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#do you guys remember this. how they were just. treated like a couple on the show
tomssexdoll · 2 days
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When I was your man
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PAIRINGS: Tom 2009 x Female reader CONTENT: ANGST + FLUFF + SMUT SYPNOSIS: Tom and Y/N broke up, after 2 years of dating she finally had enough of his shitty behaviour. Tom starts to see her everywhere and deeply regrets his actions, crying for you every night. One night he sees you at a bar, dancing with another man and he approaches you. A/N: inspired by when I was your man by bruno mars WARNINGS: dom! tom, sub!reader, eating out, alcohol mentions, fingering
Me and Y/N broke up a month ago, she couldn't deal with my shitty behaviour she said, complaining about how I treat her. When I refused to apologise she took her things and left, texting me later that we were over.
As soon as I saw her say that I burst into tears, realizing my shitty actions towards her.
I went to bed that night but it didn't feel right. It was the same bed but it felt just a little bit bigger, more empty without her, cold and lonely.
I hear our song on the radio but it doesn't sound the same. The song we had our first kiss to, lost our virginities to, countless of memories wasted all because of me.
When my friends talk about her all it does is just tear me down, cause my heart breaks a little when I hear her name.
I've been super depressed after the breakup, not being able to sleep properly and not eating. All I wanted was her, to hold her, caress her soft skin, kiss and appreciate her. But she was gone, and I didn't know how long it'd be until I could have her in my arms again.
My pride, my ego, my needs and my selfish ways, caused a good strong woman like her to walk out of my life, and it haunts me everytime I close my eyes.
I couldn't just set my selfishness down for a second, I was a fucking idiot, treating the kindest and most beautiful girl like shit, disregarding her feelings, gaslighting her and neglecting her. I looked at twitter, seeing headlines of her with another guy.
I sobbed and sobbed, crying my eyes out, seeing her already moved on. I knew I deserved it but I wanted her back so badly, she was my everything, my baby, my world. I wish I could turn back time and just start all over again, make her feel like the only girl in the world, make her feel special and loved.
One day I decided to go to a bar and drink my sorrows away, running out of all the alcohol in my house that I drowned myself in. I sat down, ordering a couple shots of whiskey, downing them within seconds.
I turned around to see everyone dancing, sweaty bodies pressed up against each other, making me remember the special moments we shared in this bar, tears welled up in my eyes again.
Then suddenly I saw her, Y/N was there, she was so beautiful, so stunning. Her features glowing from the flashing lights, curves showing off in her sexy dress. My baby was dancing like she loved to do, but she was dancing with another man, he smiled at her, holding her close and kissing her gently.
My eyes widened and I stared there in shock, it felt like the world stopped, like everything went silent. She swayed her hips, grinding into him. She looked like she was having so much fun.
I stepped closer, the lights now hitting me. She turned and looked at me, her eyes widening and her movements haltering. We just stared at each other for a while, she eventually rolled her eyes and excused herself, walking off. I ran after her, calling out for her.
Eventually I grabbed onto her arm, looking down at her "baby..please" I choked out a sob, she pushed me off "get off me Tom, I told you we're over.." she mumbled, not being able to look me in the eyes.
I noticed how she quickly wiped a tear from her cheek, I grabbed her chin and lifted it to look at me, "I know im probably much too late, to try and apologise for my mistakes" I sighed "but i just want you to know, I hope he buys you flowers and holds your hand, gives you all his hours, take you to every party cause i remember how much you loved to dance, do all the things i've should've done..when i was your man.."
Tears welled up in her eyes, she hugged me tightly and sobbed into my chest, "oh tom..I missed you so much" I smiled and stroked her hair. "Let's go outside baby..talk about things better, hm?" I mumbled against her hair, she nodded and took my hand, leading my outside and leaving the guy she was with.
We walked to my car and got in, blasting the heating. "He's not with me or anything..i've been hooking up with him for like 2 weeks and I figured paparazzi might have been there to take photos and make you jealous.." she crossed her arms, frowning.
"I deserve it though, I treated you badly baby, you didn't deserve to go through what you did" I held her hand, rubbing my thumb over the skin softly, "maybe you can give me another chance? I swear I'll change baby, it won't be like the other times, I need to prove to you that I can change, I can be a better man for you" I started to cry again, she winced and got onto my lap, wiping my tears away and kissing me softly.
"I'm an idiot for forgiving you again..but fuck you seem so sincere.." she sighed, smiling softly. "I'll do anything for you baby, name it and i'll do it, I just can't lose you" I said, my voice shaky, rough with emotion.
"I haven't been able to function without you, you complete my world" I caressed her cheek. "Let's go home, I'm tired of living out of a shitty hotel" she giggled, climbing into the passanger seat again.
As we got home she rushed in, running onto our shared bed, "fuck..how I missed this bed" she rolled around in it, I smiled and walked in, laying next to her.
"Tom..?" she turned to me, "yes schatz?" I pulled her closer, looking down at her. "Why did you treat me so badly?" her question hit hard, I didn't really know myself. "Uh..I don't know..I was just stupid and I didn't appreciate the wonderful woman I had in front of me, I was a little intimidated, you were way too good for me and I just thought sabotaging everything would make it better, which now I see was fucking stupid" I groaned, rubbing my temples in frustration.
"I'm just glad you eventually saw how it affected me, I missed you a lot I will admit but I was also hurt and I still am" I nodded, "I know baby..and I'm so sorry, I wish I could take back all the pain" I said, reaching out and grabbing her hips, rubbing them softly.
"You know I'd do anything for you, I would take a bullet straight through my brain just to prove my love to you." She chuckled "baby..chill out" I smirked "sorry..I just want you to know how much I love and appreciate you"
She climbed on top of me, tracing my features with her delicate fingers. "There will be no sunlight if I lose you baby, just like the clouds my eyes will do the same, if you walk away everyday it'll rain" I kissed her softly, she smiled "Tom that's beautiful.." she whispered and kissed me back.
I flipped us over, me hovering over her. "Let me give you the love you deserve, make you feel beautiful.." she nodded and slowly unbuttoned her shirt, revealing black lacey bra.
My head dove into her chest, kissing and sucking softly.
She moaned softly, delicate sounds coming out of her beautiful lips. I reached down and removed her skirt. Her beautiful figure underneath me.
My fingers traced her curves softly, appreciating her beauty. "So, so beautiful..my angel" I whispered, kissing down her stomach and planting a soft kiss on her panties, her hips bucking up slightly.
"Tom..don't tease" she whined, I chuckled and slid her panties off, bending her legs and prying her thighs apart, licking a stripe on her folds, collecting her juices.
I slowly lapped my tongue onto her her clit, sucking softly, "mm!" she moaned loudly, gripping onto the sheets tightly. I smirked, happy to see her so pleasured.
I sneaked my hand up, entering 2 digits into her wetness, stretching her out. "Oh fuck!" she groaned as my fingers curled at her g spot, "is it good baby?" I teased, she nodded and screwed her eyes shut, focusing on the pleasure.
My fingers found their rhythm inside her, thrusting in and out. I could feel her release slowly approaching, her breath coming in short gasps. I increased the pressure on her clit, sucking harder as I felt her about to climax.
I could tell I was driving her wild, her head lolled back and her eyes were tightly shut, legs slightly trembling. "Cum for me baby.." I moaned on her clit, slobbering all over it.
I felt her pussy clench against my fingers as she came hard, a loud high pitched moan leaving her mouth. "So good.." I chuckled, licking up all her juices and climbing up to hover over her again.
I grabbed my clothed erection, "do you want it baby?" she nodded quickly, grabbing at my pants and shoving them off. I grinned at her urgency, pulling my cock out of my boxers and pumping it a few times.
"Can't wait to be inside you again.." I groaned, pressing my tip at her entrance, slowly pushing in. It had been a while since we last fucked, her "hookups" obviously not as big as me.
She cried out, holding onto me tightly, "fuck!", I dragged my hand down to her clit, rubbing slow circles to let her relax. I felt her pussy unclench on my cock, finally being able to thrust in better.
I slowly thrusted, gradually picking up my pace so I didn't hurt her.
Eventually my cock was pounding into her, my grip tight on her hips, holding her into place. "Fuck..so tight" I groaned, my head rolling back.
"Mmm! Fuck!" she moaned, feeling my tip hit her g spot, I leaned down and started to suck her nipples softly, earning a loud groan from her. My tongue swirled against her sensitive buds, making her throw her head back.
"Cum for me pretty girl.." I grunted, picking up my pace again and slamming into her, the tension building in my stomach as I felt my release approach, nails digging into her hips.
"Mmh! Oh shit!" she cried out, wrapping her arms around me and holding me close, her pussy clenching around my cock, increasing the amount of pleasure I was recieving.
I felt her body shudder under me, her orgasm washing over her and her juices painting my cock, I groaned and came inside her, shooting my load deep into her and making sure to keep thrusting so it could stay in.
I sighed and collapsed on top of her, cock still buried deep inside her hole. "I missed you so much baby..I swear i'll never ever hurt you again, I was so stupid to treat you that way" I winced "please forgive me and take me back.." she frowned at my pain, kissing me softly.
"I know you're sorry baby, it'll take a while for me to trust you again but we can try one more time, don't blow it" she sighed, I sighed in relief, peppering kisses all over her face and flipping us over so that she was on top of my chest, "get some rest baby" I whispered into her hair.
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tags: @itsmealaiah @tomkaulitzloverr @tomscumdump @tomscumdoll @bkaulitzlover @ballhair @estxkios @ge-billsgf @charliesgoodboy
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deluweil · 1 day
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To be honest the way part of the fandom has treated this Tommy character as a god makes me dislike him more. Unfortunately the Buck bi arc was tainted for me because it all feels force. Also what doesn't help is that Eddie was to much involved in that storyline.
The way people are acting like it's a perfect relationship and yet we barely saw them together feels just weird.
Also I don't like how some literally push Eddie away for this new white man.
This is Taylor Kelly all over again. The sad part is that the season is short and people wAnt to to spend their time giving more to the new guy.
I hope him and Marisol are gone, but I'm afraid. These two characters took the joy out of the Buck and Eddie storyline for me.
The fandom, I think, in this case, is definitely the problem here,
Lou is completely unassuming and enjoying the process and being a buddie shipper just like us - if one actually bothers to read the interviews and not just pick and choose what to talk about.
That is what makes me like Lou.
The fandom has somehow glorified Tommy's character after a couple of episodes and yeah it rubs the wrong way, because, what about the story we had so far?
Is season 7 a reset to 911? and everything that came before that doesn't count? Why not just make it 911 abc pilot then?
I don't think that's the case, but I think the last minute switch between Buck and Eddie kind of ruined it for the Tim because, yes, in a way it feels forced and out of left field.
Supposed that Buck was indeed vying for Tommy's attention, why do it like that? and why involve Eddie in the first place?
I have a lot of questions and my main problem here is not that Buck is experimenting with Tommy, it's the way they practically propelled this ship off the cliff into a dangerous spin, they went from zero to 200 in a second. - That is not how you build a relationship.
You don't try to figure out what you want, mess up the first date, then invite said date to an apology coffee and then invite him to family wedding on the way. It just doesn't work that way.
I may be straight, but I have gay and bi and lesbian friends, neither one of them has ever brought a second or even a third date to so much as a friends get together before they were sure that this is something that would last, before they brought the intended victim to be judged by friends and family.
And people who talk about Tommy as being established in the 118 family, that is not true. He has a connection with Chimney in that that he owes him his life and an acquaintance with Hen, who is clearly not very fond of him, because of obvious past she had with him and their old house before Bobby came into the picture. - Remember - Chimney was her ONLY lifeline in that house.
Tommy was not a liked character before.
Arguably Buck had more history with Taylor than he did with Tommy (which is none at all) - But Taylor is a strong opinionated and often self-serving woman (not unlike Buck mind you), emphasis on woman. - That is the only reason she never stood a chance. Because the writers could have made her and Buck the greatest love story this show has seen, but they continuously managed to ruin any fondness for any female LI to ever grace that set.
And this season is short, to bring in a new LI kinda defeats the purpose of re-establishing the team and this show, because it does feel the same as any of Buck's old relationships that were being pushed for the benefit of 'god forbid Buck actually learns how to be alone and healthy and happy' - the only thing that changed in Buck this season is his sexuality and nothing else, and that vexes me.
My problem is not with Tommy, it's the perpetuation of 'poor baby Buck' society. - I love Oliver and I love Buck - I am tired of the ever repeating pattern of forgiveness for his self serving ways without any accountability that we keep seeing.
I don't think Buck's or even Eddie's firsts or you know what? even seconds should be each other, I am more than happy to make this journey with them, but let it be a marathon not a sprint to the finish line - they knew they would get renewed for another season, they could have written and built it better than what we got - because the moment they switched gears after the second episode, the story became written in the same messy last minute way both S4 and most of S5 were written.
There is no grand plan, at this point they are merely winging it and see where the wind takes them. - And that is idiotic, they had SO MUCH TIME to make this a well written story with the strike and long break after that, to write as they film is lazy and stupid and mostly childish.
And yes this is Taylor all over again, not in that they are the same type of people, but that Buck is jumping head first into a relationship without actually knowing how he got there. - Bobby said that himself - and it is the same, because who in their right mind invite a second (kinda) date to a family event? Like dude have you ever dated before? Do you how this works?
It is a LOT of pressure and not even for Buck himself - because he brought this on himself - but rather for Tommy (aka the intended victim) to be first introduced to the family after a couple of dates when he himself has no idea where he and Buck are standing.
Marisol, has indeed sucked the joy out of the Eddie's story, I don't get why do either of the boys had to be in a relationship starting this season to begin with. Like, she is literally a handbag, the token hetero symbol, so to speak, what she is doing there? is beyond me.
The catholic guilt of her being a nun is bullshit, and as Bobby said himself, Eddie has no problem committing to certain people/things. She serves no purpose this season other than a seat warmer/ glorified babysitter since Buck is otherwise engaged.
They could have gone for Eddie finding his way in the department, Eddie dealing with his mommy issues, Eddie trying to figure out what and who he wants in his life, Eddie trying to navigate Chris' terrible teenage years.
They could have explored the fact that a guy going with his supposed gf/wife in the golf course checking Eddie's hot ass (6X17) - Oh wait, they were going to... the ground for Eddie's coming out was all laid out and they took a sharp turn to left field in the second episode of S7 and made it all about Buck again, because the Natalia actress couldn't come?? what kind of a weak ass reason is that?
And yes, the cliche of receiving the odd white man out (who played a controversial role in early seasons) rather than the regular casted poc male or the guest starring woman, for that matter, better is all kind of f-ed up, but no one would talk about that, of course. 👀
Anyway, I am hoping that whatever is coming next will be worthy of our time and attention because so far we got about more of the same as far as Buck and Eddie are concerned - except that Buck has just broaden his variety and has a bigger pallet of mate choosing at his disposal.
I have two very close bi friends, so I know how their minds work, because God knows they share with me more than I ever wanted to know lol. And one of them is watching 911 with me and she is happy for the rep as well, but unhappy with how it was developed too.
At the moment, I have decided to put any Buck and Eddie topics aside and just want to get the LONG AWAITED Madney wedding, if anyone deserve a happy ending, it's them. ❤️
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sunforgrace · 6 months
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rowena gave them couples counseling
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anticanonsposts · 5 months
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sex drought :(
nsfw-mdni, but also fluff
One time you go through a sex drought because he accidentally hurt you during sex
everything was going fine...
you guys were having sex in missionary and it was feeling amazing
but then...
he reached his right arm up and tried to grab your right wrist
(he was gonna bring your hand down so you could feel where your bodies were connected)
however you tried to reposition and prop yourself up on your elbows at the same time
and his knuckles collided with the side of your temple
his eyes shoot to you to see if you're ok and you verbally assure him you are
however seconds later you start crying while still telling him you are fine
i do not mean this lightly when i say this man freaks the fuck out
he immediately pulls away from you (and out of you) positioning you so you are in more of a sitting up position
he gently cradles your head and kisses whee he bumped into you
this is followed by man 'bitte bitte' 'i'm so sorry, please forgive me schatz'
you repeatedly say that its ok but he just shakes his head
for the next couple weeks anytime you mention needing to get up and grab something or do something he is already up at the speed of light, grabbing it for you
god forbid there is a small red mark on your face that sticks around for a couple days and guy's heart WRENCHES every time he notices it
even after a lot of reassurance that you were fine and you understood it was an accident he would not touch you sexually for so long (probably like a week and a half)
during this time no matter how much you teased, begged, pleaded with him he would not fuck you....ok jk
after weighing the pros and cons he would resort to just giving you head but would not allow you to do anything for him afterward
(he would usually just go rub one out in the bathroom afterwards)
when you finally do have sex again, the first few times he treats you like you are quite literally made of glass
and insists that you be the one in charge, calling the shots, feels a lot of relief when you are on top of him because he sees it as less risky
he just feels so bad that he hurt his perfect fucking angel and will probably always remember this
he always just wants to make you feel so safe with him and doesn't want anything to threaten that
(I have an increasingly unhealthy attachment to this man)
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DPXDC: I wanna be like most girls ghosts.
or Danny: What should I do to make my mom happy?
or ~Danny deserves a little teenage rebellion as a treat~
Maddie: I just want this damned Phantom to stop pretending to be a hero! All ghosts are pure evil, who is he trying to deceive? Danny: Oh, really? And Danny took it personally.
It’s not Danny’s fault that he’s a good kid and wants to make his parents happy. But why would he have to be a monster to make them happy? Why must they hate him to be happy?
Danny’s obsession was going crazy.
Well, when your own parents call you a monster in the face, it hurts. Why do they always believe that only their opinion is the absolute truth? They have no idea how much worse things would be if at least some of the ghosts really behaved the way Maddie and Jack think they’re supposed to. If he really is evil by nature, is there any point in fighting his own fate? They want to see him as a villain, he will become one. He will. He just needs a little help and practice. And not bring it to the level when Clockwork has to clean up his mess. Poor guy is without a vacation for how long? Couple of millennia?
Johnny 13: Sup. Danny: F*ck off, Johnny, I’m not in the mood. Busy thinking about world domination. Get out of here or I’ll call Kitty. Johnny 13: What’s wrong? You’re usually so grouchy only towards the end of the week. Danny: Nothing. Just parents. Again. They are wonderful but I can’t help but feel sometimes that they, em… Johnny 13: Suck? Danny: Right…Damn. I’m a terrible son. Maybe something is wrong with me. Johnny 13: What? No, no, dude. You’re just growing up. And you’re a little late, usually teenagers go through that stage before they graduate. Well, you’ve probably been busy with other issues, so just missed it. Danny: I wonder whose fault it is. Aren’t there ghosts who enjoyed to ruin my life in the middle of school day?
Johnny 13: Oh, bother. Anyway, you’re entering a beautiful time of emancipation, where you’re going to shape your own view of life and, along the way, to get drunk on cheap alcohol at parties, maybe to go to jail and to become the greatest disappointment to your family..And then you will be ashamed to remember it for about the next ten years. Danny: Well, it looks like I’ve already done two out of three additional things. Great success. Johnny 13: When did you get drunk? Danny: I didn’t. Johnny 13: Oh. Want to fix that? Danny: What? No. What an idiot wants to add a headache to his problems? Johnny 13: Well, your loss, then I’ll go terrorize the bars of Gotham alone and no one can stop me. Let’s see what your boyfriend will say about it. ~~~~~ Danny: Bartender, another shot of Dead Man’s Fingers, please. Red Hood: Babe, haven’t you had enough? Danny: Have you ever felt that no matter how hard you try, no matter how many sacrifices you make, in their eyes you’ll always be nothing more than a monster? Nothing more than a mistake? Oh, Death doesn’t give people like me a break. Red Hood: …I’ll have what he’s having. *gives the bartender a sign to switch the rum shots to a batburger milkshake for them, and starts talking to Danny so that he doesn’t understand Hood's scams*
~~~~~
Johnny 13: Other people’s kids are growing up so fast. It seems like yesterday he didn’t know how to shoot ectoblast, and now.. Kitty: Stop trying to make me feel bad, we’re leaving. Johnny 13: But the boy needs our support, honey boo!
~~~~~
Danny: I'm fine. Really, I am. This isn’t the first time mom’s called me a monster. She often called me that when she was upset with my behavior in my childhood. Huh, it's even funny. Jason: There’s nothing funny about that. Danny: No, you don’t understand. Looking back, I was really a very active child and didn’t know when to stop. Not surprisingly that I often annoyed my parents. They’re very busy people, and Jazz couldn’t always keep an eye on me. And I was often afraid to go to sleep alone because there were shadows in the darkness of my room. Well, I used to think they were. But I pretended everything was okay to not distract parents from work. Jason: Hey, it’s not your fault. You were a child. Obviously, kiddo requires a lot of attention, they must have understood that. You are the second child in the family, right? Danny: Well, Jazz was different. I don’t know. Anyway, I thought if the monsters behind the curtain and under the bed were just like me, well, according to my mom, you know, then they wouldn’t want to hurt me. And since they look after me, they are friends. So I kinda greeted all the suspicious noises and howls. Huh, I was a strange kid. Jason: If you smile at someone in the dark alley right now that someone is more likely to wet themselves or faint. Danny: Rude! I’m not that scary. Admit that I’m adorable. Do it right now. Jason: Stunning, darling. But still carry a gun and a knife, please. My childhood taught me that what's hiding in the dark is worth beating up. Danny: Come on, what should I be afraid of? Death? Anyway, I want to try this shit. Like, the inevitable one. Being a bad boy, you know? Hood *raises eyebrows*. Danny: Oh damn it man, I'm talking about ghostliness. I want to try to be like most of dead ones. I want to unleash my side of the trickster and the villain. But only a little bit. I have to be supervised so that things don't go too far. Would you help me, honey?
~~~~~2 hours later~~~~
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~~~~~
Goons used to expect a lot of weirdness from working with the boss.
Sometimes Bruce Wayne would go into their base and yell at the Red Hood like he's one of his kids. Of course Wayne's well-known as 'Gotta adopt them all' but the guy must really suffer from insomnia to count the Red Hood into his brood of chicks several times. Sometimes the boss would fight Robin or Nightwing over differences in morals…or for biscuits. It varied from moment to moment. Sometimes the boss caught the local street children, fed them and taught them to steal correctly. And most of the foundlings stayed with them under their protection.
To make a long story short, Red Hood is not the typical crime lord that some of them had to deal with before. Which is a blessing. Thanks Lord for the health insurance. But still the crime lord. Which means he's still scary, and sometimes deadly.
Anyway, when the boss brought in a guy who looked more civilian than any civilian in the whole Gotham and said he was going to be their intern, they thought it was a joke at first. Despite the fact that Hood was not in the habit of joking while working.
The teenager was too well-mannered and sweet to come from Crime Alley. Phil thought the guy was gonna run when he saw the first murder, Jessica didn’t think the domestic boy wouldn’t chicken out at the sight of a fight. But arguing with a boss’s orders in their profession is like asking for a bullet in the head, so these conversations were taking place outside of their boss's sight. God, how can they teach him anything? What do you take from a boy who’s only good to do the coffee run? Fenton will fall if they’ll give him something heavier than 10 pounds. And then boss will yell at them because he treats the new guy like a princess on a pea. Well, at least that’s what they thought until the boss decided to give the new guy his own assignments:
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~~~~~
Red Hood: So, what have you learned during your internship, my young Padawan? Danny: Well, it looks like I’m gonna suck at being a criminal mastermind. I think I may have to find myself some other profession. Red Hood: Come on, you just need a little more practice. Danny: Thank you but I don’t think that’s fit my obsession that good. Don't misunderstand me, I wanna be like most ghosts. But I was wrong to go to hit that goal only base on human stereotypes about my nature. Red Hood: What a pity. The newbies just learned not to flinch when you walk in. But, to be honest, I'm not gonna miss the adrenaline-boosting roller coaster of you at work. Danny: Oh, and I guess to hold on to the concept of humanity was really stupid too. I clearly no longer fit in and I’m finally ready to accept that. So, hopefully, if you get into trouble, you can rely on my ghostliness and call for help. I am the spirit of many talents and of my word. I can haunt your enemies or walk through the walls of Arkham Asylum. Whatever you need, I’ll be here. Red Hood: I’ll bear that in mind.
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eddiernunson · 6 months
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Nice to Meet You, Where You Been? | Eddie Munson x f!Reader | 18+
Thank you to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing, you're the best!
Summary: your college roommate takes you to the annual Harrington Halloween Party, where you expect to do nothing but get drunk and dance for a night. That was...until you turn around to the person dancing against you to Eddie fucking Munson.
Warnings: strangers to lovers, praise/degradation, hook-up at a party, daddy kink, creampie, no protection, slow ish build up, size kink? maybe?, hooking up under the influence
I had a whole ass plan to write for KinkTober but executive dysfunction took over. Hopefully this makes up for it...maybe.
I have another Halloween themed fic from last year, EddiexReader with Steve if anyone is interested
Word Count: 6.1k
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You sit in the backseat of your roommate’s boyfriend’s beater, the music bumping through the stereo as you make your way to what is supposedly the biggest Halloween party of every year. Your roommate spent the beginning of your fall semester hyping up this party as the best place to be on a Halloween night. Her insistence was charming, and you were looking for an excuse to get drunk. So, now you are watching as you pass by Halloween decorations and children dressed in costumes going Trick-or-Treating.
You don't pay much attention to what they're saying, the gist of it reminiscing on the Halloween parties they had attended in the past. Your roommate had made it very clear from the start that this guy, whatever his name was, his Halloween parties were legendary in town. He has only been throwing them for a handful of years, but if you were a young adult in rural Hawkins on Halloween night, chances are you were at this party.
You start to wonder how big this guy’s house must be if a couple hundred people have been attending every year, and it sounded like he even encouraged it.
You can hear the music bumping from the house before you even see it. It's hard to miss, a cluster of cars in the neighborhood, several people walking up the lawn towards the wide-open door. Your roommate’s boyfriend parks down the street, a spot that is probably fine to park overnight due to the nature of the party.
If there is to be a single sober soul at this party, they would be a rare sight.
You tug at your costume as you walk behind the two of them, strutting arm in arm. They’re wearing a matching couple’s costume, as salt and pepper. It’s something they could come up with last minute, him wearing a black shirt for pepper and her a white dress for salt. Their costume is minimal, and certainly they’ll get asked frequently what they’re supposed to be, but when everyone’s intoxicated, you suppose it won’t matter much.
You’re dressed as your favorite iconic Batman villain, Poison Ivy. You loved the character from the DC comics as you grew up and having a year away from your parents and in a different town, you figured it might be a time to try a new daring costume. So here you walk, arms crossed in a small green dress with fake vines pinned across your chest. You opted for some dramatic green eyeshadow and bright red lips, hoping your makeup and costume will sell the look.
Your ears are nearly bursting as you cross the threshold to the front door of the massive house from the loud bumping music. The pop music is a bit obnoxious, but you’re sure you won’t care once some alcohol is in your system.
Your roommate seems to remember you exist, escaping her boyfriend’s arms for the moment and intertwining her arm around yours. She immediately guides you to the kitchen where stacks of red solo cups are sitting, surrounded by bottles of alcohol and soda. “Holy shit.” You mutter.
“I know.” She giggles, handing you a cup and some tequila.
“No thanks.” You push it back, knowing what exactly tequila does to you. “I’ll just do a vodka-sprite.”
As you’re pouring, in waddles a lanky dude with brown curled hair and freckles scattered on his pale skin.  “Oh hey, Mandy!” He greets her, stumbling as he toasts his cup. “Haven’t seen you in a while! How’s that boyfriend of yours?” He asks, spinning the lid of the alcohol he’s holding absentmindedly, causing it to flick off into the distance.  
“Nate’s good, I think he’s taking over your stereo, though.” She says, moving the bottles around to make Nate’s drink, as well.
“As per usual.” He laughs, pouring a large quantity of said tequila into his cup.
Mandy seems to realize something halfway through her sip. “Oh shit!” She sputters out, a drip of alcohol leaving her mouth. “Sorry, I forgot you two don’t know each other, yet. Y/N, this is Steve. Steve, Y/N.”
“Hi.” You greet him shyly, his confidence radiating, but very intimidating.
“Hello. Me casa e su casa, and whatever, whatever. Can I just ask, who are you supposed to be?” He asks you, gesturing to your costume.
“Oh, Poison Ivy.” You explain to him, sipping on your concoction and wincing when you realize you’ve poured way too much.
Steve blinks at you, seemingly trying to make sense of your costume. “You’re—you’re a plant?”
You laugh, not in the mood to explain comic book villains to someone who clearly doesn’t know anything about them. “Yeah, sure.”
“Oh, cool!” Steve laughs, taking a big sip of his drink.
“Hey, Steve, you see much of Munson these days?” Mandy asks him, wiping her face from the excess drink surrounding her mouth.
How wonderful, more people you don’t know. Hawkins is the smallest town you’ve ever seen; everyone seems to know of everyone.
“Eddie? Yeah, he should be here tonight actually. Super dork, dressed as some character from Star Wars. Or at least I think it’s Star Wars.” He mutters, rolling his eyes in obvious affection for his friends. “He’s matching with Henderson and Wheeler.”
They shake their heads together in tandem at their supposedly dorky friends. As a Star Wars fan, however, you were fine, ecstatic even to hear that there were souls brave enough to dress up as dorky characters and that you weren’t the only one.
You follow Mandy into the living room, now bumping with a tape mix that Nate apparently brought to the party. It's a damn blast, everyone in the living room dancing surrounded by sweaty bodies, finally finding some joy as the strong drink makes you lose your inhibitions. As you continue dancing, suddenly you find yourself in a huddle of people, Mandy and Nate both dancing by you, but lost in their own drunken haze. You don’t care about that. However, something in your mind as you tell yourself you don’t care tells you to care about the person who’s been up against your back for God knows how long.
They have a good rhythm, and they weren’t all too touchy so nothing in your head raised any red flags. You turn around to face the stranger, and it’s like you forget how to breathe. One of his hands is placed on your hip, a smile on his face giving way to dimples that make you swoon. “Hi.” He greets you. You can’t quite hear it over the music, but you can certainly read his lips. Isn’t all that hard to decipher.
You smile back to him, letting a forearm rest on his shoulder. Who were you to deny such a pretty person? His wide smile expands even more, adding some pressure to your hip. The weight and size of his hand sends a thrill through you, and there’s a level of horniness that’s coming from you that you didn’t even know you could have.
Your drink is eventually finished, the cup dropped to the floor, forgetting to bother to throw it away. The gorgeous stranger pulls you in closer and closer as you continue to dance with him, his hands never dipping down past your waist, but you can tell by the steadiness of his grip that he knows how to use them. Usually, eye contact this intense would cause you to retract, looking away after that first glance. This eye contact only makes you want him more, his brown eyes exuding a type of lust you’ve never experienced before.
Or…were you just picturing this?
The hand that rested on your hip moves to frame your face, slender fingers brushing your cheek, caressing it for a half a moment. The hand moves down to hook under your chin, his thumb swiping across your bottom lip. His eyes very obviously stare at your lips, silently asking you for permission. When his tongue licks his bottom lip you nod eagerly, one hand moving to his black curls that you have been itching to touch as long as you’ve faced him.
Somehow, your ears muffle out the deafening music in favor of the chuckle that leaves his mouth. Before you could even register your heartbeat loud in your ears, he bends down to kiss you, and for the first time your brain computes how much taller he is than you. Any thought you might’ve had seems to evacuate the moment his soft lips meet yours. He kisses you with an expertise that makes you irrationally jealous of any other person who’s had the opportunity before you. He draws a sharp inhale as you deepen the kiss, offering more slobber and spit for him to wholeheartedly accept.
His hands tangle in your curled hair, thumbs caressing your face on either side. Something you're learning about this stranger is that he kisses with his whole body, and he knows how to do it well. His teeth graze against your bottom lip, tugging on it lightly. You whimper, shoving your tongue down his throat. A deep laugh escapes his throat as he meets your enthusiasm. He kisses the corner of your mouth, your cheek, and down to your collarbone. You barely sigh into it when his lips leave your collarbone, looking at you with remorse.
Uh oh. Not good. Were you the worst kisser and he was going to go find someone else worthy of his magical skills?
“Sorry, gotta piss. Beer’s hittin’ hard.” He shouts over the music, his thumb gesturing toward where you guessed the bathroom was.
“Ok. I’m gonna go get another drink.” You tell him, noting the red lipstick now all over his lips. “You got some uh…some lipstick there…hold on…” You reach out to wipe it for him, but he deflects, ducking from your thumb humorously.
“Uh…no thanks. I wear this shit with pride.” He explains, giving you a wink. “Meet you in the kitchen.”
You nod, suddenly full of nerves. You have been all over this guy for the last…however long, you couldn’t even tell. And now you’re realizing, he might be a decent dude on top of being a fantastic kisser.
Your legs carry you into the kitchen, running into Mandy and Nate. You weren’t sure where they’d been, having been lost in your own little world.
“Hi, babe!” She greets you, alcohol sharp on her breath. Whoa. She has had a lot more than you have. “I missed you, where the hell you been?”
You giggle, deciding to go for the tequila. After all, it was your literal liquid courage. And if you wanted to get that man’s fingers down your panties tonight, you were gonna need some. “Making out with the hottest guy I’ve ever seen in my life.” You proudly proclaim, taking a big sip of just straight tequila before adding some Sprite.
“Oh my god!” She squeals, letting go and forgetting about Nate’s existence. “Holy shit, I’m so fucking proud!” Speaking of him…he waltzes into the kitchen, grabbing a cup right by you and winking, apparently unseen by Mandy. “Shit, I’ve been looking for you!” She tells him, drunkenly tapping her hand on his bicep. “Hey, Y/N! This is Eddie. Remember? The dork Steve talked about earlier?”
Ouch. Mandy has no filter, as of course, she's drunk, but she didn’t have to be rude.
At least now you have a name for him. You were starting to feel bad. “Oh, I’m acquainted.” You tell her, sharing a smirk with Eddie.
“Seriously? Cool.” Mandy answers, not getting the hint. You gesture with your eyes alone to Mandy that Eddie was the guy you were talking about just a few moments ago. She gets it, but apparently forgets all about subtlety. “Wait, Eddie Munson is the hottest guy you’ve ever seen in your life?” She asks you incredulously, like it's the most unbelievable thing she's ever heard.
“Thanks, Mandy.” You grit out, teeth clenched.
“Oops.” She grimaces, grabbing Nate's hand. “We’re gonna go find a spot on the couch to make out. Sorry!”
You roll your eyes affectionately, knowing she meant no harm. Did she have to say it, though?
The smirk on Eddie’s face says everything without saying a word. “So, the hottest guy you’ve ever seen, huh?” He asks, looking incredibly proud of the fact.
You knock your tequila back, needing more liquid courage. “Yep. Hottest.”
His eyebrow raises, and he takes a big sip of his own drink. Maybe he needs his own courage. “Well, you’re probably the sexiest damn Poison Ivy I’ve ever seen.” He smirks, leering at you. His eyes blatantly rake up and down your body, giving you a surge in confidence. “You’re like a little sexy nugget of weed.” He laughs, his words slightly slurred.
“Wait, you get that I’m Poison Ivy?” You ask, finally assessing his costume. Oh, he’s Vader without the mask. “I mean I guess you are the dork they talked about earlier.” Eddie seems slightly sunken by this. “Don’t worry,” you tell him theatrically. “I’m a massive dork, myself.”
He perks up, pulling you in by the waist. “What do you say we find a room upstairs?” He asks, taking another big sip of his drink.
You raise your cup back to your lips, knocking the remainder down fast. “I say, lead the way.”
He grabs you by the hand and leads you up the stairs, pushing some people out of the way that were blocking it in the middle of a conversation. As he leads you down the hall, the music somewhat fades out and you can hear him muttering under his breath. “We better find a guest room cause I’m not hooking up in Harrington’s room, and I’ll be damned if I hook up in his parents' room.”
From that, you’re able to assess that he’s over here enough to know which room belongs to whom. He knocks on one of the doors, swearing softly when someone shouts out. He does it twice more, meeting the same result. “Ok.” He sighs, fingers crossed. He knocks twice, no answer. He knocks once more for good measure, and it can be said that there is definitely no one inside. “Thank fuck.”
As soon as you’re through the door he turns the dimmer switches on lightly and locks the door. You take off the vines, letting the pins and fake plants fall to the floor to make it easier for him to climb on you.
He watches you from the four postered bed, still head to toe in what you now noticed was the caped costume that Darth Vader wears. “So, we don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, by the way. If you wanna do hand stuff, we’ll do hand stuff.”
Your gut swoops at his consideration and empathy. He seems to truly care about your comfortability rather than him getting off. You walk to him, swiping off all accessories you wore, including your shoes. You straddle his lap, pushing on him lightly so he falls back onto the bed. You attack his lips with your own, attempting to show how much his consideration for you already has you soaked. “I will do” you whisper in between a handful of kisses, “anything you want me to,” you tell him, starting to grind the tent you feel poking past your dress. “Within reason.” You add for good measure, not quite that down for anything. But if he wants to fuck you, you’re down. You’re so down. You’re so down bad.
“Fuck…do that again.” He asks, holding your hips. You comply, grinding your wet heat against him, teasing yourself, but loving the expression on his face. It's ethereal. “Fuck, baby. You barely touched me, and you already have me falling apart.”
This makes you smile with pride. A huff of laughter escapes your lips, sighing deeply as you can feel his erection growing. The fact that this man is as hard as he is when he’s this good looking is the biggest compliment in the world. You wrap his lips in a kiss again, your tongue peeking out to lick across his lip, managing to tug yet another moan out of him. You relish in the tone, the whimper that follows right after it. He really isn’t afraid to tell you how much he is enjoying what the two of you are doing.
As you continue to explore his tequila-scented mouth, both of his hands cup your ass, feeling his limber fingers bunch up the fabric of the bright green dress you’re wearing. He takes his time, giving you every minute to communicate any second thoughts. You moan impatiently, encouraging him to get under there already.
He chuckles, pulling the rest of the material up swiftly. His fingers grab at the skin of your barely covered ass cheeks roughly, the friction burning in the best way. A whimper escapes your throat, your mouth filling with the taste of him as your tongues meet. You’re sure he’s gripping those cheeks hard enough to bruise, not that you mind.
An increasing need has been growing since you first laid eyes on him, the need for him to touch you in the most sinful of ways. While his touch on your ass is electric, you are ready for much more. Your whimpers echo the thought, feeling needy for more of his touch, your hip movements going from fluid and purposeful to rigid and needy.
“What do you need, hmm?” He asks in-between kisses, one hand pushing up your dress to your waist as it caresses your bare hip. “Use your words, beautiful.”
“Need you to touch me,” the thought leaves your lips without your permission. How dare your brain betray you like that?
Eddie starts to kiss at your jaw, switching between nibbles and his tongue deliciously lapping at the skin. “Like how?” He asks in intervals, his voice soft, yet demanding. “Like this?” He grabs harshly at your ass, nails digging into the soft flesh. “Like this?” He asks again, tingles radiating down your skin as he lightly grazes your hip bone. “Or…like this?” His hand that rested on your hip bone flutters down to where heat radiates off your core, getting a feel of your soaked panties. “Oh my god, you’re so fucking wet.” He mutters, putting some pressure at the top of your mound.
Your hips start desperately grinding against his fingers, needing him to touch you. “Can you blame me?” You ask him, breath stuttering through it.
“Are you trying to flatter me?” He asks, pausing his pressure momentarily and backing off to study you. You stutter through an empty response, and he laughs kindly. “Cause flattery works, sweetheart.” His fingers move past the cotton barrier he's been making small circles against, delicately tracing along the wetness of your folds. You’re so slick, it’s like a damn slip and slide. The moment his fingers make contact with you, they’re soaked and in your juices.
“Oh shit—” you stutter, grinding on him helplessly. You can barely focus, your arms weak as you’re suddenly unable to hold your weight as you collapse on him. He's not touching you purposely, but just the feel of him sends a ripple down your spine. “Feels good.”
“Hmm.” He answers, noting the way you’re writhing so beautifully on top of him. He knew he would have you in a mess. In fact, he looked forward to it from the moment he saw you. He meticulously moves you onto your back, taking in your wide-eyed stare with a smirk. “Gonna take these off.” He mutters, fingers moving to the waistband of your panties. “Need a good look at you.”
You’re not entirely sure what he means until you see the look on his face as he stares at your pussy for the first time. His darkened stare, the slack smile he wears as he stares at you. Well not you, just the most vulnerable part of you. You’ve had a bit of experience in high school, but no one ever looked at your pussy like this. Like…it’s…
“Beautiful.” Eddie whispers, licking his lips. You watch him as he takes you in, admiring how wanted he makes you feel. Without a warning he lurches forward in between your legs, his tongue licking one long strip up your slick. Your thighs convulse, the pleasure so red hot, you can’t control the choked-out moan that escapes your lips if you tried. “Oh, you’re shaking, baby.”
His tongue moves more purposely to your clit, sucking on it and tapping with his tongue repeatedly. Your thighs clamp around his face, tensing up as every goddamn nerve is set on fire. You feel a slight huff of laughter against your puffy clit, the breath tickling you, causing you to giggle from the sensation. The giggle leads into a whimper, the small movements of his tongue sending you into overdrive. “Feels so—oh my god—I—” You stutter, unable to finish a single sentence.
He tugs your legs, forcing your knees against your chest to get even closer. A fierce heat starts in your stomach, startling the hell out of you. A great build slowly moves you, pushing you step by step over a high you’ve never reached before. Your stomach has never coiled so tightly, the heat never so intense. “Too much, too much.”
“You’re almost there, sweetheart.” He encourages you, watching every muscle in your legs tighten and feeling your abdomen tighten and release. “Oh, it’s gonna feel so good, baby. Wanna see you cum for me, see you fall apart, hear that pretty little mouth make the prettiest noises.”
Eddie slips a finger in, pumping it slowly at first, building up the speed quickly as he continues sucking. There’s something in you telling you to be embarrassed at how quickly your orgasm has snuck up on you, but from the foreplay of his expert lips and the mind-numbing words, it only makes sense.
“Cl-close…” You manage out, the heat making your way through your body, even making a stop in your head.
“Let me see you come apart, sweetheart.” He tells you, working his fingers at an unmatched rate.
The sensation sends you over the edge, your extremities shaking uncontrollably. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, a near primal moan leaves your mouth, a sound you didn’t even know you had the capability of making.
It takes you a minute to recover, Eddie working you through your whole orgasm and gently kissing your thighs until you come back to. He’s patient, waiting until your breathing slows down, kissing his way up your half-dressed torso. Eddie rests his body on yours, the tent in his pants meeting the heat of your center as his forearms support his weight on either side of your head. His thumbs sway at your temple, slowly watching as your eyes lose their glaze.
Your vision finally focuses back on him, his soft smile on his face welcoming as he watches you. His legs tense up, his muscles spasming as he resists thrusting into your heat. It’s teasing you, your hips accidentally moving upwards to meet the now wet stain on his polyester costume. “You’re wearing too much.” You tell him, whining softly.
“I’m sorry, should I take these off?” He asks, kissing you rapidly on the face right after. “Or if you’re done, I don’t blame you.”
“Done?” You ask incredulously. “Oh no, I’m not even close to done.” You tell him, giggling when he gives you a smirk.
“Just checking, sweetheart.” Eddie replies, kissing you rapidly again.
You’re finally back on earth, your hands reaching around him to look for where his costume opens. You had a feeling it would open from the back. You pull each Velcro apart one by one, your hands telling you as you move down that he’s not wearing anything underneath. You don't know if it's odd or the hottest thing in the world. Both, definitely both.
Your nails scratch at his skin at the last one, finally taking the shoulders off. You gasp as he helps you take out each arm awkwardly, only because you could finally see all the tattoos that his costume has covered up. “Holy shit.” You mutter, hands reaching out to palm at each one.
As he mouths at your neck, you push the rest of his costume down, figuring out it was a one piece. Ok. Steve might’ve been right about calling him a dork. But with his cunnilingus skills, who fucking cares? “You wanna fuck?” He asks, making his way down your neck, one hickey at a time.
You wrap your legs around his waist, tugging him down so the thin fabric meets your soaked pussy even harder. “Please?”
“When you ask so nicely, how could I deny?” He answers, leaving one last final nibble on your shoulder. He gets up without a warning, and you whine pathetically. “Jus’ takin off my pants sweetheart. Can’t put my dick in you if it’s still covered.”
You watch him pull down his pants, teasing you as it makes its way down his torso, his treasure trail, the v-line, you start drooling the moment his cock pops out. You figured he was big from his bulge pressed against you, but the material was apparently holding him back from his true length. You spend a good minute staring at it, how pink the head is, how thick he looks, it made you nearly feral.
“Enjoying the show?” Eddie asks. You glance back up at his face, heating up when you realize you've stared a lot longer than planned.
“Mmmhmm.” You tell him, not seeing any need to deny.
He lurches forward onto the bed, yanking giggles out of you. His hands roughly move up your torso to take your dress off, moving it over your head. He throws it over his shoulder, eyes raking in your tits like they’re in the Louvre. Hell, he’d take a polaroid and hang it there, despite the risk of security arresting and escorting him out immediately after.
“You are fucking gorgeous, baby.” He mutters, leaning into one of your tits mouthing at the nipple delicately, grazing it with his teeth, turning the mound into a shade of purple.
You can’t help yourself, reaching down to grab his cock. “Need you in me.” You urge him, smiling when he lets out a surprised whimper.
“Fucking—” he stutters out, biting on his lip. “Yeah, yeah, okay. I can do that.” He laughs, and before you have a moment to admire how adorable that was, you feel him line himself up. “Shit, you’re fucking tight.”
You can feel exactly what he means, the head barely pushing in. Even with how wet you are, Eddie's having difficulty pushing into you. Your mouth drops open, panting through it at the blinding pain and pleasure. He pauses, giving you a moment to adjust. “Feels so goddamn good, Ed.” You gasp, blindly reaching for him.
Blindly, because your eyes are unable to stay open from the sheer pleasure that has taken over your body.
“I know, baby I know.” He whispers, holding one hand to your face.
“Ok.”
He pushes in more, eliciting a high-pitched whine out of you. “You have any idea how fucking hot those little noises that you make are?” He asks, his voice husky and strained.
You laugh at his successful attempt at flattery, causing him to whine at the way your pussy tightens around him in sync. “Keep going.”
He pushes in a little bit more, your legs tensing around his torso as the noise caught in your throat is even louder. “You’re taking me so well, baby, what a good girl.” You tighten up at his praise, provoking Eddie to get the idea that praise is something that you desire. “Oh, you liked that, didn’t you, my good girl?” You tighten around him again, Eddie twitching in you as a response.
“More.” You manage out, your voice guttural. He pushes in just a little bit more. “Oh my god, you’re in my fucking stomach, so fucking deep!” You whine, eyes closed as you pulse around him.
“Just a little bit more, baby. You’re doing so well, such a good girl.”
“More.”
He pushes the rest of his cock in, finally able to rest his body on yours. You take your time adjusting to his size, inhaling, and exhaling with purpose as the pain subsides. “That’s a girl, take your time.” He mutters, watching you carefully.
“Kiss me please.” You whisper, opening your eyes to face the intensity radiating from his chocolate brown ones. He leans in for a lush kiss, your legs wrapping around him to pull him in tightly. His hand moves to your tit, playing with the nipple between two of his fingers. Your tongues meet, somehow knowing exactly what the other needs. “You can move now.” You whisper in between kisses.
Eddie, apparently a master at multitasking, lifts his hips without so much as stuttering in the kiss. You expected him to stop, but the new mix of sensation throws you off intensely. His first thrust causes you to shout directly into his mouth. You’re much more prepared for the second thrust, however unprepared for the force behind it. “Yeah?” He asks, pulling back and staring into your eyes.
You nod enthusiastically. “So good. Cock feels…so good.” You whine to him, legs unable to continue holding onto him as tight as they were. Now they’re floating in the air aimlessly, unable to focus on much except for how good and how deep he is. “How…this good?” The question you meant to ask was how he was so good at fucking like this, but your mouth was unable to form a single coherent sentence.
“Barely been in you for a minute, and you’re already cock-drunk, huh?” He borderline mocks you, fucking you faster with each thrust.
You grunt in response, fully accepting the label of cock drunk. “So…good, Eddie!” It’s just…fucking true, which is the only rational thought in your brain for the moment. Others are So Hot, and Big Ass Cock, and finally, Gorgeous fucking body.
“Your pretty pussy is so tight, baby, bein’ such a good girl for me.” Eddie sits up, pulling your ass down to where he can fuck you in a better position where he can hit your g-spot. He rests a hand sideways on your lower tummy, putting slight pressure on it. This sends a blinding hot pleasure into you as he repeatedly hits that spot.
“F-fuck, get-getting cl-close…” you stutter, feeling your tits bounce at the sheer force he's fucking you with.
“This is fucking embarrassing, but so am I, baby.” He mutters, starting to go at a faster rate, which you would've deemed impossible a few seconds ago. “Your pussy is so fucking good, can’t fuckin’ help myself.”
You half giggle, half moan at the flattery, not minding for one moment that he would cum so quickly. After all, he spent the first half paying most of his attention to you, so you understand if he's been pent up. While that is the reality of why, you can’t help but feel like hot shit for making someone as fantastic as Eddie cum so fast. His stamina and willingness to give on top of how gorgeous he is does nothing but boost your ego.
“Cum with me.” You beg him, also on the edge. “Cum in me.”
“Oh my god—” you make his hips stutter, and you smile with pride. “You sure, baby?” He asks, trying to make sure he covers his tracks.
“Cum in me, please, daddy!” It leaves your mouth before you’re unable to stop it, the daddy kink not quite something you break out on the first fuck most of the time.
Eddie, however, is a different breed. He meets the unexpected outburst with a growl, and you swear his cock twitches inside of you. “Of course, baby girl, whatever you want.” He grunts out. “Daddy is gonna fill you the fuck up.” He lurches forward so he’s skin on skin with you again so he can whisper in your ear. “When we go back downstairs, I’m gonna keep your panties, and you're gonna dance with my cum dripping down your fucking legs.” You tighten up around him, telling Eddie this is exactly what you wanted from him. The sweet mixture of praise and degradation makes your head spin with need. “You like that, huh? Of course, you’d like that you fucking slut.” His hips rut harshly against yours and at a stupid crazy speed. “If I catch you trying to clean yourself up, you’re gonna fucking hear about it, got it?”
You nod, entirely thrilled about this.
“Didn’t fuckin hear you, slut.”
“Got it, daddy.” You answer, right on the edge.
“You gonna cum with me, baby girl?” He asks, his voice strained.
“Mmhmm. Waiting for you.”
“Good fucking girl. I’m so close…fuck…gonna—” Eddie is interrupted by his own orgasm, which sends you over the edge with him. It’s not as intense as your last one, so you’re able to pay extra attention to the look on his face. His mouth half open, a deep moan leaving his throat.  Oh god, you’ll definitely be remembering this next time it’s only you and your imagination.
He collapses on you, his chest and forehead covered in sweat. The only sound in the air is you and Eddie catching your breath together. Your breath is finally back in your lungs, but your heart is still racing against his chest. He suddenly sits himself back on his forearms, petting at your forehead and hair gently. “Fuck, please go out with me on Saturday.” He whispers, quietly assessing the expression you wear on your face.
“Huh?” You ask him, unsure you heard him correctly.
“Go out with me on Saturday. Please, I can’t fuck a pussy this good and not take you out on a hot date.” He mutters softly, placing the gentlest of kisses on your lips.
“If you think I’m letting you go after this, you’re fucking insane.” You whisper back, framing his face to grab it for another lush kiss.
Eddie sighs, petting your hair. “Thank fucking god.” He pulls out of you, tugging a whimper out of you. He gives one last kiss, before moving down your torso. You almost ask what he was doing, when you feel two of his fingers push inside you quickly.
Your head jerks up, wondering what in the ever-living hell he's doing.
“Just helping by pushing the cum back in you, baby. Wanted to give you at least a fighting chance before it starts dripping down these stunning thighs of yours.” He places a wet kiss on your thigh, one last quiver radiating through it. “You good to stand up?”
“Hope so.” You laugh, scooching your ass down the plain comforter. Eddie tosses you your dress and gets dressed back into his cheap costume himself.
You assess Eddie, fixing his hair so he doesn’t look so disheveled. “You realize my lipstick is all over your neck and face, right?” You ask him, assessing him in all his post-nut glory. How the fuck is anyone this hot?
“Didn't I tell you earlier that I'm gonna wear this shit with pride, darlin?” He asks you, giving you a smile that makes you melt. “Wanna go downstairs and make-out on Steve's dad’s stupid chair?”
“If we make out I might wanna blow you.” You admit, the effects of the alcohol and the level of his hotness has still completely taken over your brain.
Eddie groans, and you swear his pupils dilate. “Fuck, I’ll take you into the nearest hallway closet if that happens, then you can get on your knees and suck my cock off like a good girl. You just tell me, yeah?”
You giggle as he opens the door and you nod enthusiastically, pretty much already in your head that hooking up with Eddie is nowhere near done.
When you reach the bottom of the steps, Eddie tugs on your hand straight to the leather chair in the corner, having you sit across his lap as his tongue makes its way down your throat again.
Eventually, after a mere ten minutes of teasing, Eddie has to lead you to a hallway closet, where yes, you worship him on your knees with his treasure trail meeting your nose.
That was the best fucking Halloween, ever.
-
Thank you so much for reading! I love to read your comments, replies, and reblogs. As always, reblogging is the best way to support your fic writers on tumblr.
Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinnschesthair @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you @names-were-taken @oddussy420
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coco-loco-nut · 22 days
Note
Hii!
Can I please ask for an angsty fic with Max, where the reader defends him from Jos after not finishing his race in Melbourne...idk if you remember when Max kept his helmet for four hours after a race because he was afraid of what Jos would have done to him after not winning...and the reader basically tells Jos to get lost even if she's like 5'4 and definitely not as intimidating as them both lol.
And then maybe after the win in Suzuka, they "reconcile" but she still reminds him to act right around her boyfriend, who's now a man and not a little boy he could pressure like he once did.
Sorry if it's too long!! Thanks for taking your time and reading my request!
Guard Dog
Pairing: Max x Reader
Summary: You are sick and tired of watching Max take Jos' shit
TW: verbal abuse
A/n: thank you soooo much for the rec, I love writing these out so much <3
requests open masterlist
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"Maxie... are you okay?" you wait patiently by the door to his driver's room, careful not to barge in like Jos would, as you have for the past year since you first witnessed Jos' beratement of his son. He is sitting on the couch with his helmet between his hands. The fire causing an unpleasant start to the race, and you are just glad you got here first.
"I'm okay," his voice cracks and you step into the room, closing the door behind you. "I know it wasn't my fault, but I can't help but feel like it was my fault," Max looks in your eyes, the fire brewing behind them. You were genuinely the sweetest girl he's ever met, and to get you mad took a lot. God help you if Jos shows up, you are tired of Max feeling bad even when he podiums.
"You're right, you didn't do anything wrong, the car failed you today," you stay calm, sitting beside him and cuddling into him. Max stays quiet, enjoying your warmth, and decompressing from the start. He can understand why the fans were so happy to see him lose, in fact, if he wasn't himself, he would join them. No, the fear of his father is what has him on edge. Rightfully so, because a few seconds later the door is slammed open again.
"Max, what the hell did you-" Jos starts and you launch yourself off the couch. Jos and Max were big guys, and you were average height for a woman, 5'6 or so, but you didn't seem like it in that moment.
"Shut the hell up and leave. You have nothing useful to say and you are going to shift blame to Max who had NO fault in the DNF," you snarl, setting yourself up as a barrier between the two, Jos still in the doorway and Max on the couch.
"Girl, I don't know who you think you are, but I am Max's father, and I can-," You cut Jos off before he can continue.
"No, you aren't his father. A father doesn't talk to his son like that, you are simply a man who shares the same last name as Max. A father is someone like Carlos Sainz Sr or Lawrence Stroll. No, you are a man- sorry a boy in a man's body- who can't cope with the fact that he doesn't race anymore and wants the man who shares the same last name with him to be impossibly perfect and win every single race, even when the car breaks down." You sneer at the man. "You need to leave, before I call security and make them remove you," you don't back down, instead you step closer. Max watches in both awe and fear.
"I-"
"Leave, Jos, now. Don't make me repeat myself," you say, practically slamming the door behind him. You turn around and look at Max, seemingly calm and normal. He looks at you bewildered.
"That was the sexiest thing ever. Thank you, Schatje, you didn't have to do that," Max hugs you, a large weight off of his shoulders.
"Of course I did, who else will be your guard dog?" You smile at him, squeezing him tighter. "Now, get changed and get back to the garage," you tell Max, stepping out to the room. You let out a deep breath, surprised with how you treated Jos and stood up for Max. A couple minutes later, Max rejoins you, quickly stopping inside hospitality for a snack.
The two of you avoid Jos, going extremely low contact, not that he was trying to. Jos would never admit it, but he was embarrassed at how you spoke to him, and his retreat allowed him to ignore it. Instead, you and Max enjoyed your time together in Japan. The both of you were aware Jos was there, but chose to ignore it. After Max won, Jos warily approached the two of you.
"I wanted to congratulate you on winning. You drove well," Jos says stiffly, silently calling for a truce. You let Max take the lead on the conversation.
"Thank you," he says, feeling like a little boy again, but accepting the temporary truce.
"It was good seeing you Jos, but we need to go," you interject, sensing the still tense atmosphere. The older man, still a little scared of you despite your sweet demeanor, lets you go, not quite willing to cross you again.
"Love you, Maxie"
"Love you too, Schatje,"
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milfsloverblog · 23 days
Text
Secret Benefits (part 6)
Sugar mommy!Larissa Weems x fem!reader
A/N: Here it is, after (quite) a long wait. Thank you for your patience! Oh, I actually shed a couple of tears writing this chapter, just warning you guys! I hope you’ll enjoy reading this <3
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You couldn’t believe your eyes. So much in fact that you had to rub them to make sure you were seeing straight. Larissa Weems was sitting at your kitchen table.
“Just a second,” you muttered.
You walked to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water, not even bothering to use a glass and choosing instead to drink straight from it. You couldn’t remember being that thirsty ever before and the water didn’t seem to help at all.
“I guess we need to talk.” You said as you placed the bottle back inside the fridge.
“Yes, we do. But I don’t think you’re in a fit state to have a serious conversation right now. How’s your head?”
“Hmpf-“ you groaned and looked down, noticing that you were still wearing your outfit from the previous night. You reeked. A nauseating mix of sweat and alcohol.
Larissa noticed the way you stared at your dress and pushed a small sympathetic smile.
“Would you like to take a shower?” She offered.
“I think so, but I’m not sure I’ll have the strength for it.”
“Let me help.” She wasn’t offering this time.
Letting Larissa see you naked would have been a highly arousing thought a few weeks before, but not anymore. Not after what you had done to her.
You closed your eyes as she walked with you to the bathroom, listening to the muffled sounds of her stocking-clad feet against the wooden floor.
“Let me-“ Larissa said when you struggled to reach for the zipper at the back of your dress.
She carefully unzipped it and you heard her breath hitch in her throat.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Larissa quickly answered.
A bitter iron taste filled her mouth as she bit down on her tongue at the sight of the bruises on your spine. She would make that man pay. She didn’t know how yet, but she would.
She helped you step out of the dress that was pooling at your feet before her hands moved to unclasp your bra until she suddenly stopped herself.
“Are you alright with me removing your underwear?” She asked.
You stayed quiet for a few seconds. She was asking for your consent. You had treated her like shit and still, she was showing you sympathy.
“Yes.”
Larissa gave a small nod and unclasped your bra before removing your panties, making a point of keeping her eyes off your body as she did so.
“There,” she said, gesturing towards the shower.
She turned the water on and made sure it was at a nice temperature before letting you in.
You sighed with relief as you stepped under the warm water jet, the gentle pressure massaging your back.
“Should we start with your hair?” Larissa offered, to which you answered with a nod.
Having her hands in your hair would feel less awkward than on your body to start with.
She rolled up her sleeves and poured some shampoo in her hands, waiting for you to turn around before applying it to your hair. She was gentle with her movements, her fingertips massaging your scalp and making sure to thoroughly wash your hair.
You were lost in your thoughts when Larissa suddenly started humming a song, a soft melody that immediately made a lump grow in your throat. You felt like a child. For a moment you were sent back to your childhood home, sitting in the tub as a little girl as your mother bathed you. It must have been a Sunday, you could still smell the cake that was baking in the oven.
You were brought back to reality by Larissa carefully spinning you around.
“I’ll wash your body now if that’s alright.” She waited until you gave another nod before starting to wash your shoulders. You kept your eyes closed as she carefully moved down your body and Larissa wished she could have done the same. She felt like she was intruding, only adding more weight to what had happened to you the previous night.
You were grateful for the water that was falling down your face for it hid the silent tears that you had been shedding for a couple of minutes.
Your body suddenly twitched as you tried to hold back a sob, making Larissa look up at your face. She stood up from the kneeling position she had taken to wash your legs and gently cupped your cheek.
“Sweetling, are you alright?” She asked.
You only gave a nod as an answer, your throat too tight to say anything.
“Look at me,” she said.
You took a deep breath and opened your eyes only to meet Larissa’s worried ones.
She stepped back as soon as she noticed that you were crying, the warmth of her hand leaving your cheek. Larissa immediately thought that she had hurt you somehow and you watched as her mouth fell open as she searched for a way to apologise.
“I’m sorry.” You whispered.
“What?” She frowned.
“I said-“ You took a deep shaky breath, feeling more tears threatening to spill. “I am so, so sorry Larissa.” You managed to say before bursting into tears and falling to your knees.
Larissa stayed still for a moment, watching your body jolt as you sobbed loudly.
“Oh, sweetling…” She knelt and gently placed her hand on your shoulder.
“N-no!” You hiccuped looking at Larissa. You hid your face in your hands and tried your best to calm your breathing down, Larissa’s thumb rubbing soothing circles on your arm.
“Why are you here?” You eventually managed to say after a few minutes. You didn’t give her any time to answer before you went on. “After what I did to you, why the fuck are you here? Being nice to me and taking care of me when you should be gloating about me getting what I deserve.”
“You did not deserve that!” Larissa said severely, cupping your cheek so you’d look at her. She looked into your eyes for a moment before looking down at her lap. “You don’t wish any ill will on those you love, no matter how badly they hurt you.” She said barely audibly.
Love.
There. She had said it.
Love.
The lump in your throat only grew bigger as you watched her blue eyes get glassy.
“I’m so sorry,” you said again. “If I had known-“You shook your head and burst into tears again, feeling both helpless and hopeless.
“I know.” Larissa nodded and took a deep breath. You don’t wish any ill will on those you love. She carefully wrapped her arms around your body and pulled you close, letting your wet skin and hair soak through the fabric of her dress.
You don’t know how long you stayed there, the both of you kneeling on the bathroom floor until you started shivering and Larissa decided to wrap you in a towel. She picked a pair of pyjamas from your wardrobe and helped you put them on before taking you back to the living room.
“I’ll make you a cup of tea, it might help.” Larissa said as you lay back down on the couch.
“That’s what he said.” You answered after a while, remembering some bits of your night.
“He?”
“The man,” you groaned softly. “The one who saved me… He reminded me of you.”
“Did he?” Larissa asked as she walked back to the couch only to find you hiding under a cushion.
She placed the cup on your coffee table and carefully lifted your head to let it rest on her lap while her fingers brushed through your hair.
“Get some more sleep, you need it.”
“Will you be there when I wake up?”
There was a second of silence before Larissa answered.
“You know I will.”
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Taglist: @raspburrythief @weemssapphic @readingtheentrails @larissaoftarthweems @principal-weems09 @kimiinou @winterfireblond @im-a-carnivorous-plant @geekyarmorel @h-doodles @azu-zu @barbarasstar @witchesmortuary @m1lflov3rrr @dumbasslesbi @crow-raven-crow @fridays-coven @lilfartbox1 @shawncantwrite @autumn-leaves-chasing-breeze @gwens0girl @aemilia19 @the-bagel24 @lvinhs @thefutureisus2020 @gela123 @a-queen-and-her-throne @rando-mango @wheresmyboo @my-silver-spring @hillary-nicks @ablsk @natasha29romanoff @tallvampirelady12 @canyoufeelmyheartsayinghi @i-love-nerdy-stuff @scarlettssub @jasperobsidian-blog @i-write-sometimes-maybe @brienne-the-brave @slytherinthepms @non-binary-frogking @wife-of-gwendolinechristie @anjo-iludidoefudido @imnotafruitt @opheliauniverse
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yanderenightmare · 8 months
Note
can we have more yan DEKU who terrorises his exgirlfriend? like, he sends her creepy letters and gifts, without mentioning it's him of course, scaring her straight back into his arms??
Deku - Midoriya Izuku
TW: yandere, hints of dubcon/noncon, size difference, stalker, mental abuse
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Green Paisley
You’d felt watched lately, and things were rarely where you remembered putting them. But thinking it was all in your head, you’d ignored it until you received the first gifts and saw the pictures. Eyes peeled while reading the letter with a shaky hand covering your mouth, you dropped everything on the steps to your apartment when quickly reaching for your phone.
I wasn’t going to write you any letters. I was happy just watching because I knew you were already spoken for. But I’ve noticed that the green-haired guy hasn’t come over lately, and I feel so sad knowing you’re home all alone…
You contact the police, but all they tell you is to invest in a new alarm system. After a little crying at the station, they show you enough sympathy to post a squad car in your neighborhood – but all in all, you’d say they didn’t seem very convinced.
That green-haired guy is a fucking moron. If you were mine, I would never let you go. I would take care of you, much better than he ever could. I would give you only the prettiest gifts and call you only the sweetest names. I’d treat you how someone like you deserves to be treated. Keep you safe and sound and happy to be mine…
You read the stalker’s letter again while browsing ways to upgrade your security – your thumb in your mouth, nail bending where you chewed on it – eyes panning over the photos that came in the box. Taken through the window – some innocent enough, candid pictures of you cooking in the kitchen or watching a movie on the couch. 
Others were not so innocent.
Your nail broke between your teeth as you looked at the revealing pics of you in your bedroom – wearing nothing but flimsy underwear. 
You looked back to the screen and continued scrolling through deals – but more than that, you were trying to distract yourself from what you really wanted to do…
Izuku had always been a source of comfort when it came to safety, and you know he’d come if you called, but since you broke up with him only a couple of months ago it seemed too selfish to ask. Besides, the reasons you broke things off were all because of his derogatory tendencies, and to beg him over because of something like this would only prove his point.
You couldn’t call him over. He’d see it as a win, and you’d decided you wouldn’t lose to his patronizing ways any longer. You needed to do this on your own – without his help.
You had to wait through the weekend until Monday to call a guy. A new box came both days, each one more terrifying than the last. But after installing a new alarm system you felt a little safer.
But the next box stripped that safety away.
I know I must be creeping you out. After all, you have no idea who I am, whereas I know you so intimately. But you shouldn’t feel scared. I would never hurt you. My gift to you today is proof of that.
P.S. Security systems aren’t enough to keep me away from you. 
Beneath the letters were more pictures of you – this time sleeping – inside the house. 
You fell apart – caving in, calling Izuku in tears, begging him to come over in a hurry. “Izu- please, please, please come home-”
He’s sitting on your couch only a curt fifteen minutes later, a tight arm around your midriff, holding you close for comfort while you sobbed against his chest – a furl deepened his brows while reading, holding your stalker’s letters in the other hand with green eyes narrowing for every sentence he finished.
I dream of making you mine. As I watch you sleep, I wonder what you dream of. You look so lonely lying there. Maybe if I keep you company, you’ll start dreaming of me too.
“How many of these have you received?” He questioned when done, looking around at the gift wrap on the floor, green-paisley-patterned, and the several boxes filled with crepe and untouched pieces of what looked like different arrangements of lingerie, candy, and sex toys.
“Four, I think…” You muffled against his tear-soaked shirt, clinging to him with your legs tucked onto his lap.
“Four? Why didn’t you call me sooner?” He echoed, looking down at you with heavy curls shadowing his eyes.
You looked up at him through the blur, lip sucked between your teeth before answering. “I- I went to the police-”
“The police? You went to the police instead of calling me?” He cut you off harshly, making you flinch.
“I-I-” You stuttered, crying, and he shook from his misplaced anger and took your face in his palms.
“Shh-sh- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you.” He apologized with a kiss on your forehead before pulling you close to his chest again. “It’s just… this is exactly what I warned you about. You should have called me sooner.”
“I’m sorry.” You whimper, calming down to the warm strokes his large hand smoothed across your back.
“Shh- it's okay… I’m here now… and I'm not gonna let any sicko touch you. I promise.” He soothed – his voice a calm and strong anchor for you to grip onto. “Come, I’ll help you pack a bag. You’ll sleep at my place tonight.”
“Okay…” You sniffle. “Thank you.”
He drove with only one hand on the steering wheel, the other on your lap, holding your hand – your bag by your feet – and you’re reminded of the first days you started dating. Sleepovers and overnight bags – his hand between your thighs on the drive.
His new place is bigger than the last – like something out of a magazine. Modern and simplistic – a little too clean, maybe, but very stylish. 
You knew he’d been climbing the ranks a couple of spots a week since you broke up with him, but you hadn’t known the new paychecks could afford something like this. It made you feel a little guilty thinking about it, then a little embarrassed, causing you to flush – standing there in guest slippers, bag in hand – your presence sticking out like a sore thumb.
“You hungry?” He asked, shaking you out of your meekness, where you looked up with a small nod and a slight hum.
He smiled, turning to the kitchen. You were so cute.
At dinner, it almost feels like old times. Izuku plays with your legs under the table even though you give him a look. He gets you to giggle after a while, surrendering to his hopeless flirting. You help him carry the dishes after you’ve finished – and even though he has a washer now, you slip right into that old routine and start filling the sink with warm water and soap. And then you stand there, the two of you – shoulder to elbow, and your chest flutters, wondering if he was always that tall.
You blushed and ducked your head, not wanting him to see you getting so flustered. You pretended to be throwing some scraps in the trash and that's when your eyes caught hold of it.
Green paisley.
You’re stunned for a moment. Still crouched down, your head hovering over the trash – face blank, body still.
“You weren’t meant to see that.” Came a voice.
Izuku stood next to you. Washcloth in hand, dripping soapsuds on the floor.
You’re breath shivers in your throat, and you drop to the ground with a gulp, looking up at him – now with building fear accenting your still shocked expression.
You blink a couple of times, trying to make sense of it but getting nowhere. “W-why?” Left you then, along with sudden tears that started slipping down your cheeks.
And it really was the only question you had. Why would he do this? Why would he torment you like that? Why would he-
“’Cause you left… And I needed a way to get you back.”
You cringed. Feeling sick – almost sick enough to turn around and throw up the entire dinner in the trashcan, all over that stupid green paisley print. But you didn’t. “You’re pathetic.” – is what you said instead.
You got up from the floor. Upset tears still rolled down your face, but you were mostly just pissed – kicking off your guest slippers, you sat down atop the shoe bench and started doing your laces.
“I’m leaving. Don’t call me. If I ever see you near my place, I’m calling the cops.” You uttered, grabbing your bag before yanking the door handle.
It didn’t budge – some strange new type of locking mechanism, which really made no sense to have on the inside.
“I’m going home, Izuku. Unlock the door.” You huffed, turning around to look at him sourly, only he’d approached you all too silently – making you gasp to see him standing right behind you.
“You’re not going anywhere…”
You’re taken to the bed, kicking and screaming – then pinned by hands thrice the size of your own beneath the big-boned body they belonged to. And now you’re really feeling scared.
Before, it had been such a distant threat – something you could pretend wasn’t there for most of the day and otherwise deal with by the soothing presence of a weapon in your house or a quick phone call to the police. But now – there was no comfort to be found anywhere.
“Shh, baby~ don’t fuss. It’s better this way.” He tried soothing, holding your fighting wrists tightly above your head in one fist. The other kept your lips shut, muffling all screams. Barring your thrashing legs beneath his own. “You need me- you couldn’t even last a single week without calling me.” He justified, hunched over you with his mouth only an inch above the knuckles draping your mouth. “But that’s alright, I don’t mind it. I always planned on taking care of you.” He cooed, rubbing his nose sweetly against yours despite you trying to shake away from it. 
You felt something rub against your thigh, and you knew all too well what it was. Fat tears streamed down your cheeks, facing the next events.
But Izuku shared none of your discomforts, rocking the bump against you with a moan slipping into his rant. “You like the new place I got, don’t you? You can stay in all day- I’d give you all you’d ever need or want- you’d be so comfortable you wouldn’t ever even want to leave-”
He sounded just like the letters.
And where it had ached you to know that he’d been the one to write them all… now it terrified you to understand how he’d meant every last word of it, too.
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bo0tleg · 2 months
Text
GEMS MY FRIEND SAID WATCHING TOP GUN (1986) FOR THE FIRST TIME:
"Look at those thighs! He's gotta be sitting on a dick, there ain't no way!" (about a random engineer in the opening sequence)
"This guy is too handsome to be a rando" (it was, indeed, a rando)
"Fifteen minutes in and I have no idea who the protagonist is." "Do you know what Tom Cruise looks like?" ".... No."
*Thought Cougar was gonna be the protagonist, was confused as hell when he left*
"The baldo is boring, but I think were gonna keep seeing him throughout the movie." "No, we're not." "We're not? Oh, thank god."
"Whoop, spotted the gay one. That wasn't even hard."
"That guy (Chipper) looks russian." "Nope." "No? What about that one (Slider)?" "It's the middle of the Cold War." "..... So?"
"A gay couple already? Wow."
"The blondie is trying to flirt while the other one is too concentrated on the rivalry."
"OH HELL NAH."
"Every old movie just feels the need for random straight romance– OH SHIT THAT'S HER? HE'S SO FUCKED." (In the scene where Charlie is 'officially' introduced)
"HOLD UP!" *Rewinds the scene* "What kind of flirting is that?" *Plays the scene again* "Did he just... Chomp? At him?"
"He has chemistry with her, but she doesn't want any chemistry with him. I mean, I can see she's attracted to him, but I think she just wants a quick lay." (Repeated this Every. Single. Time. Maverick and Charlie had a scene together.)
"Ah yes, the hetero scene that actually looks really gay." Later, remembering the scene: "How the fuck are you gonna play sports looking like a hot piece of ass without looking gay? You're not supposed to be hot! You're supposed to slap that fucking ball, not be like 'hahaha look at me, I'm so dainty and pretty.' THAT'S GAY!"
"It's cute, Goose treats him like a father would." "Don't you mean an older brother?" "No, he's too gentle for that. They'd be killing each other."
"See, Goose's wife treats him like an older sister would. By annoying him."
Charlie, on screen: "(...) Because I've fallen in love with you." "NO YOU FUCKING HAVEN'T, SHE'S JUST SAYING THAT FOR HIM TO STAY! SHE'S JUST SAYING WHAT HE WANTS TO HEAR TO KEEP HIM THERE!"
*Loud disgruntled noises I could hear from the kitchen over the sex scene*
"That's the one with the hard on!"
"I want more scenes of the blondie (Ice) and Maverick, I don't care about fucking planes."
"Did he die? Oh, no he's fine, the chute is there. Wait, he did die? NO!"
"Did he really need to be in his underwear for this conversation?"
"How cute, he's worried about Mavericks mental health. Shit."
*Screams*
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING YOU IDIOT? SHE LEFT YOU AFTER YOUR BEST FRIEND DIED!" "And put on a song that reminds him of his parents." "AND PUT ON A SONG THAT REMINDS YOU OF YOUR DEAD PARENTS!"
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tender-rosiey · 8 months
Note
Gojo is the type of guy to always bring you flowers. Always.
devotee — gojo satoru x f!reader
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a/n: anon you so right. let’s do this
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whenever satoru goes on a mission, he comes back with a ton of souvenirs and a bouquet of the prettiest flowers to bloom on this earth.
it is so cute and it always makes your day even if he, one time, unknowingly gifted you a flower that symbolized death with a huge grin.
you had asked him about why he gifted you that flower in particular and he said it's because it was your favorite color. so you could do nothing except shake your head helplessly, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
that's why it doesn't surprise you when he bursts into the first years' classroom with yet another big bouquet and even a bigger smile, "hi babe!"
you get up from your chair, "hey 'toru," you peck his lips, gently taking the bouquet from his hands, "what are these for?"
"nothing," he hums, "just wanted to appreciate you."
"again?" yuuji questions.
meanwhile, nobara blows her nose, screaming at the top of her lungs, "god, when will it be my turn?!" she quickly recovers with a smirk, throwing the tissue away, "just kidding! I don't need no man."
so yeah. satoru never fails to get you flowers, and in some of the most creative ways because satoru is anything but traditional.
if you don’t find a bouquet on your doorstep then you find a trail of flower petals that leads to your shared bedroom. it’s a pretty cute thing, the idea of your husband taking the time to put petals in your house to make your day just a bit easier is heart-warming.
but satoru won’t do something half-way and that’s why the petals on ground beside your bed spell your name, a heart, and a very bold ‘i love you’. it’s cute and it makes you smile, and it almost makes you forget the tiresome day you had.
but then you feel strong arms wrap around your shoulders and you’re pulled to a chest you’re very familiar with.
your husband is grinning as he peppers your face with kisses and you don’t have the time to think about your day.
another thing satoru loves to do with the flower petals is provide you with the most romantic and calming bath ever.
you remember that one time the higher-ups assigned you a multitude of missions on the same day and it exhausted you. you came back home, tired and almost a corpse.
upon seeing your beaten up figure, satoru took matters into his own hands.
in no time, he was able to decorate the bathtub with flower petals and candles. he got you all the snacks you like and offered himself as a—self-proclaimed—worldwide and top-tier masseur.
but before the pampering, he made sure to treat your wounds as gently as he could.
he threw a few jokes here and there, sang your praises about how strong and brave you are, and his lips left no part of your skin untouched, firm yet soft kisses that he hopes will make the pain even a tiny bit more bearable.
then you got into the bath and your body immediately relaxed. add to that, the surprisingly good massage you’re getting from your darling husband. and when you have had your fill, he helps you wash up, hands covering your eyes so the soap doesn’t get in.
when you stand up, and he gets the towel to cover you, he pauses.
you’re reminded of how intimidating satoru’s eyes are in the moment. without his blindfold, you get the full effect and truly feel his gaze. however, what’s difference between the look he gives his enemies and the look he gives you is far too vast.
to the enemy, satoru’s eyes are the ocean that will drown them to doom. to you, it’s the sky that doesn’t fail to shine upon seeing you.
it almost flusters you: the unadulterated love and pure devotion in his gaze. he takes you all in, admiring every inch of your body then grins, “the body of a goddess.”
and even in his absence, satoru doesn’t let you forget that you’re loved.
one time, when he was away for a couple of days for a mission, you were going on with your daily routine, all fine and dandy.
then you wanted to get that photo album satoru made for your anniversary to pass time until he comes back. satoru personally handpicked and glued every single photo.
he also decorated it with silly stickers and even sillier drawings, along with annotations that make you giggle when you can vividly imagine him saying them.
your feet almost immediately take you there, and you slide the drawer open.
but the photo album is surrounded by flower petals that—mind you—were not there before, and a sticky note is on it. your husband’s handwriting decorates the note and it reads ‘don’t miss me too much now. I will be back soon ;)’
you take the note in your hands and roll your eyes. nevertheless, you hold it close to your heart and wish for his safe return because, in the end, even the strongest will have a weakness.
and satoru doesn’t shy away from showing his love for you to everyone. so he doesn’t mind bursting into the meeting room and sitting beside you, presenting yet another bouquet of flowers, “for you, gorgeous.”
some are rolling their eyes, others are fondly chuckling, but satoru doesn’t care and frankly, neither can you.
who would reject the pampering from someone they love so dearly? a confession on a starry night once fell from his lips, “my heart is yours, you know. do with it what you want.”
it’s the love and care that is effortlessly shown in his actions and you always let him know that you appreciate it every single time.
you cup his face and press a big smooch on his cheek and a grin is automatically plastered on his pretty face.
because as beautiful as an action can be, it needs to be acknowledged and appreciated to reflect the same beauty to the giver.
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everythingne · 5 months
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christmas in monaco - cl16 [2]
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Trying to even bring up boys with Max ends up in a fight. You and Charles have a heart-to-heart. Daniel and Carlos help you devise a plan.
warnings/notes: comparing Max to Jos during the fight, mentions of shit parents, one (1) jab at Kelly, the chapter is serious and then Daniel shows up and that goes to shit, the last bit of set up before i go full scooby-do search party through the doors on you guys
verstappen!reader x charles leclerc, secret dating/brothers best friend
prev | next
-
You know you're in for it when you open the door to Max's apartment, groceries tucked lazily in one arm and coffees in the other and he's staring at you.
"What?" You ask as if you have no idea what he wants. You can see Penelope laying on the floor, coloring while some cartoon you've never heard of plays, and thus immediately switch to Dutch.
"[Why do you look like you're mad at me?]" You say, walking over to where he sits on the kitchen island, plopping down the groceries, and handing him the coffee you'd bought. Kelly's off doing god knows what today, leaving the two of you to watch Penelope before you return to your apartment next door.
"[Who is he?]" Max asks, taking the coffee with a nod of a thank you as he helps you organize the groceries. You knew posting that picture would cause this conversation, you and Charles had spoken about easing Max into the fact you were dating at all, and maybe it wasn't the best idea. Max had been fiercely protective over you since you were kids, you don't know why you assumed he'd stop now that you were adults.
"[I haven't told anyone yet. We're keeping it hush.] Okay?" You speak softly, setting down some things for dinner. Simple pasta, since Penelope had picked that over pizza--as long as you made her meatballs as well. You pluck the ingredients from the mess of other groceries, making sure you have everything as Max leans back in his seat.
"[Oh, so I'm just anyone now?]" Max lifts his hands in agitation, the same accusatory tone of your father's ringing in Max's voice. You swallow your vitriol, crossing your arms taught over Charles' hoodie you wear as you cross the room, then you tug up the red sleeves of the hoodie as you set down the ingredients for dinner by the stove.
"[Max, come on.]" You urge, hoping he'll drop it. But he's as stubborn as your father and as impatient as him too.
"[No, I feel like I have a right to be upset over this, how long have you two been seeing each other?]" His pointed glare at you as you whisk out a pan from under the stove makes your skin burn hot. You pause, mouth opening and closing as you slowly slide the pot onto the stove. If you say two years, does that link you to Charles too quickly? But if you lie, will Max see right through you? And you can't dodge the question, not here, not now.
"A couple months." You say. Yeah, twenty-four of them, then you scoff when Max makes a face, "[Stop acting like a child.]"
"[And how come Danny knows?]"
"[He found out on accident, and honestly I remember now why I didn't wanna tell you.]" You huff, filling the pot with water and clicking the burner on. You tie your hair up lazily, looking over at Max as your crack-open fridge next to the stove and then turn to grab the ingredients to make the sauce, "[you're treating me like a toddler.]"
"[You're my baby sister, I feel like I am kinda... obligated, to be concerned?]" Max's voice is sharp as you start to whip up the same sauce you've been making since you were fourteen. Max stands up and crosses the room to stand next to you, "[And I'm not treating you like a toddler. It's my job to protect you as your brother.]"
"[I'm a year younger than you! I'm not a baby, you just don't trust me, which is fucking stupid because I'm not the one dating a woman almost a decade older than me!]" You huff as you turn to Max, who tries to stammer some defense to his situation but you don't give him a chance to, "[and I don't know why you think I can't date drivers, by the way, you trust those guys with your life but not my heart?]"
"[Those guys are cheaters, I don't want you hurt.]" Max runs a hand through his hair, watching as you continue making the sauce. You can tell, just by his eyes, that he's thinking of the times you used to make him pasta after races growing up. You try to not think about the past.
"Who?" You ask, looking at the sauce and burning the red color into your retinas, mentally praying that he's not catching onto you.
"Lando, probably." Max huffs, stepping back, "Charles."
"Charles?" You hum, hating that you come to his defense immediately and not Lando's, "[The guy who just announced the girl he's been dating for two years?]"
"[He's done some interesting things.]" Max says in his defense and you can't help but laugh. You knew before Charles met you he had been a bit of a womanizer, or 'man-whore' as your friends so kindly said. But with you, it was like Charles was a brand new person.
"[You're so overdramatic.]" You deadpan, turning to add the noodles to the sauce and Max scoffs.
"[I'm trying to protect you so you don't end up with someone like Dad!]"
"[You haven't even met my boyfriend yet and you're assuming the worst! Why are you being such a dick, Max!?]" You slam the spoon down and then flinch, remembering Penelope is in the other room the second you do it. It takes a few seconds, and then her little head peeks around the doorway.
"Are you fighting?" She asks sweetly and you shake your head.
"No, Penny, it's fine." You try to smile at her, but Max seems to have taken another level of offense to everything.
"Y/n. [Go fuck off to your mystery boy, why don't you?]" Max takes the spoon off the counter. His cold shoulder isn't something new, but it's the way he says it, sounding like the harsh whispers your father would pass at you in public, makes you swallow hard. You walk across the room, grabbing your purse and car keys off the table before kneeling down in front of Penelope and kissing her hairline.
"I'll see you tomorrow, okay honey? Sorry if I scared you when I slammed the spoon down." You squeeze her in a tight hug, closing your eyes as you feel Max's eyes burn into the back of your head.
"Okay, Tante Y/n." She smiles, throwing her tiny arms around you, "And it's okay, I thought you dropped it."
You step back, kissing her hairline again, before getting up and leaving the apartment in a breeze, coffee forgotten. Your hands fumble with your phone, finding Charles' contact and sending him a quick message as you try and calm your anger.
--
You have a spare key, and as you jiggle your phone and keys in your hands to find it, the door swings open and two arms wrap around you. Laughing softly, you bury your face into the fabric of Charles' sweater and sigh heavily. He's warm, smelling of the usual cedar cologne you'd bought for him a while back. He also smells weakly like his hair products and if you try to search for it, your perfume lingers on his neck.
"Hi, amour." You murmur into the fabric and he bends at the knee enough to scoop you up to carry you the few inches inside before popping you back on your feet as he uses one hand to push the door shut.
"Hi." He says back, stepping back and squishing your cheeks in his hands and peppers soft kisses to your hairline, "Sorry about Max."
"It's fine. He's just being overprotective again." You kick off your shoes and follow Charles to the living room, flopping down on his couch and burying your head in your hands.
"You know if..." Charles sighs, hand coming through his hair and then pausing as he scratches at his neck, "If it's gonna be easier for you, I can try and talk to him?"
"No... I should tell him, he's my brother. I just don't think now is a good time?" You say as Charles pops down next to you on the couch and you shift so you can lay his head in your lap as you kick your feet onto the coffee table to rest, "he just seems so... agitated."
"Because you're dating?"
"He's afraid I'm gonna end up with someone like Dad. That's the problem. He doesn't trust anyone with me and gives them no chances. He thought Jolie was a drug dealer for like, six months!"
"She's a teacher?" Charles turns to you and you can't help but just laugh because that's Max.
"I know!" You huff.
Silence lulls for a while, and then Charles sits up and grabs you to unceremoniously pull you against his chest as he lays you both down on the couch. your face squishes against his hands as he peppers soft kisses to your hairline, the apples of your cheeks, and your nose, before pressing one long kiss to your lips. Pulling back just enough to murmur,
"I wanna spend Christmas with you, properly, this year." He says against your lips, your eyes fluttering before he presses his thumb to your pulse to draw you back enough to make eye contact, "I want to be able to post you, to talk about you with everyone because you're so fucking amazing, and I wanna meet your siblings and your mom and go on holidays with you guys and have our moms meet because Maman and Arthur both adore you and..."
Charles drawls off for a moment, hands coming up to cup your face as he thumbs along the warm, delicate skin of your cheeks, "I want, one day, to be able to get down on one knee and give you my whole heart."
Your pulse rams under his touch, cheeks dusted red, eyes wide but happily smiling as he leans in to lock in a long kiss, then he peppers some pecks on the corners of your mouth.
"The problem is, I can't do anything without Max knowing about us. Two years of us dating without telling him is already bad enough and he's been in my life since we were kids--even if we absolutely hated each other at first." Charles sighs, pressing a final quick kiss to your lips before letting you rest your head on his chest, "I feel terrible he doesn't know."
"But you know what he said." You sigh, closing your eyes against the warm fabric of his sweater--the grey one you'd bought for him a while back.
"I know, but we're either going to tell Max, or Max will find out." Charles sighs, "I prefer the first if I'm honest."
Even as you nod in agreement, you feel sick. The bubble of you and Charles had been safe for so long, that you weren't sure if you wanted to let Max in. But he was your brother, a year and fifteen days older, and you had told him everything up to this point. You'd be lying if you said you didn't also feel like shit for keeping Max out of the loop, but yet you feel like you have to.
"How'd Daniel find out?" Charles asks after a moment and he looks at you with those big eyes that make your heart thrum under your skin, love, and adoration seep from him and you don't understand at that moment how he could've ever been a womanizer when he looks at you like you hung the moon and stars just for him.
And then a small smirk peeks across his lips, "Because I know how Carlos did--"
"That one was your fault, Leclerc." You poke his chest, "Not locking the driver's room door was stupid."
"It was! But we're lucky it was Carlos."
"We're lucky we were only kissing."
"[We could've done more.]" He teases, making sure to really ramp up his accent as he speaks French so it's a bit harder for you to follow along, but you get the gist and whack his chest.
"Daniel saw me leaving, he was in the area doing media stuff." You explain, "I guess he saw me leaving."
"Oh, I thought it was because he moved in downstairs last week." Charles hums and you snap your eyes open and exclaim--
"What?!"
"Mhm. And Carlos lives in this building too." Charles looks over at you from where his eyes had been burning a hole in the ceiling, "Mon chéri, a lot of the drivers live in Monaco."
"I'm gonna lose it." You grumble, then pause, sitting up so you're hovering over Charles, one of his hands slides to support your waist immediately so you don't slide off.
"Carlos and Danny know." You say.
"Mhm."
"And... Carlos is your best friend--"
"--Arguably--"
"--and Danny is arguably Max's best friend, behind you."
"Uh-huh."
"...What if we ask them for help?"
"Absolutely not am I asking those two," Charles says and you huff.
"Come on! We clearly can't do it ourselves!" You exclaim, bouncing yourself on him with your arms, making him grunt as your body weight hits him.
"Daniel will tell us to do some sort of skit and Carlos will say for us to just say it!" Charles grips your waist and pulls you closer, "I don't need their shit advice."
"Maybe we need their guidance, and I promise it won't be bad! I promise! We can invite them over, have some wine and dinner, and voice our concerns--maybe they know something about Max we don't! Maybe they'll know he won't be mad or something."
"Y/n." He sighs, tilting his head back and closing his eyes.
"Charles!" You whine, "Look, if they give us shit advice, we kick them out and go back to the drawing board."
"Fine. But I'm holding you to this."
--
"I'm going to kick Danny out in about five seconds." You hiss to Charles and he laughs.
"Dude!" Danny shouts from where he sits on the floor, "I'm just saying, Max likes Charles. We all see it!"
"Believe me." Carlos hums into his wine, "There's a reason that... what is it... Lestappen shit is so popular. He's not gonna be mad its Charles. If it was like... me? Probably. Charles and Daniel are probably the only two drives you could date."
"And Yuki." Charles hums, "I don't think Yuki could do wrong."
"He might stab someone with the chef's knives he got for Secret Santa." Daniel points out and you snort.
"But you seriously have nothing to worry about." Carlos nods, "Honestly, you both are so stressed about it, I don't think either of you can think clearly."
You huff, "I feel like I can be stressed though. Max will either be fine with it or hate me forever."
"No, not forever, étoile." Charles hums, pressing a kiss to the side of your head as he draws you close.
"I don't think Max can physically hate you. I think he'd explode." Daniel hums, "Remember when you were sick and he thought you were ignoring him but you just literally couldn't hear out of one ear and he almost had a crisis?"
"You remember that?" You blink at Daniel. That had been only shortly after you'd met Daniel, the first race of that season. You were so delirious you couldn't remember most of the weekend, but you remember Christian and Daniel holding that over Max's head for weeks after.
"I do because he almost lost his mind for like four hours thinking you were mad at him and ignoring him. And then you rolled over and woke up from your nap." Daniel finishes the unceremonious story and Charles and Carlos burst into high-pitched laughter.
"He didn't think to like, shake her shoulder?" Carlos asks between laughter, finishing off his wine and grabbing a bottle from the little makeshift bowl cooler you put on the floor. He pours himself another glass and then tops everyone else off before putting the bottle back.
"He knew she was sick, and Y/n specifically told him not to touch her or go near her while she was sick." Daniel explains, thanking Carlos before taking a sip of the wine, "It was ridiculous. And then he made her promise that she wasn't actually mad."
"It was pretty funny." You grin and Carlos nods.
"So then Daniel is right, Max can't stand you being angry at him. So he can't be angry with you. If he is, he's a hypocrite, and fuck him, obviously." Carlos raises his glass in mock toast as sarcasm bleeds through his sentence halfway through, "But I can't say he won't be mad. He might be furious when he finds out, you have explained how protective Max can be, but I think he'll feel better knowing it's Charles."
"Charles is like his best friend," Daniel hums, "if you're dating someone he trusts I'm sure he'll feel better about it."
"Didn't we just make this point?" Carlos turns to Daniel who nods.
"Yeah, but it's a good one, so make it again."
"Max trusts Charles so it's fine," Carlos says and you laugh, waving your hands.
"Okay, so how the fuck do we do this?"
The plan is simple but effective. And it takes a few words to describe; be exactly the same, but a bit less secretive.
And the best way to start that is via social media. Once again.
-
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y/nverstappen made a new post! ↴
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liked by carlossainz, charlesleclerc, maxverstappen, and 412k others..
y/nverstappen: he called me his star <3
joliejolie: CYOOTIE PATOOTIE WHHAAAT
user1: caption??? GUYS?? CAPTION??
maxverstappen: i still don't know who
charlesleclerc: thanks for using all my film
charlesleclerc made a new post! ↴
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liked by ynverstappen, danielricciardo, landonorris, and 612k others...
charlesleclerc: never getting rid of this camera.
user2: get me someone who will do this for me.
danielricciardo: DUDE THERE ARE KIDS HERE.
⤷ landonorris: im covering oscar and logans eyes
⤷ logansargeant: yeah ok.
⤷ charlesleclerc: ill get worse
⤷ oscarpiastri: pls no
⤷ carlossainz: ill buy u wine if you do
⤷ danielricciardo: DONT ENCOURAGE THAT WE DONT NEED A FUCKING HOMICIDE ON OUR HANDS??? CARLOS???
⤷ ynverstappen: why is DANIEL on damage control??
user1: why is this the sweetest thing ever?
ynverstappen.jpg: make a jpg coward
⤷ charlesleclerc.jpg: who says i dont have one.
⤷ landonorris.jpg: its just priv.
⤷ danielricciardo: unpriv coward
⤷ charlesleclerc: ok ?
⤷ ynverstappen.jpg: YEAAA SECRET CHARLES PHOTOS!!
charlesleclerc.jpg made a new post! ↴
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charlesleclerc.jpg: in her own world.
arthurleclerc: vomiting. put clothes on.
y/nverstappen: TWO shirtless photos. BRO.
⤷ charlesleclerc: oops.
maxverstappen: so she takes after you with not wearing a shirt?
⤷ charlesleclerc: low blow
⤷ ynverstappen: accurate blow tbh
landonorris: where is ferrari's pr manager.
⤷ carlossainz: no one can help her.
ynverstappen.jpg made a new post! ↴
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y/nverstappen.jpg: some fuckin gems in my camera roll recently
charlesleclerc: omg finally a feature
danielricciardo: WHEN WAS THAT TAKEN I DO NOT RECALL
⤷ carlossainz: shit talk night w her and charles
⤷ danielricciardo: after the advice?
⤷ ynverstappen.jpg: yes and u still owe me a new shirt >:(
maxverstappen: can you ever post a nice photo of me on here?
⤷ y/nverstappen: nope <3!
charlesleclerc: the banana is so old why now
⤷ ynverstappen.jpg: comedy
-
And by god, it starts working.
You're walking with Charles, hands intertwined as you wiggle through the tiny stalls in the small market that's popped up for the holidays. You both find a small corner to hide, stealing a chaste kiss and then you pop a chocolate strawberry in his mouth.
"Oh, damn." He hums, "You are right, these are amazing."
"I told you!" You grin, peeking behind your shoulder to see if anyone is watching. You swear you make eye contact with Max, but the longer you look the less the guy looks like Max so you turn back around.
"You good?" Charles rests a hand on your waist and you nod, taking a strawberry into your mouth and sighing.
"Mhm. Just hate hiding." You lean into his touch, letting him wrap a firm arm around your waist as he peppers a few kisses to your hairline.
"Hey, think about it this way." Charles says, "Soon we won't have to."
As you step back and agree, Daniel pops up next to you with big wide eyes--and not the usual excited ones you're used to seeing.
"Hey, Max, on your six." He pokes your shoulder and you make a face, before Daniel waves his arms around in some sort of odd gesture and hisses out to you, "Clock direction!"
"Oh-!" You whip around as Charles' hand moves off your waist and walking towards you is none other than your brother. Offering a soft smile and wave.
"Hey! Didn't think you'd be here!" You call and he pokes your arm, crossing his arms over his chest as you, Charles, and Daniel kinda scramble to make it look like nothing was going on.
"Kelly wanted to grab some flowers for the kitchen," Max hums. The two of you hadn't really apologized for anything said during the argument. In your family, arguments were never really apologized for, you kinda of just moved on from everything. So even if there was still a bit of an awkward twinge, nothing was said.
"Oh! Somehow Charles and Daniel haven't had the strawberries so I brought them here to try them." You smile, and someone's hand comes to your jaw. You blink as Charles uses one of the napkins to poke your cheek.
"You got chocolate on your face, somehow." He murmurs and you laugh, grabbing his wrist and taking the napkin into your own hands.
"Thank you, Charlie." You blot where he says the chocolate is and you notice Max giving you a weird look. Looking over at your brother, you go to say something before Daniel pulls Max away to look at something, mouthing to you both,
"Be more discreet, maybe?"
And you can't help the giggles that leave your mouth as you lean into Charles and he wraps an arm around you, laughing out apologies.
Yeah, Max was gonna catch on.
-
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and now you and Charles had to get real good at lying and dodging watchful eyes. Monaco was a small little country, and now that it would be filled with more people who knew you, it was about to become a real challenge to see if you could make it through the holidays without anyone knowing or noticing.
Oh, especially when your Christmas Eve dinner was now going to have the Leclerc's stopping by as well.
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Peter Parker x Fem!Reader
Naked part 2
! READ PART 1. Link down at the very end of this post <3 !
Summary: After Peter sees you naked, he cant stop thinking about it, it’s the only thing he can think about.
Warnings: Peter is a charming loser Mentions of reader being curvy (Srry I’m giving my curvy girls love), kinda smutty but not? Kissing, groping, alcohol consumption. Based on New Girl <3
Peter lays on his bed, his head wondering to the night before.
Your naked body remains imprinted in his head like a picture, he can remember every detail about.
Your curves, your breasts that he would’ve respectfully grabbed if you let him—if Lauren wasn’t there watching in horror, and your cute ass.
If you told him to get on his knees, kiss your ankles and go down on you, he would do it in an instant—if Lauren wasn’t there.
Peter came to the conclusion at that very moment that he wanted—needed you in his arms at all times.
He didn’t want to just have sex, he wanted to be your boyfriend and treat you like how you should be treated.
Anytime you crossed his mind, his face would heat up and he’d start smiling and kicking his feet like a schoolgirl—it was pissing him off.
You guys always made it clear that you enjoyed being friends and taunting each other for fun.
You both argue too much and are constantly at each other’s throats, something romantic could never happen…right?
You hadn’t spoken to him since you…flashed him with Lauren being there. You were too embarrassed to leave your room after that, refusing to leave your room until Lauren had left and broke contact with Peter.
Deciding to swallow down your worry and embarrassment, you hesitantly knocked on Peter’s door,
“Come in!” Opening the door, you slapped your hand on your closed eyes,
“You don’t have to cover your eyes, y/n. I told you to come in” Peter stated, pretending to be annoyed at your presence even though he was actually waiting for you to come talk to him since the incident,
“Sorry! Just thought we’ve both seen enough nudity these past couple of days” Peter let out a chuckle and nodded, sitting at the edge of his bed with his arms crossed and his legs man spreading, looking up at you,
“I came in here to um—talk?” He raised an eyebrow and smirked,
“Talk?” You nodded and whistled, looking around his room awkwardly,
“Yep!” He sat there, waiting for you to say something, his head cockily tilting to the side,
“Your probably wondering why I was laying naked on the floor in your bedroom last night” You said.
He nodded and pursed his lips, hiding a smile,
“You cock blocked me and scared away a poor, innocent girl” He said, laughing. Rolling your eyes, you slapped his chest,
“I know! I feel so bad. She’ll forever know me as the scary naked girl who was hiding in her sneaky link’s bedroom” He shook his head and laughed again,
“I was trying to make it even between us, y’know? I saw your naked body, and I’ll show you my naked body!” You explained. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed,
“Yeah, I get why you did that. Why’d you have to do it when Lauren was coming over, though?” He teased, smirking up at you. You scoffed and shoved him by the forehead,
“I didn’t know she was coming over! You could’ve given the group chat a heads up!” He nodded and stared at the ground,
“So, did you like…see my, y’know…kitty cooter?” You asked awkwardly, poking at his shoulder with a grin.
He cringed and groaned at the word you used,
“I did! I saw everything. Also—kitty cooter? Just call it a vagina at that point” It was your turn to cringe and groan,
“Ew! The word ‘vagina’ sounds absolutely terrible coming out of your mouth, Parker. Never use that word around me again” He scoffed and threw his hands up in defence,
“Geez! Sorry for calling it the scientifically correct name. Never use ‘kitty cooter’ around me again, alright?”
-
“Since when did you have friends that weren’t me?” Peter asked Ned, as he glanced around the loft that was filled with at least thirteen people,
“I can have friends that aren’t just you. Surprise!” Ned said, scoffing,
“You could’ve asked y/n, Mj and I that you were going to throw a fucking party, dude” He shrugged and grabbed a beer from the fridge, handing it to Peter,
“Didn’t know I had to ask for permission, Daddy” Peter scrunched up his face and took a swig of the beer,
“Whatever” He leaned against the fridge and continued sipping it, starting to wonder where you and Mj were,
“What the hell?!” There you were.
You and Mj had shopping bags in your hands, struggling to hold them all as you scanned the loft full of people in annoyance,
“Who let humans in our loft!” Mj yelled over the music, catching your shoulder with her free hand when you began to lose balance in your steps,
“Let me help” Peter jogged over to you both and grabbed some of the bags,
“Did you invite these people, here? I thought we were your only friends, Parker” You said. He rolled his eyes and slung your purse over his shoulder with sass,
“I didn’t know about this party, either. Ned invited them without telling us” Mj groaned and dropped the bags on the floor,
“I hate it here. I’m going to my room and not coming out until these people leave” She walked away down the hall to her bedroom. You began following along behind her,
“I’m doing the same” Peter trailed behind you like a lost puppy, now holding every single bag you brought home. Getting into your room, you shut the door and pointed to your bed,
“Put the bags there, Bug-boy” He tossed the bags,
“Gently!” You shoved him out the way and double checked that nothing in them broke,
“You’re welcome, Princess” Peter scoffed, sitting down in your fluffy pink chair, leaning back and stretching his arms above his head.
You turned around to face him and almost gasped as his happy trail was showing from where his shirt lifted up. Your attention then focused to how his big muscles flexed through his white shirt.
Jesus Christ.
“So…big” You mumbled as you stared at him. He raised an eyebrow,
“What was that?” Your eyes widened,
“Nothing! I didn’t say anything! Shut up the fuck up” He snorted and ran a hand through his hair,
“Where’d you and Mj go today?” He asked, now manspreading.
Can he stop sitting like a bitch, for fuck sake?
“Uh—we went to Sephora, Walmart, the food court and Victoria Secret. When we were at Victoria Secret this old lady called me a whore for looking at this lingerie set that looked like two tiny triangles and a string of floss” You rolled your eyes at the memory.
He laughed and stood up, walking over to you,
“Aw, that sucks. Old people, am I right?” He wrapped his arms around you, giving you a hug. You froze before nuzzling into his arms, sighing contently with your eyes closed, sniffing his armpit,
“Did you just sniff my armpit?” He asked. You could hear a smile in his voice,
“Pffttt—no, I’m not weird” He smirked and hugged tighter, his bicep now completely covering your face.
Is he doing this on purpose?
“You are pretty weird” You hummed to what he said, not recalling paying attention to anything but him.
“Never let go” The words left your mouth before you could really stop them,
“What?”
“What?”
-
“Chug, chug, chug, chug!” Everyone chanted as you and Peter were seeing who could chug down a beer faster. You managed to finish first which had everybody cheering and a couple of people ruffling your hair,
“Lick me, Parker!” You yelled, shoving his shoulder. Peter groaned and tossed the can away,
“I wish” He whispered to himself, but smiling as he watched you awkwardly dance in victory to the Pitbull song playing,
“Let’s play a game!” Ned yelled, drunkenly slinging an arm around your shoulder.
-
“We close our eyes and hold up a number on our fingers, and then on the count of three we open our eyes. Whoever is holding up the same number has to kiss!”
You and Ned sat next to each other while Peter sat across from you, next to a girl named Emily while she sat across from Ned.
Everyone was slowly starting to form little groups, playing different games together since it was still early in the night. You and Peter somehow got roped into playing this stupid game together,
“What are we, twelve?! This game is so stupid” You complained. Peter nodded along to what you were saying,
“Exactly! Also, Ned, I’m not kissing you if we hold up the same number” Ned scoffed,
“Why are you acting like we’ve never made out, before, Peter?” You looked at the both of them confused,
“Wait—
“We never kissed! Anyways, I’m only gonna play if y/n plays” He said, shrugging and staring you down nonchalantly. You squinted your eyes at him and looked over at Emily and asked,
“You playing?” She shrugged and then nodded,
“Okay, cool. I’m playing, then” Peter smiled and leaned forward so that his face was only inches from your’s,
“Damn. I guess I’m playing as well” Your breath hitched at his low tone,
“Yep! I’m playing, too” You repeated, mentally slapping yourself at your weird behaviour,
“Right. I’m gonna play, yep” He said back, now both of you becoming awkward once you guys realized how close your faces were,
“Ahem!” Emily cleared her throat in annoyance, breaking you guys out of your odd, repetitive conversation,
“Everybody shut your eyes, please!” You all did so before Ned began to count,
“Alright, open your eyes” Emily and Ned both had two fingers held up,
“Sweet!” He whispered under his breath before leaning in to kiss Emily.
Peter couldn’t hide his discouraged self when he opened his eyes to see that you both were holding up different.
After two more rounds of just Ned and Emily holding up the same number every time, Peter was getting fed up,
“I’m getting tired of watching you guys kiss, y’know” He said, still staring at you. In fact, he hadn’t stopped staring at you this whole game, this whole night,
“Honestly, me too. At this point, I’ll kiss anyone!” You stated, staring at everybody who was in the room, except for Peter himself. He couldn’t help but frown at that, now feeling like his feelings were one-sided,
“Fine! One more round, okay?” Ned said, closing his eyes and starting to count down to three,
“Open your eyes!” Coincidentally, you and Peter were both holding up four fingers. His heart sped up as he began to blush, but his face fell when he heard your groan and throw your head back,
“No way! I’m not kissing him!” He began to become defensive now, his way of hiding his hurt feelings,
“Well, I don’t want to kiss you either, y/l/n! And by the way, you said you’d kiss anyone!” You rolled your eyes and stood up,
“Whatever! Goodnight” Peter stood up as well in a hurry,
“Goodnight, as well!” He began to trail behind you as you made your way to the hallways to your bedroom,
“Why are you following me?!” You yelled, turning around and flailing your arms,
“I don’t know!?” He yelled back as you guys made your way to your room, the door being slammed shut by Peter,
“Why are you in my room!?”
“I don’t know!?”
You both stood there, simply staring at each other with squinted eyes,
“I didn’t even want to join the party. I just wanted to watch a movie and go to bed ” you mumbled, sighing heavily and sitting on the floor at the foot of your bed, leaning your back against it.
Peter did the same, sitting next to you, his head falling back against the frame,
“Damn. I wanted to invite Lauren over” You whipped your head around to look at him with a scowl, to end up seeing that he was grinning and looking at you already.
He was teasing you.
You rolled your eyes and bumped his shoulder,
“Not funny, Peter” He doesn’t know why, but the way his name rolled off your tongue had his spidey-senses tingling, his ‘Peter-tingle’ is what May would call it.
An awkward silence fell between you both. There had been many awkward silences since the ‘incident’ a couple of days ago. You guys saw each other naked for god’s sake! That would make any roommates and friends feel awkward for a bit, but it was coming up on a week that you and Peter had that unresolved tension.
Almost like you were reading his mind, you started to speak,
“There’s this weird feeling between us” He glanced over at you and pursed his lips,
“I kinda miss the old us, y’know? The us before we saw each other naked and vulnerable” You let out a small giggle at the end of your sentence. He smiled and scratched his eyebrow while nodding,
“No—yeah, I get what you’re saying” You leaned your head on his shoulder, catching him by surprise,
“I just thought that if I showed you my naked-self back it’d make things less awkward and have everything go back to being—normal?” He let go of a long breath he didn’t know he was holding in, and leaned his cheek on top of your head,
“It did kind of take away my embarrassment…but—
He cut himself and bit his lip,
“But, what?” He puffed out his cheeks and and rubbed his chin.
Just say how you feel, Peter.
“It took away my embarrassment but—it also made me feel things?” You grew confused and raised your head from his shoulder to look at him,
“Feel things?” He looked down in shyness,
“Like—I couldn’t get you off my mind after I saw you in my room…naked” Your face became hot to the touch at his words,
“Not just your naked body, by the way! You’re so much more than your body! What I mean is that—
“Everybody is leaving!” Ned swung the door open, cutting Peter off,
“Oh! Finally” you quickly stood up and sprinted out the room, leaving Peter there to sulk on your bedroom floor,
“You gonna come and say goodbye?” Ned questioned, giving the Spider-boy a weird look,
“Just leave me alone to die”
“Um—okay. What an odd thing to say”
-
After saying goodbye and doing your nighttime routine in the bathroom, you made your way to your bedroom to find that Peter was no longer in there,
“What a weird night” You whispered to yourself, flopping down on your bed.
You started to think about what Peter had said before, about not being able to stop thinking about your naked body.
The way he said it, in such a nervous but charming way, had you clenching your legs together while replaying it in your head. Did you really have that much of an effect on his mind? Did he like you?
I mean, he did say it wasn’t just your body that he was thinking about. What would he have said if Ned didn’t open the door?
Meanwhile, Peter was in his room at his desk with his head in his hands, his head running wild with thoughts as well,
“You’re so stupid, Peter. You should’ve never said anything to her in the first place” His foot tapped on the ground anxiously, trying to decide if he should never talk to you again (which he knew was not possible and too dramatic), or if he should walk across the hall to your room and tell you everything he has been feeling.
-
Needing a distraction, you felt around for your phone on your bed, to your end table, and then groaned in annoyance when you remembered you forgot it in the bathroom,
“My god!” You lazily got out of bed and went to the bathroom, grabbed your phone, and started the seemingly endless walk back to your room,
“Holy shit!” You screamed in fear, placing a hand on your chest.
There stood Peter in the hallway,
“Sorry! It’s just me! It’s Peter!” You rolled your eyes and rubbed your forehead,
“Yeah, I know it’s you. Just—why are you standing like slenderman in the middle of the hallway?” He glared at you and ran a hand through his hair,
“I wanted to talk to you but, you look tired and annoyed so, I’ll just let you go to sleep, or whatever” You straightened your back and blinked, your heartbeat beginning to beat rapidly at his words,
“Yeah?”
“Yeah”
Peter could sense your heartbeat deep in his ears and a smell that he couldn’t really put a name on, but he liked it, and he knew it meant you were excited. It’s times like these where he’s happy that he is spider-Man. The hairs on his neck stood up as he stepped a little closer to you,
“Your heart is beating really fast” He started to feel cocky as he watched you look down to avoid looking into his face, and how the smell of your arousal was becoming more intense. He placed his hand on your chest,
“Peter” He raised an eyebrow and smirked,
“Yeah?” You cleared your throat and awkwardly looked to the side,
“Your hand is on my boob. That is not my heart” His eyes widened as his cocky demeanour disappeared. He went to snatch his hand away, but to both of your guy’s embarrassment, his hand remained stuck to you,
“Um—
He tried taking it off again,
“I’m starting to think this is not your spider-ness, or whatever. I think you just wanted an excuse to keep your hand on my boob forever” His eyes bulged out of his head and continued to try and take his hand off,
“I did not do it on purpose! I’m sticky! It’s apart of me!” You slapped a hand on your forehead, and grabbed his wrist to make him stop pulling,
“Stop! Rip my shirt off” His face flushed at your words,
“I’m—what?”
“You heard me. You’ve already seen me naked, so just rip it off and we can—talk?” He nervously chuckled at your words,
“Are you sure? Cause—
“Peter”
“Okay, sorry! I’ll just—
A loud tearing sound could be heard,
“Wow”
He stared at your chest, suddenly getting déjà vu, but this time you were wearing a pretty white bra that had a small bow in the front instead of being completely naked.
You crossed your arms over your chest,
“Are we gonna talk, or?” You trailed off, whispering and looking up into his eyes. He sucked in a deep breath and looked into your eyes as well,
“I, uh—we still haven’t kissed. We held up the same number, remember?” He said, walking so close to you that your back was almost against the wall.
Your ripped shirt that was still hanging from his hand finally detached, plopping onto the floor at your feet,
“Peter?” You whispered, biting your lip,
“Fuck” Peter grabbed your bare waist and pressed his lips onto your’s, a surprised gasp coming from you. You placed your arms on his shoulders and practically melted into him.
He felt relief when you didn’t pull away, instead tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging, grinding into him desperately. Remembering that you were still a human who has to breathe, you pulled away and took a deep, shaky breath, Peter as well. You glanced into each other’s eyes, chest moving rapidly,
“I like you” He whispered, gulping. You grinned and pull him back in by his face to your lips. His hands were now experimenting, rubbing your lower back, the straps of your bra, and then your breasts. He let out a high pitch pathetic moan when he squeezed them,
“I cant believe I’m squeezing your boobs right now” you snorted against his lips at his loser-like way of saying it.
You let out a gasp when he unexpectedly picked you up bridal style like you weighed nothing, his super-human strength causing your mind to lead to very sinful thoughts,
“I think it’s so hot your spider-man—and so, strong” You blurted out, staring up at his brown eyes as he kicked your bedroom door open. He smirked at that and gently laid you down on your bed. He stood at the foot of the bed and shrugged, flexing his biceps (on purpose),
“Thanks. I can lift cars and buildings, too. S’like, no big deal or whatever” He looked down at his feet and scratched the back of his neck,
“Peter?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you gonna like—come here and have sex with me— or?”
“Right! Shit, yeah! Um—
He took his shirt off, hurriedly pulled down his pants and let out an embarrassing girl-ish scream when he tripped over his pants and fell on the ground with a loud thud,
“Oh my god! Peter, are okay?!” His head popped up,
“Yep! Totally good! Don’t even worry about!”
He dove on the bed and made himself comfortable between your legs, making you giggle at his enthusiasm. You guys went back to making out, his kisses beginning to trail to your neck, shoulder, breasts, and stomach. He slowly slid your pyjama shorts down your legs and tossed them behind him. He placed a hand on your boob and the other in your underwear,
“Oh! Peter!” He raised an eyebrow and smirked,
“Wow, barely touched you and your already screaming my name” You screamed his name again and pointed to the window,
“No, Peter! You threw my new expensive shorts out the window!”
-
END
-
Author: I cut my bangs too short so now I’m going to class everyday with these short fuck-ass bangs
Here’s part 1 down below
590 notes · View notes
bookyeom · 3 months
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pairing: s.coups x reader word count: 4.8k warnings: a couple of swears i think, kissing, people being bad friends and treating reader badly :(, a tiny bit of poor self-esteem on reader's end but not much, seungcheol gets a lil mad at one point but it's nothing crazy
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Author's Note: this fic is part of the Thirteen Valentines event, but can be read as a standalone! also, i would suggest listening to the song listed below to get a feel for the vibe of the fic, but it's not necessary.
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pov by ariana grande
i wanna love me the way that you love me for all of my pretty, and all of my ugly too i'd love to see me from your point of view cause nobody ever loved me like you do
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You feel like you’ve been subject to an intervention.
You’d come over to pick up a sweater you’d left at Jeonghan’s, and now you’re sitting on his couch while both him and Soonyoung stare at you, arms crossed. You have the distinct feeling that you’re being judged. 
“You’re here early,” Jeonghan finally says, and you immediately don’t like the tone of his voice. 
“Yeah,” you say, slowly. “Junseok couldn’t make it last minute, so I just came straight here.” You don’t miss the look that passes between Jeonghan and Soonyoung, and you inwardly groan in preparation when you realize what’s about to come.
”Wow, he canceled?” Soonyoung says, sarcastic as ever.
“We’re so surprised,” Jeonghan follows, and you roll your eyes. 
“Things happen,” you try, but your friends don’t even flinch. 
“Yeah, they always seem to happen with him in particular, especially when you guys have plans. Poor guy.” 
“Come on. Stop.”
Jeonghan smacks you on the arm, and you yelp. “He’s such a dick, Y/N. Break up with him.”
“We’re not dating! I’ve told you a million times that we’re just friends.”
“Does the fact that you’re just friends justify how he treats you?” Soonyoung asks, and that hits you, hard. Your shoulders slump, and Soonyoung sits next to you on the couch.
“He’s just forgetful,” you murmur, but even as you say the words, you don’t really believe them yourself. 
“Hoshi is the most scatterbrained person I’ve ever met,” Jeonghan points out, “and even he remembers plans.”
The man in question appears offended for a brief moment, before quickly brightening up at the end of Jeonghan’s statement. “Yeah,” he nods solemnly in agreement. “I sometimes forget my sentences half way through. If I can remember making plans with my friends, so can he.”
You remain silent. You know they’re right, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.
“You know who else never cancels on you, at least not without a solid explanation?”
You know where this is going, but you’re definitely going to pretend that you don’t. “Joshua? Seokmin? Love those guys. Truly the most loyal companions and —“
“Seungcheol not only sticks to plans, he also makes them with you first,” Jeonghan continues on, interrupting you, not even batting an eye as he ignores your pouting. 
“And he’d probably rather poke his own eye out than cancel on you,” Hoshi supplies.
“He’s my friend,” you protest weakly. “Do you mean you guys wouldn’t gauge an eye out on my behalf?”
“No,” the two men opposite you answer at the same time, and you sink back into your seat with a huff. 
“DK would,” you mumble.
“Yeah, but — bless his stupid ass — he’d do that for any of us,” Hoshi points out. “Seungcheol, on the other hand, thought it was funny to lock me out of the bathroom when I was hungover and needed to throw up last Saturday morning.” 
“Okay, but Cheol told me that you spilled a bottle of vodka all over his new laptop while you were drunk and tried to cover it up,” you counter. Hoshi opens his mouth to retort, but Jeonghan cuts him off. 
“Last week, he canceled lunch with Mingyu and I just because he didn’t want to get out of bed.”
“He had an exam the night before!” you protest, quickly jumping to Seungcheol’s defense in his absence. “For a really hard class, too! He was telling me about it when he came over to study.” The two men stare back at you pointedly, and you feel your cheeks flush. “What?”
“Nothing,” Jeonghan simply smiles, and it unsettles you. “Just that I’ve known Seungcheol for three years and I’ve never, not even once, seen him willingly study with someone else. He always talks about needing to focus alone.”
You feel a blush creeping up your neck, and try valiantly to hide it with your turtleneck sweater. “Maybe you guys are just annoying.”
“Or maybe he’s in love with you,” Soonyoung pipes up, a wide grin on his face, and you let out a whine. 
“Stop,” you plead as the two of them high-five. 
“You and Seungcheol are so annoying. If we’re talking about good ‘friends’,” Jeonghan puts quotation marks in the air around the word as he says it, “he should be at the top of your list. That man cares about you so much it’s kind of sickening.”
”Are you saying you don't care about me?”
You’re trying to change the subject, and Jeonghan knows it. He glares at you. “We care about you enough to try and knock some sense into you, don’t we?”
“I’m leaving,” you announce, pushing yourself off the sofa, sweater in hand. 
“Hey,” Jeonghan calls out as you pass through the threshold. “Can you take this, too?” He appears a second later as you’re tying your shoes, holding out a pair of socks. You raise an eyebrow in question. “They’re Cheol’s,” he explains. “I can almost guarantee you’re going to see him before I do.”
“How do you know that, Jeonghan?” 
“When are you guys hanging out next?”
You squint at your friend for a moment, before you begrudgingly take the socks from his hand. “Tomorrow morning,” you murmur. You pointedly ignore Jeonghan’s laughter as you all but slam the door behind you. 
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“How was yesterday?”
“Hm?” You hum through a mouthful of food, glancing back up at Seungcheol. 
You’re sitting across from him at your favourite cafe. It had been silent since your food arrived and you’d both shut up to shovel food into your mouths, so you’re surprised when he speaks up. You also have no idea what he’s referring to.
“You hung out with Junseok last night, right?” Seungcheol asks, and you wince.
“Oh,” you manage. “No, we didn’t end up getting together.”
Seungcheol doesn’t hesitate, clicking his tongue as he brings his coffee mug up to his lips. “Asshole.”
“Cheol.”
“What? He’s an asshole.” He sets his coffee down again, elbows on the table as he runs a hand through his hair and asks, “Did he cancel, or did you?”
You look back down at your food. “He did.”
Seungcheol simply nods, crossing his arms as he leans against the back of the booth. You’re reminded again of just how big his arms have gotten lately, and you try to shake the thoughts before your gaze lingers just a bit too long. “Of course he did.”
“He’s trying,” you mumble miserably, knowing it sounds lame, even to yourself. “He’s getting better at following through.”
The man in front of you raises his eyebrows. “Is he?”
“You’re being a dick.”
“I’m just telling the truth.” Seungcheol shrugs. “Why do you even like him?”
“I don’t like him like that anymore,” you mutter. “I haven't for a while. It was a dumb crush, Cheol, you know that. We’re friends now.”
Seungcheol scoffs. “Okay, well, I’m your friend too. And as your friend, I’m telling you – he’s an asshole.”
This time, you don’t offer a rebuttal. You fall silent, pushing the eggs around on your plate. You can feel Seungcheol watching you, and you can practically hear his defenses lowering the longer you stay quiet. Usually, you can keep up with his banter and sass, but you know he can tell that you’re actually upset now. You’re tired of arguing. Deep down, you know he’s right, and you don’t have it in you to meet his gaze.
“Somebody who cares about you wouldn’t do stuff like that, friend or otherwise,” he finally speaks again, his voice softer now. “I know it sucks… but sometimes, it really is that simple.”
“Yeah,” is all you say. 
“Hey.”
You make yourself look at him again, offering him as much of a smile as you can. 
He smiles back, soft. “People care about you, okay?” 
You nod. The longer he looks at you, the more you start to feel that electric current, that low buzzing that seems to take over your entire body whenever Seungcheol is close. Jeonghan’s words linger in the back of your mind as he finally looks away, breaking the tension between the two of you.
That man cares about you so much it’s kind of sickening.
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You hate how downright… silly you feel.
”He promised he’d make it this time,” you sniffle, and Seokmin squeezes you tighter into his side. “He even booked the tickets. Why would you book the tickets and then cancel on the day of?”
“Once a liar, always a liar,” Jeonghan calls out from his kitchen. 
“Once an asshole, always an asshole,” Seungcheol agrees. He’s leaning against the doorframe that separates the kitchen from the living room, and you don’t know why it hurts a little that he hasn’t tried to comfort you at all since you walked in. His comment only serves to upset you more, and you glare at him.
“Are you happy?”
Seungcheol blinks in surprise, turning back to you from where he was watching Jeonghan in the kitchen. “What?”
”Are you happy that you’re right? Do you feel good about it, Cheol?” You can feel Seokmin pat your shoulder comfortingly, but it doesn’t help — you’re annoyed now.
”What are you even talking about, Y/N?”
“You’re right — he’s an asshole. You’re right. You love being right, don’t you?”
The silence is almost palpable. Jeonghan has stopped moving in the kitchen, Seokmin is frozen next to you, and you can cut the tension in the room with a knife. Seokmin slowly moves to stand up, heading into the kitchen with Jeonghan, leaving the two of you alone.
“It’s not about being right,” Seungcheol finally says, and you avoid his gaze when he joins you on the couch. “All I care about is the fact that he should treat you better.”
Seungcheol’s tone leaves no room for argument, and you can feel your shoulders sag. You know that he’s right — and you hate it. 
“I know,” you admit, and all of your misplaced anger drains from you in seconds. “I know he should,” you repeat, feeling your remaining defenses start to crumble. “So why won’t he?” 
You say the last words so quietly that you’re surprised anyone hears you, but you know that at least Seungcheol has when his shoulders fall. You hear him inhale a breath, but you speak again before he gets a chance to say anything.
“I just don’t understand why I’m not worth the effort.” You can hear your voice crack, followed by silence, and then — you break. The tears are falling before you can stop them. You feel the couch shift as Seungcheol turns. Whatever hesitation he’d had about comforting you before seems to ease up as his hand finds your knee and gives it a gentle squeeze. You’re grateful, but you still can’t look at him.
“What about the people who do treat you well?” His tone is softer now, but you can tell he’s still upset by the tone of his voice. You don’t have a chance to answer before he speaks again. “I could tell you a million times how great I think you are, I could make a thousand plans to hang out, I could go on and on about how much I like being around you… but nothing will change until you figure out a way to believe me. I—“ He clears his throat. “We— care about you so much. All of us. We should be the people that matter.”
“But what did I do wrong? With him?”
Seungcheol’s hand on your thigh is gone in a flash. He stands up, and you miss his warmth immediately. “I don’t know what else to say,” he says, voice low. He’s angry, you can tell, but he would never admit to it. 
You want to apologize, desperate to bring him back to you, but you’re frozen. 
“I’m going to head out.” He doesn’t say anything more, doesn’t look back at you. Jeonghan and Seokmin appear from the kitchen, but no one says anything except for a ‘drive safe’, and then he’s gone.
It’s silent for a moment, and then you say, “I fucked up.”
To your surprise, Jeonghan doesn’t scold or tease you. He doesn’t even agree. Seokmin disappears back into the kitchen to tend to the food Jeonghan was cooking, but Jeonghan himself joins you on the couch with a sigh.
“Listen,” Jeonghan starts. “You and I are similar — we always tend to focus on the people that don’t care. We want to be loved, so when someone doesn’t put in as much effort as us, we feel like we have to figure out why. We want to know what we did wrong, even though we didn’t do anything wrong at all. We forget that there are tons of people that love us a lot already. I love you, for example.” Jeonghan pinches your thigh affectionately, before he juts his thumb in the direction of your front door. ”Or what about that guy? The one who just left my apartment, pissed, because you let someone make you question your worth? He cares about you without thinking twice. For him, it’s effortless. You’re worth it, and you’ve never had to prove that to us. You just are, and always have been.”
You’re officially crying now. You know you’ve really upset Seungcheol, and you know your friends are all right. You know it, you know they love you and you love them, but why don’t you believe that you deserve it?
“I should go home,” you say softly, but your hand squeezes Jeonghan’s in acknowledgement, in a quiet thanks.
“I won’t say anything else except for this,” Jeonghan says gently. “I know you think Cheol is worth it, too. Being with someone doesn’t always have to feel like effort.” He shrugs. “Sometimes, it’s effortless.”
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You spend the next week thinking, and thinking, and thinking, until the ball drops and you finally just do it. You block Junseok on every social media, you delete his number, and you’re proud of yourself for it. You don’t message your friends back very much throughout the week. Seungcheol in particular has been radio silent, but you suppose you deserve that. You don’t reach out first, instead taking the time to process everything that’s happened, to process everything you’re feeling — and not just about Junseok. 
You know that Seungcheol has always meant a little bit more to you than anyone else. Now, you’re wondering why you’ve never done anything about it — and you’re also wondering just how long you’ve been blind to the fact that Seungcheol most likely, almost definitely, likes you back. 
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Y/N [5:36pm]: early Galentines dinner at my place this Sunday at 7?
You receive an almost immediate thumbs up from Seokmin and Soonyoung.
Hannie [5:43pm]: yaaaaas
Wonu [5:44pm]: might be a bit late but I’ll be there 
Kwanie [5:52pm]: NOOOOO I’m busy :(
Kwanie [5:52pm]: galentines?? WITHOUT ME????? UNBELIEVABLE
You smile at that, texting Seungkwan a private apology in a separate chat. Your heart jumps in your chest when you receive another notification, and you’re filled with relief so quick and intense that it feels like you’ve been doused in water.
Cheollie [5:58pm]: I’ll be there. Cheollie [5:58pm]: need help setting up?
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You hug Seungcheol the second he walks through your door. He reciprocates, and you feel relieved and anxious and warm and fuzzy all at once.
Now, a half hour has passed, and neither of you have mentioned what happened the week before. He tells you about his week at work, and you hate the small talk but you know it’s all just the road back into the familiar ease of your friendship — so you participate. It’s only when you’ve finished getting ready for dinner, Valentine’s Day decorations and lights all strung up and ready to go, that he speaks up again. You’re preparing tea for the two of you when he catches you entirely off guard. 
“Will Junseok be joining us tonight?”
You can feel your shoulders tense up. You can tell that it pains him to say it, but you also know he’s the brave one for even bringing it up. You take a deep breath. 
“He’s not coming tonight, or any other night, actually.”
Seungcheol seems surprised as he hands you a mug from the cupboard before grabbing one for himself. “Oh. I’m sorry.”
You shrug. “It’s okay. I’m fine, really.”
Seungcheol’s eyes follow you as you move across the kitchen to the kettle, pausing before speaking again. “I can tell.”
You turn back to him as you click the kettle on to boil, an eyebrow raised in his direction. “Was that sarcastic?”
The man smiles as he shakes his head. “No, I mean it. You seem happier than...” He trails off, but you both know what he’s thinking: than when I saw you last.
“I am,” you reply honestly, and it’s silent again for a moment before you both start to speak at the same time.
“Listen, I–”
“Hey, Cheol–”
You can feel warmth start to spread through you when he begins to laugh at your clumsiness — it had only been a week, but you’d missed that. You’d missed him. 
“You first,” you offer, and he nods.
“I’m sorry that I was frustrated when I left the other day,” he says, and you tilt your head in surprise at his apology. He shrugs before continuing, “I shouldn’t have left like that… but in my defense, I didn’t know you’d disappear for a week.” He’s joking, and you smile a bit at that.
“I’m the one who should be sorry, Cheol.” He joins you at the counter and you begin to pour hot water into both mugs, eyes focused on the task at hand, but you can feel him next to you. It suddenly all feels so intimate, the way you’re making tea for him the way he likes it without him saying a word, the way he watches you move around in your kitchen as if he does it every day. 
You turn to hand him his tea and when your eyes meet his, you feel a flush begin to creep up your neck to find him already looking back.
“I mean it,” you say softly, and he hums in response, eyebrows raising as he takes a sip and waits for you to continue. “I really am sorry for not being around the last couple of weeks.” You hop up onto the counter, legs dangling off of it as you wait for your tea to cool. 
Seungcheol sets his mug down on the counter and sends you a soft smile, one shoulder lifting in a shrug. “It’s okay. I get it.”
You nod, looking down, and pick at a thread on your jeans. “Thanks,” you say quietly, but he knows you’re not finished speaking. His eyes don’t leave your face, and his fingers still grip onto the handle of his mug as he waits, ever patient, for you to gather your thoughts. “I’m still sorry, though. I was just so overwhelmed and didn’t want to deal with it, so I let everything build up to a breaking point.”
“I promise it’s okay,” Seungcheol repeats. He’s being genuine — you can hear it in his voice. Your eyes meet his again, and you almost wish they hadn’t because you have more to say, and you might lose all of the courage left in you if he keeps looking at you like that. 
“Just… Just let me explain,” you request quietly, and he nods again. “I… I guess I just needed a bit of time to myself. To figure out what’s important to me.” You pause, choosing your next words carefully. “To figure out who is important to me.” 
You can feel your cheeks flush as you finish. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you this whole time, and you think your heart is in your throat now as he continues to gaze at you.
“Yeah?” 
Does he understand what you’re implying? Your eyes move to land on the dark strand of hair that’s fallen into his eyes. You suddenly feel a desperate need to reach out, to brush his hair back, to touch it. To touch him. Would he let you? Does he want that, too?
“Yeah,” you finally repeat, your quiet voice matching his as you meet his gaze again.
He moves then, slowly, almost as if he’s worried he’ll scare you off, shifting closer and reaching across your legs to set his mug in the sink. Your breath catches in your throat as he straightens back up in front of you, his now-empty hand falling to the counter beside your thigh. He’s standing right in front of you, caging you in between his arms, and you can’t look away.
“And what’s the verdict?” Comes his question, dark eyes searching yours.
“That I should start to focus more on the people that show me they care. Because those are the ones that I care about the most, too.” 
The tension in the air is palpable. 
Then his fingers gently, tentatively, brush against yours where they rest on the counter. He doesn’t do anything more, testing the waters, and it takes everything in you not to shiver. His gaze falls to your mouth, and you hold your breath — then he looks down and away from you, his eyes squeezing shut, and the moment is lost.
“Cheol?” You say carefully, desperate to get him to look at you again. He hums in response, but he doesn’t look up. You don’t know what he’s thinking, but you feel like if you don’t say what you want to say right now, you never will. “Thank you.”
That seems to get his attention as he lifts his head to meet your gaze once more. You can tell he’s surprised as he murmurs, “For what?”
“For being here.” You’re not sure if that’s what you meant to say, or how you meant to say it, because it sounds far too simple for how you feel about the man in front of you. And then he smiles.
“Of course,” comes his reply. You watch as his smile grows and he says, “I was told there would be free beer.”
You blink at him for a moment, processing — and then you let out a single, surprised laugh. You feel some sense of relief wash over you as the tension between you breaks a little, as everything around you seems to soften. You feel a little bit like you’re glowing from the inside out, warm and fuzzy like the pink heart-shaped lights strung up around your apartment, and you wonder if he feels it, too. You’re starting to think that maybe he does.
“Cheol,” you say, and you offhandedly wonder why you’re saying his name so much. He grows serious again, but the lighter air between the pair of you gives you just enough confidence to continue. “I don’t just mean today,” you elaborate, your voice soft. You feel vulnerable now, even more than before, your eyes falling to your lap. “You’re always there when I need you, and even sometimes when I think that I don’t.” Seungcheol laughs quietly at that. “It means a lot to me.”
He doesn’t hesitate. “You mean a lot to me.” 
When you look up, you find him gazing back, and you abruptly realize that he’s moved even closer. The fingers that were playing with yours move up to your waist, and your entire body reacts to the warmth of his palm. 
“Is this okay?” He murmurs, a quiet question that threatens to overwhelm you. He’s making sure that you want this just as much as he does. It sends a shiver down your spine.
“More than okay,” you affirm. His mouth lifts at the sides, dimples just peeking through. Again, you think that there’s something more that you wanted to say, but your breath is caught in your throat and he’s just so… beautiful.
“I…” He trails off, and you watch as his eyebrows furrow. You’re desperate to be even closer as you wait, closing the final space between you to press your forehead to his. “It was so hard not talking to you this week,” is what finally he says, and though he hasn’t said much, you think you understand. 
I missed you. That’s what he’s trying to say.
You desperately want to communicate to him that you won’t leave him like that again, that you don’t plan on going anywhere, that the last seven days away from him sucked just as much for you. In a bold move, you ease your legs apart, leaving room for him to stand between them. Your calf moves to hook behind his knee, tapping against him in a silent request for him to come even closer. You hope he understands — that you want him close like this, that you missed him more than you think he realizes.
He seems to understand you just fine.
He easily fills the space you made for him, his chest nearly flush against yours now. He gives your waist a gentle squeeze, and you inhale a shaky breath as he brushes his nose against yours. Your hands have found his shoulders, grasping onto the material of his sweater, and his eyes fall shut.
The same, pesky strand of hair is falling into his eyes again, and you’re pretty certain that given your current position, you’re allowed to do something about it now. So you do, lifting a hand to gently brush it back and over his forehead, gaze following the movement. His eyes open at the touch, and a whisper of your name brings you back to him. 
The moment you lock eyes again, he’s leaning forward to capture your mouth with his. 
Your hand falls from his forehead to his bicep as you gasp into the kiss, as you try and process. When you do, when you realize what’s finally happening, you can’t get enough. You’re pulling him in so close that you feel a bit feral, your fingers pressing into his arms, his back, one hand finding its way to the hair at the nape of his neck. You can tell he’s not faring much better than you as he chases your lips relentlessly, as he pulls you into him so close that you can’t feel anything but him. 
When you finally need to breathe, your hands find his face. You pull back, eyes taking him in as he lets out a breath, like he can’t believe what’s just happened, either. He looks at you, and you look back, and you have no idea what to say or do — until suddenly, you’re beaming. You can’t help it as you pull him back in for one long, slow kiss, grin wide against his mouth, your hand moving again to the back of his neck. He’s smiling, too — your favourite smile of his, the one that’s completely, entirely genuine — and when he pulls away only to bury his face in your neck this time, you can feel the smile against your skin.
“Fuck, I’m in love with you.”
It’s quiet, whispered against your skin, but you hear it. Your fingers pause their trail up and down his back. You move his face back up to look at him, your eyes searching his, desperate to know if you heard him right. “Cheol?”
He kisses you again, once, twice, so slow and soft that it makes your head spin. “I love you,” he says, breathless against your lips. He waits for you as you let it sink in, his hands firm on your waist, eyes boring into yours so you know that he means it. 
You believe him.
“I love you too,” you whisper, foreheads moving to rest against each other once more. “I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”
He shakes his head. “Don’t be. It’s okay.”
He pulls you into his chest, and you can feel just how fast his heart is beating. You’re certain that yours isn’t doing much better.
“I do have a question though,” he says after a few moments pass, and you hum, urging him to go on. “You said you were going to spend more time with the people that care about you, right?” 
You move back to look at him and tilt your head in question. “Yes?”
“I’m guessing that includes Jeonghan and Hoshi and the boys,” Seungcheol muses, and you nod, your eyebrows raising. Then he pouts, and you sputter out a laugh.
“What’s that face for? They’re your friends, too!”
Seungcheol huffs. “Yes, but if you meant that you’re going to kiss them like that, too, then –”
You clap a hand over his mouth. “Ew!”
The man in front of you has a shit-eating grin on his face now, and you remove your hand. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”
“Trust me,” you shudder, “you’re the only one I’ve ever thought about kissing.”
“You’ve thought about it, huh?”
You look up at him, smacking his chest. “Shut up!”
“Don’t worry, I’ve thought about it too.” When he moves to kiss you again, you stop him with a hand on his chest. “Speaking of our friends,” you tease, “they’re literally going to be here any second. You have permission to kiss me as much as you want to later, okay?”
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A/N: here it is! The first of our Thirteen Valentines. I have to be honest, I got a little carried away with this one... I'll put out a full disclaimer that not all of the fics will be this long! Seungcheol has a solid grip on me and I couldn't do anything about it, you guys.
Please please please reblog if you can to spread the word, and check out the Thirteen Valentines masterlist! If you want to be added to the taglist, send me a message :)
Taglist: @waldau @wqnwoos @tae-bebe @gyuminusone @savventeen @eoieopda
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livingemkayde · 10 months
Text
ride
neighbor!joel miller/dbf!joel miller x f!reader
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Warnings: Rated 18+. Minors please dni. Smut. fingering f!receiving, grinding/dry humping, pet name (angel, baby), swearing. Not proof read.
a/n: bit the bullet and wrote something about joel. This was meant to be a one shot (a really fucking long one-shot holy shit) but if you guys want more parts just comment or lmk. Taking a small teeny tiny break from my beloved din (he will forever and always be the standard tho lol).
wc: 4k
this is the first installment of my small dbf!joel mini series!
find the next parts in my masterlist
“Hello?” you shout as you walk through the threshold of your home — your childhood home. You haven’t been back in Texas for a couple years. Your studies and research have admittedly kept you too busy and sometimes your dad would fly out to see you in California. 
You really haven’t been back since two Christmases ago. And by really you mean you haven’t seen Joel since two Christmases ago. 
You’d been desperate for graduation some weeks ago, and now that you’re back, you remember how slow Austin is. And how small. How everyone knows each other and each other’s business. But sometimes that’s kinda nice. 
Word spread quickly about your recent graduation and your dad kept bothering you about having a party — but it all seemed silly to you. 
He isn’t the party planning type, so naturally, it fell through the cracks. He did say something about having Joel and Sarah over instead. That got your attention. You haven’t seen your neighbor from across the street in a couple years, his daughter even longer. You wonder how grown up she is—you miss them both.
You know your dad and Joel have gotten closer since you’ve been gone. When you were younger, they were always friends, but more so in a ‘we’re neighbors and we both have daughters so let’s hang out a couple times a week’ type of way. But after your sparse visits and facetime calls, you can tell they’ve gotten close. Really close. The kind of friend that has keys to your front door and can ‘use my grill whenever you want ol’man’ said your dad. The kind of friend that spends every holiday together, and treats each other's kids as their own. 
“Hello?” you try again as you lug a suitcase and duffle bag into the foyer. You had shipped all your belongings back to Austin from California a couple days ago and hopped on a flight with no return ticket. It felt nice to be home — you were excited for your first summer with no prospects of school looming around the fast approaching September. 
“Nice welcome,” you mumble under your breath as you shut the front door. You figure your dad might be out. It's a Saturday — and it’s fucking hot. You huff and shrug out of our cardigan, placing it on the banister of the stairs before rolling up your sleeves. 
You haul your suitcase up the stairs and abandon it on the floor of your bedroom — partially unzipped from digging a pair of shorts and a tank top out before making your way downstairs. 
You shuffle into the kitchen to get a drink— a note on the fridge catches your eye. 
Someone’s number. And your name underneath it. 
You recognize the area code as someone who lives in Austin, but you aren’t sure whose it is — let alone why your name is written under it. Like someone called asking for you and your dad was too forgetful to tell you.
You brush it off and move towards the whiteboard which hangs on the fridge next to the note. 
It’s your dad’s handwriting, you recognize it. It’s a list of stuff your dad had planned for the day. 
Grocery 
Home Depot
Joel’s
You smile at his poorly articulated plans and at Joel’s name at the bottom of the list. You’re happy they can keep each other company. Sarah is at that age where all she wants to do is hang out with friends at the mall, and you’ve been away for four years. You note your dad is probably with Joel. You didn’t get a chance to text him when you landed so you don’t blame him for not being around when you got back. 
You grab a mug from a cabinet and fill it with ice, opening the fridge to grab some lemonade. When you begin pouring, you can hear the door open from the foyer directly ahead of you. 
A loud chorus of laughter rings through your ears when the door opens and you look up from the drink you’re pouring to the door. 
Your dad enters first, his figure hunched over, laughing, while his hand jiggles the keys out of the front door. 
You can hear another laugh join from behind him. It’s not as loud or obnoxious (not that your dad is obnoxious) but settles for a small huff and a couple ha ha’s. You know who it is before you can see him. You can see the peak of curly brown hair follow in as your dad’s eyes meet yours. 
“Baby!” he shouts, drops his hand from the door — the keys still hanging from the lock — and moves towards you in the kitchen. You abandon your drink and move to hug him. He gives you a big hug, lifting you off your feet and sets you back down while giving you a kiss on the forehead. 
“Hey dad,” you say while straightening out your all too small tank-top you wouldn't have worn if you had known there was going to be company. Especially this kind of company. 
“You shoulda told me you landed! I was waiting to pick you up from the airport,” he notes while putting his hand on his hip. You can see Joel out of the corner of your eye, picking the keys out of the lock and shrugging off his light jacket — showing his gray t-shirt which lies under. 
You flush. 
“No, no dad —” you chuckle, breathless. “It’s okay. Taxi was faster. You always get lost around the airport.” 
“Damn signs get me all turned around,” he mutters under his breath while making his way past you into the kitchen. 
“You ‘member Joel right?” your dad jokingly asks from the kitchen. He’s already got his head buried in the fridge looking for something to eat. 
“Yes. Ha ha dad —” you turn your head from the kitchen and look up at Joel, “— hey,” your arms come to wrap around your torso, suddenly a little insecure about your state of dress. 
“Hey, kid,” he replies coolly. Settling into the middle of the foyer. His head bends to the side slightly but he keeps his eyes trained on you. He looks at you through hooded eyes. 
“So biology —” he moves past you to follow your dad into the kitchen, you trail after him, “too smart for your ol’man now.” 
“Hardly,” you say as you all settle in the kitchen. You dad — who still has his head in the fridge — snorts. He mumbles something about plants, doctors, and I ain’t that old from behind the door. 
Your dad tosses Joel a can of beer and he catches it. He pulls one out for himself and shuts the fridge. They both swig the cold beer — relief hits them after being in the heat. 
“Congratulations are in order,” Joel says and takes another sip — his eyes don’t leave yours as he tilts his head back, you watch his Adam's apple bob up and down. He leans back against the counter, facing you, arms crossed.
“Yeah…thanks,” you reply sheepishly as you sit at the island chairs giving him a small smile — the counter separating you. 
“No neighborhood party?” Joel says while turning his head to look at your dad. 
“I — I tried my fuckin’ best. You know how hard it is to get everyone’s number?” your dad laughs while taking another sip of his beer, running a hand over his forehead — rubbing his eyes. 
“Just knock on people’s doors man — it ain’t that hard,” Joel quips back teasingly while chuckling. Your dad shoves him playfully. You smile at them. They remind you of teenage boys. Or frat boys. You laugh at both images. 
“You want a party, kiddo?” your dad looks at you sheepishly, like he really means it. 
Maybe it would be nice to see the people in your neighborhood, but the thought of a party dedicated all to you seemed overkill. 
“No…s'alright,” you reply, sipping on some lemonade. Your eyes quickly shift to cheat a glance at Joel, but he’s already looking at you. You avert your eyes quickly.
“Maybe barbecue. Not a party. Barbecue,” your dad throws out his arms and says the words like he’s testing the idea to you and Joel. You shrug with a smile in response and Joel tips his beer to your dad and takes another swig. 
The phone rings in the other room. You honestly still can’t believe your dad still has a landline. He rushes to get it, leaving you and Joel alone in the kitchen. 
“Remind me where you were at again?” he says, pushing off the back counter and leaning forward on the island to meet your eye. 
“USC,” you reply before bringing your lips to the rim of the glass again. 
“That’s right,” he says and stands back up straight. “Smart girl,” he adds — lowly — and you sort of freeze. 
His words — even though seemingly not sexual or suggestive — send a heat down to the place between your legs. You push your thighs together and pray he doesn’t notice. 
“You liked it?” He adds. 
“Loved it. The bio program there was really great,” you say, playing with your cup’s handle.
“How’ve you been?” you ask, curious. You rest your chin in the palm of your hand. 
“M’fine. Same as always,” he says, meeting your eye. 
“Sarah?” you ask, tilting your head. 
“Good. Into boys now or somethin’,” he notes, shaking his head. 
“‘S normal,” you chuckle. He gives you a certain look that makes your head spin. It’s suddenly too hot in this house despite the constant flow of your air conditioning. 
“I guess,” he mumbles. 
Your dad emerges from the living room, shaking his head. 
“Fuckin’ kid again. Always callin’ my phone like it’s a goddamn hotline or somethin’,” he mumbles as he enters. He looks up to you, “Some kid is always callin’ the house askin’ for you,” he nods in your direction. 
“Who?” you ask, curious, and now — maybe a bit on edge because of Joel.
“Dunno. Some kid named Liam. Said he went to highschool with you,” he says, sitting across from you, Joel somewhat behind him. 
“Always askin’ if you’re home yet — you know this guy kiddo?” he asks, his head quips to look at you. 
Suddenly it feels like all eyes are on you, because they are. Joel’s are trained carefully on you, waiting for your response. You glance up at him and quickly look back down to meet your dad’s gaze. 
You did know him —  Liam. An old fling from high school. A ‘friends with benefits’ sort of thing, but you had ended it pretty quickly after school finished. You made it your mission to go to college with no strings attached to anyone. He tried to keep it in touch through college but you eventually attempted to ghost him — you thought it was successful until now. 
Your eyes widen. 
“Uh—yeah. I guess,” you flush and look down to your fingers around the glass of lemonade. You pick at the skin there. “Boyfriend from high school, dad.” 
“Huh. Don't ring a bell,” he says, and you chuckle silently. 
You don’t miss Joel’s unmoving face. Though he looks unbothered. You have to admit — you’re a bit disappointed by that. 
“His number’s on the fridge. Wrote it down the first time he called and forgot to ring you ‘bout it,” he gestured to the note. 
“Geez. Thanks dad,” you move to pick the note off the fridge and put it in your pocket. No use in leaving it up there for the whole world to see. 
Joel’s eyes follow you, and trail to the note being shoved into your pocket. 
“I should go. Gotta pick up somethin’ from the office,” he says as he breaks his gaze to look at his watch.
“Yeah, yeah sure. She’ll walk you out. I’m beat,” your dad gestures in your direction while making his way towards the couch in the living room. Joel waves ‘bye’ and your dad follows suit —  holding his hand up with his back still turned towards you. He disappears out of sight. You can hear the TV click on, and some FBI drama series begins to echo loudly through the house. 
You make your way to the door, Joel follows suit. When you reach the foyer, you bend down to pick his jacket up from the bench. You hold it out to him, he takes it — and when your hands brush against each other — you gasp. A loud gasp. Loud enough for Joel to definitely hear it, but not loud enough for your dad to hear over the sounds of gunshots and some yelling.
Your eyes snap up to look at his, to find them already staring back at you. You drop his gaze quickly and let go of his jacket. 
“I’m actually gonna head out too. I’ll walk you to your truck,” you say, trying to be polite. You shake your head at the embarrassment you feel because he definitely just heard you gasp like a teenager over your hands brushing. 
You step out, certain your dad is already drifting to sleep on the couch. 
The sunset hits your face and you squint under its rays. Joel follows you out the door, shutting it behind him. 
You see his truck sitting a house down from yours and begin to walk with Joel settling next to you. 
“You goin’ to see him?” he asks, not meeting your eye. 
“Who?” you reply —  teasing. 
“Don’t play dumb. That boy botherin’ you?” he asks, while approaching his truck. You both settle into some slow steps until you’re leaning against the side of his black flatbed and he’s standing in front of you. 
“What’s it to you?” you ask, teasing again. 
“Nothin’—” he replies, shaking his head and looking past the truck, to his house across the street. “Didn’t know you had a boyfriend.” 
“Wasn’t really my boyfriend. Just easier to explain that to my dad than what it really was,” you reply, trying to meet his eye. Trying to get an indication of — anything. 
A beat. 
He doesn’t meet your eye. 
Another beat. 
“‘N what was it really?” he asks, shoving his hands into his front pockets. 
“Thought it was nothin’ to you,” you bite back with a smirk.
“Yeah, well maybe it’s somethin’ —” he catches your gaze for a moment before looking down at the concrete. You cross your arms. “— if he’s botherin’ you.” 
“He’s not bothering me. Just an old…friend,” you say with a smirk playing on your lips. 
“Friend? Got any other ‘friends’ I gotta worry about?” He quips back. It's playful. 
“Didn’t know you worried about me,” you say with a small smile.
“Only when your ‘friend’ calls the house twice a week sayin’ you don’t pick up his calls.” 
“Yeah well I've had other things on my mind.” You look at him. Really look at him. It forces his gaze to meet yours. 
He drops it quickly. 
Some silence. 
Fuck, what is happening? 
“Y’wanna ride?” His head gestures to the truck behind you. You find yourself nodding, and moving towards the passenger seat door. Joel opens it for you, you flush and almost lose balance while hoisting yourself in. You mumble a small thank you and tell him you were actually planning to just go to the library near your house to pick up a couple books.
He starts the engine and begins to pull out onto the street.
“Books?” He follows up. 
“Gonna continue some research while I look for a job,” you say, and pick at your fingers in your lap. 
“Could always babysit Sarah,” he teases.
“16’s a little old for a babysitter? Don’t you think?” you quip.
You settle into a soft silence after your laughter dies down. He turns down some streets and settles on the main road. The radio is off. You wonder if he drives in silence when he’s alone. You know Sarah liked it when the radio was blasting in the car. 
“So, there’s no other…” he starts, a lazy hand placed over the top of the steering wheel. “no one else?” he finishes, awkwardly. 
His hand comes down the center console to rest on the gear stick.
“You’re asking me if I'm dating?” you chuckle a bit, peaking over at him. He keeps his eyes on the road. “God, you’re worse than my dad.” 
“Wouldn’t say that, angel.” 
Fuck. 
The nickname rolls right off his tongue and hits you between your legs. You shuffle in your seat. You don’t know how much longer you can do this before you soak through your shorts. 
You continue to sneak glances at him. 
“No. I’m not,” you answer his question from before. 
“Hm,” is all he says, rounding the corner. 
“Hm?” you reply — teasing him. “You got something to say?” 
 “Just surprised is all,” he says, more serious. 
“Yeah?” You reply, mostly because you want to hear him talk more but partially because you have no idea what to say.
“Mhm —” he throws a glance in your direction “—unless you’re gonna finally give that poor boy a chance.” 
“Probably not. He’s…boring,” you answer like you’re thinking about it.
“Boring? That it?” He says. 
“Yeah. Or maybe I’m just looking for something else,” you try to meet his gaze but he focuses on the road. 
“Sure —” he replies “— just didn’t think a pretty girl like you would be single after college.”
Pretty. Pretty. 
Joel Miller just called you pretty and didn’t even bat an eye. You can feel the wet spot in your panties begin to grow and you shuffle again, rearranging in the passenger. 
Is this real? 
Or is it years of built up sexual frustrations about your dad’s best friend building up and threatening to spill over at the sound of him calling you pretty? 
It seemed innocent enough. 
But you can’t help but feel something between you. 
Something different. 
Like maybe he doesn’t think of you as an innocent little girl anymore. 
You don’t know what’s gotten into you. Maybe it’s the heat. Or maybe it's the enormous wet spot growing in your panties from a few words thrown carelessly your way. But you want him. Really want him. And you know he would never make the first move. So you do it for him. 
You reach out — tentatively — to the center console to grab his hand on the gear shift. He looks at you, and you meet his eye. There’s a sort of darkness behind his pupils — like his irises have gone a shade darker and you didn’t notice. You lead his hand over to your lap, bringing it down so his fingertips rest on the inside of your thigh. 
You can hear both of your uncontrolled breathing. Yours sounds more like a gasp at his touch, while he lets out a sharp breath when his hand ventures into your space. 
After a couple seconds, he squeezes your thigh in his palm and you sigh. The truck drives over an especially rough patch of road and it jostles your body. His fingers threaten to make their way higher. You squirm in anticipation. 
“Quit moving,” is all he says with a deep voice, his eyes still on the road. 
You stop squirming, despite your wanting anticipation and a nervous cloud that blankets your mind. 
But his words only spur you on further — only makes you want more. 
His pinky finger toys with the hem of your shorts, you part your legs for him, and he scoffs. 
“What I say?” He grabs your thigh roughly. Splits them apart, and slips his hand under your shorts, finding the soft fabric of your panties. He slowly runs his finger over your clit, teasing downward. 
“Fuck,” he mumbles. You squeak quietly in response. 
“You wet?” Your eyes shut, “Huh angel?” 
You nod, but that makes him let out a small tsk sound. 
“Words,” he demands. 
“Y-yes. Yes,” you let out. 
He ventures lower, and you suddenly worry about his reaction to how wet you are, but he lets out a growl from deep in his throat and pulls your panties to the side. 
“Fuck. Used to be such a good girl.” his thumb nudges your clit as his middle finger touches your aching entrance, gathering your slick. “Now look at you. Fuckin' soaked. Clenching around nothin',"
“F-fuck—Joel—p-please.”  
He only scoffs in response. 
How can he be so focused on the road while he’s got his hand down your pants? 
His finger still toys at your clit, making you moan and whimper. You feel close just from that. You might come, embarrassingly fast — with no penetration — and you don’t want this to end so you put a light hand on his wrist and he stops his movements. 
“P-pull over. Please pull over.” 
He does, he pulls over to some side street. It's late now, the sun just barely peaks over the horizon and you’re both met in a dark dusky light. 
He puts the car in park with the same hand that was just toying with you, that still has your wetness all over it — you flush. 
You expect him to continue, to put his hand back down your pants. But he looks down at his fingers. Inspecting his hand under the soft light. 
“You tryin’ to get us killed?” 
“No,” you reply softly. 
“Your dad would have my neck,” he says, bringing his fingers to his lips. Oh my god. 
“I know,” you whisper, entranced by his movements, “But I'm all grown up.” 
He lets out a puff. 
He sits there for a long time. He doesn’t meet your eye. You’re on the edge of your seat waiting for something to be said. Anything. Your orgasm is long forgotten under all the uncertainty. 
“Take your shorts off," he says, waving a hand in your direction. 
“What?” You ask, surprised. 
"Shorts," he leans over to grab your face, "Now."
He lets your face go, and you slip your shorts off, face flushing in embarrassment. He watches you the whole time, seeing you bare for him makes him groan a bit — you like the sound of it.
He grabs you then, lifting you off your seat, so you bring one leg over his body, straddling him. The steering wheel digs into your back. When you’re fully seated, you can feel his length, hard and wanting, press into your core. It makes your head tilt back as you grind down on instinct. 
He grabs your hips to stop your movement. 
“Please Joel—I-please f—” he slides a finger through your folds and cups your core with his hand. 
You moan loudly, and whimper at the feeling of his breath so close to your face. 
“Quiet.” You grind down in his hand, he lets you. “‘Less you want someone on the street hearin’ you.” 
“Joel…” you let out in a pathetic whine. 
He sinks a finger into you. You gasp at the sudden intrusion. He meets your eye. His brows furrow almost like he feels sorry for you.
When he feels how wet you are, he sinks in a second. He lets out a god as you grind down against his thrusts, the palm of his hand hitting your clit just right —like you’re close already. 
“Fuck baby.” He groans when he feels your walls tighten around his thick fingers. “Already?” 
“Joel—I—fuck-p-please—ah—” 
His fingers sink deeper. You throw your head back, your back hitting the steering wheel. 
You both know you’re close, just a bit more and you’re gonna come, embarrassingly quick.
"That's it—c'mon angel. Know you want it," he pants, you whimper in response.
But his phone rings. And he looks down to the center console where it’s buzzing, and sees your dad’s name pop up. 
His hand stops, and you whine in protest, but he throws you a knowing look, your eyes meeting him then down to the phone. 
You go rigid. 
You look back at him, panic in your eyes, as everything kinda floods back. Like the fact that your dad’s best friend almost made you come in his truck. 
He picks up the phone, and holds it to his ear. He gives you a ‘be quiet’ motion and you sink back into his lap. 
“What’s up?” He answers. 
You seen my daughter? I woke up and she was gone. 
Your eyes widen. 
“Uh—yeah. I drove her to the library. Figure she’s still there,” he says, coolly, like he wasn’t seconds from making you come all over his hand. In his lap. 
Oh. 
Some silence. You can tell Joel is waiting with bated breath. 
Okay. Thanks. 
“Yeah no problem,” Joel responds. 
Alright. See you later.
“Yup,” he says, and hangs up quickly. 
He looks back at you, and down to your cunt, bare for him, in his truck.
Fuck. 
_
part ii
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sserpente · 4 months
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A "Happy" New Year indeed 🥂🎇🍾🎆
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Synopsis: Tony gifted you all a trip to the Bahamas to spend New Year's on the beach. Even Loki was invited but when no one else wants to spend time with him, you gather the courage to act on your secret crush on him until you end up sneaking away together...
A/N: Et voilà, just like that, I turned a couple older requests from @mandywholock1980, @frzntrx and anon (I’m so sorry for the delay) into a little treat for New Year’s Eve. “Slide well” into the new year tonight as we say in German! I’ll see you guys next year with lots of book news and of course, more Imagines! Thank you all for your love, for your comments, your kind words when you send me requests, for your likes and your reblogs and this year in particular, your patience! I appreciate you all so much and that’s almost 24k of you at this point! So crazy! To an amazing 2024!
Words: 2556 Warnings: smut, SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2
Where is that damn bathing suit? You’d packed it, right? You knew you’d packed it. It was on top of your suitcase so you wouldn’t forget. With a sigh, you rummaged through the clothes you’d brought, creating an utter mess in the process.
Holidays with the Avengers. Hallelujah. No wonder you were so worked up. It certainly wasn’t every day you unwrapped a neatly folded plane ticket to the freaking Bahamas on Christmas morning, a “little” treat from Tony Stark who had flipped the ice-cold temperatures in New York City the bird and booked you all a trip to the other end of the world.
Seeing both Steve Rogers and Thor topless was a delectable sight—not to mention how absolutely gorgeous Natasha looked in her black bikini. You felt self-conscious about yourself, to say the least, but the hilarious part was that it wasn’t because of a bunch of shredded superheroes; it was because of a very mischievous prince who had the very essence of the multiverse coursing through his veins.
The kiss had been… incidental. Rules were rules and Tony had been very clear about all the damn mistletoes he’d hidden across the tower and it was Thor who had not let either of you leave until you fulfilled the silly tradition. Ironically, it had been Loki himself who’d caused all that attention around the mistletoe all those years ago. He only had to blame himself but heavens… he sure knew how to kiss.
And just like that… there you had it. After spending Christmas, or Yule, as he liked to call it, Loki had—unbeknownst to him—managed to make you fall for him. He, who just so happened to have become the most powerful being in the entire universe; or multiverse, in this case.
There it is. The black bathing suit you pulled from the pile of clothes, at last, was your favourite, complimenting your body shape in just the right places. You’d already caught yourself wondering on the plane what Loki would think when he saw you in it. After all, he was a god. He’d met a number of goddesses and princesses, not to mention a stunning female version of himself. How could you, a mere mortal woman, possibly impress him? Hell, you didn’t even have superpowers. Nothing that would grab his attention. Perhaps you should have brought the mistletoe and steal another kiss. Perhaps you could get him drunk so he wouldn’t remember your heartfelt confession if he didn’t reciprocate it. Or maybe you shouldn’t say anything at all and keep the cheeky God of Mischief an exciting fantasy in your head. You’d totally not named the green and gold vibrator you had bought as a Christmas present for yourself after him… you would never do that…
Despite the fact that the Avengers were slowly—really slowly—warming up to the idea of him being around, Loki was alone when you joined the others at the beach. He’d conjured a green blanket with a gold rim to sit on in the blazing sun, his dark green trunks leaving nothing to fantasy. Although he wasn’t nearly as shredded as Thor was, godly strength aside, you were certain he could haul you into the air and one-handedly fling you across the ocean if he wanted to. Or maybe do push-ups while you were sitting on him…
“Hey.” You sat down next to him without waiting for an invitation, your gaze flicking over to the gang playing volleyball in the sand. “I don’t understand…”
“They hit the ball with their bare hands and fling it across the net. If it lands on the ground on the opposite end of the field, their team scores,” Loki said matter-of-factly.
You chuckled. “Not the game. Why are you not playing?”
“Please. This is hardly the most enjoyable place for a Frost Giant,” he replied. His voice was just as icy as the tale he was telling.
“I see… I’m sure no one would mind if you returned to the hotel until it’s dark. It’s gonna be a long time until midnight still.”
Loki scoffed. “Of course, they wouldn’t mind. In fact, they are likely hoping for it.”
“Well, maybe you can tell Thor—“
“Thor is making things worse. My brother has always had quite the talent for ignoring me when he’s with his friends. I am not going anywhere.” You could practically hear the unspoken words: I’ll stay out of spite and sulk.
“Okay then. But maybe you should wear sunscreen. The sun’s pretty aggressive in these parts of Earth.”
“I am a god. I don’t get sunburned.” Indignity swung in his smooth voice as he lifted his chin in defiance.
“Are you sure? At least sit in the shade then. If you’re uncomfortable, I’m sure we can find you some ice.”
“No”, Loki spat, earning him a frown.
“Hey, what’s with the attitude, Trickster?”
“This is ridiculous. I have a multiverse to look out for and Stark had nothing better to do than reduce me to… to…”
“…someone he’d trust enough to bring on holiday with him?” you offered.
Loki glared at you.
“You still feel like you don’t belong?”
Another glare.
“I don’t. Not with them. The only reason I am here is because of Thor who has conveniently forgotten I am even here.”
Your glance found his pale back as he spoke. Loki sighed.
“Would you feel better if I put this… sunscreen on?”
“I would, actually. You don’t wanna start the New Year as red as a crab. You should be blue,” you said, chuckling at your own joke.
“My true form might scare away the other hotel guests.”
“O-oh. No, I meant… blue as in drunk. Wait, so your Frost Giant form is… you have blue skin?”
Loki nodded. “And red eyes.”
“Damn… can you willingly control that? How you look?” You grabbed the sunscreen bottle from your beach bag and squirted a small amount in your palm. It caught fire the very moment it connected with Loki’s bare skin. Heavens… had he just… flinched?
“Odin put an enchantment on me when I was an infant. I could turn if I wished but it mainly triggers if I touch Jötun artefacts.” He didn’t seem all too delighted by the idea.
“I see.”
Quickly, to not get carried away by your fantasies, you rubbed the sunscreen on his back and shoulders and then offered him some more for his face which of course, he declined.
“Well… It’s gonna be a long evening. As soon as Tony brings out the schnapps, you can forget about reasonable conversations.”
Loki smirked. “Thor brought Asgardian ale. They will be unreasonable long before that.”
“And you?”
“What about me?”
You shuffled a little closer, careful not to sit in an awkward position and look at least a little sexy. “Do you plan on getting drunk?”
“It’s the beginning of a new year. Hardly a reason to celebrate.”
“Hmm… probably not if you turn thousands of years old. Still, living the life we do, we should be grateful for every year we’re still alive.”
Loki scoffed. It was easy for you to say, of course. You didn’t carry the entire multiverse on your back.
“I’m going for a swim. It’s getting a little too warm for my taste,” he announced.
You nodded, watching how Loki stood, strolled across the beach, and all but jumped into the ocean. You had to close your mouth to make sure you didn’t start drooling over him. Unfortunately for you, Tony sauntered over the very moment you picked up your jaw from the floor.
“You have a thing going on, don’t you?” the billionaire said. It wasn’t a question. In fact, you were quite certain he didn’t even expect a response.
“Excuse me?”
“I’ve seen the way you look at him. I’ve had dozens of women look at me like that. You want my advice? Stay away from him. Loki is trouble. I don’t care if he’s the harbinger of the multiverse now.”
“Don’t worry, Tony. I can take care of myself,” you replied with a flat voice. “You could ask him to join you guys, you know. He was sitting here like a pile of misery.”
“He is a pile of misery. And how is this my fault? He could have asked to join too.”
“He shouldn’t have to,” you shot back. Checkmate. Tony sighed, shook his head and, after taking a huge gulp from his water bottle, returned to the volleyball field.
Alright then… if they were not going to celebrate New Year’s with Loki, then you would. You didn’t like beach volleyball anyway.
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Loki had been right about the Asgardian ale. You’d been curious to try it and mesmerised by the taste. By dusk and only one small cup later, you were drunk. Well, sort of. You were present enough to form functioning sentences and sensible thoughts but you would be lying if you claimed that Loki hadn’t noticed your predicament.
Torches, driven into the sand, illuminated your unconventional party location, throwing dancing shadows on the ground and the palm trees around you. Music was blaring out from the speakers behind the bar where an employee, bless his soul, was preparing one alcoholic drink after the next. At some point, you had grabbed Loki’s hand and dragged him away from the centre of attention, somewhere you could talk in peace. You had so many questions—about him, about his thoughts, about his life. And the more questions you asked, the more you realised that apart from Mobius, perhaps, no one had ever taken such interest in him—over Thor, anyways.
You must have been talking for hours at this point.
“Loki? Can I ask you something… personal?”
“Twelve minus twenty-five!” Tony yelled. Right. Twenty-five minutes until the New Year.
The God of Mischief quirked an eyebrow. You took that as a yes and to be fair, he looked adorable holding a cocktail glass with a little paper parasol in his left hand.
“You’re a prince… and you’re a literal century older than me. You must have… lots of experience?”
“Experience with…”
“You know… intimacy. You, um…” You took a sip of your own cocktail. It was a Long Island Ice Tea, one of those you knew got you drunk even quicker than you intended. But you needed the liquid courage. It was the last day of the year, you might as well be daring. “You’re a really good kisser is what I’m trying to say.”
“Ah…” he teased. “You’re still thinking about our kiss, dear?”
“It’s hard not to. You wanna know the truth? I have the biggest crush on you. Not sure what’s stopping me from ripping your clothes off your body right now. Probably the fact that we’re not alone.”
Loki smirked. Then, with a start, he stood up and put both your and his cocktail glass on the little coffee table next to you both. Your heart skipped a beat when he offered you his hand. “Come with me.”
“W-where?”
“Somewhere we are… alone.”
Your eyes widened. The way he purred the words you were all but putty in his hands when you allowed him to pull you with him, back into his hotel room. They were big, massive suites all on the ground floor, actual cottages with straw roofs, a minibar, and king-size beds.
“It’s almost midnight. Whatever your plan is, we should probably—“ You didn’t get any further. As soon as the door fell shut and the room was drowned in darkness, Loki’s lips were on yours, his hands exploring your body and tugging on what little clothing you were wearing in this warm climate.
They were gone before you could blink, your legs wrapped around his middle, his hands on your butt, carrying you to bed. A moan escaped your lips when he broke his passionate kiss to get rid of his own clothes. He was wearing a white unbuttoned shirt, one that’d already had you drooling all over him, combined with another pair of dark green trunks.
You were about to comment how hot you thought he was when he kissed you again. You moaned again, felt his hard length pressing against your inner thigh. Instinctively, you spread your legs further, inviting him in. Still, he took his time.
One of his hands cupped your face, the other disappeared down to where you were already throbbing for him. Loki found you wet and eager, your back arching when he began to pamper your clit with gentle pressure, massaging the sensitive little nub until you went absolutely feral for him.
He was proving it, you realised. Proving a point. Answering your question. Yes, he had experience. And he was about to show you just how he could make his partners feel in bed. Fuck…
You whined when he pulled away but before you could complain, he pulled your legs apart even further and sank his length into you. He slid in meeting no resistance, filling you to the brim. For a moment, you both froze.
“You… feel like you’ve been made for me…” you heard him growl against your ear.
“Loki…” It was all you were able to respond when he began to fuck you, stroke after stroke after stroke. He was right. It felt so good you feared you’d pass out and miss out on the fun and you realised soon enough that you didn’t need his hands to give you bliss.
Loki buried himself even deeper inside of you, his forehead resting against yours; grinding so closely against you he created friction where you needed him the most. Slow and deep thrusts made you throw your head back. And then, all of a sudden, you could hear everyone outside count down from ten.
You came the very moment you heard the Avengers’ scream “Happy New Year”, followed by fireworks illuminating the night sky. Flickering, colourful lights fell through the gap of Loki’s curtains, reflecting the firework inside of you.
Pulsing around him, he kept pounding into you until he too reached his peak, his face buried in your neck.
The fireworks were still going by the time you were able to grasp a proper thought again, a whimper escaping your lips as you relished the feeling of Loki jerking against your walls and filling you with his seed.
“Happy New Year, Loki.”
“Happy New Year, dear.”
The God of Mischief smiled—it was quite possibly the most genuine expression you had ever seen on him. He pulled out and you rolled over so you came to lie on top of him. He was even more comfortable than the king-size bed. But when you tried to sit up and climb out of bed, he wrapped his arms around you, holding you captive.
“Where do you think you’re going? We’ve only just started.”
“Oh f-fuck… that sounds tempting but we should… probably wish everyone a happy New Year?” Loki quirked an eyebrow yet again. “Or maybe not…”
He smirked and allowed you both to sit up. With a simple snap of his fingers, he produced two glasses of champagne and handed you one. “Perhaps… I will start celebrating New Year’s after all.”
You grinned as you clinked your glasses. “But only if we do it exactly how we just did it.”
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A/N: Happy New Year everyone! ♥
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