanted romantic or platonic so I'll do a mix of both that you can read as either or! I love my man sm
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Caesar is an old man at this point, he's tired. This being said, he is not above pinning you down and resting his entire fucking body weight on you.
You can struggle all you want, you cannot lift him up and you just have to sit there and let him do what he wants. And what he wants is to have 5 minutes of quiet with his favorite human, okay? Let him have this.
Caesar also takes it upon himself to help groom you, parting your hair, scratching at your scalp and checking you for anything, taking your face in his hands and twisting and turning your head every which way.
Very very huge worrier, he worries for you so much and it comes out as anger. He's not mad at you for doing what he seems stupid shit, he's mad because he's scared of you getting hurt and he can't fix it.
He usually won't leave you alone without at least one ape he trusts in the beginning, he's worried about another ape like Koba emerging, so for his sake, please stick around with Maurice.
Maurice loves you by the way, and so does Nova. Since you're immune to the sickness, you're able to freely interact with her, so whenever you're not with Caesar or Cornelius, you're with them.
Caesar watches you alot when you're not looking, especially when you're laughing and smiling with the young girl. It fills his heart with warmth, even more so when you include other apes in on your jokes.
Give him hugs, he'll never admit just how touch starved he is, the only apes he has physical affection with often were Cornelia, Blue eyes and Koba. He won't admit it that he misses it, but he gets a little huffy if you go on to hug Rocket and not him.
You make him feel younger, almost like how he used to be when he was with Will. Yes, he's a leader and he will always predominantly be the collected and righteous leader, but he has his little shit tendencies that come out when he's around you.
I don't care what anyone says, Caesar is asshole at his core, he's just repressed it because he's a leader. He's the kind of person to have a bug in his hand, and gesture for you to open your palm.
"Open your hand."
"...I don't trust you."
"You do trust me, now open."
And then you have a centipede in your hand and you screech and he just smirks and huffs out a laugh.
I've said it before but he is so overprotective, you will not leave the confines of the colony if he can help it.
He knows you're a grown adult, and that you are capable of holding your own but he doesn't care. He much rather have you here when he can keep an eye out for you.
That being said, he will go with you if you're insistent, he has to teach Cornelius how to hunt and fish anyways, so you come with. It's a family day trip:)
Caesar doesn't like guns, but he gives you a pistol, it's a huge sign of trust due to losing his wife and son by them, by being shot by them, and you know he's trusting you with his life.
Speaking of trauma, he littered with it. Sleep doesn't come as easy to him anymore, he's too anxious, to the point you're scared he'll have a heart attack.
The only way you've found that he'll relax enough to sleep is when you and Cornelius are by his side, his arms wrapped around the both of you.
He finds it hard to tell you about Cornelia, especially since you're both teetering on the verge of something more, he feels like he's betraying her, but you reassure him you'll wait for him as long as he needs. Never overstepping any boundary he has.
He loves you, truly he does, he didn't think he could continue on, even with getting everyone to relative safety, but you've always been there, loving not only him, but everyone else around you. He doesn't know what he'd do without you.
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sunchipss · 2 days
Text
’Non-cannon’ ship incorrect quotes pt 2!
Malitae : I have feelings for you. Midas: Why? What's wrong with you? Are you sure you're okay?
Malitae : Okay, but what if we went to dinner not as friends this time? Midas: AS ENEMIES?! Malitae :
Malitae : You got a date yet Midas? Midas: No… Malitae : Well you do now! Get your ass up and hold my hand!
Malitae : Midas, I… Malitae : I love you! Midas: Not my problem.
Malitae : Holding up a pack of pencils These are kinda cute. Midas: Malitae , that’s gay. Malitae : We’ve been dating for 2 years—
Midas: We both look very handsome tonight. Malitae : You know, if you'd just said that I looked handsome, I would have said, "So do you." Midas: I couldn't take that chance.
Midas: Do you love me? Malitae : We’re literally married. Midas: Yeah, but as friends or—
Centross: Are you an F5 key? Because that ass is refreshing. Icarus: Are you a software update? because not right now.
Centross: My hands are cold. Icarus: Here, let me hold them. Centross: My lips are cold too. Icarus: covers Centross's mouth with their hand
Centross: Ugh, crushes are so dumb. Icarus: I know. Whenever I’m near the person I like I just start acting stupid. Centross: But you’re always acting stupid? Icarus: … Icarus: Yeah, don’t think about that too hard.
Centross: Can you cut me some slack, Icarus? I’m sort of in love. Icarus: I’m sorry, but that’s really not my problem. Centross: I’m in love with you. Icarus: blushes Oh. That brings me in the loop a little.
Icarus: What are you in the mood for? Centross: World domination. Icarus: That's a bit ambitious. Centross: You are my world. Icarus: Aww… Centross: Icarus: Centross: Icarus: OH.
Centross: You look good in that hoodie. Icarus: You know where else I'd look good? Centross, zero hesitation: My bed. Icarus, at the same time: By your side- wait, what?
Momboo, trying to flirt: So, you come around here often? Arisanna, confused: I mean, this is my house, so yeah.
Arisanna: Relationships should be 50/50. Momboo cooks us dinner while I sit on the kitchen counter looking pretty.
Arisanna: Let’s watch Sharkboy and Lavagirl. Momboo: Okay. Arisanna: And make out during the scary parts. Momboo: Th- Momboo: The scary parts. Momboo: Of Sharkboy and Lavagirl.
Arisanna: We’re getting married, bitches! Momboo: And we're about to make it everybody else's problem.
Momboo: Look at me straight in the eyes and tell me the truth, Arisanna! Arisanna: You can’t expect me to look into your eyes and be straight.
Arisanna: Valentine’s day is just a consumerist holiday that holds no real value other than drive people insane buying heart shaped chocolates for their significant others and pos- Momboo: I wrote you a poem. Arisanna, already crying: You did?
Arisanna: My future partner must be brave, strong, intelligent, successful and organized. Momboo: steps on a caterpillar and proceeds to drop to their knees and sob while apologizing profusely Arisanna: That one. I want that one.
Momboo: Do you want to explain the text you sent me last night? Arisanna: It was autocorrect. Momboo: Autocorrect wrote "You're so hot. Please step on me."? Arisanna: Yes.
Momboo: Laughs Babe, you had a crush on me? That’s embarrassing— Arisanna: We’re married.
84 notes · View notes
lyrenminth · 3 days
Text
What we could be
Second part of the request about Joe and you getting divorce
Happy ending, second chance
I'm going to send the kids with my mom on Saturday. Would you like to go out and eat something or we stay at the house?"
Truthful to his word, Joe sent you a text. You didn't know what to answer, going out implied many things and you didn't want to be seen with him (harsh but true) but being surrounded by people made you more confident than being alone at his house. You didn't want to think what would happen if you were alone at his house.
"There's a coffee place we could talk privately. Saturday at noon" you answer back.
"Perfect!"
When Saturday came, you were so nervous you messed up your eyeliner twice. You remembered his words. "I never wanted a divorce" Was that really true? You never thought Joe was putting any effort into your relationship after Mackenzie was born. Everything was football and winning. You really try to talk to him, you really did and he wouldn't clear a damn space in his agenda for you.
You sighed, looking at your reflection in the mirror. You remembered the way Joe look at you when Julian mentioned the date.
Would you go back with Joe if he asked?
You didn't know. You loved him, he was the dad of your children but you were so scared. You didn't wanted to get hurt again.
When you arrived at the coffee, Joe was already there. He smiled fondly and stood up to kiss your cheek. Your hands were sweaty when you took your seat. "Should we order something?" He said looking at the menu. "I'm going to order an iced coffee" he stood up before you to set your order on the counter. You watch him interact with the employee, and you felt a pang in your chest. He was lovely, really polite. He would order your coffee like this many times before. Nostalgia hit you like a truck, but you weren't here to remind the sweet times.
When he came back you said a shy thank you and waited for him to sit down. "Well, thanks for coming" he smiled again. "Julian has the same smile at you" you pointed out. His smile grew bigger. "Yeah, the boys told me"
"Well, yes" you gulped, sipping your coffee.
He ran his hands through his hair, one, two, three times. Good to know you weren't the only nervous.
"I mean it. What I said in the house" he said, his eyes big and honest "I'm sorry I've never considered your feelings. I guess being a father made me realize the big responsibility I was carrying, but I completely forgot to be a husband" when you didn't say a word, he continue "I thought that by working more, earning more money would protect my family" he was sad "I never thought it would be the reason of losing it"
"Joe, this is not about the kids. I think you're a great father, and they loved you. This is about us" you sighed, tired of having this conversation "We forgot about ourselves. I tried to arrange dates you didn't show up. We had conversations like this before, I missed my husband and you weren't there so tell me" you voice filled with emotions made you stop for a second "...tell me why I should believe you"
"I-I still love you, Y/N" he confessed, staring at your soul "I want to share a bed, a house or a damn mug with you. No one else. You are the mother of my children and I still care about you "
"You didn't hook up with that reporter a month after our divorce?" you brought up. He pressed his lips and have the decency to look ashamed. "I was hurt, but yeah"
"Well, it was long ago" you realize after the divorce Joe went blank about his personal life. No one knew if he was having dates. It was hard to believe if he didn't.
"I understand if you're afraid, I'm very honest and very clear right now, I want a second chance" he declared, fully confident.
"Joe..." you pleaded, but looking at him felt so familiar. What would happen if you didn't divorce? Your family would be closer, children wouldn't be stressed but maybe you would be miserable, right? You loved him, you still do. Joe had all the respect and admiration on your side, but again you never felt the same support. "I love you, you're a great father but you haven't show me any different"
"Give me a second chance please" his hand looked for yours over the table, and when you felt it so warm and big around yours, your mind was in completely silence. You haven't touch Joe in three years. He was the love of your life, and yet...you were so scared.
At your hesitation, he confessed "I'm sorry to made you feel lonely, I regret it completely. I'm not going to talk about my wishes anymore. And I understand if you say no" he took a deep breath before saying "I'll retire this year"
The new made you flinch in surprise. "What? No? Are you joking?"
"No, I'm not joking. After the divorce I realize many things" he sounded honest.
"But you loved football!"
"Yes, but my body is asking for a rest. And football is not my family, doesn't make me cookies and hug me tight everytime they see me" you were crying at that point. If that's true, things could be so different. "I want you back. You're my wife, I made those vows for you. I love you"
"Okay"
"Do you give me a second chance?" he was grinning full of hope.
"Yes"
"You won't regret it, I promise"
65 notes · View notes
scimagic · 1 day
Text
Pride and Joy (Mr. Puzzles/Bi! Female! Reader)
───── ⋆ ⋅ ⋆ ⋅ ☆ ⋅ ⋆ ⋅ ⋆ ─────
After a conversation about sexual orientation, you ask Mr. Puzzles a bit of a heavy question about himself and realizations ensue.
Happy Pride Month!! I usually try to keep my content as reader neutral as possible (I don't like to assume things that the reader might not be!) but this is more self-indulgent than usual and I hope you forgive me for that! To celebrate this month, why don't I hit my f/o with the bisexual beam? Hope you enjoy!
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"… Puzzles, no offense, like— at all, but do you think maybe you're… gay?"
The TV host sputters in surprise, "I— excuse you?"
"Again, no offense. But to me it kinda sounds like you… haven't really thought about it."
The TV grows silent, no doubt a frown taking the place of his smile. For once—instead of snapping back and waving away such a silly statement—he actually gives it a thought. A sparingly rare one.
He looks away with a nervous hum, shoulders slumping as you walk along the sidewalk. You both keep a slow pace, trying to refrain from tripping as you walk and keep a conversation that is surprisingly much more serious than you anticipated to have.
The leaves of the trees rustle and provide you shadow for your evening walk with your boyfriend, a walk you offered to have as a casual little date. You thought you could stop by stores to shop, or a cafe to sit down, but at the moment— your conversation turned into this. Identity questions, personal preferences, things to better know each other.
But maybe this one was a bit too far...
He was very open about his upbringing, sure, but it sounded like even he didn't know what he liked in people. You suppose that a life like that didn't have much room to explore things about ones self. Let alone explore partner preferences. Hell— you would say you're very lucky to even have had a chance to date him.
Regardless...
You let him gather his thoughts, silently waiting for his response. No use in rushing these type of things, after all. They take time. Otherwise it would be messy for both of you.
Puzzles turns back to the ground below, and like you guessed— with a nervous expression on his screen.
"It's… complicated. I've seen shows about it, but ah… they've never really spoken to me as such. Perhaps some actions… and some… other things— tsk— but! Hah! I mean! Only recently I've been shown the media I consume is not always true to the actual thing so what do I know!?" He sarcastically and painfully exclaims, a view that got shattered to him when you became friends, yet one he's starting to grow out of. He's aware it's for his greater good, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt him still. To be lied to. To know your years of comfort were a lie.
He huffs angrily as he turns away again, shaking his head before glancing back at you.
"Am I..?"
"Are you? Only you can know that for sure, you might know the answer to that already..! You just… haven't realized it yet."
"…"
He grows silent again, nervously fidgeting with the cloth of his gloves.
"Then… maybe?" He shrugs. "I feel… something, yes. But— but I like you too..! As well… If I am— what would that mean for you? For us?" The host frowns, growing even more nervous at the thought of something happening to his first ever real relationship.
"I don't want to let you go just for this!" He waves his hands in front of him, exasperatedly motioning to your situation. You catch one of his arms, hooking it together with your own as you try to gently ground him.
"Hey—! Hey..! No, nothing has to happen to us! You can like both, you know?"
He takes a pause, looking at you as if you just told him the most confusing riddle ever known to man.
"Huh?"
"Yeah! I like both! I like boys and girls. I uh— have a preference for men but I still like pretty girls." You rub the back of your neck, smiling sheepishly at him.
"… Oh."
"Oh…"
The faintest of heartbeats beeps across his screen, tainting it with a light rose color as the line bounces where his cheeks would be.
"Huh… That…" he looks down at the ground with furrowed eyebrows, then looks back up at the horizon, "fits."
"Yeah?"
"Yes… Only— that's not the term, is it?"
"Ah, no. We're bisexual. You and I."
"You and I… Yes… Yes! I like that!" Puzzles beams happily, smiling wide at you as he squeezes your hooked arms.
"I like that very much."
63 notes · View notes
falaihullo · 17 hours
Text
Your beauty never scared me - Charles leclerc x reader
Warnings- none except for bad grammar
Charles has been around many models but none of them compared to y/n.
Y/n and charles had been best friends, so when he got into f1, she was happy for him. going to races until it became hard on her, Deep down he understood but he was hurt nonetheless. His head telling him, "She's supposed to support me every race, she's my best friend " leaving a bitter feeling in him.
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After that conversation Charles gave up on asking her to come to races and started to avoid her.
And the truth of the matter is I never let you go
Y/nofficial
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Liked by LandoNorris, DanielRicciardo, Carlossainz55 and 800,760 others
One of the two pieces I’ve been working on. Second piece’s inspiration left so might not ever get it.
User1: I need to be talented like you
LandoNorris: absolutely beautiful
Y/nofficial: Thank you Lan❤️
User2: YN wym inspiration left???
-User3: that’s what I’m saying
-user4: her and Charles haven’t been seen together in a while…
-user5: maybe they been busy(I’m crying)
Danielricciardo: stunning ❤️
Y/nofficial: thank you Danny❤️
Carlossainz55: Miss you but love seeing more of your art.
Y/nofficial: pick one sir☝️
Carlossainz55: just one race won’t hurt, maybe will bring back your inspiration.
Y/nofficial: soon 🙄
User6: y/n back in the paddock soonn
User7: more y/n Charles content
User8: girl is delusional (me too)
-There was no text or anything from Charles, it’s my fault for not being able to manage my time well but when I’m with him, it’s just easy to forget time even exist.
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Y/nofficial: couldn’t leave you guys hanging while it was almost done. My inspiration changed so I changed the painting a bit. One for my person collection now.
User1: I’m not crying, I’m not crying
User2: WYM CHANGED
User3: did her aesthetics change dramatically?
-user4:yeah…
Carlossainz55: Amazing❤️
-liked by Y/nofficial
LandoNorris: You amaze me❤️
Liked by Y/nofficial
User5: maybe I’m delulu but Y/n hasn’t responded to other drivers
-user6: don’t make me cry (already am)
User7: WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT HOW THAT WAS THEIR HUG WHEN HE WON HIS FIRST GP
-user8:WAIT
-user9: she was working on painting their hug before he ditched…im crying so hard
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The knock on the door interrupts me staring at whatever show was on. Opening the door, I move to side letting him in.
“For you” he says while holding out peonies, taking them from him I walk into the kitchen to set them up.
“I’m sorry for how I acted.” He starts carefully watching as I grab a glass vase.
“Yeah you’ve said you’re sorry but I want to know why instead of talking…you ignored me completely.” I calmly tell him, walking past him with the vase I start shuffling the flowers around to avoid looking at him.
“I missed you”
“You texted me everyday” I reply finally leaving the flowers alone, looking at him.
“I missed having you there”
“I’m still confused” I confessed finally just walking away from him back to where I had been sitting.
“I know, I’m sorry” he pauses sitting down next to me“I just…just have feelings for you so I was overthinking if you actually were working on painting or on a date.”
“Charles you should’ve said something”
“What do you mean”
“The painting I did was of your first F1 win”
“Yeah”
“The picture people took of our hug…” trailing off hoping he catches on soon
“Charles oh my god” I sigh looking at his confused puppy dog eyes, “ I have feelings for an idiot” smiling as he connects the dots. Putting his hand under my chin, he presses his lips to mine.
“I’ve wanted to do that for the past year” he says pulling away.
“Could’ve done it sooner” I reply.
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Liked by Carlossainz55, y/nofficial and 6,300,899 others
Charles_leclerc: Her beauty never ever scared me
Y/nofficial: My love❤️
Carlossainz55: Finally
-danielricciardo: finally
-LewisHamilton44: finally
-charles_leclerc: shut up
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Y/nofficial: You will never walk alone, you can always reach me
Charles_Leclerc: my love why that picture
-y/nofficial: I do what I want
Carlossainz55: finally
-danielricciardo: finally
-lewishamilton44: finally
-landoNorris: finally
-Charles_leclerc: shut up please
A/n: wrote this on my phone but will edit on my pc when I’m home from work
97 notes · View notes
changisworld · 23 hours
Note
Hii, I've got a request in mind, thinking about Hannie but ain't not sure if it fits Seungmin too (that "honey can you bring my towel" scene he acted at that tv show lives rent free in my mind), so it's a first time thing + shy reader + he puts her hand on his hard on (Idk I feel like they give such a sneaky vibe, in a moment you're laughing with him and the next you're underneath him). Steamy make out, dry humping, handjob, whatever you feel more fitting, just pls don't let poor bb with them blue balls 👀
Little note: can I be 🍦 anon? ❤
MY BABY 🍦im so sorry its taken almost 3 months to write this:( better late than never though! i hope it was semi worth the wait<3
i had no idea what you were referring to so i had to go on tiktok n find it n i THINK i know what youre talking about!
Word count;2,760
18+, MDNI SMUT WARNINGS UNDER THE CUT
©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.
main masterlist here.
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SMUT WARNINGS: PIV, whiny hannie, handjob, fingering(f rec), spit, creampie, dry humping, teasing, hannie & y/n are both subby?, slightly nervous hannie, tit play, slight mommy kink
You're currently sitting on your new boyfriend, Han jisungs bed while he showers in his small bathroom connecting to his bedroom & you're just scrolling through tiktok as he belts out whatever song that's playing from his phone without a care in the world.
You've been dating Jisung for around 3 months but you both have agreed that you can both see it going long term, much to both of your happiness!
You've warmed up to Jisung a whole bunch, being a whole lot more shy before meeting him & he was just as much as a nervous person as you are, but you've both brought out the best in one another. But, because you're both a bit more reserved, you've been a bit too scared to make the first move. You've kissed countless times & he has slipped a finger in once or twice, but nothing else past that, him not wanting to push any more boundaries.
You're just watching some of those true crime tiktoks, sprawled out on top of the messy, unmade bedsheets, not realising the shower had turned off until you hearing Jisung kissing his own teeth & groaning.
"Y/nnie? Can you go into my closet n gimme a towel, I've forgotten mine!" Han yells through the door, dragging out the last syllable & you just hum in response before dragging yourself to where he stores his clothes, towels & blankets & grabbing the first one you see.
"Open the door then Sungie!" you cheer, fingers fidgeting with the material. Jisung slowly opens the door & pokes his head out, not wanting to show anything non PG, he pinches the towel out of your hand but doesn't bother to fully close the door over again as he tries to tie it around his waist before awkwardly chuckling.
"Y/nnie, uh, I usually just.. air dry? after showering & I genuinely have no idea how to tie it like how girls do! If you... don't mind could you tie it for me? Or you can just bring me some sweatpants n I can change in here!" He splurges out, almost being able to hear his heartbeat through the door separating you both.
"You'll just stay damp in there since the steam is hitting me in the face, yeah I can.. I can tie it for you." you reply, trying to sound confident. You give him the time to hold the towel around him & you slowly push open the door, the smell of the shampoo & body wash he used still strong in the air.
You give him a smile & a small giggle, which he gladly mirrors & you take the top part of the towel & tightening it before tucking it in, making it stay put without the need to hold it with his hands anymore.
As you do this though, you realise the towel is a bit of an odd size, it being a bit small despite it being wrapped around his tiny waist, showing off his growing bulge through the tight DIY now skirt he is wearing & you can't help but blush.
"Oi! Don't look! I said I don't use towels I didn't realise they're a horrible size!" as he covers the growing tent under the towel, his chubby cheeks going red as his big eyes look at you & you just laugh but your eyes can't stop trailing down to his now fidgeting hands.
"You're so dramatic Sungie, It's hot in a way, you're so unaware it's funny." You giggle, your fingers pinching his cheeks & he blushes even more before his hands move from where they were perched to swat your fingers away, but as he does so, his towel of course begins to slip & you both realise at the same time, your hands & his hands racing to stop it from falling.
Your hands reach the towel first & you grab it & his hands cup over yours & you both realise instantly, you're cupping over his now even more hardening cock, his own hands keeping you there.
You both look up at your hands at the same time then back up at each other, both of your eyes wide open. He quickly removes his hands from yours, but to both of your surprise, you don't move your hands away.
"Y/nnie, you gonna move your hands or what?" he questions, his voice full of shock. You snap back into reality when he says this & your hands whip away from him, holding them up to your chest.
"I'm sorry! I didn't know you wouldn't lik-" you rush out. "hey hey hey! I didn't not like it, I liked it as much as any other guy would! I just didn't think you would be so bold or ballsy I guess?!" he cuts you off, using one hand to hold the towel around his waist as he is waving the other hand around, trying to get his point across.
You blush at what he says & you pause for a moment, but when you can't really think of a verbal response, you give a physical one instead, & you move your hand to lightly cup him again which makes his hips twitch as he looks at you, his jaw slightly open.
You move your hand slightly, getting a bit of a better feel & he instantly gets harder under your touch & he stutters & you just giggle again at him, looking at his features, watching for the reaction he's giving.
"Is this alright, Sungie?" you ask as you take the extra mini step & lean in to his neck & give it a quick peck before looking into his eyes, smiling at his pretty face. "Y-yeah, can we not do this in the bathroom though? ruins the mood, unless you wanna get back in the shower with me?" he jokes, trying to sound confident despite him absolutely freaking out inside.
You nod your head & take his hand & you both walk back into the bedroom & you straddle him once the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed, him flopping down. "Can I.. remove this? We don't need to though, Hannie." you murmur out, cupping his cheeks.
"Mhmm, please, please please." he pleads before he pushes on the back of your head & he kisses you, his tongue not taking long to begin poking into your own. At the same time, you raise your hips just enough so you can paw the towel away, now leaving him bare beneath you, which makes you think your heart is going to come out of your mouth.
You slowly grind over his cock with your covered core in a slow motion as you deepen the kiss, Jisung letting out a small groan at the contact & his hips buck up when you allow a shaky hand to wrap around his already somehow leaky cock & you begin jerking it at a good pace, his lips involuntarily breaking away from yours for a second, drool completely coating his lips & chin by this point.
"This okay f'you?" you tease, his reactions already giving away the fact that it's more than okay, he just lets out another small whine before moving his head up enough to kiss you again, his hips bucking up into your hand & his precum coating parts of your hand, his tip completely shiny.
You grind down on his upper thighs as you jerk him off, your own little pants swapping between your lips as you get a bit, but no way near enough friction for you to fully get off on.
Hans breathing begins to speed up & become slightly erratic & he moves his fingers from the back of your hair & he rests them on your hips, helping you grind, but not long after, he is fiddling with the waistband & you take the hint, you break your lips from his & take the few seconds to wiggle off your pants, leaving you in your plain cotton panties & Jisungs shirt you stole.
Hi big boba eyes, completely blown out, stare up at you in awe & he sits up, his face level with your covered tits. "Can I take this off too, y/nnie?" he asks & the second you give the okay, he gets rid of it before you have the time to blink, letting out a strained grunt at the fact you aren't wearing a bra.
Once you're left in just your underwear, Jisung flips you over so he is between your legs, leaning over you & he basically has his eyes glued to your now pebbled nipples & he has to bite his lip to avoid drooling all over them & you giggle at his reaction, your cheeks going red with a mix of nerves, slight embarrassment from his eyes burning into you & also love.
Jisung makes his way down slightly so he is level with your chest & he simply admires your tits as his left hand now rests on your inner thigh, thumb caressing it.
"Can I touch you, jagi? We don't need to go any further." he asks for reassurance. "Hannie, stop asking, I'm dying for it, please." you respond, your hips jerking up to convince him. He blushes more than he already is & he lets his fingers trail onto your covered core as he runs his finger up & down your slit, making you bite your lip, trying to not moan too loudly.
"Don't silence yourself jagi, don't be nervous, it's just me." he says in a sweet tone as his fingers move your underwear to the side, happy with himself with the wet spot he caused on the fabric.
His fingers begin spreading your wetness on your slit, making sure to prolong an extra few seconds of attention on your clit before he enters one finger into your dripping hole, a small squelch noise being made from it & your back slightly arching off the bed, Jisung not being able to hold back the smirk now spreading across his lips as he lets his lips latch onto your nipple.
"O-oh shit! Sungie, right there." you whimper, your fingers weaving into his hair as you spread your legs a bit more & wiggling your hips, trying to get his finger impossibly deeper.
He decides to add a second finger as he finds your G-spot & your breath hitches in your throat & your eyes scrunch shut, pulling his hair, him moaning into your tit along with you.
You feel your orgasm beginning to build up as you can both feel yourself clenching around his now two fingers. "Sungie, lie down, wanna cum with you." you whimper, trying your hardest to concentrate enough to speak an actual sentence.
Jisung unlatches himself from your tit & pulls his now soaked fingers out of your cunt, much to his displeasure. He crawls his way to the top of the bed & rests his head on the pillows & you are quick to follow behind him, straddling him again before leaning down to kiss him.
"Can I put it inside? Wanna feel you." He pleads, glossy eyes looking up at you as his hands are resting on your waist. "What's the magic word?" you decide to tease, your fingers reaching down to fondle his balls, making his eyebrows furrow & another bead of precum dripping down his cock.
"Pleaseee, mommy please, please let me." he begs, not being able to stop his ears going bright red as his fingers move their way to your ass, kneading the flesh in his hands as his hips keep buck up into you.
You are caught slightly by surprise by the 'mommy' part of the sentence, but you also know it's exactly something he & now also you're into.
You decide to not let him wait any longer as you're also itching for him to fill you up, your wetness leaving a small slick patch of where you were straddling as you raise your hips & Jisung grabs his pretty dick & runs it over your folds, making you jolt, before aligning himself up with your hole & you begin to slide him inside.
You sink down until you can't anymore & you both hiss at the feeling, him already resting against your spongey spot & the warmth of you wrapped around him making his mind spill.
You raise your hips slightly & then sink back down, setting a slow but pleasurable pace as small moans begin escaping your lips, jisungs eyes completely stuck to you, simply admiring you.
Drool escapes his lips & dribbles down the side of his cheek, his tongue poking out his jaw dropped mouth ever so often as you both share moans.
"Yo-you're so tight jagi, mind is n-oh m, fuck." Jisung babbles, his hands helping your thrusts by moving your ass up & down as his hips jerk up to also meet you in the middle, making you squeal.
You place your hands on his shoulders as you begin to quicken your pace, trying your best to ignore the stinging pain in your thighs as you do so.
Jisung sits himself up against the headboard, making sure to not slip out of you as he settle you both in the similar but different position. You begin grinding on his cock & slowly bouncing as Jisung reaches to begin suckling on your nipple again as his fingers begin to fondle your other tit, making you moan.
"Y-you're filling me so well, Sungie" you whimper as your motions find the best spot where his cock can reach & picking up your speed.
Jisung lets out a loud 'uumph' as his tip hits into your soft spot, making your belly go hot inside, but he can feel your speed slowing. Jisung unlatches from your now spit covered nipple & blows some cold air on it before he repositions you both, helping you lay on your stomach & you lift your hips so your ass is in the air for him, which makes him groan.
"Sungie, put it back in, wanna make you cum." you implore, wiggling your ass in front of him to convince him, which works as he swallows a choked moan before lining himself back up with your sopping cunt & sliding back in.
You both let out a moan in unison as Jisung begins to pick up his pace, trying his best to not throw his head back from the new position & angle, looking down at the way your ass ripples every time his hips hit against it & he can feel his orgasm building up instantly.
You both keep babbling, mostly to yourselves, his pace just right so you can't stop clenching, your knuckles turning white from gripping the bedsheets, your cheek pressed against the bed.
"S-sung- I'm gonna c-cum." you yelp, eyes rolling to the back of your head, Jisungs cock got a white ring against the base of his cock, being able to quite literally hear the wetness coming from between your legs.
"S-me too, clenching t-too much, w-wher-" "Inside, inside Hannie." you are quick to cut him off, rushing the words out just in time before your orgasm bubbles over, your legs getting weak & if it wasn't for Jisung holding onto your hips. As soon as your cunt begins to spasm around him, his own release hits him & his cum paints the inside of your walls white, basically squealing as the pleasure washes over him, his bottom lip all puffy from how much he has been biting it.
He pulls out & slowly helps you lay down fully on your stomach before he lets himself flop down too, straddling your ass & his face level with yours.
You both stay like this, him turning his head slightly to kiss your earlobe, his fingers moving the hair out of your face.
"You wanna get back in the shower then?" you murmur, getting your breath back, chuckling.
"I wouldn't mind that, we are sticking to each other, but I wouldn't mind staying like this." he hums back, smiling to mostly himself as he shuts his eyes, inhaling the smell of your skin, your perfume still a bit faint on your skin after all this time.
"n a mommy kink, Sungie? Who woulda thought." you tease, giggling. "Hey! if you liked it then who cares, its hot." he replies, him trying to hide the slight fluster in his voice.
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