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#anyway i know you just want to make me look bad on main so i reserved pic commentary for the tags
caraetdeul · 1 day
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They Can't Take What's Ours
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idol!Yoon Jeonghan x reader
Sometimes, we just need to be reassured in order to survive.
TW: online bullying
a/n: I tried to write for Jeonghan but I don't know if I gave his character justice. But either way, I had fun writing this, especially since I want to make a tribute to Taylor Swift and her newly released album, The Tortured Poets Department. This was also inspired by her song, Ours. Anyways, have fun reading caratdeuls!
~Main Masterlist~
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Hanniemyluv: What did he even see in them?
Jeongcheol4ever: No wonder Jeonghan’s having a hard time lately. I mean, just look at that poor excuse of a person he calls his significant other. They don’t deserve him.
JeongieHannie: HANNIEEEE I LOVE U PLEASE LEAVE Y/N AND JUST BE WITH ME ALREADY
Sighing, you rolled on your other side before hugging your pillow tighter to yourself. You felt a stray tear rolling down your face and landing on the pillow but you made no move to wipe it off. You weren’t typically the type of person that would let a stranger’s words get to you but when you’re already having a bad day so far, they tend to cut deeper than they normally would. You were only trying to relax and put the day behind you while checking out the notifications that you got on your latest post that featured you and your boyfriend on a date night but it only made things worse. You already promised Jeonghan once before that you wouldn’t even try to look at the comments but you just can’t help yourself this time. It was already served on a silver platter before you even got a chance to look at the menu.
That was how Jeonghan saw you once he got home four hours later. It was also a long day for him resulting from a full schedule due to his work as an idol. Now, he just wants to relax his mind and body while cuddling up to you all night long.
Opening the door to your apartment, he took off his shoes one by one before trudging towards the living room. He sat down unceremoniously, closing his eyes for a bit. He called out to you, announcing his arrival, but when he didn’t receive any response after a few minutes, that’s when he opened his eyes wide and alert. It was unusual for you to be this silent whenever he arrived. And it was far more unusual for the apartment to be this dark and quiet every time he got home before your usual bedtime. Music would typically be blaring from the kitchen which will then be accompanied by your singing. He then will walk towards the source of the sound only to find you dancing wholeheartedly to the song while preparing for dinner. But now observing the room, Jeonghan knew that it wouldn’t be a time like that tonight.
He immediately stood up, searching for you in every room before finally reaching your bedroom door. As he neared the door, the sounds of your sniffles and quiet sobs reached out to his ears. Even more alert than before, he called out to you cautiously while trying to contain his panic and overthinking tendencies. He opened the door, slowly revealing your bundled-up figure on your side of the bed. At the sound of the door, you turned towards it. Once he sees your tear-stricken face, he then wonders if you can hear his heart breaking in pieces or if it is just in his mind.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Jeonghan calmly asked sitting at the edge of the bed closest to you. He’s trying his best not to let you hear the panic in his voice knowing that any sign of distress can only make the situation worse. If there’s one thing he learned as your partner for a few years now is that it is best to just let you take your time to gather up your thoughts and just be there for you in any way that you need. And just like any other time, that was what it took for you to finally open up.
You let him pull you into his arm once he saw your eyes filling up with tears once again but it only made you cry harder. You tried to tell him the reason behind your breakdown but all that came out were broken words and hiccups. Jeonghan only shushed your attempts, replacing them instead with reassuring and calming words in your ears. Based on the snippets of your jumbled-up thoughts you were trying to convey as well as your phone facing up and showing a portion of your post’s comment section, he can already tell what happened and it only broke his heart even more. You didn’t deserve any of this hate in any way whatsoever. He then started to plot how he would address this the next time he went live for his fans and the general public.
It took you some time but eventually, you started to calm down. Even then, Jeonghan stayed quiet, waiting for you to start talking while still rocking the both of you.
“I’m sorry.” you sniffed. Jeonghan gently pulled you apart only to make you look at his confused face. 
“What are you apologizing for?”
“For crying all over you,” you pouted. He swears that if you weren’t just recovering from your breakdown, he would coo over how cute you were right now. But alas, this wasn’t the case so he kept his thoughts at bay albeit unwillingly.
“Oh honey,” he sighed, “there’s no need to apologize for that. You know I’m here for you no matter what.”
“I know,” you sniffed, “but you’re already tired enough from practice and you don’t need me to add to your exhaustion. Speaking of, did you have dinner already? I can fix something up for you. I’m sure there’s food in the fridge I can heat up for you. What do you wa—”
Jeonghan put his finger on your lips, effectively shutting you up. You can only slump your shoulders in protest knowing this is his way of letting you know that you don’t get to get away from talking through this with him. Once he was sure you wouldn’t be attempting any escape plans at the moment, he took his finger off your lips and softly cradled your face with both of his hands.
“You do know that I love you, right?” he asked. You nodded in response with a pout but Jeonghan only shook his head.
“That’s not enough.”
“Okay, fine,” you sighed, “yes, I know.”
“No. still not enough.”
“What do you mean it’s still not enough?”
“I want you to repeat after me.”
“Okay?” you answered unsurely.
“Jeonghan, my most handsome and loving boyfriend, loves me.”
You blinked twice, trying to make sure he’s serious. But when you only saw genuine determination in his eyes, all you could do was sigh and follow his words.
“Jeonghan, my most handsome and loving boyfriend, loves me.”
“I am the most beautiful human being to ever grace this planet.”
“I am the most beautiful human being to ever grace this planet.”
“Haters gonna hate so I’m just gonna shake it off.”
“Haters gonna hate so I’m just gonna shake it off.”
“Shake it off.”
“Shake it off.”
“The stakes are high.”
“The stakes are high.”
“The water’s rough.”
“The water ’s rough.”
“But this love is ours.”
“But this lo— are we actually just quoting Taylor Swift lyrics right now?”
“...no.”
You narrowed your eyes at him but he didn’t even budge for one second. You then rolled your eyes before fully repeating the last line.
“See? That wasn’t so hard. Now I need my kisses.”
You shrieked when he pushed you onto the bed and before you knew it, he started showering you in kisses all over your face. You can only laugh over his antics, trying and failing to push him off of you. At the sound of both of your laughter, it was safe to say that the darkness of the night was now ignored by the lightness you both felt in your hearts.
Taglist: @moonwonuu @belladaises
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violet-fluff · 13 hours
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Levi x Drunk! Reader (oneshot)
Safe With You
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Thanks for the request ❤️
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Levi is sitting with Hanji and Mike in the mess hall, having some relaxing nighttime tea and chatting amongst themselves.
Hanji takes note of Levi’s sour mood as you decided to chaperone your gang of brats at the market instead of having your nightly tea routine with him.
“Where’s your little service dog?” Levi asks Hanji with a cross of his arms.
Hanji laughs. “Don’t call Moblit that! He’s sleeping. He’s had a long day.”
Mike snorts and takes a bite of his pastry. “A long day dealing with you.”
Levi smirks and gives Mike a nod of approval when Jean and Connie walk through the main door, arguing between themselves. The two young men freeze when they make eye contact with their squad leaders.
“Captain! You’re still awake!” Connie blurts out, rubbing the back of his head nervously.
Levi’s face stays deadpanned. “Am I not supposed to be?”
Jean chuckles through clenched teeth, “No it’s just that-“
Before he can finish, Mikasa walks passed them with you thrown across her shoulder.
Hanji immediately stands up as she sees her best friend unmoving. “What happened?!”
Armin and Eren walk behind Mikasa to help her lower you on the bench, letting you lay your head on the table.
Mike scowls as he takes in a big whiff of the air near you. “Definitely drunk.”
“Why the hell is she drunk?” Levi glares as he shakes your shoulder to get you to wake up.
Sasha gags. “I wouldn’t do that. She already threw up on me…twice.”
Armin decides to be the one to speak up and give their captain the story. “Well, a vendor was selling wine and offered for her to taste some. One turned into two, two turned into three…and so on…”
Levi grabs his cravat from around his neck to clean the drool dribbling from the side of your mouth. “And none of you decided to stop her?”
“Y/N never takes a break and it looked like she was enjoying it. Besides, we don’t drink, so we didn’t know wine can do this.” Eren tries to defend him and his friends even though he knows punishment will come anyway.
Mike stifles back a laugh. “Don’t be too hard on them, Captain. Y/N’s always been a lightweight.”
Hanji shrugs in agreement. “Yeah, that part is true. I haven’t seen her this drunk in a really long time though.”
Everyone stops talking when they hear you muttering in your unconscious state.
Mikasa tucks some strands of your hair behind your ear and rubs your back. “Y/N, are you ok?”
“Levi…I want Levi…”
Levi sighs and sits next to you on the bench. “I’m right here. Do you feel sick?”
You nod in discomfort and Hanji gets up to grab you some water.
“Try sitting her up. Her head laying down is probably making her dizzy.” Mike suggests.
Jean and Connie help you sit up and Levi leans you against his side. “You brat, why would you drink like that for?”
Hanji comes back with water and you open your eyes enough to grab the glass shakily, but Levi notices some bruising forming on your knuckles.
“What happened to her hands?” He asks as he helps you drink the water.
Jean cringes as he looks at Connie for help, but Connie shakes his head. “Well…” Jean starts, “The wine vendor was starting to get handsy with Y/N, and I’m not sure if it was the alcohol, but she laid a heavy punch to his face.”
“Ha! Didn’t know she had it in her.” Mike laughs but is silenced by Hanji’s elbow digging into his side as she sees anger spread across Levi’s face.
Armin steps forward quickly. “Don’t worry! Nile was actually nearby and saw it happen. He said he will take care of the vendor. Y/N’s not in trouble!”
“That guy…he was…GROSS…” Your speech slurs and you choke as you down more water. “He’s-….he’s lucky Levi wasn’t there! That wo-“ You hiccup, “Would have been…BAD!”
Hanji tries not to laugh, but she wishes there were a way to capture this moment.
Levi raises a brow. “Oh, it would be?”
You let out a hiccuped laugh. “Yeah! He-Levi…he always protects me…” More water spurts from your mouth as you have a hard time drinking from the cup. “That’s why …I-I…like him so much. We should- get…married!”
Everyone’s mouth drops and Mike can’t help but let out a whistle. “Ah, drunken truths.”
Mike is loving this.
Levi side eyes him as he wipes off your mouth. You smile and fall forward into his chest. “I’m tired…”
Levi pats your back. “Did you want to go to bed?”
You shake your head and wrap your arms around his torso. Suddenly, soft snores are faintly heard.
“Well…at least she can sleep it off at least a little for right now.” Hanji says as she smiles at the sight.
“At least she feels comfortable with you, Captain. She didn’t want any of us to grab her.” Sasha said. “When I tried, she just released the contents of her stomach onto me.”
“I’m shocked you didn’t eat it.” Connie sticks his tongue out at her, but she whacks him in the head.
The crew takes this time to grab some trays of left over dinner and sit at the adjacent table to eat. Levi is holding you close and rubbing your back as you snore softly into his shirt.
You stir awake after twenty minutes, head still foggy but conscious enough to start becoming familiar with your surroundings.
You slowly sit up, and when your eyes focus, you see everyone watching you.
“Hey, girly! You alright now?” Hanji smiles.
You grimace and look to your side and see Levi. You are exhausted and your head is starting to pound, so you slide into his lap and burry your face into his neck.
“Did I say you can get into my space, brat?” He whispers in your ear.
You shake your head no. You didn’t care who was watching, Levi looked mighty comfortable to lay on.
He sighs. “How about I take you to bed?”
“Nooo!” You whimper. “I want to stay with you!”
“Ok, I’ll stay but you are going to lay in bed.” Levi hooks an arm under your legs and picks you up.
He gives all the brats a “thank you” for watching over you, and then carries you to his room.
When he gets there, he lays you on his bed and starts taking off your shoes.
“Levviiii…stay here!” You groan out.
He clicks his tongue and rubs your hand. “Why do you want me to stay so bad?”
You burry your face deeper into the pillow. “Safe.” Is all you mutter before passing out again.
Levi frowns as he looks at your bruised knuckles. You were right when you said he would kill that vendor for touching you, and you were right in saying he would keep you safe.
He smiles gently and crawls in bed behind you, pulling you close to his chest as he spoons you from behind.
“You reek.” He says as he buries his face into the back of your neck.
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ipusingularitae · 4 months
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my dad: *telling me i do have socialization deficits, that i need to step out more and interact with people and look like i am part of the environment and that i am "there" and present*
me, knowing damn well i have socialization deficits and feeling overwhelmed in social situations, especially when I don't feel like i fit and when I don't know the other people: ... okay
my dad: did you get upset with me telling you this?
me, dissociating so I don't start crying in front of him: ... no
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what are the chances my dad (known music nerd especially when it comes to bass) would be aware of any of the context or lore around Dark Alley
#like would it be super concerning for me to send it to him and go haha emo song but like I relate to it a lot :')#which I feel like saying that HERE is terribly concerning bc of the Lore (Pete post suicide attempt playing the demo to heychris#and the whole ''way too personal to play live'' thing)#but I don't mean it in a suicidal way at all I mean it in the ''looking in the mirror and not liking what you see'' way#like I suck most of the time. I'm negative and mean and it makes me SO angry that the main solution#is to focus on being grateful bc why should I be grateful when it feels like everything sucks??#and then I blame other people for my own bad behavior and feelings bc I struggle to take responsibility without#trying to explain myself when really I just need to listen and learn from the people trying to help me#and I'm just so so pessimistic and I wish I wasn't. I know I'm a horrible person and my attitude sucks and I hate that#but the LAST thing I want is to die. I just want to be better!! immediately!!! I hate that it's such a slow process!!#I never see any progress!! I just make the same bad choices over and over and then resolve to change again and again#and it just doesn't get better!! I never learn!!! but I want to so so badly!!!#I want to be good and okay and not a jerk to people irl but I hate everything and everything sucks in my perception#and I want SO badly to change that. I don't want to die I want to live and be better!!!!#anyway. how many red flags would it set off if I sent my dad this song
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themyscirah · 27 days
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Started thinking about the Amanda Waller + Ben Turner relationship again.... fuck, I'm gonna need a minute
#I JUST- SHDIAUDJSHDSHEYEYRYRYRY guys. guys#i know none of you see my vision and thats okay. i will make you see my vision. i will force you to see my vision. i will-#like jesus fucking christ oh my god. its so interesting and gives me so many emotions and just!!!#i know im not making sense bc none of my moots are sui sq fans and also like half of the content fucking me up specifically here is in my#head because i cant stop thinking about my absolute power fix it au but like!!!!!!!#also the fact i have a fix it for a comic that isnt out yet is so funny to me. its literally fucking real though. god knows we need it#may my own content carry me through the dark times (extreme villain waller arc)#anyways this fucks me up so bad you dont even know. someday ill actually explain it#dc hire me to write a suicide squad ongoing PLEASE. i could do it so good it would be so fucking good dc PLEASE 😭😭😭😭😭😭#also like this isnt me shipping them btw. like 110% not that. just to clarify.#i wouldnt even call it a friendship bc like. theyre not friends really. he has the most equal dynamic with her i would say but it still isnt#equal. shes v much his boss even though they have an understanding and respect there#like she believes and trusts in him much more than anybody really even himself. like she sees the good man and the leader even when he#doesnt. but she isnt nice about it. and there is a lot of conflict between them when there needs to be#like as much as ben is “wallers man”--the team leader she wanted from the beginning before rick flagg pushed his way in#ben i would say is still a very moral person even when lost and unsure of himself and his goodness (which is like one of his main things)#like i feel like while amanda can lean very into a “the ends justify the means” mindset in her worse moments and do bad things to get#herself out of a corner ben has like a deep and meaningful understanding of how the choices of your methods and how you act can weigh on you#like even though he was brainwashed and whatnot (thats still the story right? i cant remember) he holds a lot of guilt and baggage over his#actions and i think is able to temper amanda's worse tendencies in terms of that by calling her out when he recognizes that behavior#idk. i just really think that amanda waller and the suicide squad as a whole has lost its way without a more moral authority presence there.#like someone who can call her out and keep them more on track. which i really thing ben is and could be#i just very much am interested in their dynamic and how that would look like as equals and how i think they could help each other.#which ofc is what my wip is about and revolves around#blah#sui sq
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zukkaoru · 2 years
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why does hair have to take so much effort. why can i not just snap my fingers and instantly have the hairstyle i want
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lord-squiggletits · 11 months
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Like I'm not one of those story "critics" who will nitpick the smallest inconsistency and call it a plot hole that ruins the whole story. I'm okay with inconsistencies and even the occasional plot hole if it ends up producing a story that's interesting, gripping, and brings up interesting things.
The problem is that suspension of disbelief only stretches so far. And secondly, stuff like character drama and themes are only as strong as the plot that supports them. If the plot is full of contrivances, plot holes, and really stupid things that make it feel like the author is just forcing something to happen to move the story along, then the themes and character drama become much less convincing.
#squiggposting#anyways i do like problematic idw op and i do like it when he has enemies and ppl who don't trust him#but not when the plot to make ppl hate him is stupid as shit and barely makes any sense#or when optimus does something mildly dubious and people act like he personally tortured their families and then murdered them#or like when characters are oddly hostile to OP/the autobots but are perfectly fine working with far worse ppl#like how the humans were all 'fuck the autobots theyre evil' but were fine with helping the cons build a fucking base???#after the decepticons already killed 1 billion humans??? including soundwave who is one of their main liasons???#if the humans really didn't trust the decepticons then why didn't they just say 'fuck you you can't build a base in our solar system'#or like that stupid publicity plot point about how OP 'abandoned' jazz when like.#so you're telling me OP can't defend jazz for killing one. ONE cop in self defense#but it's not bad publicity for him to associate with soundwave who. let me repeat. was literally on the ground slaughtering humans in AHM#spike even knew about how that entire situation with the cop was a trap laid by megtron but somehow that never came up in the whole comic#it's just so dumb man like it feels sometimes more like its an IDW OP hate train and actual logic is secondary to making OP look like an as#also galvs being all like 'that's my boy' when OP annexed earth when galv is a racist boomer grandpa who kills organics for sports#i refuse to believe that guy would be impressed by anything less than OP personally murdering a human. not making them part of cybertron's#gov. you know? it's just silly#it's part of why i've been putting off rereading barber's comics because it was weird and contrived the first time#and i don't really want to put myself through rereading it again just to have to suffer through shitty plot again#so many things in that series couldve been genius if they were written in a plot that wasn't aggressively mid tier
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todayisafridaynight · 11 months
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'im gonna sleep' he lied
#snap chats#i love making the main text Bullshit and then putting the actual post below. ive said this before but idc its my art#its like... the main text is the title and the tags is the actual article.... does that make sense#i should sleep my eyes are heavy but im being tormented by concepts i want to execute#gotta apologize for all the arasawa posting as of late but ive been enabled#tbh on the lowest of keys i did post bout them on occasion in the past but. but now it's feel-speed ahead#twt has been driving me insane so i just need to hop aboard me other boat yk what im saying... please say you do i refuse to elaborate#for the sake of the people i wont but man if you know you know#anyways. the actual meat of this text post See All That Preamble Shit is meant to deter people. it is a warning#'i am bring cringe down here do not look. wait for it to be art so it's harder to ignore'#'snap i thought you didnt like sharing things if you were gonna do something with it' ok well the delusions are strong tonight#and im too tired to do anything and ill prob be too brain dead to do anything tomorrow LET ME SPEAK#ok cringe time. i just think jo gradually accepting physical affection can be something so personal and good SUE. me.#and when i say 'gradually' it will be ten years before he accepts it and even so it'll be quietly#i think by his 20's hes beyond flinching/wincing at random contact- or at the very least he's very good at suppressing the reflex to#more so if its not something like a handshake- like just casual contact- i imagine he's more confused than anything#i had friends who were obsessed with like. hugs and holding hands and those things always had me like ???#i imagine Same Shit for him ☠️ 'this isnt a bad thing but this isnt something im familiar with What Is???? this feels weird.'#im gonna make myself throw up thinking anymore about this. i be making these hardened yakuza men sweet and sentimental#twitter really is decaying my brain....#let me be worse. cause i hope arakawa introducing that sort of physical affection rubs off on jo. no where near the same level as arakawa#but itd be SOO funny if like.. jo starts walking close enough to occasionally bump shoulders with him#i hope when arakawa starts nodding off in the car and ''''accidentally''' lays his head on his shoulder he stops tensing up#heaven forbid jo even rests his cheek against arakawa. id be ill#Let Me Clutch My Pearls For This One i hope when they hold hands jo starts to hold arakawa's a lil tighter than he used to#just very /very/ little things like that. very little things that'll still make me insane I'M DELU-LU TONIGHT SORRRYYYYY#expect more of this bullshit but. in art form in the future. whether it writing or drawing idk i just need it#i need it injected right into my veins its my weakness your honor TAKE ME AWAY i AM guilty for making the scary gangsters cute#ok im pissing off fr now bye.
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niuxita21 · 1 year
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(✿ ♥‿♥) Drunk!Mariana Edition
Bonus: The adorable way she looks at Ana while trying to comfort her as best she can in her sleepy drunk state
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mallowstep · 2 years
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sorry i have not been posting v much lately: i wouldn't say i'm going through it as bad as i was earlier this year, but i took a hiatus from writing (who knows when???) and haven't picked up the pen since. i'll return eventually, almost definitely, as i have full intentions to, but it might be a while before you see something from me.
i don't have a reason, i'm just kind of floating through spacetime atm.
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neo-nomatrix · 11 months
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(My) Nuisance
Hobie brown x reader
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word count: 964
find the rest of the mini series here
synopsis: You thought you hated Hobie, but for some reason you’re starting to like him just as much as you like Spiderman.
a/n: (maybe too much) british slang used
You hate your next door neighbor. No, no you loathe your next door neighbor. You think he is the worst person to possibly exist. His stupid flat decorations, his loud punk-rock music blasting at unruly hours, the way he would come back to his flat at 4 am stomping his boots yelling with his friends about their latest anarchist protest. But you hate nothing more than the way he looks at you.
Everytime you try yelling at him he opens his door with the cheekiest grin on his face. While you’re standing there fuming he’s leaning against the door panel looking you up and down. The worst part is how much he tries to smooth talk you.
“I already told you how annoying your music is, no one wants to hear that at 3 am alright? Some of us have work in the morning,” you complain, smoke practically coming out of your ears.
“Oh c’mon love it’s not that bad. Don’t have to be such a tosser ‘bout it. It messes up that pretty face of yours,” he says.
“Are you daft? You’re the one keeping everyone up at night with your dumb guitar,” you roll your eyes.
“It’s not that big a deal sweetheart. Y’know i'm starting to think you’re making up rubbish just so you can talk to me more. I’ll admit it’s pretty cute but you could just ask me out,” he leans closer to your flushed face.
“I don’t fancy you if that’s what you mean,” you scoff.
“Not saying that. I’m saying if you wanna snog me so bad you could just say so,” he shrugs.
You could burst out laughing. Kiss him? That’s fucking hilarious.
“You’re joking right? i’d rather die.”
“I don’t believe in comedy, love,” he says.
“Of course you don’t,” you mumble as you storm off back to your door.
You’ve decided he is the worst person ever. He doesn’t deserve your efforts and time.
You set your keys down and fall into bed as you hear amp feedback and the sounds of Hobie strumming his guitar. You can’t help but roll your eyes. How could someone be so incompetent?
You reach your hand over to where the bed and the wall meet to grab your Spiderman plush. You hate to admit it because it’s kind of dumb but you’ve always loved spiderman. Ever since you were a little kid you collected posters, figures, pins, and merchandise having to do with the superhero. Even now, your walls are decorated in spiderman posters, you own spiderman clothing, and even printed your keys to have a blue and red spider web on them.
There was something so nostalgic to the vigilante and his style that you had to adorn your room with touches of blue and red. You thought spiderman was the embodiment of “cool.” From his suit to the way he acted around criminals to the electric guitar on his back. Sure, a guitar was the main thing you hated about Hobie but Spiderman did it better. He made it work in the way Hobie dreams of.
You wake up to the loudest knock on your front door you’ve ever heard. You immediately know it’s him. You try to ignore the blaring pounding coming from your door but it keeps going. You force yourself to get up and answer the door. You hope you can open it, yell at him, then go back to bed.
To your dismay the second you open the door Hobie places his hand on the top of the wood, stopping you from moving it anywhere else.
“What do you want this early?” you groan.
“It’s like 9 am, love. But anyway-” He cuts himself off before finishing his sentence. You’re too groggy to notice that he’s staring inside of your flat. His eyes search the walls and decor in front of him.
“So, I take it you like Spiderman?” He laughs.
“That’s none of your business,” you sigh, crossing your arms.
He pushes his way inside of your flat, moving around like he’s looking for buried treasure. He picks up memorabilia and smiles at them. He holds up a Spider-Punk figurine and turns towards you.
“Spider-Punk huh?”
“Don’t touch my stuff! You know this is technically breaking and entering,” you scold him, taking the figure out of his hand.
He puts his hands in his pockets and just smirks at you. That stupid smirk, displaying half of his teeth and perfectly showing his lip ring.
“What do you want from me, Hobie?” you question after placing the figure back on its stand.
“Jus- Just wanted to apologize for last night,” he starts.
“You mean this morning? We talked at 1 am, remember?” You say, passive aggressively.
“Right, whatever. You’re… You’re right,” he exhaled, “I shouldn’t be blasting my music that early. It’s inconsiderate and rude to the people in my vicinity,” he breathes.
In the time you’ve known him you don’t think you’ve ever heard him say sorry. You’re taken aback, did he really apologize? And did he sound genuinely sorry?
“Oh, oh uhm thanks,” you sat, still skeptical a camera crew would come out laughing saying this whole thing was a prank.
“I wanted to see if you maybe wanted to come to my show tonight? We could get dinner after or whatever you want,” He scratches the back of his neck, he’s nervous.
“I’d like that, I guess,” you reluctantly say.
“Wicked. Uhm, i’ll be leaving then. Sorry again,” he says. Shooting finger guns at you and making his way out the door.
You smile, maybe, just maybe, Hobies getting to you. As he’s leaving you could swear you see some blue and red material with spikes on it slipping out of his pocket.
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Paying For Someone Else's Mistake - Logan Sargeant
Request from @monacosprince - tbh i’m so mad and williams for what they’re doing to logan! can you please write a fic where logan is upset and self doubting over the situation and reader helps him???
Ngl reader is going to be an angry, overprotective little girlfriend in this. If you don't like that vibe, I'm sorry but I feel like Logan needs a girlfriend who will stand up for him when he's feeling down. She's a little bit...bad-tempered shall we say. We are also going to feature bestie!Oscar being a good friend bc despite popular belief I'm sure he's there for Logan to make sure he's ok.
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When it comes to dating Logan, y/n is not afraid to use her voice where Logan might try to be quiet. He's got an image as a patriotic America but he's such a soft soul and so isolated as a driver on the grid. Y/n can't help but let a more protective over him.
Y/n and Logan started dating towards the end of the season last year. She's been his main support system in giving him the confidence her gained back after losing it so much last season. He absolutely adores her and he would do anything for her. But she does a hell of a lot in return for him and he's given a lot of credit to her publicly for everything because he isn't ashamed to admit that she's genuinely that amazing to him.
"Hey, I was wondering where you'd got to." Logan smiles as y/n appears in his drivers room ahead of FP1.
"I always here when you need me." Y/n states brightly moving to kiss him. "How you feeling?"
"Good. Have you been enjoying the sun? You're warm." Logan comments making her laugh a little as he places the back of his hand to her cheek.
"Yeah, it's nice out. Before we go to Japan we should get ourselves down the the beach for a day or something." Y/n grins before Logan's trainer, Ben appears smiling at the two. "Time to go?"
"Time to go." Ben confirms making her gesture for Logan to go ahead, but he links their hands and pulls her with him as Ben leads them.
-
Y/n felt bad for Alex. She knows Logan has anxiety about crashing and causing damage to the car sometimes means he plays it on the safer side or if he does push himself like he wants to and it doesn't work out, then she makes sure he remembers that everyone makes mistakes. Even Max managed to give his floor a beating today.
Obviously y/n isn't involved in the debriefs and meetings following practices but James and the team need to talk with the boys about a problem.
Ben appears before Logan does and he looks like he's just been kicked in the stomach.
"What's going on?" Y/n frowns but before he can answer, Logan appears looking disheveled and like he's been trying to stop himself from crying. "Baby? What's happening?"
"Nothing. I'm tired, just want to get out of here." Logan states which raises alarms anyway because Logan is never that eager to leave. Even tired and jet lagged.
"Probably best to go back to the hotel and rest." Ben confirms making y/n's frowns deepen. They're not telling her something and she doesn't like being kept in the dark.
Logan all but rips his suit off as if it's burning him to wear it and actually he does tear his fireproofs in the rush to get them off.
Y/n has to bite her tongue to not demand an explanation. She feels like she's sort of on the verge of stomping her foot like a toddler and shouting for someone to say something. There's nothing more upsetting than seeing Logan so upset.
They finally get out and when they do, they pass Oscar who stops them to talk to his long term friend.
"Hey, mate. How's it going?" Oscar smiles, him in a good mood since it's his home race.
"Hey, sorry man. We're just heading off to the hotel. Y/n doesn't feel well." Logan lies annoyingly well, but his tone is tight and strained which makes Oscar's gaze flick to y/n.
"Sorry, you feel better y/n. I'll see you tomorrow mate." Oscar nods but Logan is already tugging her away and the questioning look on Oscar's face making her shrug in a silent conversation.
Whatever has happened, Logan doesn't want to talk about it. At least not right in this moment. In fact they get to the hotel and she's given a kiss before he mumbles that he's going to shower.
Y/n huffs sitting down with a frown before she decides to change and order room service. Which actually arrives before Logan comes out the shower. But when he does she decides to finally force it out of him, whether she has to poke him into a corner to do it.
"Logan, please tell me what's going on." Y/n pleads deciding to try the softer approach since his eyes are bloodshot and it's obvious he has been crying in the shower. He'd never want her to see it because he hates the idea of her seeing him in such a weak position. "I can't help you if you don't tell me."
"James decided to give Alex my car...they don't have the parts to repair his and he wants Alex in the race." Logan states clearing trying not to choke on his words.
"He what?" Y/n frowns actually retracting back in disgust and trying to figure out if she really just heard him wrong. "Say that again."
"Baby-"
"No. No. That's-That's not ok. What the hell?" Y/n frowns getting up and beginning to pace. "Was I watching the wrong car when I saw a driver send a Williams into the wall? I don't remember you climbing out the smashed up car."
"Baby, it's-"
"Don't you dare say this is ok. This is not ok. I-" Y/n cuts herself short about to say something that would only add to his upset which is pretty visible really. "You deserve better, Logan. They have no right to do that."
"I know. But they've done it for the better of the team. I understand. Alex is the stronger driver-"
"Alex sent his fucking car into a wall! No other team would do this. If he can't keep his car on the track knowing the team doesn't have the means to fix it. Then that is not for him to get to continue! It is not your mistake to pay for." Y/n snaps not angry at Logan but she can't contain it. She softens a little, her body unable to fight the instinct to hug him tightly. "You are worth so much more than how they treat you."
Logan sighs resting his chin on top of her head as she rests in on his chest.
"I just need you right now." Logan whispers making her close her eyes hoping to prevent tears that are building.
Y/n hates this. Right now she'd go as far to say she hates the whole team for hurting Logan like this.
"We can eat, get in bed and cuddle?" Y/n offers moving her head back to look up at the blonde. "Yeah?"
"Sounds good." He nods managing a ghost of a smile.
-
Logan's alarms came and went. He's awake but certainly in no rush to get out of bed, favouring lying his head on y/n's stomach while she plays with his hair.
"Would you stay with me if I lose my seat before the end of the season?" Logan asks breaking the peaceful but cold silence between them.
"Don't even talk like that." Y/n mutters trying to keep her voice void of the anger that it's verging on the edge of. "You are not going to lose your seat before the end of the season and even if you did-which is not going to happen. I would never leave you because of it...I would never leave you if you gave me the choice. Full stop."
Logan only responds by turning his head to hide his face against her skin.
"Logan..." Y/n tries, swallowing thickly at the knowledge he's hurting in such a way.
She tried not to think much of him deciding he doesn't need to be in any rush to get to the paddock. But he did reach over and put his phone onto do not disturb after the alarm and it seemed to starting going crazy. People had definitely tried to call, he was meant to be in.
"We can't stay here forever." Y/n whispers rubbing her hand through his hair but he doesn't reply.
So instead of pushing, she just remains quiet and gives him the time she knows he's silently asking for.
After another 15 minutes of just playing with his hair. She keeps herself quiet when he finally shifts up and looks at her, but he quickly kisses her softly and smiles at her but it's forced.
"Are you practicing smiling with me?"
"Apparently not if you have to ask." Logan sighs then sitting up. "I just want to stay here with you."
"I know. I don't think anyone would blame you for not showing up today. Or even just saying you want to fly over to Japan."
"You think?" He asks looking slightly amused but not quite enough for it to reach his eyes.
"Well I'd understand and I'm the only one who matters here." Y/n smiles earning a small laugh. "I love your smile...don't let them ruin your smile today."
"For you, I'll keep smiling." Logan promises making her smile and move to kiss him.
And just like that they're up getting on with the day.
When they get to the paddock the level of support for Logan is overwhelming, though y/n actually had already found the support for her boyfriend online was insane. A little harsh on Alex, though maybe initially she'd felt like finding a car to run over the rebuilt F1 car and destroy the second chassis to make a point.
Logan doesn't really see Alex but y/n couldn't promise not to be slightly cold towards him.
It wasn't Alex's decision. James made the decision.
But it's Alex's crash, so she holds him somewhat at fault for this. Even if it's more on the team's completely unacceptable state of not having spare parts like the spare chassis they need.
"You're not smiling." Logan comments making y/n lift her eyebrows quickly from how deep they'd furrowed.
"Just thinking." Y/n mumbles before managing a smile at him as he relinks their hands. "I like seeing them show you all the love you. I think you needed to see that people are here for you."
-
Y/n doesn't know if she's spent so much of her life straining herself from punching people in the face. She'd happily use most of the Sky Sports commentators as target practice.
Her mum would scold her for such violent thoughts. Hell if Logan could read her mind then he might even try to settle her fiery urges.
She's flexed her hands more times to try and unfurl them from the tight fists she'd held them in for the better part of an hour.
She's not even been watching the screens. Only focusing on Logan while he stands with engineers.
Only once they're out of the garage when practice is when she discover fans saw her on broadcast and have duped her as Logan's "scary dog privileges" and apparently fear for Alex or James to cross her.
"Fantastic." Y/n mumbles walking around the paddock only to find herself caught in Oscar's company and he looks pretty amused.
"You look like you might be ready to knock someone down with a headbutt." Oscar comments making her hum. "How's he doing? I haven't got to talk to him?"
"Better now he knows the amount support he's getting." Y/n sighs while crossing her arms. "But he doesn't really want to be here. He'll probably leave early."
"I don't blame him. I get it, but-"
"No. It wasn't his crash to pay the price for." Y/n cuts in not standing for a second of it. "I'm sick of seeing people try to justify it. If one more person tries to say that it's understandable but not fair, I'm going to knock them down and stand on their windpipe till they're blue."
"Every time we talk I'm happier and happier that I'm on your good side." Oscar comments earning a small smile that in different circumstances would've been a laugh. "I'm glad Logan has you...It took him a long time to find you, but you perfectly balance him out. I think he needed someone who so...loyally defends him."
"People talk shit about him constantly. Then this happens...How is he supposed to stand by a team when they publicly humiliate him like this?"
Oscar only looks at her in sympathy.
"Anyway, I don't want to bring down your mood for your home race...you're looking really good out there." Y/n smiles lightly trying not to be a completely moody bitch.
"Thanks. If there's one race I want to go well, it's the home race."
"Well I have faith in your capabilities to make that happen." Y/n smiles before she swallows. "I'll be rooting for you to take pole in qualifying."
"That might be pushing it." Oscar chuckles but she shrugs and just leans over kissing his cheek with a one armed hug.
"I'll still be rooting for you, I'm going to go be a moody bitch elsewhere."
"I know Logan appreciates it."
Y/n sighs moving through the paddock frowning at cameras focusing on her and burning some holes through any sight of Sky commentators. No doubt that will be clipped and posted soon enough.
By the time she sees Logan briefly before qualifying, she finds he's with Alex.
"Hey, y/n." Alex greets seeming to try to be his usual friendly self but he's met with a cold shoulder.
"Alex."
"What y/n means is...happy birthday." Logan smiles linking their hands and squeezing hers in a push to be nicer but she only shoots a fake smile to the older man.
Alex makes a quick excuse of needing to get ready before he leaves while Logan sighs turning to her with a look that is supposed to make her feel guilty.
"I don't feel bad." Y/n states making Logan sigh.
"I know you're being protective. But you can't make Alex the enemy." Logan smiles sadly while tucking some strands behind her ear. "You know I love you...and I love that you're upset for me. But you can be nice to Alex...especially on his birthday."
"I'll consider it." Y/n murmurs earning a smile from the American since he knows she's still just being hesitant because she's upset.
"He was saying he will had to tread carefully after seeing the clips of you in practice." Logan smiles earning a small smile before he gently cups her face. "It's just one weekend."
"I know."
She hopes he's right. Though she's seen James talk about them "hoping" to have a chassis ready for Japan.
But that's a problem for another day.
"How are you feeling?" Y/n asks making Logan look at her for a moment.
It reads on his face. He can paint a smile on but damage goes deeper than skin deep.
"It still hurts. But it's my hurt to feel."
"You know asking me not to hurt for you is like asking me to just stop caring."
This decision is damaging to the team. It's damaging to Logan's confidence. If Alex fails to get even 1 point, it's damaging to his reputation. But for y/n, she knows that regardless of what's said, and regardless of how James might try. This is going to stick with Logan possibly long after he's out of the team.
Y/n hates that someone has the power to hurt him like that and did hurt him like that. James used that power and swung it like an axe into Logan's side, whether he wanted to or not that's exactly the damage that's been done. But the only thing y/n hates more than that, is she hates that she can't fix it.
"I'll try to be better." Y/n sighs making him smile lightly and pat her.
"That's all I ask."
Y/n grunts a little still not being able to stop herself from voicing her disapproval.
"I love you." Logan smiles lightly then gently kissing her.
"I love you too."
"Alright, let's get moving. And please try not to look like you might bite James' ear off if he gets too close."
"No promises that I won't bite his ear off if he gets too close. At least if I look like I'm going to do it, he'll not risk coming too close to me."
Taglist: @namgification @hiireadstuff @jsjcue @geniusalpaca @itsjustkhaos @llando4norris @partyinpitlane @lpab @xoscar03 @harrysdimple05 @mellowarcadefun @cixrosie @scopeiguess
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buckys-lover · 10 months
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Dile (Cuéntale)
miguel o’hara x spiderwoman!reader
song inspo: dile by don omar + playlist
main masterlist // nsfw masterlist
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word count: 4.5k
summary: Miguel gets jealous of your relationship with Peter. He’s on a mission to prove he’s better.
warnings: SMUT (18+), minors DNI, porn without much plot (I need him carnally), jealous/possessive miguel, biting kink (pretend his bites aren’t paralyzing y’all), miguel being a munch!, unprotected sex (pls be safe irl), overstimulation? (he makes you cum a lot), creampie/breeding kink, dirty talk, operating under the assumption they’re both nude under their suits, Spanish (I’ll put translations in a reblog), mutual pining/a confession!?, way too many italics bc I need to emphasize everything.
A/N: this was just supposed to be a short concept piece…and it ended up taking me three weeks to write bc I just kept adding more. anyways, felt weird to write miguel speaking spanish if the reader doesn’t understand so this is technically latina!reader // as always, feedback is greatly appreciated, reblog and lmk what you think! <333
Translation Reblog
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You’re coming back from a successful mission with Peter (Spiderman 9411). You were able to stop and capture an anomaly, a variation of Doc Ock, and send them back to their original universe. Upon your return, you make your way to HQ to brief Miguel on what happened. Everything was going fine. You and Peter were laughing and joking around together while giving report, just having a good time.
Meanwhile, Miguel was watching you both intently, narrowing in on the way that Peter casually touches you, the way he looks at you, the smile that reaches his eyes when he’s around you. Miguel was always suspicious that there was something going on between you two. A week ago, his suspicion was confirmed when Lyla mentioned that you two slept together (even though you made her promise not to tell anyone). And he couldn’t stand it.
He keeps his tone clipped and cold. Simply saying you did a good job before dismissing you. You and Peter turn to leave, but Miguel speaks up, telling you to stay behind. You don’t think much of it; after all, you were one of the few people Miguel was close to. Maybe he just wanted to discuss something unrelated. You tell Peter to head out and you’ll catch up with him later. The doors shut behind him, and you can hear them lock. The room is silent except for the occasional beeps and replays of other missions on the screens. Miguel doesn’t say a word as he steps off the platform and walks toward you. Tension lingers in the air as you face each other.
He's the first to break the silence, “What’s going on with you and Peter?”
You’re a bit taken aback, confused about where this was coming from, “What are you talking about? We’re just friends.”
He shakes his head in frustration, “No me mientas cariño; I’m not blind!”
“Miguel, no sé de que estás hablando.” But you do know. And it’s becoming evident that Lyla snitched on you.
“Don’t play dumb.” His voice hardens, and he comes closer, “Answer me.”
You’re starting to get fed up with his attitude. What you and Peter do is none of his business, and you place a hand on his chest to try and push him away, but he’s firm in place.
He grabs your wrist and leans down, a harsh whisper in your ear, “Tell me, what does he have that I don’t?”
It hits you then, and you pull back, narrowing your eyes at him, “Estás celoso?” You scoff in disbelief when you finally take notice of his jealousy. You honestly want to laugh, but the look on Miguel’s face lets you know that’d be a bad idea.
“You didn’t answer me.” He huffs.
You decided then to stoke the flames, “Let’s find out.” Maybe he’d finally cut through the tension and get to what you know you’ve both been craving.
Your heart races as the tension between you reaches its peak. With a daring glance, you take a step closer to Miguel, bodies almost touching. Your eyes lock, and the air crackles with anticipation.
You take in the way his pupils dilate at your words as he leans in, your lips mere millimeters apart, teasingly close. “Tell me you want this as much as I do.” He murmured, voice heavy with need.
His admission sends shivers down your spine. Your breath hitches and your heart hammers against your chest. You've wanted this for a long time, and nothing's stopping you now. You wrap your arms around his neck and close the remaining distance between your lips. Mouths colliding in a passionate and urgent kiss, all your pent-up desires finally unleashed.
Your bodies mold together as your tongues intertwine, exploring and tasting each other with a fervor born of longing. Miguel's hands find their way to your waist, pulling you even closer while your fingers weave through his hair, tugging gently.
Breaking the kiss, your heavy breaths mingle in the air, eyes locked with an intensity that speaks volumes.
"Don't hold back, Miguel. Enseñame. Show me you're better." Your thighs clench when you hear his growl in response.
Your lips soon meet again in a hungry, passionate kiss, igniting a fire that has been smoldering for far too long. As your bodies press against each other, your hands begin to explore, tracing the contours of each other's forms. Miguel's touch is possessive, his fingertips leaving a trail of tingling sensations on your skin.
You’re backed up against the console as Miguel's lips descend upon your neck, trailing a path of fiery kisses along your skin. He revels in the soft gasps that escape your lips.
He lifts you and lays you down; you can feel the coldness of the metal through your suit. His lips are still on your neck, and you can feel the sharp point of his fangs against your delicate skin. Without warning, he bit you, drawing blood. You gasped at the sensation, feeling his tongue soothe over the bite marks that were already beginning to heal.
“Your biting kink is showing.” You tease, still enjoying the residual sting of it.
“I don’t have a-- shut up.” He growled the words into your neck before biting you again. It was obvious that it was something he enjoyed. A way to mark you up and make it clear who you belong to now.
“Te ves tan hermosa así.” He whispers as he pulls away, eyes glued on your neck, giving a hum of satisfaction over the way you look after he’s staked his claim on you.
You watch him as he brings his hand to your collarbone, tracing the marks gently with his claws before he hooks it under the neck of your suit. You hear it first. The sound of the threads tearing before the feel of cool air.
He ripped your suit. He ripped your fucking spider suit. “Miguel!” The shock evident in your voice as he’s practically torn the suit off your body. He meets your gaze, showing no signs of remorse for what he just did. “No te preocupes preciosa. I’ll make you a new one, a better one.”
You huff at his words; you really liked that suit. But your protest quickly dies down the moment you feel his lips on your bare chest. He’s taking his time with you, marking you up as much as he possibly can. Lips latching onto your nipple, tongue swirling around and sucking while his hand gives attention to your other breast. Your back is arching, trying to get as close to his mouth as possible, reveling in the feeling of him sucking and nibbling your sensitive skin.
“Love these fucking tits.” He whispers against your skin as he holds them in his hand, loving the softness of them and how you react. You need him desperately as his kisses and bites travel further down your body. You’re squirming under his touch, and once his lips meet the apex of your thighs, you buck your hips up into him. Your fingers make their way into his hair, tugging him so he places that sinful mouth where you need him most.
“Por favor Miguel,” You can barely think straight with the way he’s looking at you. “Necesito…” Your words trail off. He looks at you, a teasing glimmer in his eyes, “Qué necesitas?”
You groan in frustration, tugging his hair again to show him what you mean. He just shakes his head at you, not willing to budge until he hears you beg for him. He’s waiting. Patiently. You know Miguel, and he’d wait forever just to prove a point.
You finally give in, “Miguel, please, need you so bad.” He tilts his head, still waiting expectantly; he needs to hear more. He needs to hear how desperate you are for him.
“Ay por Dios! Miguel, I can’t wait any longer. Please- need you…need your mouth. Anything!” You’re whining at this point, and can’t believe how pathetic you sound. But it was enough. That’s what he needed to hear before finally giving you what you craved.
He has your thighs tight in his grip, spread apart in front of him. You meet his hungry stare as his lips latch onto your pussy, sucking at your clit. Your hips buck up, grinding onto his face as a needy moan escapes your lips. He groans, enjoying the pressure, tongue lapping up your juices.
“Tastes so good, so fucking sweet~ could eat you for days…and so wet; todo para mi, amor?” He’s on a high, whining the words into you. Craving you and the way you feel with his mouth on you, trying to keep you close as possible.
Your thighs begin to tremble, and you try your best not to crush his face. He takes notice and shakes his head. His grip tightens and presses you closer to him as if he wanted to confine himself in the slice of heaven you carry between your legs. And, God, it feels good. He’s watching you, observing the way you toss your head back in pleasure, how your free hand tries grasping at anything to ground you, the way your body shivers at his touch; he’s learning your every movement, committing your body to memory.
"Need you, such a good fucking pussy- so good…eres mía, solo mía.” The sounds he makes are obscene and he’s rambling, showering you in praise while drunk on the taste of you.
You’re squirming against him, not much movement granted as large hands are holding you down, eating you like a man starved. As if he’s on death row and you’re his last meal, and you’re not sure how much more you can take.
“Miguel~” Your voice strained, barely able to speak and tell him that you’re close, so embarrassingly close.
“C’mon, be a good girl ‘n cum for me.” He encourages, tongue flicking at your clit to bring you closer to the edge. You gasped as you felt Miguel running a finger up and down your slit, teasing you before working their way inside your weeping cunt, curling up and hitting that spot inside that has you seeing stars. Your grip is still tight in his hair, thighs quivering as your orgasm washed over you, the sensation rippling throughout your whole body.
You’re vaguely aware of Miguel pulling away as you’re coming down from your high, blissed out and hazy. It felt like you ascended to the heavens. In your daze, you look at him, noting the arrogant smirk on his face and his fingers glistening in the dim light, covered with your juices. He holds your gaze as he brings his fingers up to his mouth and sucks them clean, moaning contently at the taste of you.
“I’m guessing Peter could never make you feel this way, huh?” He’s right, and he knows it. But you couldn’t help but want to push his buttons.
You hum in response, “Mm, he was pretty good with his tongue too.” Teasing, waiting for him to react. And you see it; the way his body language changes in an instant at your insinuation.
He sneers at you, baring his fangs and gripping your chin to look him in his eyes, glowing red with anger, “You better watch your fucking mouth, sweetheart.”
“Or what? Qué vas a hacer Miguelito?”
Miguel narrows his eyes at the provocation, a dangerous glimmer in his eyes. “Ten cuidado, preciosa,” He hisses through gritted teeth as he leans in. His grip tightens, keeping his gaze set on you. “Sigue hablando y verás.” And just like that, his attitude changes on a dime, the anger in his eyes replaced by a hungry glint, a low growl rumbling in his throat as he leans closer to you. You barely take the time to notice that his suit is disappearing as if it were a hologram or nanotech, leaving him naked. You feel his length press up against you, and your eyes widen in shock. He’s big. Already hard and aching for you and you feel his precum drip against the inside of your thigh. You can’t help but wriggle your hips, desperate to feel him closer. “Look what you do to me.” He whispers the words in your ear as he grinds against you. Your eyes take their time looking down. Taking in everything that’s him. His broad shoulders, rippling muscles, chiseled abs; it’s insane how strong he is. You shiver at the thought of what he’s capable of. Your gaze dips further, following his happy trail down just as he’s started teasing your entrance with the tip of his cock, “Been waiting for this,” He groans, eyes shining with excitement, “No tienes idea querida.” "Bet it won’t compare, huh?” He asks, still painstakingly teasing you, “Bet it’ll feel so much better than all the times I’ve fucked my fist thinking of you and this pretty little pussy.” You gasp at his words, clenching around nothing, waiting in anticipation for him to finally fuck you. He laughs at your desperation. “Sabías eso, amor? Fantasized about you all the time, about you being mine. Solo mía.” He punctuates that final proclamation by finally entering you. He was taking his time, the stretch of him inching in was a euphoric mix of pain and pleasure, and you weren’t sure how much more you could take. It was too much; you could begin to see him bulge through your stomach, and you shake your head, not believing that he could possibly get in deeper. “Shh, just take it.” He sighed his words, enjoying the way you feel wrapped around him. “No puedo Miguel-” You gasp as you finally feel him fully press up against you. You’re so full you can barely breathe. Instinctually you wrap your legs around his waist, trying to keep him still while you adjust to his size. He pressed his hand against your navel, pushing down slightly, feeling himself. His eyes roll back at the sensation as a groan escapes his lips, wanting desperately to live in this moment forever. "Mírate." He urges, kissing your cheek. “Mira que bien nos vemos juntos, amor.” You listen to him, looking down at where you’re joined, and you squeeze at the sight of it. You rock your hips against him, letting him know it's okay to move, and he pulls out a little before pressing back in, making you moan while he sighs contently. “Look at how well you’re taking me, like you were made for me. Only for me."
The tenderness of his words was contrasted by the roughness of his movements as he began snapping his hips against yours. “So tight,” his words coming out through a strained growl while pounding into you.  “Dios! You’re squeezing me so fucking tight.”
“Feels so good, Miggy-” Tossing your head back as you moan out, pleasure engulfing you, your legs tightening around him, pressing your heel into his back as you tried to get him deeper. His next thrust was a little more brutal, his hips colliding with the back of your thighs.
“Así mi vida, así.” He growled, baring his fangs in a pleasureful grin. "Look at me." You look up at him immediately, moaning his name loosely at the feeling of him so deep inside you. So deep and big and full.
You can barely hold his gaze, trying desperately to resist the urge to roll your eyes back every time you feel him thrust back into you. You reach forward, nails digging into his bicep, trying to ground yourself in the moment.
“C’mon, you can take, can’t you?” He mocks you, his tone condescending, enjoying the way that he has you craving him. “Esto es lo que querías, verdad? But now look at you, can barely handle it-” His words cut off by a groan escaping his lips at the feeling of you clenching tighter around him.
He’s right, you don’t know how much more of this you can take as your legs begin to shake and you feel yourself quickly approaching orgasm again. Desperate hands gripping onto the flesh of your hip as he ruts into you. You let out a wanton moan as he slams home again, pulsating around him. “Cuéntale,” His grip on you tightens, sure to leave bruises by the time he’s done with you, “Cuéntale que soy mejor que él.” He whispers in your ear.
You’re nodding your head, babbling incoherently, not even aware of anything you’re really saying. He grins, knowing you’re close, and his ego soars at being able to get you there so soon. He groans as he feels you tighten around him; your eyes shut tight, and your body quivers from the intensity as your climax overwhelms you.
He slows down, trying to give you a moment to come down from your high in an effort to avoid overstimulating your senses. Soon, your body begins to relax as you’re grounded once again in reality. Your eyes are glossy with welled-up tears, and you offer Miguel a blissful smile.
“C’mon Miggy, thought you wanted to show me you’re better, I expected more from you-” You’re breathless as you speak, and it’s obvious to him that you’re just trying to egg him on, but he falls for it anyways. In an instant, he stopped his movements. His red eyes have never looked so menacing before and your breath caught in your throat. Without speaking, he pulled out, and you whined at the loss of contact.
He ignores your objection, opting to manhandle you, forcing you to turn around. He presses you down against the console, ass exposed to him. You put up a struggle in vain as he grabs your arms and pulls them back. You soon feel something wrap around your wrists, binding them. He webbed you. Effectively keeping you bound with something you couldn’t possibly hope to escape from. You felt him yank back on the binding, your hands resting above the small of your back. You hissed at the aching pain, but it was soon replaced by a moan of desperation when you felt the plush tip of his cock line up with your entrance. You expected him to tease you again, to make you beg for it, but Miguel was feeling merciless now. He drove into you without warning, making you take it as deep as he could possibly go. And at this new angle, you swear he was hitting your cervix. Your mouth opened in quiet ecstasy as he had his way with you. He kept your wrists behind your back in a tight hold, his other hand gripped firmly on your hip; you were sure that by the end of the day you’d have bruises on your hips in the shape of his fingertips. His hips were snapping relentlessly into yours, pistoning in and out of you so hard it was difficult to have a single coherent thought other than wanting more. Miguel’s growls and grunts were animalistic as they tore through his chest, his grip getting immensely tighter and his hips moving impossibly faster in this new position.
"That's better- fucking ruined and creaming on my cock. Who else can fuck you like this? No one, huh? Not Peter, not Ben, no one; only me.”
You’ve given in now, effectively broken, and all the brattiness you had left in you is gone, "Nadie! Nobody- just you, only you can fuck me like this." You choke out, legs trembling, pleasure coursing through you.
"That's right. You’re mine; mine to touch, to taste, to fuck- all mine." He harshly slaps your ass to emphasize his words. You squeal at the contact of his palm on the soft flesh, enjoying the sting it offers.
“Solo tuyo amor.” The words escape your lips in a breathless sigh, your mind hazy, dizzy with desire.  
He’s all you can think of; your senses overwhelmed by everything that’s him. The way he’s holding on to you, the way he feels aggressively pumping inside you, the grunts and groans he makes that are music to your ears. You’re delirious, unable to remember what your life was like before being here with him. Miguel reaches forward, lightly slapping your cheek. “Open up, sweetheart.” You oblige without a second thought, letting his fingers in your mouth. “Suck.” Who knew a single word could have you clenching so tight around him? A whimper leaves your lips as you obey his command, getting his fingers slick and wet with your spit. Too soon, he removes them from your mouth, and his fingers make their way down to your aching clit, rubbing tight circles to get you even closer to the edge.
“Uno más querida, solo uno más.” He urges as he speeds up his movements. You’re grinding onto his hand, eagerly chasing your release, having lost count of how many times he has had you come undone.
This one hits you like a freight train, full speed ahead. You swear you black out for a moment, your body buzzing and pulsing with a delightful and all-engulfing pleasure. You’re strung out, not offered a break as Miguel keeps pushing into you.
“Quiero verte Miguel, porfa~” You sob your words out from the overwhelming power of your orgasm, trying to turn your head to see the man who has wrecked you so thoroughly.
Slowing down, he listens to your plea and grants your wish, “Nunca te voy a negar.” Before you know it, he’s torn the webbing off your wrists with his claws and turns you around, having you once more on your back, legs spread open, welcoming him in again.
He slips back into your weeping cunt with ease, resuming his brutal pace as he tries to reach his climax. He grips onto the soft flesh of your thigh, claws slightly digging in as you wrap your legs around him, securing his spot inside you.
"Dime que soy tuyo." He pants needily, using his body to drive you forward.
"Eres mío, Miguel-" You gasp, raking your nails down his back to prove it, marking him as yours. "Mine, mine; solo mío amor"
His cock jumps inside you, both of you closer to your release. "That's right. I’m all yours,” His eyes flickered down to the place where your bodies met. Watching your pussy take him in over and over again. “Let me give you all of me- wanna fill you up.”
You unashamedly whimpered at his words, “Please, please Miguel-” Your words are starting to slur as you begin to beg him.
"Please, what? You losin' your words, now? So drunk on my cock you can't think straight?" He slaps your pussy lightly, clit puffy and sensitive. But you can't say anything, not when he's getting rougher, faster— pounding into you with a new force and determination. Rubbing tight circles on your bundles of nerves that have been exploited for the sake of your pleasure. You can feel that familiar feeling building, that knot getting tighter at the base of your stomach.
You’re almost in disbelief that you got there so quick, but with Miguel, it was like he knew your body inside and out, understanding exactly what you needed and giving you so much more.
He’ll never get over it. The way you tighten and pulse around him, the way your cunt squeezes him in a vice grip, making it harder for him to hold off his own release. The way your eyes roll back and the heavenly sounds that leave your mouth. He wants to make you feel this good for the rest of your lives. "Ay Dios— You're so pretty when you cum all over my cock." And he's still going, still pumping into your sensitive cunt with the same force. Your senses are so overwhelmed; it's like you can feel every single one of your nerve endings on fire.    "Fuck, gonna fill you up- that's what you want, right? Wanna feel full of my cum? Want me to breed you?" You're nodding desperately as you start to babble nonsense that you want him, need him, everything he wants to give you, you'll take. He leans down, burying his face in your neck as his groans reverberate against your skin. You feel him twitch inside you as he pushes in deeper, emptying himself inside you, letting you milk him for all he's worth, trying his best to not let a single drop go to waste.
He pulls back, arms braced on both sides of your head, caging you in. He meets your gaze, the red of his eyes barely visible anymore, hooded and glazed over from the feeling of you still squeezing him tight, keeping him locked in. When the haze subsides, his shoulders relax a bit, drawing closer to you. Miguel’s barely audible when he finally speaks again, but you hear his words anyways.
“Aunque tu vuelvas con él, dame otra noche.” There’s a hint of pain in his eyes, unsure of whether any of this actually meant anything to you.
Your heart aches at the allusion that you’d want anyone other than him, and you bring your hand up to his face, gently cupping his cheek, “Miguel, tú sabes que no voy a volver con él, soy tuya, recuerdas? Only yours.”
Relief washes over him as one of his rare smiles graces his face at your words, “Te quiero como a ninguna.” He murmurs as he leans down to place a gentle kiss on your lips. He pulls away, the start of another sentence on the tip of his tongue, but he’s soon interrupted.
With a flicker of yellow light, Lyla appears beside Miguel. “Took you two long enough! Was wondering when you’d finally admit your so very obvious feelings for each other.” She rolled her eyes behind her pink, heart-shaped sunglasses. “You’re welcome, by the way, this wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t snitch about you smooshing booties with Peter.” She adds, beside you now, close to your ear as if trying to whisper. “Lyla!” You swat your hand at her, embarrassed by the thought that she was aware of everything that just happened and mentioning the reason why this all transpired in the first place.
“Alright, alright,” She throws her hands up in mock surrender, “I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone, but you owe me for this!” With those final words, she disappears.
Your gaze meets Miguel’s, who just shakes his head in disbelief, rolling his eyes at the fact that Lyla chose such a tender moment to intrude on. You can’t help the laugh that bubbles out, giggling at the absurdity of it, and soon enough, he joins in on the joy you found in the moment.
~~~
Tagging some of my lovely mutuals and ppl who asked to be on my taglist/might be interested <3
@cozykali // @joaquinwhorres // @sunflowersteves // @fanboygarcia // @cowb00t // @mothdruid // @openforjean // @bobfloyds // @buckyytorres // @bvckysmoon // @inklore // @rhettabbotts // @wint3r-h3art // @zstrn // @golden-barnes // @ofstarsandvibranium // @sunmoonandeddie // @bubblebuckys // @ladyelissarose // @thinktankgoldfish // @harmonia-dread // @living-in-a-daydream97 // @eddiesslutwhore // @dilfsfordinner // @tarjapearce // @manyourlookingood​ // @lovers-in-japan-reign-of-love​ // @mraisedto3​ //
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runa-falls · 4 months
Text
cocktails
Tumblr media
gif from @pirateherokillian
pairing: jake lockley x shy!reader
summary: you finally gain enough courage to make a move on your best friend
cw: explicit (18+), dub-con (reader is tipsy), afab!reader, dry humping to piv pipeline, fingering, multiple orgasms, longing/pining losers, love (?), push-over!jake, needy!reader, 'just the tip' is never just the tip, alcohol consumption, pet names, daddy kink, creampie, fluff :3 -- not beta-read
wc: 5.1k
a/n: pls, it was never supposed to be this long. i'm sorry for taking FOREVER to write this. anyways, this is based off my blabbering in discord -- i dedicate this to my whores (affectionate) <3
mk masterlist | main masterlist
----
You don’t drink. 
At least not in front of Jake. 
Alcohol makes you…indulgent, to say the least, and that’s a side you’ve been holding back from your best friend. 
Yes, you’ve had a drink or two at some group hangouts in the past, but this, you, Jake, and a few bottles of gifted wine, surprisingly has never happened in the past. You’ve made sure of it.
What almost makes it worse is that Jake’s always been a sweetheart about your choices to avoid drinking around him. After your first few bouts of excuses and timid declines, he doesn’t pressure you to keep up with him when he’s knocking back shots or drinking pitchers of beer. 
Whenever your other friends press another drink into your hand, he subtly takes it for you, drinking it in large gulps before returning the glass from your hand. And when he pulls away, his fingers always find a way to graze against yours. Thankfully the bars are usually dimly lit so he can’t see the blush heating at your cheeks. 
He doesn’t realize it’s because of him. He’s the reason bartenders give you weird looks when you ask for watered-down vodka cranberries or why you’re always the last one standing in your friend group whenever you go out. This restraint around alcohol has gone on for years all because you harbor an intense attraction for your best friend. 
It didn’t start that way. He crashed into your quiet life and obliterated the dynamics of your friend group. When you first met him, you thought his cocky and blasé attitude was overcompensating for something.
He’s always been a natural sweet talker, not afraid to approach people and get what he wants, but it seemed too good to be true. He’s too charismatic, too interested in the dull life you live, how did he dig out a hole and place himself so easily in your life?
Easily, too easily, you fell for his sweet words, words that would inevitably draw you into his orbit and leave you hanging off of every syllable. 
You learned that no matter what he says, or does, he’s just being friendly. He’s just like that with everyone. It means nothing when he gives you a cheeky grin from across the bar or when he consistently insists on walking you home at night. Sure, he might stick closer to your side than anyone else's, but it’s just because you’re best friends. Right?
Of course, girls have tried and failed to lock down your best friend, misinterpreting his outgoing personality as him propositioning them. And they always come to you – whining over his lack of interest, the sudden and unexpected rejection of their advances, and grappling for any advice from his girl best friend. 
“He’s single, isn’t he?” The words are said over the thin rim of a martini glass. She glances over at you with hopeful eyes framed by beautifully dark lashes. 
You barely knew the girl’s name, but she offered to buy you a drink (a shirley temple) so you stayed for the conversation, however, you weren’t expecting the topic to circle back to Jake. But after watching her down a couple of martinis, gushing more and more about the man you’ve been pining after for an eon, you felt too bad to leave her. 
“Um…as far as I know.” It’s a little uncomfortable, talking about Jake like you’re his keeper.
“Then – then why won’t he go out – or even hook up with me?” Her voice has gotten louder with the exasperation of her inquiries. You look around at the bar, hoping she can keep it together before you’re kicked out for causing a ruckus. 
“Look, I don’t know if I’m the best –”
“But you’re his best friend, right?”
“Yes, but –”
“What’s his type?”
His type?
God, you wish you knew. It would make things a lot easier for yourself (and the world). But you genuinely don’t know. You’ve never seen him with a girl. Sure, he could be hooking up on the side, but why would he tell you?
You look down at your glass. All that’s left is ice, melting into an amalgam of pink-tinted liquid around the one maraschino cherry you refuse to eat. 
“I don’t know.” You mumble.
You’re already through a bottle and a half, lounging comfortably on the overstuffed couch in your living room. Something is playing on the TV but it’s all a blur behind the feeling of his thigh pressing against yours. 
Jake has never been afraid of showing his affection through physical means, whether it’s greeting ladies with a friendly peck on the cheek or ruffling one of the guy’s hair when he goes by. It’s natural to him. Casual.
But with you, he’s mostly hands-off. 
It’s not that you deign to feel his touch, to feel the scratchiness of his whiskers rub against the edge of your hairline, or lower against the sensitive skin of your throat, you just can’t control your reactions when he does it. Even the light touch of his hand against your lower back when he guides you has you standing straighter. 
He noticed your strong reactions to him and backed off, assuming you were uncomfortable or unused to friendly touches. And it was fine until you would do anything to feel him against you again, just one more time. It’s desperate, really, but you don’t really care when he looks at you with those cocoa-butter eyes. 
And now, he’s closer than ever but still hands-off. He politely sits next to you, one arm slung over the back of the couch and the other in his lap. But not touching you. 
He’s been making commentary about the dumb hallmark movie you impulsively rented, pointing out all the unrealistic plot conveniences and bright red flags that the main character blatantly ignores. He seems relaxed. 
You aren’t.
Two stained wine glasses sit on the coffee table, dangerously close to the edge, still holding a sip of liquid. You can barely make out the intricate print of his lips on the edge of the cup, highlighted by the brightness of the hallmark snow scene. 
You want so badly to steal the glass away and lick up the residual bitter-sweetness of the wine that’s touched his lips. To taste him, even indirectly. Or directly. Lick the sweetness straight from the source, tongue intermingling with him as he takes just as much from you. You feel yourself pulse from that image alone.
“Bunny?” Heat prickles against the back of your neck as you realize how far away your brain is, thinking such filthy and depraved thoughts of the man who is sitting right next to you. 
He dotes on you like a person would their favorite pet cat. He calls you pet names, ones that make you bite your tongue and hide your face in your hands. Bunny was the first one and the one he uses the most. 
It came out of nowhere, really. You were both at a small house party and Jake convinced you to join his team in a game of beer pong. You were still a bit nervous around him, still surprised when he’d seek you out for a conversation or to get your opinion on something entirely irrelevant. 
You told him upfront that your hand-eye coordination leaves much to be desired, but he was determined to teach you. The first few throws were pitiful, so pitiful, in fact, that the other team gave you a freebie to make up for it. 
“Here, lemme give you a hand.” You couldn’t even react before he was sidled behind you, his chest nearly flush against your shoulder as his hand wrapped around your wrist. Your body is frozen, soaking in the overwhelming closeness.
You can barely decipher the individual cups of beer with his voice low behind your ear as he directs you, “Keep it right….there” He lets go of your arm and you already miss his touch, “and put a little more power into your throw.” 
He steps back, giving you space to take a breath and refocus. 
You throw it, more mechanical than you would’ve liked, but it – miraculously – goes in. 
Immediately you turn around to get his reaction, the praise that you secretly crave from a man you barely know. 
He grins down at you, “You’re a natural, bunny.” 
And the nickname stuck.
You look over at him, lazily blinking up to meet his fond gaze, “Hm?” You feel all fuzzy inside, overexcited yet pinned down by the unexplainable need to stay close to him. 
He smirks down at you, arm subtly lowering to barely touch the back of your head, “What’cha thinkin’ about, sweetheart?” You try to lean into the feeling of his arm, hoping that if you ease into it, he won’t notice. “You had this… faraway look in your eyes for a moment.”
Oh, he noticed. But there’s no way he knows what you were thinking, right? A flash of embarrassment stings hot in your cheeks. You don’t think when you shyly nuzzle your face into his bicep to avoid his curious eyes, “I think I just zoned out or something.”
He hums, “You tired?” You turn your face to look at him, cheek resting against him. God, he smells so good. You never want to move from this spot. “Want me to tuck you in?” His voice coos teasingly, but you soak in the sweetness of it. He can be so soft sometimes.
Scrambled words echo in your mind: But if you go to bed, you’ll leave. You’ll take your arm out from under me and leave me here to think about you, all alone. Why can’t you just – Your thoughts quickly dissipate when he pulls you closer to him, hand at your waist to press your body against his.
Your hand presses delicately against his chest in surprise and you can barely feel the soft thrum of his heartbeat underneath the firmness of his muscles.
You softly shake your head, “Not tired.”
“Sure, baby.” 
Baby. 
That’s new. 
Your thighs involuntarily press together with how good it sounds coming from his lips. Directed at you. Somehow, even with all the pet names he’s given you throughout the span of your friendship, this one hits home.
He says it with the casualness of a boyfriend and tenderness of a lover. You can almost feel him panting it against the crook of your neck as he pushes inside of you, hand clutching yours as his hips roll perfectly against yours. 
You don’t even realize your legs are rubbing together like a cricket at dusk until a warm hand wraps around the top of your thigh. He pulls them apart, spreading your legs like you’ve always dreamed he would. Despite the suggestive position, you still whine at the loss of friction, thoughtlessly fighting against the insisting tug of his hand.
He hushes you gently, a soft tone barely easing your frustration. You latch your fingers onto his wrist, attempting to guide him to the spot that you really need him to touch, but he barely budges. His grip on your thigh tightens when his name drips brokenly from your lips. 
“J-Jake…” 
“Sweetheart, stop.”
“But –”
“Please.” Jake looks down at you with a pained expression, all past chivalry betrayed by the darkness pooled in his eyes.
You look up at him with misty eyes and flushed skin, innocence in the palm of his hand. “I need you.” You bite your lip at your admission, stained red from the wine, and he can’t take his eyes off of you. You pull at him again and this time he lets you. Both of you look down as his hand cups you over your shorts.
“You’re too drunk right now.” The whispered attempt of resistance falls on deaf ears as you arch your hips into his touch. Neither of you notice that the movie ended, leaving you in a silence where only the exchange of breathless pants can be heard. 
“Touch me.” You whine, desperate for anything. Desperate just to be accepted by him.
His gaze briefly flicks up from where he’s touching to regard your eagerness with half-lidded eyes. He shakes his head and looks away like he’s looking for answers on the blank wall next to him. “I…shouldn’t.” 
You start to panic when you feel his hand pull away. It can’t end like this. You hold onto his wrist when a particularly needy idea pops into your mind. If he doesn’t want to ‘defile’ you, then fine. You’ll do it yourself.
“I…c-could i just rub myself against you?” You berate yourself for sounding so meek, so unsure, but you’ve never done anything like this before, never had to take control of the situation. “Like, if you don’t want to…um, touch me.” He looks at you wordlessly, gorgeous lips parted at your suggestion.
His tongue brushes over his bottom lip, “I– Okay, sure…” 
With his permission, you push up against the couch to get up and straddle over him. Clearly, he wasn’t expecting it with how his hands barely hover over your body like he’s unsure whether he wants to pull you closer or shove you off his lap. “Is this okay?” 
“Yeah.” He sounds strained, “But just for a little bit, alright?” 
“Ok.” You promise though you’re sure that once you get a taste, you’ll never want to stop. You have to make this good for him so he’ll want you back.
You settle against him, body thrumming with anticipation when your clothed cunt meets the prominent hardness under his jeans. So he does want it. His hands clasp onto your waist when you start to move over him, hips experimentally rolling against his.
Jake watches you move over him with a look of deep hunger and awe. It’s endearing how shy you are, even now grinding on his lap. Your movements are clumsy – unpracticed as you desperately try to chase that spark that’ll satisfy the heat buried deep down inside of you. 
“That good, baby?” 
You nod, mewling quietly as the seam of his jeans drags perfectly against your clit. Pleasure pools in your stomach, nudging you closer and closer to the edge. You hold onto his shoulders as you work yourself over him, panting from your effort. He starts to cant his hips upwards to meet your thrusts, pressing his erection roughly against your core to show you just how much he wants you. 
All you can think of is how good it would feel to have him bare against you, skin to skin. When you meet your peak, body hot and trembling as you rub against him, the end never comes. It’s not enough. You’re just left teetering at the top with no drop in sight.
You huff, “Jake, can I – just…please.” You let your hands drop from his shoulders to start working on his belt.
“What is it bunny, what do you need?” He looks so good under you with his wrinkled shirt unbuttoned just so to give you a peak of his collarbone and the newly open belt hanging from the loops in his tight jeans. You undo the button, fingers briefly fumbling as your knuckle brushes against his bulge.
“Just need to feel you.” You paw at the waist of his pants, trying to subtly indicate that you need his help to take them off. But he sits there and smiles sweetly at your frustrated huffs. 
“And what about me?” He says in a teasing drawl. He drags you closer to him and cups your face until your lips nearly meet yours. He’s so close that you can make out the light dusting of freckles that grace his nose and cheeks. Amber eyes bore into yours as he whispers, “You’re using my body and haven’t even given me a kiss yet.”
“Oh.” Your gaze drops to his lips, “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, baby.” He leans in, “just kiss me.” Your eyes flutter close when you meet the softness of his lips. You immediately melt into the gentle caress of his hand on your jaw with a sigh as he desperately keeps you close. 
Jake groans, drinking in the sweetness of your lips, a taste of pure heaven melting on the tip of his tongue, before hungrily deepening the kiss. He licks against the seam of your mouth, begging you to open yourself up to him. You surrender yourself to him, letting him slide in and taste you from the inside out. 
Your hands move up from his shoulders to his soft curls, tugging eagerly in an attempt to hear the soft groan that rumbles in his chest. He nips at your bottom lip, suckling it until it’s pink and tender, wanting to leave a mark so you’ll always think of him. He can’t help but press against you when you whimper for him, grinding eagerly against your center, wishing he was inside of you instead.  
“Just the tip.” You mumble it against his lips. He’s too far gone to clearly hear what you said, lost in a thick fog of awe, lust, and…love. At his silence, you pull away to look at him, scared you’re asking for too much. “Jake.” He nods thoughtlessly, chasing your lips, already missing your taste. He almost whines when you pull away from his touch, but quickly comes back to reality when he sees the way you’re nervously looking at him. 
He squeezes your waist comfortingly, “Anything you want, bunny.” You smile at the pet name and gratefully peck his lips. He tries to deepen the kiss, hand already pressing against the back of your head, but you cheekily pull away before he gets too far. You stand up, ignoring his objections and clingy touches as you get off of his lap. 
You fluidly slip your shirt over your head before carelessly dropping it to the floor behind you. There’s fire in his eyes as he sits back on the couch and watches you reveal the cute bra that cups you so perfectly. You tease the edge of your waistband as you look down at him, “Off, please.” You gesture at his jeans. He follows your directions, quickly shimmying his pants off, eyes on you the whole time.
You follow him, tugging your shorts off to show him the matching panties. You squeak when warm hands abruptly pull you to the couch, eagerly wandering over your waist and hips as he buries his face against your neck. 
“Can’t help it, baby,” His touch drifts up to cup the underside of your tits, trailing carefully over the curve to memorize the shape of you. “You’re just so fucking pretty.” He groans hot and heavy against your neck as he squeezes your softness. 
You’re back on top of him, naked thighs draped over his, skin against skin, and now, you can feel all of him. He’s pressed so deliciously against your core, pulsing with pure desire and heat. The only thing separating the two of you is fading self-control and a pair of thin panties.
His mustache tickles against your throat as his lips drift over your pulse point. He presses heady kisses against the edge of your jaw, gauging where your most tender spots are. 
“Oh–!” Your thighs clench around him when he touches a particularly delicate area near your ear. He gently nips at the spot, holding you tighter when you moan at the feeling.
Jake lets out a broken groan when you reach between your bodies and take him into your hand. He tries to continue giving your body loving attention with his lips, but his kisses get messy, dragging lazily over your shoulder and collarbone, with how distracted he is by your touch. He has to pull away for a breather and hold himself back from thrusting into your fist when you squeeze him teasingly at the base. 
“Bunny…” You both look down and watch as your smaller hand slowly strokes him. His cock is flush with need, leaking so prettily as you try your hardest to make it good for him. You slip your other hand under his shirt, running your fingers against his coarse happy trail to his rippling muscles. The couch groans next to you as he harshly grips the arm, barely holding himself back with white knuckles. “Oh, f-fuck.” His body stiffens under you as you brush your thumb against the sensitive underside of the tip. 
You tenderly massage the spot, watching in awe as he continues to spill over your fingers, making a mess that drips onto your inner thighs and the edge of his shirt. He groans at the sight, his cock throbbing desperately in your hold.
As beads of white paint your fingers, your mouth waters just thinking about how he tastes. You feel ravenous to see him cum, to watch how easily you can ruin him. “H-hold on, cariño. Give me a second.” Jake chokes out. His hips stutter under you before he pulls your hand away.
"Whyy." You whine, pouting up at him with starry eyes. You reach for him again with the hand he isn’t holding onto, brushing your fingers against his sensitive cock. He shudders for you with a broken groan. 
“I'm close-- just – stop for a moment –” Both hands are pinned to your side as Jake’s chest heaves under his shirt. He rests his head back against the couch, eyes closed as he struggles to hold himself back. 
“But…I want you to.”
“I know, baby,” He lifts his head, dark eyes boring into yours, and pulls your hands behind you. You squirm in his lap, back arching at the position, suddenly remembering your own desperation. It feels good to be bound by his hands, to let him do whatever he wants to your body. “But I don’t wanna finish if it isn’t in you.” 
Your face heats in embarrassment. “Oh.” 
Jake picks up on your sudden shyness immediately. 
“You like that, don’t you, bunny?” He smirks, “The thought of me filling you up, then dripping out of you?”
You bite your lip, “A little bit.”
“A little, hm?” He ponders, “Well why don’t we try it out and see.” Your thighs clench around him at the idea.
“Ok.”
“Sit up, let me see how wet you are.” He helps you raise yourself on your knees so you’re hovering over his lap. Letting go of your wrists, he drags his thumb against your clothed cunt; The fabric has a darkened splotch along your opening, teasing him with evidence of your lust. “Aw, sweetheart, you’re soaked…” He nudges your panties to the side, slipping his fingers against your wet opening. “Gonna ruin these pretty little panties, hm?” You nod wordlessly, hips desperately pushing against his touch.
He gently slides against your dripping entrance, making a mess of your cunt with teasing circling motions. Wet, decadent sounds fill the limited space between you as his fingers prod ever so slightly against the spot where you need him most.  A helpless sound is pushed out of you when he finally eases two fingers inside of you.
“Is that good, bunny?” He coos as he slowly fucks his fingers into you. It’s only his fingers, but he’s already filling you up so deliciously. His dark eyes are hungrily locked on how he fills you up over and over again, slick dripping down his knuckles and over his palm. “Hm?” 
You nod again, brain foggy with pleasure. “Yes, J–” You can barely get a word out when he curls his fingers up, pressing so sweetly and deep against the sensitive walls of your cunt. You have to stop yourself from wrapping your legs around his wrist, it feels so good. “Uh–!” You almost fall over and have to hold onto his shoulders for support as he begins to speed up. 
“That’s it, baby…” Your grip on his shoulders tightens as he rapidly presses against your g-spot. You’re already hurdling towards the edge and he can feel it with how you start to clench around his fingers. “Make a mess of my hand..” Within a handful of thrusts, you’re gasping out with pleasure, your thighs shaking over him. He takes his hand away and holds you against him to keep you sitting upright as your body is overtaken with euphoria. You pant against his shoulder, trying to gather your senses. 
You can feel him under you, hard and wanting, throbbing as you whimper and arch against him, letting the pleasure work through your body. Even when you’re barely coming down from an orgasm, you’re still longing to be filled with something more. But he ignores his own needs, instead focusing on you, softly pecking the top of your head and rubbing comforting circles against your arms. 
You lift your head from his chest to look at him, taking in his flushed cheeks and dark eyes. Jake stares right back, unabashedly, in awe. “You’re so good to me, bunny.” You shiver at the praise. At the comfort. You shyly divert your eyes to stare at the marks you’ve left on his shoulders. 
“Only for you, Jake.” You don’t see it, but his lips lift into a small smile at your words. 
His hands drift down from your arms to hold you by the waist. “Only for me.” He echos, solidifying the statement. 
You gasp when he suddenly presses you down against his cock. Looking back up at him, he meets your wide eyes with a mischievous grin, hips rolling teasingly against yours. “And I’m all yours.” You position yourself over him all while keeping eye contact, wanting to drink in every microexpression on his face. 
“Yes.” You both sigh as he barely brushes against your wet opening. He takes a deep breath, clutching your hips as you begin your descent.
Your body slowly manages to swallow the first inch of him. And – oh – it’s so much better than you expected. He stretches you so fully, even barely inside of you, filling you exactly how you need him to. 
You let out a strained whimper from the back of your throat as you slowly lower yourself onto his lap. You whine as your body desperately clenches and stretches to accommodate him inside of you. His hold on your hips tightens as your thighs meet his, now fully impaled by his hard cock.  
“I thought it was ‘just the tip’.” Jake tries to tease, his deep voice gravelly with lust, but it comes out as more of a groan than a taunt.
You slowly shake your head, body trembling as you get used to the feeling of him inside of you. 
“You said you’re all mine, daddy.” The words practically melt from your lips, lethargic with heat. It catches him off guard. You moan, hips slowly moving over him to feel him deeper inside. “M-mine,” You repeat with a pant, so lost in desperation that you don’t even notice the way he’s looking at you, frozen in place. 
“I-I did say that, didn’t I?” He doesn’t know what else to say, brain overheating from your ministrations. You’ve never called him a pet name before, let alone used the word ‘daddy’ anywhere near him. You’ve always been a shy little bunny around him, always preciously out of reach, a tease to fantasize about, but now you’re wrapped around him, moaning beautifully destructive words. 
What really surprises him is the way he’s eagerly throbbing inside of you from that word. Desperate thoughts float in his mind: She wants me to take care of her, she needs me.
“Fuck me.” He groans to himself, willing his body to hold back from cumming inside of you right then and there. 
“P-please.” You beg with a broken voice, thinking he’s talking to you. Jake just nods understandingly and holds you closer with an arm wrapped around your torso, wanting to feel your whole body against his. He starts off slow, pressing up into your kneeling body with measured thrusts as he dots kisses along your neck and shoulders. You sigh something wistful before meeting his movements, eagerly lifting your hips against him. 
“God, bunny, you feel so good.” He can't help it, you’re all-encompassing like this, with your pretty little sighs and panted breaths, it’s everything he’s ever wanted, so he starts to speed up, projecting his desperation into his actions. Your back arches at the change of pace as he pumps into you, and it only makes him feel deeper. “So tight around me.” He pushes against your front wall on every thrust and you swear it makes you see stars. 
Your clit inevitably rubs against him as your bodies move with each other and it takes your pleasure to another level. You’re sure the sounds you’re making verge on embarrassing, but he seems to eat them up anyway. “Ah, right there--! Jake –”
“No, bunny,” He grits out, “It’s daddy.”
You whimper, “Daddy – ” He feels you flutter deliciously around him as your head begins to lull backward. He groans as your cunt sucks him deep inside, desperately milking his cock as you’re seized by ecstasy.
“Fucking take it, sweetheart.” 
“I-I think m’gonna…” Your eyes roll back before you can finish your sentence and white fills your vision. You let out a keening sound as you gush over him, thighs clenched around his as your second high moves through you. 
His eyes squeeze shut as he gives in and starts fucking you at a punishing pace. Your mouth drops open around an empty moan. You can only hold onto him as he takes what he wants from your body, intensifying your orgasm with sloppy thrusts. With a few more upward pushes, he lets out a breathy grunt and finishes inside of you, painting your walls with his warmth. 
You both stay in this position for a little longer. 
You can feel Jake’s heart beat rapidly against your chest as you cuddle against him. He’s still recovering from the onslaught of sensations and emotions. Both of you are sticky with sweat and slick, but neither of you care. His cock is still inside of you, keeping his cum locked inside as you dutifully warm him with your cunt. 
“Such a pretty girl…” He croons, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. He looks down at you with such sincerity in his eyes, that it’s almost overwhelming. You bite your lip nervously at the compliment and attempt to look away, but before you can, he’s tilting your face up with the light touch of a finger, “Really? You’re gonna act all shy with my cock still in you?”
His words only make you squirm on top of him. He nearly chokes at the accidental stimulation. 
“You can’t just say stuff like that.” Your voice is small and cute.
“Then how am I supposed to fluster my girl?” 
Your eyes widen. His girl? 
“Your girl?”
“My girl.” He hums with a small smile before placing a soft kiss on your lips.
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catcze · 6 months
Note
not particularly a request if u don't want it to be but as a fellow wriothesley enjoyer I wanted to share this idea
fontaine is based off of france right? so the thought of wrio being able to speak french and absolutely using that to his advantage to be a flirt has been driving me insane. he would be INSUFFERABLE (especially if his s/o isn't fluent) and I'd be loving every second of it
(also love your works <3 it's the main fuel that's been making me so horrifically down bad for him)
OH ?!!? MY GOD ?!?! HEHAKJDJ FUCK I HAVE TO WRITE THIS I CANT NOT !! It's a little short and a little sweet, but i hope you like it!
(Translations listed at the end! I used google translate, so if there's any mistakes, please feel free to correct me!!)
Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!
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Wriothesley has started to say things to you on the regular— but for the life of you, you can't understand. It starts first on a slow day. You're lounging in his office, reading a random book you've plucked from his shelves. He's just looking through some papers, doing nothing too important.
Then, Wriothesley glances up from his papers, lets his eyes fall on you. "Tu me rends si heureux."
And you're furrowing your brow in confusion, staring at him. It's a phrase form his mother tongue, that much you know. But you're not sure what it actually means. The way his smile is a bit too mischievous, you don't think that he intends for you to understand, anyway.
"I'm... sorry?" You ask. What else can you say? You're pretty sure from his insufferably smug expression that he's not going to tell you what it means anytime soon. At the very least, you're pretty sure he's not shit talking you to your face.
Your eyes narrow.
Probably.
He can see the question on the tip of your tongue, the suspicious glance you cast his way. Wriothesley just chuckles and goes back to the papers on his desk.
"Don't worry about it, sweetheart."
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The next time, he does it as you're having dinner across from each other in the cafeteria. Your meal is halfway done, having been practically shoveled into your mouth. It probably paints an unflattering picture, but you're too hungry to really care. Resting on the table, he's stubbornly gripping your hand in his own, fingers intertwined. Even though it made eating much more difficult, Wriothesley would scowl and reach back for your hand whenever you tried to take it away, so you just considered it a lost cause.
Lost in filling your stomach, you're almost don't hear what he says.
"Je ne peux pas imaginer le reste de ma vie sans toi." Wriothesley mumbles, thumb stroking the back of your hand tenderly.
You narrow your eyes again, a silent question.
Wriothesley just smiles secretively and raises a hand to his mouth, miming zipping up his lips and locking it with a key, then tossing it away. He winks at you, and you roll your eyes. No answers today, apparently.
"Are you ever going to tell me what it is you've been saying?" you ask once you've swallowed your food.
"Mm. Maybe one day. If I feel like it." And he's grinning again— the cheeky one that he wears whenever he one-ups you, that showcases his dimples and his teeth. You kinda want to punch him, but it also makes you remember how handsome he is when he smiles.
"Fine," you grumble, sighing. You busy yourself once more with your food. "Keep your fucking secrets. See if I care." You do. A lot, actually. You're very curious now.
Wriotheley just smiles and lets you eat.
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But he slips up, one evening. To be fair, it's late at night after a hard day's work. Both of you are exhausted— a tangled mass of limbs and sheets on your bed, both of you halfway asleep already.
Your head is cushioned on his chest, nose pressed against his collarbone, and his arms wrapped around you. Wriothesley's nose is pressed into the crown of your head, breathing in the smell of your hair. His breaths are deep and slow, and you can tell without even looking that his eyes are fighting to stay awake. You're no better, though.
Just before you nod off though, you can feel the brush of his lips against your hair. "Je t'aime. Je t'aime tellement," he says quietly, lips brushing the strands in affection. If you had just been the slightest bit more asleep, you might not have even heard it.
But while you may not be fluent in his language, may know little else aside from the most basic of phrases, you recognize that one. It's hard not to, when it's arguably one of the most popular phrases from his mother tongue. Je t'aime. I love you.
Something gooey finds its way into your chest, and the blood rushes through your body as you're overcome by the sheer sweetness of the man you're laying on. Slowly, you crane your neck up to face him, and can see the slight widening of his eyes, the quiet oh shit that runs through his head.
"Is that what you've been saying?" you ask, voice just as quiet as his. Wriothesley hesitates, arms tightening their hold on you.
"... generally, yes."
You smile gently, scooching up enough to press a kiss to his jaw, then to his lips, giggling when he leans down to make it easier for you. You bury your head into his neck then, resting your cheek against him. "I love you too, Wrio."
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Translations:
Tu me rends si heureux. — You make me so happy. Je ne peux pas imaginer le reste de ma vie sans toi. — I can't imagine the rest of my life without you. Je t'aime. Je t'aime tellement. — I love you. I love you so much
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apomaro-mellow · 8 months
Text
Wrong Number 1
Eddie kept up a texting chain with Steve while making himself a breakfast of coffee and cereal. He hadn't felt like this in a long time. Not since, well, when he thought of it when he was a teenager up all night in chat rooms and forums. When you found someone who you just clicked with.
[11:30] Any advice on how to fry an egg with a perfectly runny yolk?
(11:32) You like runny yolks??? 🤢 (11:33) It's scrambled or nothing for me (11:33) Cant help ya even if I wanted to
[11:35] I just want an egg on my avo toast
Normally Robin fried the eggs for breakfast. Her yolks were always perfect. But unlike Steve, she'd actually scored last night and was still with whoever she'd gone home with last night.
Eddie couldn't help but roll his eyes at the cliche. A guy who jogged and then came back home for some avocado toast with an egg on top? He just had to let his stance be known.
(11:35) Next ur gonna tell me bout your acai smoothie bowl rite? (11:36) Avo toast? Really???
Steve realized how he was coming off and had to quickly amend it.
[11:38] It's not what you think! We only got the avocados to make some guac the other day. There was one left and I wanted to use it before it went bad. And I'm all guac'd out. Hence the toast.
(11:39) At least you didn't use the avocado to make like ice cream or some shit
Finished with his own, normal, regular, average citizen breakfast, Eddie cleared his place and started to actually get ready for the day. His shift went from 2 to 10 tonight, so he needed to prepare for the long haul.
While brushing his teeth, getting dressed, and making something for his lunch later, he and Steve kept up the texts. Through their conversation he found out Steve's favorite ice cream (peanut butter), that he could cook eggs just about any way except sunny side up, and that he lived with a roommate named Robin.
Eddie got to his place of work and in a place like that you need to have some semblance of focus and attention, so he told Steve he had to get to work. He realized he was basically saying 'busy now, text you later?' to a stranger he'd only started talking to last night. Steve was completely in his rights to end the conversation there.
He could've ended it at any time really. What obligation did he have to keep on talking to him?
[2:01] Okay. Talk to you later
Steve stared at the message, already in the middle of agonizing over it when Robin finally came through the door of their apartment.
"Good afternoon. I wanna feel offended that I didn't get any texts or calls asking if I'm okay but I'm gonna choose to think it means you trust me and are a great judge of character."
For the first time in a while, Steve checked the time and actually realized how long it had been.
"Shit, Robs, I'm sorry." It had been over 12 hours and he hadn't checked in on her. All because he'd been texting a random number. "So you had a good time?"
Steve had been sitting on the couch and Robin plopped right down, laying her head in his lap.
"It was magical. Like something out of a movie."
"Aren't you glad I made you go and talk to her?", Steve smiled smug.
Robin smushed his face with her hands with a groan. "Don't look at me like that. You were right, okay? Me and her hit it off like, like uh, one of your sports metaphors."
"Robin you were in a soccer league just last year, stop acting like you don't know sports."
"Anyway, something grand must've kept your attention off me. Things go well with that girl you were talking to?"
"Umm, yeah."
Robin sat up, eyes narrowing. "And you came back here with her? Gross! Steve! Did you do it on the couch?!" She shot up immediately.
"I didn't", Steve rolled his eyes.
It was one of their main rules. No sex in the common areas of the apartment. Steve wasn't gonna tell her about the wrong number given to him. And he especially wasn't going to tell her he kept talking to it. The following lecture would have been unbearable.
"She gave me her number and we've just been texting back and forth."
Robin slowly sat back down on the couch. "Just texting? That's all you did?"
"That's all."
"Wow. You usually move faster than that."
"Well, I want something a little more this time. But enough about my snail pace romance. Let's talk about you and that girl, what was her name?"
He and Robin sat a long while, talking about her night, eventually going out for lunch together too. Not-Misty had said they were at work, but Steve couldn't help himself when he saw that Robin had ordered a burger with avocado on it and Steve had gotten a taco salad that came with, you guessed it, avocado.
[3:14] image.jpeg [314] Okay me and Robin might have a problem. But I swear it's not on purpose!
"Did you just send a picture of our lunch to someone?", Robin asked.
"Yeah to uh, to Misty. We were talking about avocados earlier and I figured she'd get a kick out of it."
Robin smiled through her chewing. She teased but she was glad that her friend had made a connection last night.
Meanwhile, Eddie saw the message, but didn't have a chance to reply, even on his lunch break. Through all the texting, he had forgotten to charge his phone, so it was on the plug and he was leaving it alone for now while he talked to his co-worker, Grant. He went through the rest of his shift, thinking about Steve.
What did he look like? How old was he? Where did he live?
He got off and made his way back home, stopping off somewhere to get dinner. It was a sandwich shop and he honestly contemplated getting avocado on his just to see Steve's reaction but he resisted.
'I can't be that down bad that I'm overthinking food now', he thought to himself.
When he got back home, he turned the tv on and took out his phone to reply to Steve right away.
(10:31) Back at home now (10:32) Work was crazy (10:34) And the 1st step to recovery is admitting u have a problem (10:36) But thru hard work we can get you addicted to a sensible veggie (10:37) Like broccoli
He thought since he kept Steve waiting for so long it might take some time for a reply to come, but his phone pinged almost immediately.
[10:39] First of all, avocado is a fruit. Second, I eat plenty of other vegetables. And third, what happened at work?
(10:41) It may be a fruit but I dont want it in my smoothie (10:42) And some guy came in and started throwing axes at the wall
Sunday evenings were usually more relaxed. It was why Eddie typically didn't work Friday or Saturday nights unless he needed some extra cash or they needed someone on deck.
[10:44] Hold the duck up someone was throwing axes!! [10:44] *duck [10:45] *FUCK
Eddie snickered through his eating and had to take a moment to swallow before something came up. He always enjoyed telling people what he did for a living.
(10:46) Cool your jets man (10:47) I work at an axe throwing range (10:48) The problem with this dude was he didn't have an appointment (10:48) Just came in and started throwing an axe at the wall
[10:50] Are you okay? That sounds dangerous
(10:50) My uncle handled it (10:51) Eventually the dude left
[10:52] Oh wow. Well I'm glad you're okay. Axe throwing tho. What an interesting job for someone of your age? 🤷
Steve was lying in bed and he buried his face into his pillow as he sent it with the shrug emoji. It was so transparent, he knew it. But he needed to have a better idea of who he was talking to. That way when Robin did eventually find out, he'd be able to tell her something, anything.
(10:53) Smooth (10:53) I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours
Eddie knew now was the time to be cautious. But he was also curious as to how much Steve would tell him and just what he wanted to know. He wasn't disappointed.
[10:54] Male, 23, 5'11
It was like the bare minimum of information and yet Eddie was already aggressively tamping down any hope that he might have a chance. Without his permission, hope bubbled up anyway
(10:55) Male, 24 going on 25, also 5'11
Steve stared at the text with the mystery person, mystery man's information. It seemed like so little and yet so much. He still hadn't an idea of what he looked like. But now he could at least get a general silhouette.
(10:56) Ur not one of those guys who lies about his height are you?
[10:57] Robin says my hair gives me two inches but she has no idea what she's talking about.
Eddie was thinking about how Steve must wear his hair. It could be in a sizeable pompadour, or maybe a nice afro. Maybe it was in a bun all the time? That was not what he typed out however.
(10:59) You know what they say (10:59) It's not the size but what u do with it
Okay this was it. This was where Steve stopped texting him. You can't just say that to guys you don't know-ping!
Eddie bit his lip and only had one eye open as he looked at Steve reply, preparing for the worst.
[11:01] Oh I know how to use my inches
Eddie dropped his phone onto the table and had to get up and pace, touch his face, his hair, throwing his hands in the air. Was this flirting? This felt like flirting. He wished he knew for sure. Maybe it was the lack of emoji. Had Steve put a winking face, he'd know for certain. Eddie leaned against his fridge, staring at his phone, sitting innocently on the table.
On the other side, Steve was burying his face into his pillow, pretending he didn't just say that. Would it come off as playful? As flirty? As casual? Should he have sent a wink? The seconds ticked and it felt too late. Like coughing after saying something awkward.
God, he was so desperate. Why was he even still texting? He had work in the morning. He should start preparing for bed so he had any hope of getting up on time. Steve pushed off the bed and went to his closet when he heard the notification sound and instantly returned.
(11:05) Let's get out the measuring tape (11:05) image.jpeg
Steve felt his heart skip a beat. The picture attached was of the very top of mystery man's head. He was holding up a lock of long, curly hair into the air. Steve studied the picture like he was getting paid to do it. He couldn't see any lower than the bangs on his forehead but there was still plenty to see.
The rings on his fingers for one, how his curls went this way and that. Steve quickly saved it and then replied with a similar pose, holding some hair by the fingers as far as it would go above his head.
[11:07] image.jpeg [11:08] I think you have me beat
They texted for about an hour more before Steve finally decided to be an adult and put himself to sleep, bidding mystery man good night.
Part 3
Fun fact, years ago I worked at an axe throwing place and yes, what happened to Eddie did in fact happen to me! On like my first week too I think
Tag Team
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