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vetteltea · 4 months

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Love Will Always Show | CL16 & CS55

Summary: The choice of a lifetime is yours to make, your husband and lover both longing for your heart. They face conflict, choices and most importantly, one another.

Word Count: 8.4K [& a bit more]

Warnings: angst, mentions of cheating and dishonesty, manipulation, hospital talk.

Note: The fact I was a newbie to F1Blr when this started and now...here we are. I want to thank each and EVERY person who has ever read this series. It's changed everything for me, it is truly my love letter to you all and I hope you enjoy the finale. You are all forever in my heart and I cannot thank you all enough.

PART 1: A House, A Home | PART 2: Where Do We Go? | PART 3: ‘You Think, You Know’ | PART 4: 'Love Will Always Show'

Love is a gentle hand cradling your back.

Time had suspended when your body had collapsed onto the rough floor outside of the Scuderia Ferrari hospitality. Immediately, several scarlet-clad personnel were running over, shouts echoing across the open space, somebody mumbling that they needed to get you somewhere safe and warm before your body temperature dropped dangerously.

There’s a question of who to call; your father wasn’t in the country, ever since your mother’s funeral, he’s become silent, your siblings having been lovingly sent to stay with a close aunt. He had been absent from the previous Ferrari meeting, his assistant having sent a message to say he would be absent for a little longer. Clearly, the death of your mother was taking a toll.

The next obvious choice of course, was your husband. However, with the win that he had been craving for oh-so-long, he was currently wrapped up in press, endless ‘congratulations’ messages from celebrities and presenters alike. Nobody would know where to find the monegasqué right now, let alone how to tell him of his wife’s status whilst surrounded by endless television cameras and sly reporters.

There’s no need for him, anyway. Leaving the media pen after vigorous questioning of his loyalty to the team and his current emotions on a premature end to the race, Carlos’ dark eyes quirk to the side, registering the crowd of bodies circling the hospitality area. They only widen when the realization dawns on his clouded mind that it’s you, your body is the one thing they are all crowding around.

His steps break into a run, no signal being given to his media manager nor his cousin. He speaks a few sharp, spanish words, creating a break in the circle, able to insert his toned body into the sea of red, immediately squatting, one hand coming out to elevate the back of your head. He knows how particular you could be with your hair, how you insisted on now sleeping on silk pillowcases to keep it healthy. Asphalt ground was not comfortable nor hygienic.

There’s talk; talk about whether to take you to the hospital, whether to wait for your husband to return and make the decision. Carlos feels his blood curdle at the use of marital status. His teammate, the man who had treated you no better than the way he had treated bonds of trust, was the one to make a choice of your health and wellbeing.

He simply cannot stand for that.

“We need to take her to the hospital.” He interrupts the commotion, the strong tone settling over the panicked employees. “Surely that is the best place for her if she is unconscious, no?” The whispers and mumbles which echo the surrounding members of the team signify agreement.

There’s a discussion of how to bring you in without drawing attention to the media. Surely, if a giant ambulance or even a medical car was to storm through the paddock, no doubt endless media outlets would be creating headlines before even bothering to speak to anybody present. The Spaniard is already making his own choice, using his arms to gently adjust your body.

He shouldn’t; he really shouldn’t be moving you, not when you haven’t been checked for broken bones or concussion. Yet, the idea of the most beautiful girl, Mariposa, lying on a hard floor with no form of comfort or safety sickens him to his stomach. Carlos is still gentle with the movements, letting your head lean into his stomach, one hand is supporting your back, tanned fingers digging gentle patterns into the curve of your skin. The other one traces once, twice, three times around your cheekbone, dark eyes transfixed on your features.

You must have hit your skin when falling to the ground; there’s a graze dancing across your cheekbone, specks of dirt resting in between each knock. The man cradling you is gentle, moving his shirt just enough up his body that he’s able to take the hemmed end, feather it across your cheek in an attempt to remove the offending chunks.

Someone nudges Carlos’s shoulder, more in an attempt to tell him somebody was just outside the Paddock; that they could drive you to the hospital right now. He…he can’t bring himself to leave you. A strong grasp lifts you from the ground, holding you close to his chest, murmuring that he would get you there, and he supposed somebody would have to find Charles.

The area grows quiet; Carlos’ pace draws away from the Paddock and to the back entry. He was thankful that the entirety of the drivers were still either trapped in the media or with their own teams, celebrating or commiserating. He had enough of that for one day; an entire six laps was barely worth speaking about.

You’re still unconscious, still limp in his arms. However, there’s a rise and fall of your chest, you’re still breathing. That’s all he could ask for at this present time. He silently promises himself there and then that when you wake up, he’s making his final move. Where Charles has been playing chequers, he is playing chess; he had proven that even whilst you were stuck with your estranged husband, he would love you regardless.

There’s a people carrier in the car park, he’s certain he’s seen various drivers use it before; a built-in stretcher lies in the back, it’s ideally a discreet ambulance. The media could be brutal with gossiping when any driver had to leave the track. It would look worse if Charles Leclerc’s wife was seen leaving the paddock with his teammate. The driver of the vehicle nods when seeing the two get closer, stepping to sit in the driver’s seat whilst Carlos adjusted his grasp.

He lays you down onto the stretcher; it’s secured, you’ll be safe for the drive. The man can’t help but feel a draw of protectiveness over you. What on earth had caused it to collapse? Had he done something? Blood boiled, if your husband had done anything to cause this, he could personally guarantee that Charles would not be finishing any races for the remainder of the season. He would make sure of that.

His attention is caught by the glimmer of silver on your left hand; your wedding band. When he reaches the car, tucks you into the seat carefully and makes sure the seatbelt is secure around your frame, his fingers glide over your hand, removing the band and putting it in his own pocket.

‘It’s for your own good,’ he tells himself. ‘If your fingers swell up, they may need to cut it off.’ He could tell himself this story a thousand times; it doesn't hide the fact that his true intention in this moment is simple; for once, he could be the devoted husband, taking his wife to be nursed back to health.

The Spainard leans down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your forehead, murmuring that you were going to be okay, that he would stay with you the entire time. The driver shouts, telling him to take a seat so they could get there before the press figured out something was wrong. He kisses your skin once more, before closing the doors, sprinting to the backseat, throwing his body in carelessly.

Angst overtakes his senses, shouting at the driver to start the car, he doesn't care about being strapped in. This way, he’s able to lean over the backseat, one hand reaching out to clasp at your own. You need to know that somebody is there, that he is there for you. He’s always been there for you. The car pivots out of the parking space, beeling for the main road and to the hospital.

Love is a scream for your name.

“Charles, tu dois ralenir!” Joris is insisting he needs to slow down the car; turning the current Leclerc in hospital into a duo would not be a satisfying outcome.

Ever since he’s been told, all your husband can see is red mist. One Ferrari employee had sprinted up to him whilst he was in the midst of cameras, the grin on his face as he’s finally able to seek his wife out, wanting nothing more than to skip on the Scuderia celebrations and take you instead, your beaming smile radiating the energy he had been bathed in.

It’s funny how life can change in the matter of a few moments; one second, he’s on top of the world, the next, Charles is pushing through every media outlet, fan and celebrity, barging himself into his driver’s room. He doesn't have time to remove his fireproofs, to pick up any of his belongings apart from his car keys. He isn’t communicating, french profanities fall from his lips, shaking his head in rage that nobody could find him to tell him. Tell him that his wife had been taken to hospital.

Joris had been the one to sprint after him; he knew better than most, when Charles saw nothing but mist, there was no getting to him, not whilst he was determined to do something. The driver knew in his heart his best friend was not to blame; after all, he had no idea of your disappearance, he had been with Charles almost the entire time. And yet…he can’t bring himself to even speak to Joris. Not until the duo make it to his rented car, Charles is adamant he is driving.

He only starts speaking when his best friend tells him to slow down. The driver barely does, only drawing to a slower pace when he sees the traffic lights start to build in front of him. Even in a panic, he respects road rulings. Drawing to a stop, the man finally has a second to take a shaky, unbalanced breath, angry tears pooling at the bottom of his eyes.

“Why did nobody tell me my wife was at the hospital?” His voice is strained, he’s clearly holding back tears, whether they’re angry or fearful is a different question. “She’s my- she’s my wife!” He can’t stop repeating it, as if it’s a prayer. His wife. His wife.

“She’ll be okay.” Joris knows that’s quite possibly the worst thing he could say to his best friend, but it’s the only thing he can bring himself to say. “She will be. C’est juste par précaution.”

“Putain!” Charles’ words are sharp, immediately pressing on the acceleration as the light switches to green, overtaking three cars in a matter of moments. He’s a man of regret, he has been ever since he realized how much he adores you. In that moment, he can’t help but think of everything he could have done differently that afternoon. He could have come and found you right after the podium, could have given you his jacket and told you to stay in his driver’s room, he would come and get you after. He could- he could of-

He could of waited with you after the funeral. He could have come and picked you up from Milan when you went to spend time with Carlos. He could have deleted his mistress’ number, and told her he was married.

“Tourner à gauche.” Joris tells his best friend to turn left, the Hospital Car Park coming into view. Charles turns the car, immediately eyes are roaming for any space, anywhere he could put the car. A sharp whistle and point from his best friend shows him a space right by the Emergency Department, parking the vehicle in possibly the worst way he ever has done. Within three seconds, the engine is switched off, seatbelts are unbuckled, and he’s shouting to Joris to pay for the parking, he needs to get inside.

For a driver, his sense of direction is becoming worse. It takes him a solid minute to read a sign, before his legs break into a sprint, skidding into a bustling Emergency Room. There’s old men, leant over in pain, convinced they’re dying. A child snuffling, masses of paper towels on her head. A woman with a twisted ankle, her attention engrossed by the magazine in her grasp. It smells of hand sanitiser and bleach, the yellow walls are hurting his eyes.

A woman behind the desk taps the counter, drawing his attention. “Hey- Sir!” She snaps. You can’t blame her; it’s hour thirteen of her fifteen hour shift. “You can’t be in here unless you’re hurt-”

He shouts your name. It’s as if he completely forgets he’s in a building. Charles is embedded in a maze, even if a lady in front of him can pull up your immediate location, he needs to find you himself, and he needs to find you now.

It isn’t until Joris comes in, having heard his best friend scream your name, that he overtakes Charles so overcome that he’s now hiding his head in his hands, unable to say anything that wasn’t your name. His ears prick up when the second man starts speaking, giving the woman your first name, your last name- Leclerc- and when you had been bought in. There’s a light tapping of the keyboard, she tells Joris you are in the department round the corner, room ten-

Charles is gone before she can finish her sentence, catapulting down the hallway, dodging round endless people, frantically searching for doors with numbers, not names. He sees the number four. Six. Eight.

Number Ten rolls into view. Without a single word, his hand latches around the door handle, pushing so violently the door smacks onto the inside wall. His eyes immediately fly to the bed, you’re lying there, so unconscious, still so beautiful, some strips over the graze on your cheek. Still, arms to either side, one hand connected to an IV, clearly in an attempt to rehydrate you. His first question is the location of your wedding ring, where on earth was it? Has it been taken away? It’s a question he completely forgets about when his gaze travels further.

The other hand is being held by a Spanish man he knows all too much about.

Love is notes left on a coffee cup.

Both men stood, silently hovering over your body whilst the nurse came in to run a course of tests, check your blood pressure, the IV line, make sure you were being cared for in the best capacity. Each held a coffee cup, Charles’ still primarily full, he couldn’t stomach anything; he felt sick from seeing you lie here, not laughing, smiling, speaking. Carlos had downed the drink bought in by Joris in a matter of moments; to him, it was fuel. Something to keep him awake until you woke up.

Whilst Charles was the one to ask questions; ‘Do you know what caused this? Is she going to have any long-term issues? Does she need any assistance when she wakes up?’ Carlos has captured the marker which has rested alongside the clipboard of your notes, his tongue poked out in concentration. The marker grazes along the cup, leaving a note, drawing a tiny picture of a butterfly- Mariposa- and placing the cup on your table, a silent message for if you woke up and god forbid- he wasn’t there.

The nurse draws away from your body, diverting her next task to the two men.

“I need to continue the examination but…” She looks to the door. “I cannot have you both in here. You need to wait outside, the Doctor will come in for further tests-”

“Can one of us wait here?” Carlos is the first to interrupt, the look on the woman’s face tells him he’s made a mistake.

“Both.” She clarifies, pointing at himself, then at his teammate. “One and two. You need to wait outside. If she wakes up or there’s any…issues, we will let you know.”

It turns out, both men are hesitant to leave you; Charles moves first, crouching by your side, running a gentle hand over your hairline, pressing his lips carefully to your temple. He’s murmuring, french words of adoration and comfort, that he will be right there when you need him.

When one steps away, the other comes forward. Carlos doesn't say anything, instead tracing a gentle finger across your cheek. His touch tells you everything, it speaks volumes. He loves you, he’ll be outside, don’t be afraid to come running into his arms like you had done once before. The nurse begins to lose her patience, ushering both men out into the corridor, telling them to sit in the plastic chairs provided or go somewhere else; she really didn’t care.

The scene is reminiscent of two boys sitting outside of the principal’s office; Charles’ head hides in his hands, leaning forward, still dressed in his fireproofs. He’s tied the sleeves around his waist, the dark undershirt now drenched in sweat from the driving, both on track and to the hospital.

He feels movement next to him, Carlos’ hand dips into his pocket, pulling out something small, silvery. Her wedding ring. He supposes Carlos means it as a sign of goodwill, that he kept it safe. In the Monégasques mind, it’s the fuel to light the fire. Scoffing, he snatches the jewelry off of his teammate, placing the band onto his pinky finger, it’s the only one it would fit on, the only way he could keep it safe.

“Funny. You took it off her.” He’s growing mad, aggravated that Carlos wouldn’t just go away and leave him and his wife alone. Hadn’t he done enough already? “Why don’t you go back to Natasha?” The blonde ex-media woman for their team is referenced. Carlos opens his mouth, ready to snap back, it was a low blow for Charles to reference his history with the woman.

“I know what you did.” He huffs. There’s something…different. Different in the way he speaks to Carlos now compared to every other day. The polite, civil conversation is gone, the fact he couldn’t pass judgment because of his own actions has evaporated. “I know you invited her to Madrid just to make a move.” He remembers seeing the instagram stories, how your eyes were wide, full of life. He made you remember life is beautiful. “You kept her close. You wanted her and didn’t like that she was mine.”

“Yours?” He scoffs. “She’s not your property, Charles.”

“No. But she’s my wife. I’m the one she lies next to every night, I’m the one who will care for her in sickness and health, who’s shoulder was leant on through every bad time.” He pauses. “Who picked her up after you coaxed her into your bed.” He laughs. Actually, laughs. The memory replayed in his head, how sleepy you looked as he guided you back into the SUV, how your heart sank when seeing the blonde approach his front door. In that moment, you had convinced yourself you meant nothing to Carlos apart from lust.

Charles was a jealous man; he had taken pride in stripping off his teammates' clothing, wrapping you in his own, soft hoodie. You were his. Carlos wouldn’t care for you the way he did, he was a man too full of lust. He was convinced the Spainard didn’t make you laugh, didn’t make you smile, didn’t make you come-

“You corrupted her, Carlos.” He finishes. “I know what you did-”

“-And I know what you did.” Carlos snarls. He doesn't care about anything more; he knows all too well that his teammate could go crying to the Ferrari bosses, have him removed from the team in a blink of an eye, throwing some false information out which he would have to comply with. But he doesn't care. His affection has grown too strong for that.

“I know everything, Charles.” He’s monotone, he’s stating facts. “I know how she waited at home for you on her birthday, whilst you were in your mistress’ bed.” Carlos remembers asking you about your plans the previous week, how you had brushed them off. “I know how she made you dinner every night, how you refused to eat it.” Charles feels his stomach drop, the endless leftovers stacked neatly in the fridge, the meals he had never bothered to try. “I know on your wedding night, you came into the hotel room drunk, covered in bites and she slept on the sofa-”

“Enough!” Charles’ voice shouts, standing up from the plastic chair in the corridor. He doesn't have to hear this, he can’t bear to hear this. One mistake a day was something he was always able to brush off. Hearing each and every one of his infidelities laid out in front of him sent his mind into overdrive. “You have no right to comment on-”

“On what?” The Spainard is standing up now, chest out and arms folded. “On your marriage?” He laughs, he smirks. “Can you call it that? A marriage is a bond between two people who love one another-”

“I love her!” Charles cuts him off, stepping closer. “I love her.” He repeats himself. Carlos looks gobsmacked, shaking his head in denial.

“You have a really weird way of showing her you love her.” He continues to poke, to prod. “Sharing a bed with another woman is not how you show love-”

“I admitted to my mistakes!” He’s quick to defend himself, how the restraining order was placed and a lawsuit filed, how he promised if you wanted to know anything, see anything, he would let you. How he would spend the rest of his days always feeling dread and regret. “I fixed them-”

“Who says she still loves you?” Carlos has snapped.

Charles hates to admit that he may be right. Is it really fair for him to expect your love after everything that has happened in the past year? It didn’t matter how many times he begged, he pleaded or promised. The man you had married had spent the better part of 365 days in the arms of another woman, a woman that as he stood here, clinging onto any hope of his marriage, meant absolutely nothing to him.

His slim fingers trail down, circling the cool band which rested on his left finger. He had decided there and then, he would keep it on, always. There would be no more reasoning, none. If Lewis could wear his earrings, Charles would wear his wedding ring. He looks back up, Carlos still boring into him with dark eyes, the anger he radiated almost entirely visible.

“Do you love her?” He presses. He needs to know; he doesn't bring himself to care that you had spent a night in his arms, not when he had done it to you a thousand times over. The idea makes him sick, but nothing compared to the idea that you are in love with somebody that isn’t him, not when he needs nothing but for you to come home, back to your home with him.

Charles swears he feels vomit rise into his mouth when Carlos nods. He’s not stupid, not really. He knows how he fell for you properly in the past few weeks, how for Carlos who has been in awe of your affection and attention, the center of every race weekend you had reluctantly attended. It may have been to support him, but you could still enjoy the fact that Carlos would be there, too.

Your husband isn’t sure what he wants to do anymore. If there wasn’t an examination happening, he would have run into your private room and locked the door. Instead, his glassy eyes gaze up, catching Carlos’ dark ones. It hits him at once; his teammate, somebody who he once considered a close- no, best friend, was the one who had taken his wife away from him. His brain can’t catch up with his body movements, the red mist clouds over once more.

Charles Leclerc punches Carlos Sainz in the nose.

He doesn't intend for it to be a strong punch; Formula One drivers are a lot stronger than they realize, and the contact not only causes the Spaniard to knock back, shouting out in pain, but a sharp sensation rockets through Charles’ clenched fist, wiggling his fingers as they relax. Carlos’ nose is immediately red, becoming scarlet by the moment, though no blood has fallen. Your husband’s immediate reaction is ‘Should have punched him harder.’

He doesn't have time to think about anything else, not before he has two strong hands on his chest, shoving him harshly. The sudden sensation causes him to lose balance, falling to the floor and landing on his back. A shock radiates through his body, Carlos looming over him, clearly ready for a second punch.

That thought is drawn away when the door to your room opens, both men immediately staring at the nurse, her hair worn and eyes tired. Before either man can throw a question at her, she speaks.

“She’s still not awake, we’re going to bring her around in an hour, but she’s going to have to stay overnight for observation. If one of you could get her some overnight things-”

“I can.” Charles immediately cuts off the nurse, pulling himself to sit up and stand from the floor. “I’m her husband. I will get them.” It’s a subtle jab to the man in front of him, Carlos still holding his nose, convinced it was about to start bleeding any moment. He would have gone and sought out attention for himself, if he hadn’t felt a sharp vibration in his back pocket, a phone call. In any other time, he would have ignored it. But he knows who it is, he knows how important it is.

Without a word, Carlos answers the call, rapidly speaking in Spanish as he walks down the hall.

Love is a pocket square at the bottom of a suitcase.

The contrast of Charles leaving the hospital was night and day to him arriving. He hadn’t spoken a word to Joris, apart from expressing that he needed to go back to the hotel to get your overnight items. Although it was barely a ten minute drive away, every minute felt like a century; he wanted nothing more than to go back to the hotel, sit by your side and hold your hand until you woke up.

He could have sent Joris back, given him the room key and told him to grab some things, but it didn’t seem right. The idea of his best friend going through your suitcase didn’t sit comfortably with him. Moreover, he didn’t know. Charles knew; he knew what pajamas you found the most comfortable, what outfit would be easiest for you to travel back in, how you wanted your panties and socks paired together and how your phone charger had to loop clockwise.

The ornate hotel room looks dull without you; your suitcase still rests in the bottom of the wardrobe; you had hung up evening wear, dresses for the inevitable after-parties. Folded in your suitcase remained your other clothing. Charles is quick to select his items; the tropical cotton pajamas. You had bought him a pair in the same fabric, telling him that they would be the comfiest thing to sleep in. Your stitched jumper and comfiest jeans. You had worn those jeans when you had tagged along to his photoshoot for the Ferrari livery, holding his water and the APM Monaco jewelry he couldn’t wear. Your outrageously expensive hairbrush. You had brushed his hair through after a particularly bad race, whispering promises that it would get better, that the car was going to evolve for him, the best driver on the grid.

Bile rises to Charles’ stomach and with no warning, he sprints to the bathroom, dropping to his knees by the toilet and throwing up the barely-there contents of his stomach. He had barely eaten, barely drank any water, but couldn’t help the sickness in his tummy.

He pulls away from the toilet basin, eyes watery, breath trying to catch up with the speed and cries.

Charles doesn't realize it’s happening at first, he hasn’t cried like this in so long; the kind of crying where you can’t fathom words, you don’t make a sound because you’re crying so deeply. The kind where your chest is exploding and your heart feels like it’s going to explode. The kind where all he wants is for his mother to cradle him like she did when he was five, run her hands through his hair and whisper him words of comfort.

This time, he doesn't want his mother, he wants you.

It’s selfish, it’s so incredibly selfish and it hurts to know that it’s taken him until now to realize what you mean to him. It would never happen, but his wound-up head can only close his eyes and visualize you running in, pulling his head into your chest and running your hands through his dark tufts, pressing cool lips to his forehead and promising him over and over that it was going to be okay. You were going to be okay.

He lets himself cry for five minutes; he times it because he wants to collect your things and make his way back, Joris was waiting in the car. When the five minutes are over, he pinches his nose, taking short, ugly gasps until his eyes remain bloodshot but not blurred. The sound of the toilet flushing echoes through the hotel room, making his way out of the bathroom and to the items he had hurriedly dropped atop of your suitcase.

Nimble fingers cradle each item, carefully rolling and tucking them into a pillowcase; he didn’t have a bag big enough to suffice each item and couldn’t bring himself to bring your entire suitcase along, it almost seemed as if once you had it, you could disappear from his life. At least this way, he could have one final farewell if you chose to leave. The items are almost secure, until his grip on the pillowcase folds, glassed eyes catching a glimmer of blue hidden at the bottom of the case. With no hesitation, he pulls on the fabric. His heart drops on the realization of the item.

It’s a pocket square. More specifically, it’s his pocket square from your wedding.

You don’t know when you had started packing it, but you supposed it was from your mother’s own doings. After her wedding to your father, she had always carried around her ‘something blue,’ as a gesture of good luck, of safety. After the first time you had found out about Charles’ mistress, you had discreetly tucked the fabric into your bag, carrying it around, a silent hope your husband would return to you.

It hadn’t worked in Jeddah. In Imola. In Spa. In Monaco. You had reluctantly taken it from your bag one evening, on the plane home from consoling your family, using your pen to doodle in the very corner ‘Mr and Mrs Leclerc,’ a silent fantasy of the loving marriage you had dreamed of.

That night was the first time you and Charles ever shared a bed.

The fabric lingers between his fingers, the blue contrasting against the silver of your ring, still resting on his pinky finger. Now changed into his own clothes, he slides the ring off, wrapping it gently in the pocket square and sliding it into his trouser pocket. As he does, he recognises your handwriting, the titles printed in the bottom of the fabric.

He can’t help the tears rolling down his cheeks once again.

Love is a desperate telephone call.

Carlos is still pacing around the outside courtyard of the hospital, having been on hold for a grand total of seventeen minutes. He is not a man of patience, he is not a man of quiet.

The phone buzzing in the corridor had been a welcome call, despite the situation. His lawyer, finally ringing him back after what felt like days of apprehension. He had dipped from the public eye to try and grab hold of some privacy, slipping in his wireless headphone so as not to hold the device to his ear for hours upon hours.

Almost thirty minutes ago, his lawyer had called him, confirming his thoughts of the previous days.

"You're not wrong." His lawyer has already clarified it once, twice, three times. "If there is evidence beyond a shadow of a doubt, then it is the correct term for a divorce.

Carlos feels his blood run cold. He loves her, he's as certain as that as he is of the fact that the sky is blue and his win in Silverstone. The man wants nothing more than to make her feel cherished, adored. Taking a bite out of his teammate was just a bonus feature.

That had been a few days ago, when the anger had surpassed him after Natasha’s return, how that made him look as bad, if not worse than Charles. He’d immediately sent her packing, blocked her on every form of media, gone as far as to insist if she ever came for a visit, he wouldn’t be present.

The second part, the evidence, had been laid out all too perfectly.

The line suddenly clicks, signaling his lawyer had returned. Carlos doesn't wait for a verbal queue, the audible sign of his return is more than enough.

“Do you have it?” He asks, barely any time to let the man on the other end of the phone respond. “You must have it, no? It should have been sent. I made sure it was sent.”

“I have it.” He clarifies. “I have them right here.” A rustle of paper is heard from the other end of the telephone, content of an envelope being spilled onto his desk. “Are you sure you want me to send these to be confirmed as evidence? That the women in the photographs will not retaliate?”

Carlos had not been entirely honest with you. Not about his knowledge of Charles’ situation. Ever since the confession all those months ago, the understanding that you knew of Charles’ affair, he had been playing a long, patient game. He had photographs, evidence of the mistress’ appearance at each paddock, her arms snaking around Charles’ body, kisses between the duo. How he could continue to do so, whilst you, the epitome of beauty, sat in his drivers’ room, playing the doting wife. At one point, he had considered going directly to the press, directly to Ferrari themselves to out their ‘Golden Boy.’

And then…he had seen you with him in the Paddock that one race, looking through the window of his driver’s room. How your fingers latched onto one another, how genuinely shattered you looked when she had shown up yet again, lingering outside of the hospitality area. The guilt snuck through him, how he had seen her arrive, and yet failed to mention to you, give you any warning of her presence.

Even if he had been the one to invite her. Even if he had been the one to press her about sending the photographs to Charles, not blackmail. Merely a reminder of his actions, how much he supposedly missed his mistress.

“She wouldn’t.” He’s quick to respond. “She wouldn’t care.” He’s not wrong, his mistress being in the limelight would only elevate her status, with the way his teammates’ brain worked, it would more than likely draw them back to one another.

“And Mrs. Leclerc?”

It’s the first time Carlos has hesitated. Even if he couldn’t admit it to himself, he knew that your relationship with Charles had grown, that ambient it was made paper-thin, the trust was slowly beginning to come back. He thinks about how your eyes blinked widely, in awe of your husband on the podium earlier that day, how it supposedly didn’t matter he had spent most of your marriage wrapped in her arms, you still looked at him like that. Did you look at him like that? Like the way he looked at you.

This action could draw out a multiverse of reactions but at the end of the day, he had settled with two. The first was that you understood, that you would see the evidence, and understand the case. Divorce Charles and marry him, even if it meant he would give up everything.

The second is that you would see the chaos he caused and you would never speak to him again.

“Mr. Sainz?” The voice at the end of the telephone draws him from his questioning, running a hand across his red, swollen nose. It wasn’t broken, but god it was hurting. Bruised, most likely. “I need an answer.”

He needed to speak to you.

“Can you just-” He huffs, running a hand through his dark hair, his fingers almost getting caught in the strands. Of course his hair was tangled, he’d been doing nothing but pulling on it ever since he arrived at the hospital. “Let me speak to her. Hold it for 24 hours. You can do that, yes?” It’s not even a question now, nor a request. It’s a demand. He can’t do this, he can’t openly destroy your marriage for his own sake without speaking to you, without knowing for a fact that you love him.

Your name is carved onto his soul, onto his skin. The first thing he thinks about in the morning, and the last thing he would think about at night. There is no life he wishes to live in if you’re not there. Even as his friend.

There’s suddenly a light tap against glass, snapping the man’s attention from his device. He mumbles something in Spanish, telling his lawyer he would call him back, dreading who was coming out into the private courtyard.

He visibly relaxes when he sees it’s just a man, sneaking out whilst tears pool on his lower lashline, giving Carlos a warming nod.

“You don’t mind if I join you, do I?” The Spainard shakes his head. “My wife- she’s just being induced and wanted some space. She’s…” He gestures, trying to explain to a complete stranger how a few minutes ago, his wife wanted to cry and shake her head, but wanted nothing to do with him. It was all his fault.

Carlos offers a warm hand on his back, patting him firmly. “Congratulations. Do you know what you're having?” He’s invested, anything to distract him from his previous phone call, the weight of a decision on his shoulders.

The stranger grins. “A girl.” He smiles harder. “I don’t mind, as long as they arrive happy and healthy. But god- a girl, just like her.” He thinks. Carlos thinks. In an alternative universe, he’s sat by your side, pressing kisses and praises to your skin, holding you tighter as your daughter enters the world, ready to meet her mother and father. She would be like you; your eyes, hair, smile. It would be another you to love, to adore.

“Your first?” Carlos presses his question. The man sighs, shaking his head, shoving his hands into his pockets as he looks into the polished corridor.

“No. She’s…” He pauses. “We got together after hiding how we felt for so long, how we wanted to be with one another.” He looks to Carlos, clearly ashamed and embarrassed of the situation. “I know how it sounds, but sometimes you can’t help it. I- I love her.”

A band snaps in Carlos’ stomach; love knows no bounds.

Love is waking up to think of your person.

The first thing you register when you come around is brightness. You’re not in the soft glow of the luxurious hotel room you and your husband had been given, nor the candle-lit bedroom of Carlos’ apartment. No, the light is bright, blinding. An off-white which made your eyes squint.

Your senses are heightened; the only scent which flares through your nostrils is hand sanitiser and overpowering lilies. Nose scrunched, you attempt to wiggle your body upwards, aware of the IV line pinned into your hand. Panic immediately settled through your tummy, until your eyes flickered to the bag, realizing it was just water, they just wanted to rehydrate you.

Hesitantly, you wiggle each part of your body. Arms, hands, fingers. You’re able to move, though you couldn’t…you couldn’t remember why you got here. Memories are hazy, you remember Charles’ podium, the way he kissed you so deeply, so lovingly. Carlos’ hand on your waist, pulling you back to stop you from the champagne trickling over your body. You were overwhelmed, overworked and…you guessed it just all became too much.

You just about manage to turn your body, the first thing you’re aware of is that your cushion smells familiar. Warm nodes, sandalwood and seasalt. It’s a smell you’ve grown all too accustomed to, burying your face into their chest whilst you took refuge in his arms, in a hotel room. Charles had been there, already. His celebrations had clearly been cut short, whether or not it was for show or because he cared.

The second thing is the coffee cup. Cardboard, the contents clearly already drained, but handwriting etched onto the side in a thick, black marker. The handwriting, the doodle of a tiny butterfly. Carlos had been there, too.

There’s a sharp pinch on your cheek, fingers reach up to your skin and feel the butterfly strips against you. Immediately, a thousand questions come back to your mind, none of them being answered through your own memory. Instead, the door opens, a nurse in clean, bright uniform walking in, closing the door behind her. She beams at the realization you’re awake, shoulders relaxing.

“You’re awake!” Her tone is incredibly warm, seemingly very happy you’ve decided to wake up on your own terms. She’s quick to move to your bedside, pressing the back of her hand to your forehead. “How are you feeling? Have you warmed up?” You’re not sure what she’s referencing, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She takes the look on your face as unknowingness, able to fill in the gaps.

“You collapsed on the track.” She’s trying to get through everything she needs to tell you. “We did some tests, you’re incredibly dehydrated for a start, you need to try and get some rest.” She pauses. “It’s nothing to be concerned about, we have collapses from dehydration every so often, more than you would realize.” Her eyes flicker down, finding it hard on how to phrase the next part of the question. “You also seem…incredibly worried.” You’re not sure how she could tell that from simply examining you, but you nod in confirmation. “Your blood pressure, it’s incredibly low. That’s why you fainted.”

“Yes.” You pause. How on earth were you about to explain the past twelve months to a nurse, a complete stranger? “There’s been some…reasons. You know, for the stress.” Her eyes soften, but the questioning continues.

“Are you trying for a baby?” You shake your head. “Moving house?” A shake. “Have you…lost somebody recently.”

You freeze, memory flickering to your mother, how in the midst of fixing your marriage, discovering your affection towards another, she had disappeared from the world. This time, you nod your head, drawing your knees up to your body, shivering. The nurse is quick to wrap a blanket over your shoulders, closer to the answer.

“I lost my mother.” You breathe out, shaking your head. “I lost my mother, and she’s the only one I can go to.” Now you’ve started speaking, you can’t finish. “I want to make them happy. I want to make him happy.” There’s tears glassing over your eyes.

You want him. You want him right now.

She sympathizes, she understands. “Sometimes, all you need is for them to tell you it’s going to be okay, right?” She lets her words trail off, turning to the door of your room. “He’s outside. He’s been waiting to see you.”

Your blood freezes.

“Would you like me to get him?”

You nod before you’ve even realized, your body clearly knows better than your mind. The nurse stands up straight, pacing towards the door as you feel your heart begin to race harder, frantically. She steps out of the room, a minute mumble on the other side, clearly a warning to be incredibly careful. It’s barely a minute before the door swings back open, dark hair and frantic panting.

You glance up, your heart softens at those eyes.

The eyes that you, the reader, wanted to see as you glanced to the door.

GREEN EYES [CL16 Ending]

BROWN EYES [CS55 Ending]

This is everyone who asked to be tagged! @Mac-daddy-210 @aundercover@barnestatic@omgsuperstarg@chimchimjiminie16@caelum-the-part-time-nihilist @magicalcowboyarbiter @gaslasysblog@junetto @beatrizmel-472 @motorsp0rt@crowdthena@screemqueen@lewislvr@styles-sunflower@itspaddockprincess@adeptustemptations @amalialeclerc @meetmyblondemuffins@formulanando@lorarri@christianpulisic10@gaypoetsblog@thisbitxhs-blog@goldsainz@ru-kru@magical-spit@hrlzy@nooshytushie@gaslysainz@marvel-at-stucky@sugarvibez@adeptustemptations@roseseraj@leclercdream@pjofics@hecatesfavoritechild@poseforme@thisbitxhs-blog @adalynneva @meganlikes2purr @sabrinaselina55 @laneyspaulding19@heavenlyiecreature@pink-teddy-bear@nooshytushie@strawberries-and-racing@milasexutoire@ohthemisssery@florkt@obsessedwiththeideaofyou@ru-kru@myhomeworksnotdone@ineedafictionalman@bregarc@allywthsr@summerslike11@wildcupcake@willowpains@marlenamallowan@leclercloml@katzenwahnsinn@be-your-coffee-pot

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himbocoups · 5 months

Text

˗ˋˏ CRAWL ˎˊ˗ | 18+ Only

SYNOPSIS: If there is anything about the Devil, it’s that he always keeps his promises. The problem is, he’s mad that you seemed to have forgotten his promise. Crawling for the Devil is the least of your problems.

PAIRING: devil!yjh x reader (afab)

GENRE: fantasy | smut, pwp

TAGS: featuring: sub!ksy, artist!xmh, housemate!jww | auditory voyeurism, pegging (m receiving), fingering, hickies, face sitting, oral + face fucking (m receiving), tail play, degradation, crawling, spanking, swallowing, toys, manhandling, pnv

WC: 5.2k

A/N: hello! currently working on my thesis so writing this was a way to blow off steam. I also wasn't going to write another devil!jeonghan fic so thank you to @whenyourenothere for convincing me! this can be read as a standalone fic or a part two of red horn. special s/o to @junkissed for helping me figure out the tags for this fic bc there's a lot <33 - nu ♡ | tagging: @jjeongddol

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It is a rusty metallic foldable chair that you sit on that squeaks and creaks even with the slightest movement. You try to readjust your posture — definitely not sure if you should sit up straight with your back against the dusty chair or with your hands folded neatly on the edge of the devil’s table in front of you. In fact, you’re not sure whether or not you are supposed to touch the devil’s office desk, so you choose to lead with the prior option. And the metal chair reacts, drawing out a long and uncomfortable creeeeak as you shift your weight backward.

Maybe you were just lucky last time, led by the Devil to believe that maybe you were worthy of being somebody special in this vast world. In this underworld where the universe’s menagerie of creatures visit with last hopes of finding a solution, you are finally coming to a conclusion that you’re only but a speck of dust in a world that knows no bounds.

The small office room feels humid and stuffy; its previously supposedly beige wallpapers are now a darker shade of brown that peels in large patches to reveal dirty and white painted-over bricks. Splotches of mold line the edges of the patches, and you find yourself wishing that mold spores aren’t a thing that exists in Hell. But it’s Hell, and anybody who dealt with mold before knows that the process of treating mold is basically hell. The navy colored carpet looks old and worn out. Several flat and black pieces of gum stick to it, already dried and surprisingly shiny in color.

On the desk and pushed to the corner is an old and vintage PC, the kind with the square monitors and the back that protrudes outwards. You can feel the heat from the computer console blow against your skin and leave a faint burnt metallic scent in its wake. Not sure what to do or if you’re supposed to do anything, you sit in silence as the devil behind the computer screen slowly types and moves his mouse on top of his mousepad to fill out the information he has in the giant manilla folder spread out in front of him.

You retract your lips inwards and bite the gummy and smooth underside of your lips while you stare at the stack of business cards pointed toward you. Craig. His name is Craig with no last name. Demon. So you’re wrong. He’s neither a devil nor is he the Devil with a capital “D” whom you were previously introduced to. He’s just office worker Craig, the demon you were assigned today.

“Do you think it’s too stuffy in here?” He asks you while lifting his mouse from the mousepad before setting it back down to readjust the roller ball underneath. Not once does he turn to look at you or make eye contact with you.

“A little,” you reply feeling awkward and a bit burdened by the question for almost no reason at all.

He nods his head while tracing his long and crooked finger against a line on the stack of papers in front of him before typing in the data in his computer. He sniffs and snorts his phlegm while clearing his throat. It was just small talk; there is no way an office worker in Hell would care about your wellbeing. You find yourself wondering if central cooling is a thing in Hell while trying to peek at the contents of your surprisingly large folder with no avail.

This room, this office worker, this situation…none of this is the same as the beautiful and luxurious office space you imagined stepping in for the second time. Long gone is the plush gray Persian rug and the mahogany desk that belongs to the owner himself. And your large file that is spread out before the demon you’re assigned, you cannot help but think about the event or even events that could have possibly added to the flimsy pieces of paper the Devil flipped through when he first met you. And the thought of Craig reading your file only causes your face to heat up in embarrassment.

“Um.” You force yourself to break the awkward silence. “May I use the restroom before we start? You still haven’t asked me what I’m here for, and I think I accidentally came under the assumption that I would be assigned to the same person. I’ll be quick in case you need me immediately.”

“Down the hall,” the demon mumbles while hunching his back to allow himself to squint closely at the screen in front of him.

Picking yourself up from your seat, you basically fling yourself out of the office while thinking about the fresh air that awaits you in the hallway. No thoughts about the demon nor suspicions regarding the fact that the demon didn’t really point you towards a particular route to the restroom floated in your mind. Coming here was a mistake, and you are willing to face any repercussions for walking out of a meeting with a demon if it means having to save yourself from the embarrassment of having that demon read your file regarding your previous request with the Devil.

However, what awaits you on the other side of the door isn’t the hallway from which you entered the office you were in. Instead, you find yourself in an oddly familiar bedroom. Light navy blue floor-length curtains cover the window with their original pleats from when it was first purchased about a year ago still intact. Pushed against the window is the full-sized bed with the orange-stained wooden headboard and the mess of frost blue blankets haphazardly strewn on the mattress. The soft and rotund tiger plush lays threateningly close to the edge of the bed, able to be toppled over even with the slightest movement on the mattress.

The owner of this bedroom is in the middle of it all. Kwon Soonyoung kneels on his bed with his legs spread and his ass up. He already looks so fucked out. His left cheek is pressed against his mattress while he looks back at you with his hands tied behind his back. The position he’s in doesn’t seem comfortable at all, but his expressions, demeanor, and soft whimpers coming out of his mouth digress.

“Please,” he practically begs you from his pitiful position. You can see how his lean thighs tremble while he struggles against his restraints. He wails with such desperation, “I want it. I want it so badly,” so much that it almost sounds as if he is going to cry from your lack of action.

Then comes the teasing. You find the words naturally flowing out of your mouth: “Conciseness in your language, Soonie. What is it that you want?”

But the thing is, you know what comes next. You know what his response is as you slowly make your way over to him.

“Peg me. I’m ready,” he gasps while a tiny translucent pearl gathers at the tip of his dangling cock. “Blow my back out.”

You already know exactly how many times you will yourself to slap his ass to prep him before his legs give in. You already know how lewdly he would gasp as you insert the tip of the toy, how he would bury his face in his blankets as he moans out loud. You find yourself repeating actions as if being controlled by a machine, yet you don’t hate it. You’re magically stuck in a limbo between reality and déjà vu, presently recreating the past.

You feel his walls sucking in the toy, taking it in so well. Like a special switch in an escape room, once you grab onto his aching cock to stroke him while you peg him, the scene immediately switches.

Naked and in the middle of a studio apartment that reeks of paint fumes and essential oils, you look at yourself through the standing mirror in front of you. Despite the fan blowing in the background and the apartment windows propped open, you don’t feel cold at all. Instead, your skin pricks with heat as the sensation of arousal gathers itself at your core and spreads to the tips of your fingers. Beneath you is a mop of platinum blonde hair of the artist who sits by your feet.

Xu Minghao gently grabs you by the waist so that he can angle you so that you can get a better view of his artwork on your body. You remember that with him, you always felt safe and appreciated. He traces his slender finger along the length of your thigh, bringing it up to your ass. He makes you feel valuable through your soreness, the entirety of your right ass cheek covered in his carefully placed hickies. Your pussy throbs with eagerness, waiting to be filled before all of the juices run dry.

“My work of art,” he mumbles before he brings his lips to your ass cheek. In the open space where the bruises connect, he bites it with his teeth and swirls the flesh in between his teeth with his tongue. His left hand makes its way to your opening, thumbing the smooth nub that immediately makes your knees buckle. So he positions himself behind you, strongly wrapping his long right arm around your legs to keep you steady as he nips and sucks while he takes your time to circle your clit before he finally slips his finger in your core as if the action is like second nature to him.

Pleasure builds in your soul and makes your body scream with pleasure as Minghao meticulously massages your inner walls, stroking and tapping your spongy insides as you writhe in his arm. He adds another finger, filling you up and building your high, scissoring you while you moan his name as your liquid drips down his fingers and collects in his palm.

“Done,” he breathes as he shifts his body so that he sits between your open legs. You can feel how his warm breath hits your skin as he speaks with his lips nearly on your cunt, “Flower on your ass. Sweet and puffy rose sitting on my face.”

Before you can re-experience all of what it felt like to sit on Minghao’s face like a chair, you find yourself in another room. This time, you’re in your own place in the room next to yours. From the placement of the desk to how the bed is pushed against the corner of the room, flush against the wall, the layout of this room directly mirrors your own. There are a lot more notecard art prints taped to the wall than you last remembered. The LED lights built into his mechanical keyboard softly pulses as it switches colors. And there is the all too familiar smell of his laundry detergent and dryer sheets that fills his room — he had just unloaded his laundry from the dryer, but didn’t have time to fold his clothes as they still sit in the laundry basket placed in front of his closet.

You’re not sure if you’re allowed to be here at all. It’s not often that you find yourself in Jeon Wonwoo’s bedroom, but when you do, you’re usually near the threshold of his door. And to be sitting on his plush gray sheets, you think it feels too intrusive. Still, you’re not sure if you should move from your comfortable position despite the fact that you’re not close enough to him to enter his bedroom just to chill without him present. And the worst of all, you’re pretty sure you’re still soaked from your previous encounter with Minghao. And that you’re still definitely in hell because there is no way you would ever allow yourself to feel this close to coming on Wonwoo’s bedsheets without his permission.

Two soft knocks on the door diverts your attention to the closed door.

“Yn,” Wonwoo's deep and tender voice calls your name from the other side of the door. “Is everything okay? I’m coming in.”

The thing is, this occurrence with Wonwoo had never happened before. You’re stuck in a scenario far different from the other two. So, you shouldn’t be as surprised as you are when you saw him walk through his bedroom door. Instead of the tall and built housemate that you sometimes find yourself secretly fawning over, is the sinister yet charming man you haven’t seen in ages.

Yoon Jeonghan steps into your housemate’s bedroom with the irresistible charm of his while flaunting an oversized black t-shirt whose sleeves almost touch his elbows. The Devil is here, and he knows everything that you’ve been hiding from him.

He slams the door behind him and takes long and fast paced strides toward the bed until his figure towers over you. And the Devil himself smirks as he purposely leans down until his bangs dangle in front of his forehead and your entire upper body is pressed against Wonwoo’s sheets. His right hand presses into the space next to your left shoulder as he looks down at you with a pitiful look on his face.

“What?” He almost scoffs at you in his beautiful light and airy voice. “You didn’t once stop to think that maybe all of this was my doing? That you would relive your memories with who was it? Kwon Soonyoung and Xu Minghao? You’re more fucking stupid than I remembered. Were you fucked too hard by Seungcheol that you lost a few braincells? Or was it with Joshua when you accidentally hit your head too many times against the inside of his car door?”

He cocks his head to the side as he grabs your chin with his left hand. Cold to the touch, this miniscule action has you struggling to catch your breath. He tilts your head left and right as if to carefully inspect what is his.

“My pet,” he coos while letting go of your chin. Where his cool fingertips touched your skin now pricks with burning heat. And he takes his time to kneel on the bed while still hovering over your body. “This is the bedroom of the guy you get off to? You don’t think I know about how often you touch yourself while he fucks the people he brings over to this bedroom? And now you’re horny again? You want to fuck on the bed of the guy you want so deep in your gut?”

As stupid as you are, you find yourself shell shocked and in awe at the Devil on top of you so much that you unconsciously nod in agreement to every single humiliatingly detailed sentence that comes out of his mouth. The topic isn’t about Jeonghan and you, but the sexual tension established between the two of you knocks on your pussy and makes your mouth go dry. Fuck, maybe he is right. Fucking other men over the span of time since you last saw Jeonghan could never amount to what you felt when you were fucked by the Devil. Lost in your delusions, you could only get off to what you couldn’t have. And when the world’s most untouchable creature is currently so close to you that the collar of his black tee hangs so low that you can peek through the hole to see the expanse of his lean body, the warning signals your brain is desperately trying to send you are unfortunately dispelled by the eagerness of wanting to take a second dip.

“How much do you want me?”

“Enough,” you reply while staring straight into his eyes.

He wastes no time by pulling out his cock from his sweats as you sit up from your previous position. Cold and hard are the two adjectives you can use to describe the feeling of him tracing his cock along your open lips. But he won’t let you touch him. He won’t let you kiss him. He lets you starve as your eyes flitter between his cock on your mouth and his deceivingly beautiful face as he pumps his cock. And he taps his member on your lips, telling you to open your mouth wider. And you can feel him slip himself through the hole you made, how the veins on the underside feel against the smooth and warm inner part of your lips. You’re hungry. Starving. Basically wishing that he’ll let you close your mouth around him and suck him to the point you’re reminded that he had no soul to begin with.

So when he commands you to suck, you do as he says. You lick the tip, wetting and coating it with your saliva. Swirling your tongue around the length, you warm up the member in your mouth as more of his salty taste coats your tongue. Then you close your lips around him in a perfect “O” while shifting yourself on your knees so you can take him better.

You suck, hollowing your cheeks while gliding your mouth along his length. God, how you bend so easily for him. Your eyelids flutter as you continue to take him along his curved length. And moan while your mouth is plugged, a muffled moan of ecstasy when you feel him twitch while sandwiched between your lips. To make matters worse, whenever you look up at him as you edge yourself to take him in further, you see that he looks perfectly composed.

“Wider, slut,” he tells you while pumping what you can’t take. His hand is on your jaw again, and he squeezes your jaw between his long fingers so that it stays open. Your pool of saliva escapes the corners of your lips and trails along your chin before it drops on Wonwoo’s sheets. And he fucks himself in your mouth by manually moving your head along his length, barely giving you enough time to flatten your tongue against the whole of his length. He pushes his length into your mouth and groans when you gag.

He fucks your mouth to find satisfaction and get off on your uncomfortableness, watching you moan while struggling to keep up with his pace. His hand leaves your jaw and attaches itself to the back of your head, grabbing a fistful of hair as he uses it to swing your head back and forth like the ping pong ball attached to a paddle toy. The two of you know that the rate in which he fucks your mouth is too much for you, yet you find pleasure in being used by the higher being while he fucks your mouth to the sounds of you struggling against his cock and the wet smack of your lips when you spit him out after he comes. You swallow what you have and hurriedly wipe the liquid white off your chin and lips. You watch him tearfully as he finishes with his cock in his hand and his seed on the bedsheets and your thighs.

“I- I’m sorry,” you stutter as his angry red length bounces in front of your teary eyes. You want to lean in again to put him between your lips before he can punish you. You want him to call you names and make you feel bad about yourself. You want him to pump himself while he looks at you attacking the slit on his tip like how you want him to eat you out. You want to swirl your tongue around the spongy smooth surface before using the tip of your tongue to dig into the area in which his precum emits.

Your thighs rub together to ease the unsatisfied throb of your core. You need stimulation from him in any way. Just a kiss. A touch. Anything from Jeonghan would probably edge you to completion, but he doesn’t want to help you. And you don’t want to give up this opportunity with him.

“I’m s-sorry Jeonghan. Jeonghan, I’m sorry. Please…,” you plead as you watch him look down on you with a face of disappointment. You want to physically reach out to him to tell him you’ll do better, to tell him to give you another chance. But you see him take a few steps backwards and you’re sent into a state of frenzied lust and panic. You’ve never been so desperate to please, to complete a request from a man. You’re so deluded by the Devil that it feels as if your entire world will end if you don't please him or hold yourself up to his standards.

Gone is the man who called you his Angel the first time he met you. In front of you is the Devil who willfully draws you in, who has you stumbling off of your housemate’s bed just so that you can crawl your way over to him in your blissful haze. The more Yoon Jeonghan steps backwards, the more your vision tunnels on his body as you crawl across the bedroom floor, not caring about how uncomfortable the hardwood floor is underneath your palms and your knees.

When you come to your senses, you realize that it’s a different kind of hardwood underneath your body. Your naked body is displayed on all fours on Jeonghan’s large mahogany office desk like an object on display. You don’t even remember if you had your clothes on in the first place. But it feels as if the Devil suddenly wanted to bring one of the several trinkets he has displayed along his office wall to play with at his desk. You were confident that you could show him how much you’ve changed since you last saw him. Yet he has a way of proving how wrong you are. You’re no match for the Devil, and he intends to keep it that way. And in a way, to be displayed in front of him, it makes you feel as if you’re one of his prized possessions.

Your eyes watch him as he circles around his desk while he looks you up and down. He’s no longer in his t-shirt and sweats, but in a classic white button-down with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows and a pair of black tailored slacks. Golden and thin-wired circular glasses sit on the bridge of his nose. Protruding from the top of his head are his red horns. And this time, the long and forked tail that he previously kept hidden swishes behind his back. He brings the length of his long tail up to his left hand before tightly coiling it around the palm of his right hand like a long red rope. And one look from him through his glasses, a satisfying smirk and an arched brow, you know that you’re done for.

He takes the tip of his tail and traces it along your naked body, causing your body to jolt and shudder in response. He uses it like a teacher’s pointing stick, the tip running smoothly along the curvature of your body. He’s purposely toying with you, watching you try not to squirm every time he traces his tail anywhere near your glistening cunt.

“Do you think it’s too stuffy in here?” He jests while planting himself at the edge of his desk behind your ass. It hits you that you heard this question before, and only now do you realize that the Devil has been playing with you all along. You feel him trace his tail along your cunt, letting a prong trace along your folds as if it were his finger.

“Fuck!” you gasp out loud. “That was you?”

You feel the stinging pain on your ass after you hear the crisp slap ring into the air. Your stomach tightens as your pussy clenches in response.

“Shut the fuck up Yn,” he grunts. “Cumsluts can’t talk.”

You moan when you feel his tail go underneath a fold, causing your thighs to go weak. But he pulls his tail away from your core to tap it against your outer thigh. Hold yourself up, the action seems to say. So you gather your strength to maintain your position, ignoring the soreness in your knees and the fact that he’s been with you ever since you stepped into “Craig’s” office. When you spread your thighs, your sensitive cunt opens up like a flower in bloom, warm and wet against the stale office air. Jeonghan doesn’t ravish its beauty like how Minghao often does. He doesn’t want to.

Although your forearms are tired and your thighs burn from exhaustion, your pussy pulsates like it’s its own living entity — full of life and eager to be filled. Right now, only Jeonghan can grant these conditions. And you’re willing to wait even if your horniness drives you mad.

He firmly grabs your ass, angling it so that your glistening pussy is in full view.

“From this point on, I’m going to make you scream my name like a requiem made for angels.” He forcefully pulls your ass back so that it’s pressed against his stomach while he leans over your figure so that his mouth is near your left ear. “I’ll ruin you if you try to crawl away. But I’d like to see you try.”

You’re pretty sure you already soaked his shirt in the place where your core was pressed against the fabric. It amazes you how he easily flips your body so that you’re laying flat on his desk with your legs propped up against the wood. Any further back, you would be in a mating press.

You wonder if he can read your mind, how much you want to ride him up and down his length and for him to coat you so much that you’re left with soft and silken skin. Even if he tied your hands behind your back, you would still go on your knees to unbuckle his belt with your teeth.

He’s been sensing your urgency since you summoned him. Looking at your sopping cunt and dragging the tip of his tail along your clit, he decides to ease the heat in your stomach by slowly pushing his tail into your core. You moan in response as you slowly adjust to its size, feeling everything from the way it fills your walls to the way it is as smooth as a glass dildo. You shudder at the way he pulls it out of you for a mere second before pushing it back into you, causing your stomach to twitch and your thighs to close around his hand.

He leaves his tail in you while he pries your thigh apart.

“What’s the use in thinking about mounting my cock if you can’t even keep your legs open? What’s an ego if you can’t even embody it correctly?” he mocks you before bringing down the hand that once held his tail against your heat. The impact feels as hot as the way your arousal burns. You cry out in elated pleasure; one convulsion is enough to push the tail halfway out of you. “Useless excuse of a human,” he laughs at you before grunting as he pushes his tail back inside, twisting it as he plunges it in and out of you. “You’re all talk, yet you bend at the thought of me.”

Cock-deprived, you clench around his tail as you gasp for air. Your pussy sucks the tail in and refuses to let go, making you mewl for Jeonghan to fuck you hard while he thrusts his tail in and out of you. “Nn-nh. Jeonghan! Ah- Yes. Yes. Fuck me. Use me.” You squeal and moan out loud as your high builds at an incredible speed. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your back arches off the desk and you feel as if you’re levitating. “I’m gonna come.”

“Come.”

You cream at his command, coating his instrument in a thick and white sheen. Your stomach folds inwards as you whimper from the pleasure. He pulls his tail out of you while coaxing more out of you by lightly tapping your nub as you convulse. Overstimulated, you come another time, babbling his name and telling him how good you feel as you squirt against his slender fingers.

“Look at you,” he coos. “You made a mess on my table only from my tail. What’s going to happen when you take my cock? You’ve already folded yourself into a fucking fetal positon, Yn.”

You can feel your liquid drip from your pussy to your ass before it pools on the table underneath you. You feel so relieved and relaxed from your high, but there is still this insatiable need for the Devil to fuck you.

When he does, his cock fills you and squeezes you dry. His head rubs against the top of your walls while his veins work like a ribbed toy — adding more pleasure than you have ever experienced. Fingers digging into your thighs, he pulls out and slams back into you, his balls slapping against your ass with every thrust. You want to scream out his name as you clench around his length, sucking him in and never wanting to let go. But the image in front of you is a sight to behold, leaving you breathless as you watch it unfold.

You watch him through your half-lidded eyes, the scene of him as he throws his head back. You can see the way he swallows your cum that coats the tail he sucks in his mouth, how his Adam’s apple bobs when the liquid travels down his throat. You’re nothing but an instrument for his pleasure, and he sure knows how to show it.

He bucks his length into you so that it kisses the deepest parts of you, causing you to gasp and quake in your stomach. And he keeps it there with his legs pressed against your ass and the underside of your thighs. Slowly grinding against you, he revels in how you choke from the size of him and how you clench and unclench as if you’re struggling to hold on.

He pops the tail out of his mouth, a long string of saliva like a web between the tip of his prong and his tongue. He looks like a character from a lewd illustration, so beautiful yet so deadly. And you find yourself into another dimension as he thrusts further into you, grunting as he watches you scream for him.

“Fuck!,” you scream as you squeeze your eyes shut. “You’re going to tear me apart.”

“Gonna,” he grunts between every thrust, increasing his pace with every word. “Make. You. Feel. Everything.”

Your entire body trembles with pleasure, your breathing erratic. He continues to thrust into you, talking with his sweet tongue about how your slick and puffy pussy drives him insane.

“There’s nobody in this world who can fuck like I do,” he reminds you. “Now squeeze me hard as I cum in you. We’re going to be making a new type of liquid.”

#svthub #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #seventeen smut #svt smut #jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan smut #jeonghan x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen fic #seventeen scenarios #✏️ ━ himbocoups

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mcflymemes · 5 months

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PROMPTS FROM MADAGASCAR * assorted dialogue from the 2005 film, adjust as necessary

do not interrupt me when i'm daydreaming!

just wanted to wish you a happy birthday!

i got something stuck in my teeth. it's driving me crazy! can you help me out here? please?

okay, just don't talk with your mouth full.

what the heck is this doing in there?

it's just that another year's come and gone and i'm still doing the same old thing.

i see your problem.

maybe i should go to law school.

you know it's all in your head.

gather around, people. big show's about to start.

just smile and wave, boys. smile and wave.

we don't want to risk another cave in.

i want you to look cute and cuddly.

i'll be here all week. in fact, i'll be here for my whole life.

we don't belong here. it's just not natural.

you can actually go there? that sounds great!

you didn't see anything.

you guys are just embarrassing me. and yourselves.

what are you talking about? we worked on that all week.

oh for crying out loud, [name]. would you just tell us?

i told you it was bad luck.

i hear they have wide-open spaces in connecticut.

everybody has days when they think the grass might be greener somewhere else.

don't do that. you really had me worried there.

you suck your thumb?

this doesn't make any sense.

you don't bite the hand that feeds you.

you know, maybe one of us should wait here.

can i shoot it?

did that just say "grand central station" or "my aunt's constipation?"

we have an emergency here! this is an emergency situation!

get a grip on yourselves people!

how could you do this to me?

what's the big deal? i was coming back in the morning!

i am loving the sound of your voice!

because of me? i fail to see how this is my fault.

i did not ask you to come after me, did i?

does anybody feel nauseous?

don't make me come up there.

let's just talk about it like adults.

i'm going to kill you! you come here! don't run away from me!

san diego? what could be worse than san diego?

don't you shush me!

where there's music, there's people.

a sidewalk would be nice.

this place kinda grows on you.

oh, i'm not smiling. it's gas.

i don't know how things are normally run around here.

they've come to kill us! and take our women! and our precious metals!

i have devised a cunning test to see whether these are savage killers.

aren't you the sweetest little thing.

they're always annoying us by trespassing, interrupting our parties, and ripping our limbs off.

can you not see that you've insulted the freak?

you must tell me, who the heck are you?

all hail the new york giants!

you know something? i bet they're already on their way.

i've been standing here for hours.

look, i've been thinking. maybe if you gave this place a chance, i don't know... you might even enjoy yourself.

hey, have a drink. it's on the house.

i haven't eaten in two days.

excuse me. you're biting my butt.

what's a simple bite on the buttocks among friends?

they're on a slow lifeboat to china.

i don't want to hurt you.

should we head back to new york?

after much deep and profound brain things inside my head, i have decided to thank you for bringing peace to our home.

ooh. you just read my mind.

you know, i wouldn't even mind coming back here sometime.

#rp meme #rp memes #rp prompt #roleplay memes #roleplay prompt #rp starters #ask meme #ask memes #roleplay meme #roleplay inbox prompts #rp inbox meme #inbox prompt #inbox meme #sentence starter prompt #sentence starter #sentence starters #mcflymemes #madagascar

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lanitalay · 2 months

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One day : Chapter 6

Based on the Netflix series by the same name

a/n: I literally cried writing this. Ouchie. Im sorry for the angst, we'll get fluff soon enough. I'm actually working on a fluffy one shot rn. So expect that soon.

warnings: ansgt, drinking, swearing?,

Word Count: 1.8k

Masterlist

You sat next to Nesta at the bar. It was the first time in over fifty years that you had been on the boat for the Summer Solstice celebrations. That morning, you had done everything in your power to feel the excitement you usually do on this day but nothing worked. It did not help that you woke up on the floor, naked and next to a stranger. It also did not help that you’d be forced to see the two people you wanted to do nothing with. Most importantly, it didn’t help that the only way to keep the collective hangover from a months long bender at bay was to keep drinking. You were constantly nauseous and dizzy. Mind fuzzy so that no thought could stay long enough to hurt.

“Want another?” Nesta asked you as she motioned for more liquor to be poured in her glass. You mumbled something that sounded like “yes” and then your own was full to the brim again. Had you eaten anything?

“NestaImagogetsomefood” you informed her while tumbling out of your stool to find something. The world felt like it was tilted on an axis and you were trying with whatever coordination you had to stay upright. Until someone bumped into you and sent you falling backwards.

You knew you hit your head pretty hard when you opened your eyes and saw double of everything. The male that had knocked you down was standing over you trying to get a response. “Imfinejusthelpmeup” he didn’t seem sure of what you were asking of him until you stretched out your hand and he grabbed it, hoisting you to your feet. You clung to his chest because everything was spinning and nothing could ground you. “Ineedfood, takemetothefood.”

You couldn’t see him, but the male who held you was absolutely terrified as a giant winged Ilyrian stalked towards you with a look that promised violence. “Don’t touch her” you felt more hands steady you then strong arms scoop you up and carry you somewhere else.

“Hey stay with me, y/n, we’ll get you something to eat” you knew that voice, you knew his scent and you knew the “we” he was talking about. “PutmedownAzriel.”

“You can’t stand straight.”

A few moments later you were on a plush couch on the first deck of the boat, barely anybody was down here, the party in full swing upstairs. “Here” Azriel gave you some buttered bread and water. Until you saw the clear liquid you had no idea how thirsty you were, chugging it down in one go. Which was a mistake, because next thing you know you are running towards the railings and spilling your guts into the Sidra. Azriel was holding back your hair and rubbing circles on your back. “It’s ok, I’ve got you” he said until you finished.

“Stop it” you said after a while, shrugging off his hand. “Y/n-”

“No, you can go now, I’m fine.”

“You’re not, it’s ok let me help-”

“I don’t want your help.”

“Let’s just go sit down-”

He didn’t get it. To this day he does not understand. “Just leave me alone, I mean it, I'm fine.” Your head was resting on your folded arms against the railing. It was a way to find stillness and hide your tears.

“I found some napkins that maybe-” Azriel took the napkins from Elain and dabbed away the cold sweat that gathered at the base of your neck. It was so tender, so gentle that you bit your lip to keep from screaming.

“There she is.” You sighed as you heard Nesta’s voice. “I’ve got this, you two can go now.” Without looking up you knew she was staring down Azriel and sagged a little when his footsteps drifted away. “Come on, y/n.” She wrapped an arm around your waist and helped you sit on one of the couches. Head rested on her shoulder like you’d done a million times in the last year. “Amren called me pathetic.”

“I think I vomited on a turtle.”

“Safe to say we’ve seen better days.” She nudged you slightly and you chuckled. Better days certainly were behind you.

After you ate the bread and could stand on your own you returned to the bar and drank the night away.

Mornings were always similar, you woke up in a state of undress. Sometimes alone, sometimes with someone else. Then you took a cold bath, the sticky residue of sweat and sex clinging to your skin from the night before. After that you would go to the cafe on your street and get a pastry and then eat it in your apartment with a cup of tea.

It was the best part of your day, before memories you kept buried deep began to flash in your mind. Before the regret of what you had become bubbled to the surface. Before you really looked in the mirror and saw just how bad it had gotten.

The morning after solstice you woke up with a male named Jax. You knew him well enough. He owned the club you and Nesta frequented and he had become a regular night time companion. “Wake up”, you poked him.

“Good morning to you too” he rolls over and places open mouth kisses along your neck and shoulder. “You have go.”

“Let me make you pancakes” he says and bites your earlobe. “No thanks, I have plans to meet someone for breakfast.”

He sighs and stops his ministrations, then gets off the bed and while he dresses asks “are you ever going to let me take you out properly?”

“Probably not,” you answer and walk towards the bathroom.

You hear Jax finish dressing “I’ll see you around.”

“Bye!” You yell and dunk your head under the freezing water, washing away the night before.

“Y/n there's someone here saying they know you” you roll your eyes, wanting him to leave already. “Who?”

“Its me Y/n.” You nearly choke when you heard Azriel’s voice boom through your apartment. Quickly you get out of the bath, put on a robe and go into the living room where Jax and Azriel are sizing each other up. “I know him, Jax, it's ok.” He gave you a look and you motioned for him to leave with your hands then closed the door as he finally left.

“He seems... nice.”

“What do you want, Azriel?” You asked, still standing by the door with your arms crossed at your chest. “I always bring you flowers on our anniversary” you noticed a brown bag and a delicate bouquet in his hands just then. “Oh.”

“And I wanted to talk to you.”

“About?”

“Can we sit down for this?”

You rolled your eyes “is it going to take a while? I have somewhere to be.”

“I brought you breakfast.” You sigh and grab the brown bag from his hands “you can talk while I make tea.”

“How are you?” He asked while scanning your apartment. There was a wet trail from where you walked, clothes strewn about the whole place, a broken frame hanging from the wall and the curtains you typically kept open to allow for sunshine were closed shut.

“We can skip pleasantries. What do you want?” You were focused on your tea, pouring water into the kettle and waiting for it to boil. “I wanted to check on you. We haven’t spoken in months and yesterday you looked… like you were having a rough time.”

“I’m fine, just drank too much.”

“Why have you been avoiding me?”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Y/n.”

You say nothing as you look for the leaves to make your favorite tea.

“Y/n.”

“What?”

“Let me help you, please I can’t stand to see you like this”

You look at him now, curious to see what he’ll say next “like what?”

“You’re drunk everyday, you come home with someone new every night, you stopped working with Madja. I know the war was difficult for you but this isn’t healthy”.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yes I do. I’ve known you for the better part of a century and something changed for you after the war. You never really came back and I’ve given you space and time but- I can help you. Please, just let me help.”

“I want you to go, Azriel.” You make to walk to the door but he steps in your way and places two gentle hands just below your shoulders. “Just talk to me-” You step back and push him away from you.

“You almost died for her! I broke down in front of you and begged you not to die because I can’t survive it and you went into the middle of Hybern’s camp with only Feyre to save her! Then you come back mutilated and I fix you up again and you’re asking why I’m not the same? You go off, you play the hero and then expect me to still be here and I can’t-”

His mouth is slightly agape as he watches you break.

“I can’t close my eyes without seeing you dead. Your blood has coated me from head to toe and I still feel it. If I’m not careful, I see it over and over and it never stops and then you look at me like everything is fine and it’s not. So I drink and I fuck and I get by as best I can and you don’t get to have a say. Leave” you’re holding the door open for him, fighting against the tears in your eyes. He looks like you just stabbed him.

“Y/n-” you curse loudly and slam the door. Then walk into your room and change into the first thing you find “Y/n-” he’s pleading and you feel it pull at your heartstrings. “Stay, leave, I don’t care.” You’re out the door.

“I know it's rotten of me, Nes” you were lying on her mattress while she braided her hair.

“It isn’t.”

“It feels rotten.”

“You are entitled to your anger and hurt. Deal with what you’re feeling however you want, I’ll be here to clean you up if things get messy.”

Your friendship with the oldest Archeron had bloomed unexpectedly after the war. After everything that happened everyone went back to business as usual, except you two.

She had seen Cassian be practically gutted, draped herself over him and was prepared to die. While you were elbow deep in Azriel’s torso trying to get the last piece of ash arrow out. You never spoke of it, the bond of shared trauma. Of insurmountable anger.

How your souls were crumbling and the only thing keeping you alive was each other. She would clean you up, you would break her fall.

Standing from the bed you walk to her and hug her tight, tears pouring down your cheeks “I love you Nesta, I love you so much.” She hugged you back without saying a word but from the way her heart beat stuttered you knew she felt the same.

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poppyswriting · 7 months

Text

𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐯𝐚 𝐛𝐨𝐬𝐬. possible series

summary: You were all on your own taking your ice cream until you heard some screaming and gunshots at the distance on a beach, who would’ve told you that being curious would end you up in hell.

Word count: 2,8k

Warnings: Strong lenguaje, sexual topics and graphic violence will be added (some chapters just not this one) and rampant demon horniness.. Enjoy ! !

Notes: this is a completely non-cannon story, no use of y/n, some of the characters (mostly all them) are not mine! They belong to the show Helluva boss on YouTube! Not to mention this fic was totally inspired by this one shot, so I will base some chapters off of there. Of course giving all credits to the creator, english is not my first lenguaje. (I had a boost of energy and lots of ideas at 2am that made me write this. I saw it now at my drafts so I thought of publishing it, anyways enjoy!!)

*gifs not mine.

Pilot — chapter one

You really didn’t know how you ended up in here.

The only thing you remembered was that you were eating up your ice cream in a bench in peace, then you heard a loud noise and screams. You went to the beach nearby where the screams came from, but when you arrived you saw a giant ass fish being killed by some red Raccoon looking ahh..

After some while you finished eating your ice cream as you watched how the little red raccoons finished killing the fish, you came closer to the group. They were talking to some other people, was that Verosika Mayday? There’s no way… The little Red raccoons opened a portal before Jumping in— Wait, the fuck?

You came closer to the portal to take a better look, no one was looking at you since the other group was being questioned by police officers. But suddenly you felt a hard push that pushed you in the portal, falling off in it.

Oh, so that was how..

Looking around to where you were it seemed like some sort of Parking lot, there were the red Raccoons everywhere, as scared and fucked up you were you took your time to round around and see for yourself where the hell you were.

Oh.

“you got to be fucking kidding me..” you put a hand in your mouth in reflex of your surprise and nervousness when you saw the real big portrait of the side of the road. “666 a new gossip in the News of hell!” what the FUCK???

“Oh I’m gonna throw up—..” You hooded your mouth, fuck that ice cream, it was gonna come out of you anyways.

After throwing up in a random alley over there you sat down in a bench you found walking around. You could hear gunshots in the background but you were used to them since you lived in a kind of dangerous neighborhood since the houses were more cheap around there.

You sighed as you took out your phone, no reception.. Fuck should you buy a hell-phone? But how much money do you have is the question. Suddenly it dawned at you as reality punched you harder than a couch to your toe.

You are in hell, you have no experience here you know nothing about this place, you don’t have a job here nor any type of money. You didn’t know anybody, neither you had a source of money you could rest in for now. You had nothing, absolutely nothing.

You felt like crying, overthinking the worst. What should you do? Fuck it was all so overwhelming. A few sobs fell out of your lips, but you felt a hand over yours. Your head snapped to where the hand came from and you saw an old lady. She had a worried look on her face as well as a confused one.

“Are you alright dear?” She asked, you didn’t know why but she seemed so nice.. And you weren’t thinking that straight since your head was in other places right now.

You told her about your problem, how you ended up here and your frustration about how you would live here because.. Let’s be honest, there was no way you would be getting to earth soon. So you had to make a living out of yourself.

This park was strangely alone at this hour, but all your thoughts went blank when the Lady caressed your hand once more with a worried look on her face, but it was kind in some way.. “You must be so scared..” she whispered, that made you sigh. She was right.

“Let me tell you something, why don’t you stay in my farm. It’s a little far from the city, but that at least when you can find a job of your own honey?” Well, that caught you off guard. Completely.

You should’ve taken this badly, I mean, we’re in hell and this is a total stranger you met twenty minutes ago. Who knows she could maybe sell you or kill you, but what choice did you have? It was that, or be out in the street and taking again that this was hell it would be way more dangerous to stay on the streets alone than in a little farm with this nice lady.

“My children grew up to be now adults, they don’t talk to me anymore and I would love some company. I’m sure my husband would love you too.” Well now that made your heart melt, you were a very sensitive person and to think of her all alone without anyone other than her husband made you sad. And more when she grew apart from her own children.

“Okay, I’ll go with you..” she smiled, holding your hand standing up. But when you stood up you almost drag her to the air, you quickly let go of her hand as she chucked. “Right, I almost forgot”

You chuckled following her lead, looking around at the road as she drove to her home you couldn’t help to wonder how long would you be trapped in here. And who was the person that pushed you over, like why would they even do that?

You snapped out of your thoughts when the car parked in a garage, standing out of the car you saw a man over the porch. Who looked at the both of you with wide eyes and a confused look. Was it really that weird to see a human in hell? Wait, no, scratch that it really was considering you weren’t a sinner neither were you dead. You were just, there.

The woman spoke to the other guy inside the house, while you stood out looking at the field seeing all the types of animals that were there. There were pigs, bunnies, cows, bulls, birds and horses.

Wait, horses? Those horses looked so cool! They had tails with flames and a stiff skin, they are not so different of the horses in the human realm but come on they had flames.

You took several pictures of the horses, meanwhile inside the house it was a heated conversation..

“C’mon Meredith you can’t be serious about this whole letting that human stay here.” He sighed, not so sure about her choice. Taking in all the bad things that could happen if you stayed here “Please honey, she need our help. We can’t just let her be out there in the streets, besides, she could help you out on the farm.”

She was right, her husband needed an extra hand. Taking care of the whole farm by himself was taking a lot of his energy at his old age now, he needed help and it could be good the fact that you could help around. “Meredith, if people were to find out about her what would happen to us?” He looked through the window, both of them looking at you through the window while you took pictures of the horses.

“You know that people would want her. Hunt her, hunt us. You don’t know what type of people would come after her, and if they linked her to us they will come after us.” Meredith sighed, she didn’t thought of this earlier and he was right. But she wanted a little help for her husband, and for both of them to have a little company. Her husband suddenly started to cough, making the woman more worried about his health.

She brought a blanket and put it over her husbands back, as he stopped coughing she hugged his back in comfort. “You know what the doctor said, you need to avoid stress and doing heavy stuff. Just please trust me on this one honey..” She left a kiss on her husbands head, with an annoyed sigh he left her. She wasn’t wrong after all, they could actually use some help around here.

After sitting a while now out in the porch, the woman came out of the house. “What did he say?” You asked, as she smiled at you. “You will stay dear,” a really big grin plastered in your face. Suddenly possibilities didn’t look so imposible anymore. “But I need to tell you something kid, you need to work and help around here ‘Kay?” You nodded quickly without a doubt which made the woman smile.

It’s been a while since you’ve been living in the farm now, nothing that you could complain about tho. The food was amazing, and the animals were super cute and you loved to take care of them whenever you or the couple wanted to. One thing that you loved about living in the farm was that you could ride the horses in your free time. Eventually, you got a Job at horse teaching lessons.

You weren’t afraid of the neighbors, and surprisingly they weren’t afraid of you too. Just really really surprised that you could even exist down there. But hey, no one complained you were a good hand after all. Good kid, they said, after some couple of weeks in the business you could buy yourself a hell-phone as you called them.

It came really handy, when you were in the flower/plants field you could get easy a call from Meredith and go back to the house. Now, it wasn’t easy living with you because you weren’t a demon. The couple had to be super sneaky about you, so when outsiders came to visit the ranch you hid inside the house in your room. Not too much problem, right?

Well, after some months of your staying Meredith’s husband just got worse. With some difficulties to breath and heart problems, it was really a shame. You grew closer to the old man, and it made you sad the way that he was looking right now.

it came to a point were he had to stay in bed all day to rest, you gladly did all the Job in the farm. It wasn’t that difficult for you after all, but you guys were running out of medicine.

“We’re out of medicine for Pops” You looked worriedly at Meredith who was tired from working around in the house and helping out her husband. “Well sweetheart, I can’t really run to the store at this point. I’ll buy medicine tomorrow..” She tried to ease your nerves but that only made them grew.

“No, remember what the doctor said, Pops can’t skip any medicine. He’ll only get worse,” you made a pause as an idea popped to your head, you looked at Meredith with a smile on your face. She knew that you had something in mind “How about, I take a quick run to get medicine for pops?—“

Meredith looked at you in a hint of disapproval, but before she could say anything you spoke “Pleaseee, I swear I’ll be super low-key. And I promise I will come in the blink of an eye!” You begged her, when you had that glint in your eye she knew that you wouldn’t stop until she let you. So that’s what she did, and with a grin plastered all over your face you grabbed the keys, a hoodie and took off but not without screaming a ‘I will come early I swear!’ Before going.

It’s been a while since you were back in the loud city. You wore your hoodie all over your head, a pair of sunglasses and a mask. Driving you found the drug store where Meredith went every time you guys ran out of Medicine. You parked your car beside a huge ass van that has a logo in the center, ‘I.M.P’ Hmm strange.

You didn’t took much mind to it as you went inside the drug store. You went over to the isle four, looking for the little bottle you saw an imp with a big ass white spot in his face walking and looking for some other drug besides you. Not paying too much mind into him you took your fathers Medicine, but before you could go out of the isle you noticed how the imp was staring with wide eyes your hand.

You looked over to see if you had anything wrong and, shit! You forgot to cover your hands in front of him. Your human-skin color was standing out before his eyes before you hid them as fast as you could on your hoodie pockets. It didn’t help the fact that you had a mask and sunglasses in this heat. “Hey kid, what are you—“ You went walking as quickly as you could to the register. Him taking the drug he was looking for and following you.

Going over to the cashier you tapped the medicine in the counter, nervousness running through your whole body like a disease “Hurry up!” You told the cashier as he tapped faster on the register box. But it didn’t last when you suddenly felt a tug on your hoodie.

Ah, there was it.

Your hair slid down from your hoodie, No horns, human skin color and it was more suspicious the fact that you had a whole hoodie, mask and sunglasses in this heat.

“I knew it!” The imp shouted while you in panic grabbed the medicines and ran off. Great way to start in the city, your first time actually doing something and you already fucked it up by robbing a place.

“Wait come back here!” The imp ran after you while the cashier had wide eyes, rambling through the counter he found a phone while typing aggressively into it.

“Hey uh I think, no, I just saw a human..”

…

You were running through the parking lot while the imp chased you down, since you were faster you managed to get into the car fast enough to turn it on and take off. While the imp got into the van that was parked besides your car. “How convenient..” you thought to yourself, pressing the accelerator as fast as the car could take.

Dodging cars in the process, suddenly you took upon a closed hill and with a quick move you parked backwards. Making sure the Van wasn’t anywhere near the hill. Well damn, you still got that after a long time out of earth. Taking off in the complete opposite direction, going as quick as you could to the farm away from the city.

When you arrived to your home Meredith stood up from the couch, was she waiting for you this whole time? That’s so sweet.. “Moon pie are you okay?” She placed her warm hands over your cheeks in a comforting embrace. Which made you smile, nodding you reassured to her everything was okay.

“Look, told ya’ I would get em’ quickly.” You gave her the medicine, earning a smile from her as she walked down to her husband’s room. So you sat in the couch, still thinking about the car chase with that imp. And how it reminded you of your life in earth.

It wasn’t the best, you just.. well, existed. You didn’t exactly had a purpose. you just woke up, got to work, eat and sleep, everyday of your life in repetition. You didn’t exactly had any friends since everyone in the office kind of hated you because of a girl that made up a rumor about you sleeping with your boss.

Which wasn’t true, you told that to everyone but no one believed you. So after a while you got tired of trying, what was even the point if nobody was going to believe you anyways? You didn’t have a good relationship with your parents since they pretty much didn’t have a flying fuck about you unless people praised you.

Your father and your mother weren’t together, and you stayed with your mother. You would often be told to be seen and not heard by her, her saying “Don’t speak unless someone asks you something, in this whole room I don’t need to know you.”

It really didn’t dawn at you how fucked up your life on earth was until now. Meredith was truly your blessing, she was a good woman. You took care of them as well as they both took good care of you, starting to see them as your grandparents by now.

After a few days after the car chase, you were peacefully making breakfast. Some pancakes with fruit, keeping it balanced you then heard Meredith call you from the living room with a loud whisper. Huh? Weird.. You came walking close to her but the tv took all your attention when you saw the local news “real life human has been found at a local drugstore.” Wait, WHAT?!

#helluva boss #helluva blitzo #helluva boss x reader #human!reader #blitzø #cashier backstabbing bitch #hazbin hotel #i should be asleep rn #idk what tags to use #helluva boss blitzo #helluva boss spoilers #helluva boss season 1 #vivziepop

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vampykween · 5 months

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HI MICCC :3 hope you are well!! i’ve been brainrotting about ur singledad!simon and here’s a list of scenarios nd thoughts that’s been plaguing my mind

what if poppy got into a fight at school? the fight was short because you pulled them apart almost instantly - but she still got her hair pulled and a scratch on her cheek, and poppy knows from simon that fighting isn’t the best option, but when simon answers your call and hears poppy’s crying in the background, how would he react!!

the way kids like to overshare and have no filter, i can see poppy casually telling you stuff like “yeah my daddy has no friends” or “daddy doesn’t talk much”.. and then when simon comes to pick her up, maybe you two have a small convo and you accidentally slip up and mention what poppy’s told you about him.. then he looks and poppy and you like 🤨what else did you hear..

Oklfldldg how does simon do father daughter nights! is he the type to play competitively in games with her or does he always let her win? does he like taking her out to eat or does he prefer cooking at home :3

AAAA okay last one i promise:3 how do the other kids react to poppy’s behemoth of a dad? are they scared? do they think he’s a mafia boss of some sort? or do they find him incredibly awesome and think he’s a giant from those action movies

(ofc u don’t have to do all of them if u don’t want to OR if u don’t want to spoil anything for the series, just some thoughts! take ur time<3)

hi bby! i am very well right now actually and this made things even better, i could kiss your brain truly mwah <3

i will be saving these ideas because this gave me much needed inspiration and motivation for this series. also sorry if i didnt go as in depth with these, but the longer they sat in my drafts i realized i was never going to remember to finish oops! also i hope you dont mind i will be stealing the oversharing poppy idea if fits perfectly with what i have going for part 3 hehe

✴︎ I feel like simon would be fuming, at whom he’s not even sure. I imagine that some kid said something rude and snarky to her and she couldn’t take it anymore and popped on them, and you’re shocked because poppy is normally such a sweet little girl. Simon would definitely hug poppy close because seeing his baby hurt cuts like a knife, takes her out for ice cream and then chides her because omg! has she lost her mind fighting at school, but also he’s a tiny bit proud she’s a fighter like him.

✴︎No because Poppy would most definitely do this, in her head she’s just rattling off mundane things about her father, but you’re sporting a frown because there’s a tiny part of you that hates the idea of Simon being alone with just poppy. Not that it’s any of your business though (you would definitely have to remind yourself of that).

Simon is groaning at his daughter’s perceptive nature and how willing she is to share every thought she has. When you waved him over to where you were during school pick up, Simon was praying something bad hadn't happened. “Mr. Riley, err Simon, sorry.” you correct yourself quickly at the raised eyebrow look he gives you. “Is everything okay… like at home?” you’re mentally face palming at the way you blurted out the very intrusive question. You sense his shock by the question by the almost imperceptible widening of his eyes. “Why-” he looks down at Poppy who’s swinging her tiny hand in his, not paying any attention to the conversation you two are having, “What did she say to you?” You wring your hands nervously, the older man’s deadpan stare makes you feel like you’re in trouble for some reason. “Poppy mentioned to me that you don't have any friends or talk much to anybody. I don't mean to pry, really I swear. Kids will tell you anything, i'm sure you know. After what happened with the family tree thing and-” You're cut off by Simon’s large hand settling on your shoulder, clearly an attempt to calm you down and halt your rambling, but it has the opposite effect and all you can think about is how enormous his hands are and the weight of it grasping you. “No need to apologize, Poppy talks my ear off about you. I’d be surprised if she didn’t talk to you about things. And you don't need to worry about me, luv. Im fine being alone, i've got my little petal and that’s enough f’me.” There’s an aura of wistfulness in his words, that makes you want to push him for a more truthful answer, but you chide yourself at your thoughts. You barely know this man. Whatever longing you think is in his voice may as well be a projection of your own sadness; a failed long term relationship will do that to a person.

✴︎Definitely loves to play games but does not let Poppy win because he wants her to learn how to lose and be okay with it. (You would applaud this btw, this is every teachers’ dream. Trust me on that). Their father-daughter nights also will be movie nights with as many sweets as poppy desires because Simon won't bend to anything but her little puppy dog eyes. I feel like even though he’s not the best cook ever Simon would go out of his way to cook Poppy’s favorites for her. Especially like on a saturday morning and wakes her up with breakfast in bed because why not spoil his little girl if he can.

✴︎I think it's a mix of both really. I imagine Poppy goes to some nice fancy school because why not lol. And some of Poppy's classmates have snooty rich parents who turn their noses up at Simon so their kids are kinda wary of him too. I think Poppy would hype up her dad so much at recess time. Telling stories of how he used to be a ‘super cool soldier’ and all the other kids would be staring in awe like omg your dad is so cool, my dad just does people’s taxes lol.

#mic answers #second chances au #oc: poppy #i lied please bless me with the motivation to actually finish the parts for this series...#i have too many half started drafts ughhhhh

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lorillee · 2 months

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Hi how would you accomodate Obito's character to match, as you said, the fake ideal Kakashi has of him in his memory at the beginning of the series (if you want their relationship to go that way, which is 1000% more interesting than what the manga gave us) ? Like, if Kakashi has a fake idea of Obito in his head, Obito must have been at least something remotely heroic in the past, no ? Also, in this configuration do you think Adult Obito should be acknowledged as 100% Creepy in the story to contrast Kakashi's memories, and how ?

i fear that i may have opened a giant can of naruto discourse worms but since i actually have opinions on this i might as well share. its not really changing obito's character in any form its just genuinely how i read this relationship because thats the way it makes the most sense to me.

obito was genuinely just some kid who had a good heart but was a little annoying and wasnt terribly punctual or collected and was more than happy to mildly buck his responsibilities and the expectations people had of him to help people out which isnt inherently bad but also easily lends itself to endangering the mission/task at hand and as a result baby kakashi thought he was annoying and stupid and a spoiled brat who doesnt know what the real world looks like. they were literally not even anywhere close to friends until like the 5 minutes before obito epicly dies by which i mean. and this is like so so so tremendously important to understanding my view of this relationship. kakashi barely knew obito at all, and he didnt know him because up until those last 5 minutes he barely even respected him as a person and therefore had absolutely no vested interest in learning. this, combined with the fact that obito was . again. just some kid who was trying his best but wasnt like outstanding is absolutely crucial because its directly because of kakashi's growing insane survivors guilt complex that his perception of obito goes from "kid with a good heart who did the right thing when i did not" -> "paragon of justice and morality and everything that i am not".

like kakashi as a guy is somebody who very consistently takes far more responsibility for bad things that happen than is deserved - if kakashi and obito had gone to save rin earlier it literally would not have made a difference, but because kakashi knows he made the wrong decision in trying not to save her at first he blames himself for obito's death nonetheless. as rin dies by his own hand (both thereby being "his fault" + violating the deathbed promise he made to the last person he got killed) and then minato kicks the bucket not too long after, kakashi's survivors guilt complex balloons into something genuinely kind of deranged. like seriously kakashi really truly does hate himself so so so much and its a bit dire. he blames solely himself for things that are not entirely or even mostly his fault and at multiple points in the final arc literally talks about how prepared he is to die and when he's saved is caught entirely off-guard and immediately starts talking about how worthless he is (GUY WHO WANTS TO DIE SO BAD ITS CONCERNING) and asking why obito bothered moving kaguya's attack and when anybody ever tries to give him credit for the positive things he did contribute he immediately moves to give it to somebody else and minimize his own impact.

with this in mind you can kind of see what happened with obito - while kakashi is a tremendously skilled ninja on his own, it was the sharigan that ultimately became the centerpoint of his abilities - the sharigan that obito gave him. with this comes the ability to attribute all the good he's done for the village/people in it to obito while bolstering his already preconceived notion that it wasnt obito who shouldve died back then but him because if it were obito he wouldve been able to do everything that kakashi has done except he also has the added bonus of being fundamentally a better person who wouldve made the right choices who wouldve been a good leader who wouldve saved rin who wouldve saved everybody who was the one out of the two of them who truly understood sakumo's will and would have always always always succeeded where kakashi has failed time and time again but because hes dead because kakashi got him killed the best he can do is try. and he cant move on he cant ever move on because this eye of obitos is always always always there and he'll never be able to forgive himself because he's failed in every way he could have and would never deserve it. by the time the main series rolls around obito really isnt a person in kakashis mind but a very prominent focal point to project his insane deranged guilt complex onto and then feel miserable about because he has serious mental issues. like its truly not about obito as the guy he actually was because kakashi barely even knew him at all, its that because so so so many of kakashi's biggest achievements and regrets in life are tied back to obito's death its just entirely inescapable and especially so for somebody as riddled with guilt and self-hatred and responsibility as kakashi.

like people like to pretend this relationship is romantic but if im being honest. that is objectively 1)stupid but also more importantly 2) BORINGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG ITS SO BORING ITS SO BORINGGGGGGGGG when your other option is kakashis deranged mental scape projection bag turning out to be an actual real person who shouldnt have been put on this massive pedastal, causing kakashis entire life and meaning up to this point to come crumbling down because it turns out obito's been spiraling off the path that kakashi has been obsessing over for years except in the end this too is kakashis fault because its always kakashis fault and worse yet its not even him who convinces obito to turn around because no matter how hard kakashi tries he'll never ever ever ever be good enough he'll never be able to fix his mistakes he'll never be able to be forgiven and he'll never be able to forgive himself.

also side note while i find obito's fixation on rin to be insanely annoying and notably weird and definitely in poor taste, intentionally making it creepy is doing nobody ANY favors and i would decidedly not want that in any direction. the contrasts between what kakashi remembers and what obito has turned into have to do with selflessness and maturity and the consistent choice to do the right thing into assisting in the murder of thousands of people for an incredibly childish and selfish pipe dream - imo intentionally focusing on how its frankly a bit weird for a guy pushing 30 to still be hung up on a girl he knew when he was 12 is detracting from the main point and serves no narrative purpose and what id much rather do instead is chop the romantic beat entirely because that would do wonders for his entire character in making him at the very least less annoying.

also also the way this ask is worded is a bit weird imo like its not like obito started out being a terrible person and if he was all along then itd kind of suck and also defeat like 100% of the point. like i would definitely say throwing yourself into a pack of overwhelming enemies to save a friend falls into the heroic category, and, while him giving kakashi the eyeball is absolutely horrifying and appalling and 57 different levels of messed up, from kakashi's pov<- authors note interruption: originally i was typing this up in the tags but then it became too long i have to give my opinion on the eyeball scene. i have to. we're side tangenting here but okay like because the thing about naruto the series and kishimoto and their respective politics is theyre kind of at odds with each other and a solid 50% of the things kishimoto says in naruto i think he like doesnt actually agree with or is alternatively too scared to commit to so im not really sure how exactly we're supposed to interpret obito giving kakashi his eye. and im aware to some extent that the shippers are like omg….. sooooo romantic while throwing on the veneer of omg child soldiers…. so horrible……. <- purely for the ~angst~ factor but. My Opinion. and we're back at it again with the mildly edited "discord messages from when i was watching" copy-pasting:

frankly imo if you make the focus of this scene on literally anything other than how horrifying the system is 1) you kind of suck and 2) youre tremendously dumb. because like there are so many tremendously bad implications going on here between the fact that kakashi who is clearly 13-14 max despite what his voice will have you believe is a JONIN without ANY of the necessary leadership or experience skills was sent with two other twelve year olds on their own with NO adult supervision (!!) on a mission to blow up a bridge in the middle of a war (!!!) and that when one of them got half crushed by a rock his only thought was to get one of the other children to TAKE OUT HIS EYEBALL WHILE HE WAS STILL CONSCIOUS (!!!!!!!) AND STICK IT INTO ANOTHER CHILD’S EYESOCKET (!!!!!!!!!!) WHICH STILL CURRENTLY HAS AN EYEBALL IN IT EVEN IF ITS NO LONGER FUNCTIONING MEANING SHE WILL HAVE TO GRUESOMELY SCOOP OUT THE REMAINS BEFORE SHE CAN PUT THE OTHER GUYS EYEBALL IN IT (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) AND NONE OF THE CHILDREN INVOLVED HAVE ANY PROBLEMS WITH THIS (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) this is NOT romantic this is horrifying the fact that a child had to do an EYEBALL TRANSPLANT on TWO CONSCIOUS PATIENTS in a BATTLE FIELD because konoha lost a sufficient amount of adults that they decided that in order to win the war they were okay with putting CHILDREN in horrifying situations and nobody DID anything about it !!!!!!!!!!!!! and the fact that these children are so completely desensitized to this idea that again obitos first thought is "yeah here let me give you my eyeball so you can fight" IS SERIOUSLY SO BAD LIKE HELLO.HELLO. HELLO?!??!?!?!?!?!?! THE KONOHA WAR MACHINE SITUATION IS DIRE.

^in the whole context of this i was complaining about shippers but the same sort of sentiment still applies to glorifying this in any manner. like as an outsider looking into this fictional world i can very easily go "wow! this is horrifying! this is not heroic this is tremendously messed up and a society that has allowed this to happen needs to kind of be razed to the ground."HOWEVER. this does not mean that kakashi himself does not see this as something indescribably heroic and in fact he would have an incredibly hard time seeing it otherwise given The Mental Illness and also his entire childhood and way of life from birth. like if we're being honest im always thinking about the scene where iruka and kakashi are arguing over whether or not team 7 is prepared to take the chunin exam because iruka rightly points out that theyre very young and inexperienced with the implication that given people older than them have literally actually died in these exams they really should not be doing this and kakashi responds that he was six years younger than naruto when he became a chunin as a justification and its just so insanely illuminating to his perspective on a lot of this because its been so insanely twisted by having literally grown up on the battlefield and then after that joining anbu bc from his perspective theyre twice as old as he was with the added bonus of it being peacetime so its literally fine even though for the viewers it is decidedly not.

and like in some instances he does recognize how badly the ninja system has screwed over everybody personally (see: when sasuke fights all of them after killing danzo and kakashi notes that sasuke is absolutely a product of his environment) but in other cases hes just so completely blinded by having been intrenched in war and child soldiering from birth that its very very hard to be able to take a step back and look at it objectively (and especially for somebody like kakashi who if he genuinely acknowledged this might also have to confront the fact that if child soldiers absolutely 100000% should not exist in any situation ever several of the things he blames himself most for in his past would really not be much of his fault as the adults who put him in those situations in the first place. which he would rather kill himself than do). also real quick id like to take a moment to share this parallel because it SERIOUSLY makes me deranged IM OBSESSED WITH ITTTTTTTT

^ and added commentary from cartoonrival who put anything i couldve said about this into a single line

so while as viewers we ought to think the entire eyeball scene is genuinely horrifying and, in the words of my dear friend goosewhisker, "a commentary on how [the ninja] system feeds on the corpses of the people who protect it", kakashi absolutely views this as something to be aspired to and incredibly heroic because hes messed up in the head a bit as a result of growing up under the konoha war machine and if you were to go "well actually obito sucked all along" it would literally only be undermining the point the story is trying to make imo. anyways this has gotten severely derailed but this is has been my thesis on kakashis relationship with/at obito and if youve stuck around this long.well thank you for reading

#ask #anon #lorillee.txt #hatake kakashi #2.2 thousand words.......... sorryeverybody. but you know how it is with me and kakashi #and also obito but in an incredibly negative direction #it is nice to have extensive thoughts again though #this is why i need to get into more ''insanely written but compelling despite itself'' media

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vorish-wonderland · 1 year

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Hi! Rook is so dramatic and loves hunting, so I think he’d be a great pred. How about something where Rook hunts down tiny Epel? Maybe with intentional or unintentional fearplay (Epel misunderstanding Rook/thinking he isn’t safe)? Could be Beansday themed or not?

beansday? you mean the perfect scenario for smth like this? oh, that I can do...

Includes: soft/safe vore, unwilling prey, fearplay

✮✶The Hunter Hungers✶✮

☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ

Epel realized what had just happened.

Someone... did someone just use magic on him?!

"But... I thought they said..." Epel said to himself, a hand on his forehead. "I guess I just gotta... keep going." He sighed. He looked around, and then realized something. "That's weird... that tree looks a lot... bigger than before..."

Epel stood up, and re-assessed the size of the tree.

"Huh. That tree is definitely bigger than before..." Epel said to himself, before looking around more. "...all of the trees are bigger than before... and so's that mushroom, and..."

That's when it clicked in Epel's head.

"SOMEONE SHRUNK ME!"

Epel decided to find somewhere to hide while he could try to figure out what to do from here...

But little did he know, a certain someone on the monster team had already seen him.

Epel tried to think of what he could do... nothing really came to mind.

Suddenly, a shadow loomed above him.

"Seven dammit..." Epel whispered to himself.

"Bonjour, bonjour Monsieur Pommette! Are you enjoying Beansday so far~?"

Epel flinched the moment he heard that voice. Oh, anybody but him, please...

"Though you seem to be much smaller than I remember... what could have happened to you?" Rook asked as he grabbed Epel. "You do know that magic is forbidden, don't you?"

"It wasn't me! I dunno who did it but somebody shrunk me, and now I'm stuck like this!" Epel yelled. "Now can ya put me down?!"

"And why would I do that? The monsters have to capture the famers, correct? Monsieur Pommete... are you aware of what team you are on?"

"...FINE! Sure. You captured me. Good. Can you let me go now so I can go to the gym?"

"At that size?" Rook asked. "Oh no... no no, I simply cannot let that happen." Rook smiled in a way that made Epel weary of what was to come. "Perhaps... I should keep you somewhere safe until the end of Beansday?"

"What... are you talking about?"

"I do enjoy apples. Do you taste like one?" Rook asked. "I wonder why some people have the desire to eat others... why do some humans have predator instincts while some don't? It makes no sense. It makes sense for beastmen and merfolk, and perhaps even fae, but there's seemingly no reason for humans to have these instincts. But perhaps I'm wrong... maybe there is a reason for some humans to be predators, but whatever the reason is we'll never know." Rook contently sighed. "Such is le beau mystère de l'humanité."

"I've got a mister de whatever for ya! Why do you always talk like this? Why do you never drop the act for anythi-"

Epel was suddenly dropped.

Dropped, straight into Rook's open mouth.

"WHAT THE FU-"

"Language, Monsieur Pommette~!"

Rook placed a hand on his neck, and then swallowed the shrunken Epel.

"Ah! How wonderful! What a delightful flavour you were, Monsieur Pommette~!" He sighed contently. "And now, the poor little farmer is stuck in the stomach of a giant monster! Mon dieu, whatever can the farmer do~?"

Rook grabbed his capture weapon once more, and continued on his way.

"ROOK!" Epel yelled, punching the slimy squishy walls. "ROOK, GET ME OUT! I'LL TELL VIL IF YOU DON'T!"

"Vil? I'm not sure how you think you can tell Vil from your current position~" Rook laughed. "I apologize, but I'm not letting you out, Monsieur Pommette... though, struggle all you'd like. Perhaps if you struggle enough I'll decide to let you out? But do remember you have... limited time."

...

No, there's no way Rook really means that...

Right...?

"Rook, you're not going to kill me, are you?!"

"Who's to say~?"

Epel bit into the lining of his upperclassman's stomach.

"...that doesn't hurt as much as you probably think it does, Monsieur Pommette." Rook said, feeling almost slightly embarrassed for Epel.

Epel didn't stop struggling for even a single second. For all of twenty minutes, Epel kept struggling against Rook.

"Hm... you're good at fighting, I'll give you that, but... unfortunately, your time is up in there."

"What?! This ain't fair! It ain't fair at all!!" Epel yelled. "You're gonna kill me because someone messed with me?!"

"Huh? Whenever did I say I was going to kill you?" Rook asked. "No, your time in there is up because we've reached the gym!"

"...what?"

"At that size, there was no way you'd be able to make it to the gym unharmed. I was simply giving you a ride!"

Epel couldn't think of anything to say.

"Je suis désolé, Monsieur Pommette."

#i have wanted to do smth with pred Rook for a while so thanks for this #safe vore #soft vore #twst vore #twisted wonderland vore #gt vore #rook hunt #epel felmier #v.ore #v/ore

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warpfive · 1 year

Text

CAPTAINS + UNTIMELY 'I LOVE YOU'S

awkward moments when the captains confessed their love for you

CW: gn! reader, mentions of peril

CREW: chris pike, jean-luc picard, kathryn janeway, benjamin sisko, jonathan archer

CHRIS - 100% the type of guy to say “i love you” before leaving for his shift in the morning and doesn’t realize it until he’s halfway to the bridge and it would be too awkward to go back to your quarters. feels kinda embarrassed because i think chris would’ve wanted to tell you over a nice dinner or overlooking a beautiful nebula or even just laying in bed with you tucked up against his chest. he tries to make excuses to see you during the day, but it never really works out - a spacial anomaly knocked out half a dozen systems and chris has been yanked this way and that and the one he did see you was in engineering and your face was smeared with something and it really reminded him that he did mean what he said, even if the timing wasn’t great. later that night, you’re both exhausted and unable to move. still, you turn over, sigh against his shoulder, and tell him you loved him too. chris started a tradition of saying “i love you” every morning, and you say it every night.

JEAN-LUC - he tries to insist to you that merely saying the words “i love you” while reciting a poem didn’t count, but you think otherwise. because you really, really wanted that time to be the first - it was a remarkably quiet night after a nice dinner. your head rested in his lap, eyes drooping, almost asleep - and jean-luc’s voice definitely didn’t help. he was reading out loud some poetry you can’t remember the title of but it didn’t matter because his voice was low and soothing, acting like an audible tranquilizer. one hand held the book, the other in his lap, massaging his fingers through your hair, and he said it. the words were part of the poem, he must’ve read the line a million times, but in that specific moment, it just meant so much more. you turn over on your back, smile up at him, and tell him you loved him too. jean-luc sputtered, trying to explain that it was simply the poem, but you didn’t care. he could use some spontaneity that didn’t endanger his life - he was also much too enamored by your wide, sleepy smile to argue any more.

KATHRYN - she hadn’t talked to anybody after the day’s events - not the doctor, not chakotay, not even you. kathryn’s isolation wasn’t a new phenomena and you weren’t just some officer who had to let the ship’s captain bottle everything up under threat of court martial. it wasn’t any surprise that she retreated into one of the holodecks - her da vinci program, the one you knew she used when reality was too difficult and she needed to get back to basics. to ground herself. it was dark when you entered, lit only by flickering candlelight and a half-moon. it was a relief to hear her voice, flat and muted as it was. and with your curiosity and worry sated, you debated on leaving kathryn alone for a couple hours. but she said your name, and holo-da vinci responded in a way that made you realize she’s talked about you before. kathryn told him about the day’s events - the danger you were in, and how scared she was, even if she couldn’t show it in front of her crew. how much she’s come to love you, deeply, frighteningly. and when you accidentally knocked over one of the hologram’s little sculptures and kathryn saw your figure illuminated by the candlelight, she wasn’t even angry. no, her grin was too wide to force a frown, and her heart too malleable to make it mad. it’s safe to say that the holodeck wasn’t available for the next few hours.

BENJAMIN - ben’s stubbornness was a trait that was easy to overlook in light of all the other wonderful things about him - his compassion, courage, empathy, love. but that giant bull of a personality trait did love to rear its head during some of the most stressful times and there wasn’t a damn thing either of you could do about it once the argument started. you’d keep pressing your own thoughts about the recon mission into dominion space, wanting him to understand - he would, but ben just gets so set in his ways when he thinks he’s right about something. it’s too dangerous, he says. not worth the risk, not when you’re more useful on the station. you want to come along, he says no, you keep asking him why, your argument turns into a yelling match. benjamin says he loves you too much to lose you to a firefight, he can't go through something like that again. the room is dead quiet, and again, he’s much too stubborn to try and backpedal. the argument is over when you concede to his original plan, but not before hugging him so tight, you can’t hardly breathe. well, that’s probably how he would’ve felt if you’d gone on the mission, so it’s only fair.

JONATHAN - it was late (early?), neither of you due for your shifts for another few hours, and porthos had decided to sleep right between you and jon. you didn’t mind all that much, perfectly content to snuggle up to the beagle while intertwining your legs with jon’s, just to keep in contact. but it seemed the captain wasn’t as forgiving, viewing porthos’ obstruction as purposeful - maybe he was jealous of jon giving you more and more attention, rather than him. you awoke to his soft words, barely above a whisper, and the light thudding of a tail against the sheets. for a moment, you were tempted to roll over and tease him for talking to his dog, but something held you back. is it eavesdropping if you’re in the same bed and a dog is involved? jon is half-asleep, you could tell by his voice, when he scolds porthos for acting out. he says he loves him a lot, but he also loves you, and porthos is just going to have to get used to sharing him. it was so calm, so matter-of-fact, that even when jon fell back asleep, you were kept awake by the echo of his words in your head. and you were sure to sneak porthos a treat in the morning.

#star trek x reader #star trek headcanons #chris pike x reader #jean luc picard x reader #kathryn janeway x reader #benjamin sisko x reader #jonathan archer x reader

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bagog · 3 months

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Pine-car Derby Meet cute

The gymnasium was packed with chairs all facing one of the two pine-car derby tracks underneath the basketball hoops. They were only a few races into the derby, and even the last couple entrants were still having their cars weighed and assessed before being queued up for the bracket.

“I’m gonna get some gum,” Travis shoved a shoe-box full of sand-paper, powdered graphite, and spare wheels into his older brother’s arms. “Come get me if my car’s up?”

“You’re not until the seventh heat, dude.” Trevor hoisted the box under his arm and gave his brother a light slap on the shoulder. “And you better not be there till then.”

“Can I have money?”

“Oh, yeah, here you go.” Trevor had purposely cashed-out his whole paycheck from the University Library to fund this trip… and it’s concessions. “Buy something better than gum, yeah?” The twelve year old didn’t reply as he turned on his heel and hurtled for the concession window on the other side of the gym.

Trevor surveyed the situation. The seats closest to the track were taken, but he didn’t really care about anybody’s car but Travis’, so no need to be close. He scanned the open seats for just a moment before selecting exactly where to set down.

“You’re not saving this whole row for a big family or something?” Trevor said, settling into an empty row right behind the cute guy who was sitting by himself. The guy turned around.

“Only seat I’m saving is this one,” he gestured to the folding chair on his left, where sat a beat-up shoebox like the one Trevor was carrying under his arm.

“Who’s racing?”

“My nephew. You?”

“Little brother,” Trevor held out his hand. “I’m Trevor, by the way.”

“Ephraim.” The guy shook his hand with a firm grip… soft hands though. “It’s my first derby, what should I be expecting?”

“I used to do these when I was a kid, can’t imagine they’d changed much,” Trevor leaned forward conspiratorily. “It’ll take about three hours to do all the brackets, but you can tell exactly which cars are gonna end up in the finals, because they’re just the lazy wedges.” He pointed to a shiny green wedge on wheels that had just flown down the race track, leaving its competition behind.

“Don’t tell my nephew,” Ephraim winced, playfully. “He didn’t make a wedge.”

“Good for him, I say.” The two laughed and managed to make breezy small talk. Ephraim was at State for piano performance. Trevor played intra-mural lacrosse. Derbies past and all the rest.

“Trevor,” Trevor turned and saw Travis running up with a fist full of dollar bills and a mouth full of Double-Bubble. Behind him, a kid just a little younger trailed after, concentrating on sinking his teeth into a giant soft pretzel. “Aww man,” Travis rolled his eyes when he spotted Trevor, turned to his friend. “My brother’s hitting on some dude again. C’mon, let’s go find Matthew.” The two kids ran off towards the door to the gym.

“Well well well,” Ephraim smirked under bushy brows. “Do you regularly, uh, cruise the pine-car derby?”

“My brother’s full of it,” Trevor awkwardly rubbed his palms over the seam down the side of his jeans. “He can’t see that you’re clearly more impressive than ‘some dude’.”

“Wow,” Ephraim intoned dryly, but his lip curled into a smile. “Very smooth. You’ve known me for five minutes and you think you can tell that, huh?”

“I could tell that before I sat down,” Trevor blurted. He managed to hold eye contact and grin.

“Well,” Ephraim seemed to think it over playfully. “Your brother was hanging out with my nephew, so I can get any info I need to hold over your head later.”

“I’m honored you would think to threaten me so soon into meeting me!”

“Oh shut up and come sit next to me.”

#character sketch #original characters #de facto love february #meet cute #gay romance #I need to get better at writing the beginning of relationships #i usually like to come in once they've been together #practice practice practice #came right against the time limit for this one so it's pretty abrupt

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myownau · 10 months

Text

We’re a Family

Summary: part 2 of Alone Tonight. Robin returns from Europe

The Party has one last get together before the baby arrives

And the happy couple have a baby break.

Authors Note: When I wrote ‘Alone Tonight’ I intended for it to be a one shot. But to be embarrassingly honest, I realized after I posted it that I had totally forgotten about Robin! How could I forget about Steve’s platonic soulmate???

So this story was written to rectify that, and then for some reason I just didn’t stooop typing. So please enjoy this part 2! There will almost definitely not be any more parts. The end is wrapped up pretty completely so if there’s ever another part (don’t get your hopes up) it’ll just be a bonus story like the one at the very end. Haha.

The Ao3 link is pinned on page if you’d rather read it there or want to follow the series IF I ever do write more for this universe lol!

I also just want to say THANK YOU SO MUCH for all the positive feedback, the likes, and the reblogs. It means so much to me. I am so grateful to you all. I love this fandom. ❤️

“Are you sure I look okay?” You’re stood by the front door, wearing your favorite casual maternity dress. Bright yellow sunflowers adorning every inch of the soft fabric.

Steve comes out from the kitchen and looks you up and down with the biggest smile on his face. “Baby, stop it, you look gorgeous. It’s taking everything in me not to ravish you right here and now.”

You grab his arms and pull him as close as you can get with your giant baby bump pressed between you. “I’m serious Stevie. I’m so nervous.”

He pulls back and looks into your eyes, cupping your face with both hands, “What is there to be nervous about, Sweetheart? She’s going to love you.”

“But what if she doesn’t? What if she hates me. I know how close you two are, I know you’ll leave me if she doesn’t give me the seal of approval.”

Steve huffs a laugh. He leans in and kisses your nose. Your face scrunches up in a deep frown. “Luckily, you won’t have to worry about that, because she’s. going. to. love. you.” He kisses you softly on the lips, just a sweet bit of reassurance. “Plus, she practically loves you already. She would’ve protested the wedding if she didn’t.”

“Prot- what do you mean?”

“Well, I mean it’s not like I haven’t talked to her the whole time she’s been away. I wrote to her about you like 10 times just in the first week we met. And like you said about approval and all that… I mean we wouldn’t have been engaged, let alone married without her giving the okay.”

You playfully slap him in the arm, “what the heck Steven.”

“Oh come on, not my government name.”

You sigh deeply, “Alright well, I guess I feel a little bit better then.” You think for a moment in silence, “wait, you didn’t tell her about the whole reason we spent the night together did you?”

He grimaces, eyes scrunched up tight, “I mean I didn’t not tell her.”

“Oh my gosh-“ you grab the doorknob and charge out of the front door, “you swore you wouldn’t tell anyone.” You’re whining all the way down to the car, Steve following close behind you.

“I know baby, but Robins not just anybody.” Before you can get in the car he grabs you from behind and pulls you close to his chest. “She’s my platonic soulmate. I pretty much have to tell her everything ever or else one of us will die.”

“Mmm” you purse your lips “that’s a little over dramatic. But. It’s already out there so. As long as she doesn’t like blab to anyone else about it, or brings it up at all really, I think we’ll be okay.”

He kisses the top of your head and let’s go of you so he can open the door for you. The laugh that leaves his mouth is a little uneasy. “Yeah yeah, should be fine.”

—

The diner is fairly empty for a Friday night. You can’t help but smile as you remember the first time Steve brought you here. It was your first official date, just a couple days after what was meant to be a one night stand. He’d called the Byers-Hopper residence asking for you, when Will answered the phone. He’d wiggled his eyebrows at you as he handed you the phone, a little smirk on his face. That very night he’d brought you here and the rest was history.

“What’re you thinking of getting this time?” Steve asked, flipping through the greasy menu.

“Well,” you sighed, rubbing your stomach in wide circles, “Eddie really wants a strawberry milkshake. And a greasy bacon cheese burger. And fries. And mozzarella sticks. And a pickle. And-“

“Geez, sweetheart. Eddie wants a lot tonight huh?” He laughed, patting your leg under the table.

“I’ll be happy when these pregnancy cravings are gone. And when I’m, yanno, not pregnant anymore.”

He looks up at you, concern in his eyes. “I thought you liked being pregnant?”

“I do baby, I do. But once you hit 8 months it’s like. A lot. He’s so heavy, and my crotch hurts like all the time. And I can’t breath. And I feel like my stomachs going to explode sometimes. And Eddie keeps like kicking me… like for real, I thought he broke a rib last week.” You take a deep breath, “it’s just like a lot now, we’re so close to the finish line I’m just ready to evict the tenant yanno?”

“I’m sorry my love,” he kisses your cheek tenderly, “if I could do the last month for you I would.”

“I know you would, handsome. You’re so good to me.” You close the gap between your faces and kiss him deeply. He puts his arm around you to bring you closer to him in the tight booth.

“Gross.” You hear from behind you.

“Robin!” Steve exclaims. You scoot out of the booth as quickly as you can, Steve helping you with a hand on your lower back.

“Um, hi, Robin” you put your hand out to shake hers, “it’s so nice to meet you, I’ve heard so much about you!” Robin slaps your hand out of the way and brings you in for, what would be a crushing hug, if not for your belly.

“Not as much as I’ve heard about you, probably heard way too much about you honestly. But that’s okay because you make Dingus happy and that makes me happy. Seriously, very cool to meet you. Geez you’re huge.” Robin, you learn, is a rambler. Which you instantly love because you can be too. “How far along are you now?”

“8 months. Ready to pop this baby out already.”

“Bet Steve hasn’t been able to keep his hands off of you.” Robin smirks.

“You have no idea” you bit your lip, rubbing your tummy, “thought our sex life was wild before-”

“Gross,” she laughs lightly and clears her throat. “And you’re uh, you’re really naming him Eddie?” She asks, eyes a bit glossy.

“Yeah,” you smile down at your tummy, “Edward William”

“William? After Will?”

“Not- not exactly. Well, I mean yes and no.”

“Oh no, please tell me that’s not because of Billy?” She looks up at Steve who in turn puts his hands up in a defensive position and shrugs.

“Yeah. Well. I mean, I heard what a douche he was but- I’ve also heard about yanno- all the stuff that happened to you guys and- well he saved my sisters life.” You pause and look over at Steve and then back to Robins curious eyes. “I never even would’ve met Jane if not for Billy. And from what it sounds like, this whole town and even the world wouldn’t have made it without Jane so. Domino effect and all that. Felt like- well it felt like he deserved a bit of a tribute too, yanno?”

“Yeah, yeah you’re right.” She pats your arm. When she turns to look at Steve it seems like he can’t take it anymore, he’s bursting at the seems to be close to his platonic soulmate. He moves in on Robin in an instant and swoops her up in his arms, spinning her around in a bear hug. “Missed you, can’t believe you left me all alone for 5 years. Come on and sit. Tell us about Europe.”

“Well it’s not like I left to just travel the world without reason. I was studying abroad!” She scoots into the booth across from you, ”Education and all that.”

“Whatever man, there’s colleges here, you abandoned me but that’s fine. Yanno, whatever, missed my wedding but that’s fine I guess.”

“Shut up” she laughed “at least I’ll be here for the birth of your child. I know that’s most important to you. Six little nuggets.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” He smiles over at you. “Okay, enough about us, let’s hear about all the trouble you got up to.”

“Alright alright fine… so, it’s one of my first nights in Paris and as I’m walking by this cafe I notice this girl staring at me from the balcony-“

—

Jonathan and Nancy’s house was the new hub for the Party. With everyone having moved out of their respective childhood homes, and some having moved out of Hawkins completely. It made sense that their house was the best meeting place, when everyone was back in town.

Plus, it was bigger than yours and Steve’s small 2 bedroom starter home. Not that you didn’t have the money for something bigger. You were a renowned artist in Indiana at this point, selling several Photobooks and even having gallery events every couple of years where large canvases of your photos were sold to the elite of the state and elsewhere. You two were just, saving up. Steve really did want 6 little nuggets. And you were happy to have them, but you both wanted to make sure your future home was large enough to house such a large brood.

The Byers home was fairly large, not too big but the living room was definitely sizable. Looking around the Party, you think they might have purchased this particular house with them in mind. It was unbelievably sweet how close everyone was, it made you feel so warm. Especially to see how welcoming they had been of you too.

In fact, this whole gathering was technically, for you. Well, for you and Steve and the birth of your son. One last movie night before babysitters and extra planning would have to be involved. As well as the fact that Dustin and Suzie had flown in from Utah, specifically to be here for when Eddie arrived. Everyone was here, and that meant party time.

Nancy was pattering about the kitchen, emptying bags of popcorn into several large bowls. You waddled in behind her, gripping the counter for some extra support. “Hey Nance, can I help you with anything?”

She looked up at you and smiled, “No no, y/n, I’ve got it!”

You pull out a stool from the island in the center of the large kitchen and climb onto it. Struggling a little bit, your balance off and swollen ankles doing you no favors. “Alright I guess I’ll just sit here then, and watch you, while my hands do nothing.”

She laughs, rolling her eyes “Alright fine, here, you can put all the candy into these individual bowls.” Bringing over two brown paper bags full of candy and a stack of small bowls.

“Good grief, it’s like we’re feeding an army of small children.”

“We pretty much are,” she sighs as the timer goes off on the oven. She puts her oven mitts on and grabs the tray of chicken nuggets. Plopping them on the stove top.

“So,” you grab the first bag of candy and start pouring it into the porcelain bowl “Did you think Steve would be the first in the Party to have kids?”

“Yes. We all knew he would actually.”

“Oh? Even when he was single though? I mean, Dustin and Suzie were married first, then you and Jonathan and then Max and Lucas, and then me and Steve… were last, so far anyway.”

“Well that’s true” Nancy starts, grabbing her spatula and transferring the nuggets onto a serving platter. “But Steve’s the only one in the Party who just wholeheartedly couldn’t wait to be a parent.”

You’re smiling down at the bowls of candy in front of you. “He’s going to be an amazing father.”

“He is,” she agrees. “He was a great older brother to these kids growing up. You should’ve seen him. Especially with Dustin.”

“I wish I would’ve been around then. Hearing your stories, seeing the closeness between everyone. It’s so beautiful.” Your eyes well up with tears “You’re like a family, but like more than that even. I feel so blessed to even be allowed in.”

“Oh y/n are you okay?” Nancy rushes around the island over to your stool. She rubs your back as you start to cry.

“I’m fine I promise,” your chest heaving “it’s the hormones I swear.”

“You are our family y/n. And we are so happy to have you. You make Steve so happy, and you’re giving him a gift that he’s always wished for. If anyone’s blessed, it’s us.” She grabs your hands and helps you down off the stool, “why don’t you go to the bathroom and get cleaned up and I’ll meet you out in the living room with all the food okay?” You nod, realizing your mascara must’ve been running down your face.

—

The half bath is right across the hall from the living room. You could hear everyone chatting, laughing and catching up as you wipe your cheeks free of the dark streaks of watered down mascara. You’re not trying to eavesdrop, but with nothing else to focus on you end up listening in on Steve, Robin, and Jonathan’s conversation. Especially when it becomes clear they’re talking about you.

“Wait so how did you two meet again?” Robin asks.

“In the second semester of my first year, she was in my Lighting and Exposure class. We had to do a project with a partner and she just walked up to me and asked if I wanted to work with her.” Jonathan said with a nervous tremor. “I was a little hesitant at first but she wouldn’t really take no for an answer and I didn’t know anyone in the class so.”

“She is a stubborn one isn’t she?” Steve laughed.

“Yeah” Jon mused.

“And just like that you were friends?” Robin seemed a little skeptical that that was the end of the story.

“I mean yeah, we worked on the project together and learned we had a lot in common so we started hanging out more. Introduced her to Argyle after a while and yeah… we were inseparable after that I guess.”

Steve stayed quiet, you knew he was the jealous type. Like an excitable guard dog. Thankfully he wasn’t one to growl until it seemed like there truly was an intruder but the silence meant he was watching. Waiting. Protective of his little family.

He’d never been jealous of your friendship with Jonathan, even knowing how you used to feel about him. He knew you and Jonathan were still close. He seemed very secure in your relationship. But hearing about the time before him seemed to make him uncomfortable.

“So what about that semester when you and Nancy were broken up? You never thought about, like asking y/n out? Or were you never attracted to her that way?”

You almost burst out of the bathroom with that line of questioning. What the hell was Robin trying to do? But you were curious too, so you stayed as quiet as you could in the bathroom, ear practically pressed flush with the door.

“Uh” Jonathan coughed, “I guess I just always saw her as more of a sister.” Oh that stung.

“Damn. Poor girl never even had a chance with you.”

You froze. All the blood leaving your face.

“What do you mean? Never had a chan- she never, wait, did she say something-“

“Damnit Robin.” Steve sighed heavily.

Their voices seemed to fade, like Steve was dragging her away. “I said too much again, didn't I? I’m so sorry Steve, please don’t tell her. Oh my-“

—

You flushed the toilet and washed your hands, having spent too much time in the bathroom now to have just been wiping your face, or even just peeing. You were mortified. But you had to go out there like nothing was wrong, like you didn’t hear your husband's best friend expose you to your best friend.

You exited the bathroom to find everyone sitting down on the couches and piles of pillows on the floor. Steve was sitting near the center of the main sofa, Robin on one side and an empty spot for you on the other. You waddled over to the couch and slowly lowered yourself into the open seat. Exhaling in relief when he pulled your aching feet into his lap to rub them.

“Whiiiipped” Dustin whispered from the floor. Suzie slapped him hard in the chest “ow. Sorry geez.”

“I think it’s sweet Dusty, you’re not going to rub my feet when they start to swell?”

“Of course I will honey. I’ll do whatever you need to be comfortable.” He kisses her on the cheek.

“Now who’s whipped,” Steve mumbles.

You look down at the couple, confusion written on your face. You’re not sure if they realize what they have just confessed. “Suzie, are you..?”

She smiles wide and just nods. The whole room goes nuts with excitement and congratulations.

“That’s amazing Suz I’m so happy for you! Looks like we won't be the only parents in the Party for long.” You nudge Steve with your shoulder. He looks like he’s about to burst into tears. His first child, his little brother, about to be a parent himself. He couldn’t be more proud.

“Who's next?” You ask, looking around the room.

“Probably you again.” Mike laughs.

“Let me have this one first before even thinking about the next one Mike. Geez. Give my uterus a break.” You huff, “but damned if I don’t agree, it’s going to be me or Suzie again. Or there will be a long break and it’ll be Nancy.”

“That would be a very long break” she chuckles, “Jonathan and I agreed, no kids until I’m further in my career. Probably will be a long long time.”

“Whenever you’re ready! Don’t let anyone push you to have them sooner.”

“Did Steve push you to have one so soon?” Max asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

A devious smile creeped up your lips, “oh I didn’t have a choice, but it wasn’t because he pushed me into it, it’s because of his massive d-“

“PLEASE,” Will called out from beside Mike, “not again. I beg you. We’ve heard enough about Steve’s” he gestured wildly with his hands “stuff.”

You can’t help but laugh, Steve joining in, squeezing your ankle in the process. “I’m just joking. We made the choice together as a couple. We were just ready,” you look up into Steve’s warm loving eyes, “Steve’s always been ready, you all know that. So he waited patiently for me. But it didn’t take too long, obviously. I just couldn’t wait to have a little Steve running around.” He kisses you softly when you finish.

—

When the second movie ends, everyone gets up and stretches their legs. Some rushing to the bathroom, some grabbing the bowls of popcorn and candy, others cleaning up the trash. You’re still sitting on the couch, perks of being weighed down by a tiny human, when Jonathan approaches.

He rubs the back of his neck, tremor in his voice as he says, “Hey y/n so I’ve got a project I’ve been working on, I’d like to show you now if that’s okay?”

“Sure,” you smile and offer both your hands to him “but you’ll have to get me up first.”

He grabs your hands and yanks you up out of the soft sofa. “When are you due again? Feel like you’ve been pregnant forever.”

“Me too. Due date is a week from now but the doctor said it could be any day now.” He leads you up the stairs to the second floor where he’s converted one of the spare bedrooms into his own little darkroom.

The window in the room is completely blacked out. Covered by a piece of plywood painted black. No light getting through, it’s perfectly snug. He flips on a light and the red bulb flickers to life in the middle of the room. You waddle in, taking in the scenery as your eyes adjust to the darkness. He shuts the door behind you. In the dark it’s almost impossible to see where he is. The red light not much help.

“This is amazing Jonathan. Now we won’t have to drag everything to and from the Arts center anymore.”

“Yeah,” he huffs a laugh “I figured that would be a lot more difficult now, with the baby and everything.”

“You.. didn’t do this for me… did you?”

“No, well” he takes a deep breath, “not just for you. I did it for us.”

“Oh”

“Not like that,” he rubs his hand across his face, “I mean like, shit. I just meant that I knew you’d have a hard time dragging a baby to the Arts center and well, I wouldn’t want to go without you and knowing that you weren’t there because you couldn’t go. Not because you didn’t want to be there. And you’re my best friend and I want you to be happy. I want to be able to still see you and do the thing we love, together.”

“Jonathan,” you find him in the darkness, giving his arm a squeeze “that’s so sweet. Thank you. This means a lot.”

“Of course.” He clears his throat, “I did uh, I did want to ask you about something though.”

Your heart drops to your stomach. You knew what he was going to ask about. You’d hoped maybe he’d just forget about it though. “Sure” you whisper.

“I was talking to Robin earlier and she said something that confused me.”

“Sounds like Robin” a nervous giggle choking out of you. You cough awkwardly into your fist and wait. Leaning on the table next to you.

Jonathan mimics you in the dark, leaning his hip against the table and placing his hand flat against it. “You never like, had a thing for me…did you?”

You breathed out a heavy sigh. Weighing the pros and cons in your head. If you lied to him you would always have this pressure on your chest. You never lied to him, he was the closest person to you, after Steve of course. But would it ruin your friendship if you told him the truth?

You knew there wasn’t really a point in weighing your options. There was only one really choice here. You were always going to be honest with him. “Yeah. Yeah I did have a thing for you. Of course I did.” Your laugh was breathy, full of nerves. You weren’t ready to lose your best friend. Your family.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” He inched his fingers towards yours on the table. Barely brushing against your fingertips.

“Well, I thought I was dropping hints there for a while but you never really picked up on them I guess? And then you and Nancy got back together so I just decided that you know. It doesn’t matter now.”

“Dropping hints? Y/n I’ve never known you to drop hints. You usually just say whatever you’re thinking. Bold and stubborn and loud.”

“Those don’t sound like compliments.”

“Trust me,” he slipped his hand over yours and squeezed. “They are.” He laughed a little under his breath, “I can’t believe you used to like me.”

“Jonathan” your chest was tight, “I didn’t just used to like you. I was in love with you.”

“You, you loved me?” He sounded so taken off guard. Like he didn't even think for a second that was a possibility.

“I did. Well, I still love you of course. Im just not IN love with you anymore. But it doesn’t matter now. And honestly, I’m so glad things turned out the way they did. You and Nancy are perfect for each other. And if it wasn’t for your wedding I never would have met the love of my life. And I wouldn’t be having this baby. And I wouldn’t take any of it back.” You took in a deep shuddering breath, “everything worked out exactly the way it was supposed to.”

He squeezed your hand again and let go, “You’re right. I wouldn’t change anything either. But I do wish I would’ve known. Maybe I could’ve made things easier on you. Pulled back on the PDA or something. Or maybe even introduced you to Steve sooner.”

“There’s no telling if I’d be with Steve now if I’d met him sooner. We only went home together because we were both sad about the people we loved getting married…”

“Oh come on y/n” you heard a voice muffled from outside the door.

“Shit. Pretend I didn’t say that. Please please forget I said that.” You yelled back at Jonathan as you ran to leave through the dark room door.

“You heard everything huh” you said as you met Steve in the hallway.

“Yeah.” He looked down at his shoes. “Didn’t mean to eavesdrop or anything. Just came up to see if you were ready to go.”

“I’m sorry I spilled your secret. I was only trying to explain my side. Didn’t mean to throw you under the bus with me.”

He looked down at you, hand coming to your cheek, forehead pressing to yours. “It’s okay sweetheart. You said some really pretty things in there. And I want you to know that, I wouldn’t change a thing either.” He kisses you gently.

“I love you so much baby.” You whisper against his mouth.

“I love you too. More than anything.”

—

Edward William Harrington was born 2 days later. Ten fingers and ten toes. A full head of hair, thanks Steve. So so tiny. The most beautiful little thing you had ever laid eyes on.

Steve sat close next to you on the hospital bed, holding little Eddie in his arms. He hadn’t stopped silently crying since you’d handed the bundle over to him. You’d never seen the man happier than in this moment. “He’s perfect.” Steve whispered.

“He really is.”

“I should call my parents.”

Your face scrunched up, “I guess you should. You called Joyce and Hopper already right?”

“Yeah, yeah they’re in the waiting room. I’ll go get them, just- just want a few more minutes to admire our little guy before the chaos.”

“Okay, big boy. Take all the time you need.”

He leans down and kisses your forehead. “I’m just overwhelmed,” he takes a shuddering breath, laughing on the exhale “Didn’t think it was possible to be this happy.”

“Me either.” Your cheeks hurt from how hard you’re smiling, “Feels like a dream. Well, all this with you and the baby I mean. My vagina does not feel like a dream. It feels very much real.”

—

When Mr. and Mrs. Harrington arrive, you have your best fake smile plastered across your face. You hadn’t seen them since the baby shower and you didn’t want to see them now. But keeping up appearances was the Harrington way.

“Would you look at that.” Mrs. Harrington said, voice low as she walked over to the bed. “He is gorgeous.”

“He is isnt he?” Your rocking him lightly in the crook of your elbow. Watching as he sucks on his own lip.

“How was the labor?” She asked. And you looked straight up to Steve. His face instantly fell into a grimace. Knowing she’d walked right into this one.

You look up at her and smile, “well, it wasn’t too bad actually. Steve’s cock is roughly the size of a newborn baby so Eddie just kinda slipped right out.”

She snapped her head to look at Steve, anger written all over her face, “why do you let her talk to me this way?”

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, hand on his hip. “I don’t control my wife, mom, she’s her own person. I don’t ‘let’ her do anything. She has free will.” He pauses and sighs, “and you did call her a whore at our baby shower.. so.”

“Well I don’t like her foul mouth.”

“Okay mom, well, it’s either put up with it or never see your grandson. What’ll it be?”

You smiled at her, all teeth when she looked back at you. “Fine.” she said through gritted teeth.

“I’ll try to clean up my mouth Mama Harrington. As long as you promise to be a good and kind grandparent, and remember your place. I am Eddie’s mother. I make the choices in how to raise him, as well as Steve. Not you.”

—

After your in-laws left, Steve put your sleeping baby boy in his little bassinet and sat back on the bed with you again. Kissing your hair and rubbing your shoulders. “I couldn’t have asked for a better husband.” You look up at him as he leans in to kiss you gently. “You’re always standing up for me. Even when I say the most disgusting things to your parents.”

“Well. I mean they deserve it.”

“I know, and that’s why I do it. A little payback for being such shitty parents to you.”

“I’m honestly so grateful for it. I’ve never had someone care for me the way you do. Can’t believe how lucky I got with you.”

“You’re gunna get lucky with me. Soon as that 6 week mark hits. Gunna get lucky with me a lot.”

Steve laughs, squeezing your shoulder “Oh I know it baby, Im looking forward to it.”

“This is going to be the longest time we’ve gone without having sex.”

“Mmhm, it’s gunna be hard to keep my hands off of my sexy wife.”

“Don’t worry big boy, I’ll still blow you.” You bite your lip as you slide your hand up his thigh. “We can’t have penetrative sex but no one said anything about me giving you oral.”

Steve swallows hard, “Shit sweetheart, that mouth is always trying to get me in trouble.”

“So you’re saying yes to the blow job?”

“Oh no no, baby I honestly think we’re going to be too tired to even think about all that once we get home,” He places his hand on your cheek and pulls your face to look up at him, “and I'm honestly not interested in any of that unless you’re also receiving.”

“Mm my sweet selfless man.”

“Well it’s not completely selfless, I get off to you getting off.”

“Ugh fuck, I’m going to drop this conversation right here. My crotch hurts too much to think of mutual gratification.”

Steve kisses you softly on the tip of your nose, “I know my love, get some rest okay?” He gets off the bed gently and sits in the recliner next to the bassinet, “might as well get some sleep while he’s sleeping.”

—

2 months later

Raising a newborn as sweet and quiet as Eddie was a joy. A blessing. A surprise to say the least. Motherhood came easy to you and fatherhood even easier to Steve. He was your whole world. But because of this, you and Steve had not had a second to yourselves.

“I swear Nancy, every single time I try and touch Steve in any way, Eddie starts crying. And I’m not complaining about taking care of my sweet little bundle of joy. He’s so easy to care for, but his timing is crazy.” You let out a deep sigh, hugging the phone closer to your ear “last night, I cuddled up against Steve not 5 minutes after laying Eddie down in his bassinet, and I’m thinking okay, okay here we go. I’m not kidding okay, the moment- the very second I kiss his neck, Eddie starts wailing. It’s like he has a little alarm in his brain for when mommy and daddy want to love on each other.”

Nancy laughs, “That does sound like a rather unfortunate dilemma.”

“It is, it really is. I was given the okay to resume marital activities two weeks ago and the farthest we’ve gone is kissing, no tongue, and a thigh grip.”

“A thigh grip? Who gripped who?”

“It was me, gripping myself because I’m deprived, but Eddie wouldn’t let me have that either.” You whine.

“How about you and Steve drop Eddie off here this weekend. Jon and I would love to watch that beautiful little angel baby.”

“Wait, are you sure? Oh Nancy, thank you. Please, yes.”

“Absolutely. We could use some practice anyway right?”

“Well you are welcome to practice with all of the kids we have until you have your own. Seriously, thank you.”

—

You’re staring down at your sweet little boy as you walk up the Byers residence. Admiring his thick brown hair, large dark eyes, and sweet little button nose. He’s looking up at you from the crook of your elbow and cooing.

The closer you get to the door, the more anxious you start to feel. You’ve never been away from Eddie for longer than 30 minutes, and that was just to shower. He was always in the same room as you, or one room over.

“Are you okay, baby?” Steve asks as you reach the door. He puts his hand on the small of your back.

You feel a tear slip down your cheek, “Yeah, yeah I’m just- I’ve never been away from him. I’m scared to leave him. What if something happens while we’re away and he gets hurt or sick and I won’t be there to take care of him.”

“Oh honey,” he wipes the tear from your cheek and pulls your head to lean on his shoulder, little Eddie cooing between you. “He will be perfectly fine. Nancy and Jon are going to take such good care of him. I trust them with my life, I know they will do everything in their power to keep our boy safe. I know they will.”

You nod, sniffling lightly. “Okay. You’re right. I know you’re right.”

You reach out and ring the doorbell. In less than 30 seconds Jonathan is there swinging the door open with the dopiest smile you’ve ever seen on him. “Hey!! Let me have him!!” Jon extends his arms out, making grabby hands.

He looks so happy you can’t help but hand the baby right over to him. Just like that the anxious feeling disappears, you know he’s in safe and loving arms.

“Hey Eddie,” Jonathan rocks him gently, “it’s me, Uncle Jonathan. Do you remember me? From the hospital?” Eddie’s little hand grips onto Jonathan’s finger, he squeals and flails his little arms.

“Thank you for doing this Jon,” you pat his arm, moving around him in the doorway to step into the foyer. “It means a lot to us.”

Steve puts the diaper bag down on the entryway table. “This is everything you’ll need. Y/n pumped enough milk for 2 days so you should have plenty. He’s not used to the bottle nipple so it might take a few tries to get him to drink from it. But otherwise, he’s super easy. He just eats and sleeps and does his cute little baby noises right now.”

“If he gives you any trouble, Mom said to just call her and she’ll come right over. I know you won’t though. But maybe just let Mom come over anyway, she’s been coming over like twice a week but I wouldn’t let her this week so she’s probably itching for a visit.”

Jonathan breathes a laugh, “Alright sounds good. Thanks for trusting us guys. We’ve really been looking forward to having this little one in the house.”

Steve squeezes your hip, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close “alright I think that’s our cue to leave.”

You look down at Eddie in Jonathan’s arms. He’s started to blink slowly, falling asleep as you watch him. “Bye bye my love,” you whisper, leaning down to kiss his forehead, “be good for your uncle.”

When you move out of the way, Steve leans in to kiss him too, smoothing his hair from his forehead with his thumb. When he looks back at you, his eyes are glassy. You grab his hand and squeeze it.

“Have fun you two!” Jonathan calls as you walk out the front door.

Once you're both buckled into the car Steve looks over at you and clears his throat, “So- uh, when did you start calling Joyce mom?”

“Oh well, I guess it started just recently.” You smooth your hands over your soft blue dress. “She’s been a mother figure to me for years now, as you know. But with her coming over all the time now and calling Eddie her first grandchild, well, she is my mom. Yanno? And she is Eddie’s grandma and I don’t know. It just feels right to call her mom.”

Steve reaches out to you, grabbing your hand and squeezing your fingers gently, “That makes me really happy sweetheart.”

—

The hotel room is almost as nice as the room you stayed in for your honeymoon. You’d decided to stay in a hotel rather than going back to the house, because the house would just remind you of Eddie. And that would just lead to missing your baby. This was a little escape. A chance to spend uninterrupted time with your husband.

You're stalking around, checking out the room when Steve sneaks up behind you and wraps you in a bear hug. “It’s so quiet in here” he murmurs into your neck.

“Mmm, it really is. No music, no sweet baby sounds, no creaking rocking chair.”

“It’s just you and me sweetheart.” Steve starts kissing a line down your neck and over your shoulder, pulling the soft neckline of your dress out of the way.

“Yeah? And what do you wanna do with me now that you’ve got me all to yourself?”

He turns you around in his arms so you’re face to face with him, immediately kissing you hard and licking into your mouth without resistance. “Fuck” you moan into his mouth.

“I’m going to make love to you slowly,” he whispers into your mouth, “but not until after I fuck you.”

You let out a pathetic sounding whimper, clenching your thighs at the thought, “Please baby yes, it’s been too long. Want you to ruin me.”

He picks you up by your waist and throws you onto the bed in the middle of the room, crawling over you. His fingertips trail slowly up the length of your thighs, pushing your dress up as he goes. Steve’s eyes are black with desire. He leans up over you and whispers in your ear as he grips your mound in one hand, “I'm gonna make you cum twice on my tongue and then I want you to cum on my cock, understood?”

You feel the slick of your arousal spilling from you. The combination of not having sex in months and Steve’s words have you writhing against his palm. “Yes, Daddy, I understand” you whimper.

“Fuck, good girl.” he moans, “so fucking wet for me already. Can feel you soaking through your little panties.”

“Missed you touching me, Stevie” you mewl, you can’t stop thrusting your hips into his hand “Missed your fingers, and your tongue.” He takes his hand off your clothed cunt and starts to pull your underwear down with two fingers. “Mmm, I miss your gorgeous cock. Seeing you in the shower just isn’t the same. Need you warm inside me.”

He huffs a breathless laugh, biting his lower lip, “You didn’t find me sexy while I helped you and our son bathing in the shower?”

“It was sexy in a different way baby, like in a wow I’m so lucky to have such a loving attentive husband- ah” your sentence is cut off by Steve’s hot mouth on your neck, sucking a biting a bruise on your pulse point, “fuck, mmm this is a very different kind of sexy.”

He licks up the column of your throat to your mouth and hovers just above your kiss swollen lips, “I know baby I’m just teasing you” he smiles, pressing a quick kiss to your waiting lips and sucking your bottom lip into his mouth.

“I don’t know how much teasing I can take, I’m close to bursting. And I know that’s not the teasing you were talking about but fuck you’re doing both right now.”

Steve snorts, “awww my poor little girl needs me huh?” He mocks.

“Yes Daddy I really do” his eyes roll to the back of his head and bucks gently into you involuntarily. “If you’re gunna make me cum twice on your tongue big boy, then you better get started cause I need your cock. I. Need. It. I can’t take anymore build up, I’ll run out of fluid.”

Steve laughs and moves his hand back down to your aching cunt. He runs two fingers through your folds, “You’re so fucking wet” he says, bringing his fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean. You arch your back, writhing beneath him.

“Please please I really can’t do teasing right now, I need you.”

“Okay okay” he bites his lip, “so do you want my tongue at all then or do you just want me to fuck you?”

“I want your tongue later, we have all night. I need your cock now. I’m literally creating a puddle, I don’t need any foreplay. Foreplay was the drive over here, the anticipation was foreplay. Let’s go cowboy, put your monster in my cave.”

“Yes ma’am” he leans in to kiss you deeply before getting up off the bed and chucking his pants and boxers off at lightning speed. You rip your comfortable cotton dress off and throw it to the floor.

“Oh fuck there he is,” you moan reaching for Steve with grabby hands.

He crawls over you again, placing himself gently between your open legs, “you miss me? I was only gone for a second.” He says starting a trail of kiss from your clavicle up to your neck.

“You I see you all the time, I missed him” you say reaching down and grabbing his cock, giving it a little stroke. He starts a laugh but it’s strangled, a breathy exhale replacing it. “I haven’t seen him in months.”

Steve sits up suddenly, grabbing your legs by the thighs and pulling you closer to him. Lining himself up with your entrance he smirks up at you, slapping your wet cunt with his member, still teasing. Your hands fly up to his toned biceps, nails digging into his skin, babbling incoherently. You’re lost in desperation, painfully aroused and waiting, begging him to just fuck you already.

He pushes the head of his cock in, ripping an obnoxious moan from you both. And that does it, that pushes the playfulness out of Steve, at last taking his task seriously. He throws your legs over the crook of his arms and leans back over you. Kissing you forcefully before thrusting in all at once. Your scream is muffled by his mouth, tears already welling in your eyes. The onslaught of pleasure is overwhelming. “You okay baby?” He checks in, seeing your tears, “I didn’t hurt you did I?”

“No, no, no it feels so good. You’re so fucking big. Please, please move.”

He starts in a slow rhythm, it definitely feels more like making love than fucking and it’s overwhelming. Steve is looking right into your eyes and you're looking back and it’s like you're staring into each other's souls. Tangled like pretzels in this beautiful hotel room, you’ve never felt so at peace. You place a hand gently on the side of his face, tracing his bottom lip with your thumb. “I love you so much.” You whisper.

He closes his eyes, pressing his forehead to yours “I love you too.” He whispers back between shallow breaths, “luckiest man in the world.”

You giggle at that, “Mm I don’t know about that, but I’ll take it.” You kiss him gently before wiggling your hips a little, meeting his slow thrusts. “I need more big boy, wanna feel more of you.”

He nods, concentration clear on his face as he picks up the pace. Thrusting harder and deeper and quicker. “Like that? Mm?”

“Yesyesyesyes” you whine, throwing your head back against the comforter, eyes squeezed shut. When you look up at him again, he drops one of your legs and places a big hand on your face. Playing with your lips with his thumb until you open wide enough to let him stuff it in your hot wet mouth. You suck on it immediately, knowing what he wants. He curses under his breath and thrusts once harder, your responding moan vibrating through his thumb.

He takes it out of your mouth and reaches down between you to rub quick circles on your clit. “F-Fuck, I’m gunna cum baby, I’m gunna cum.” You cry out.

“Already?” He chuckles.

“It’s been- ahh - it’s been months since anything has” you struggle to form words as your vision starts to blur around the edges. “Since I’ve-“

Steve shushes you gently keeping up the rhythm with his hips and thumb until you're quivering and squeezing him from the inside. A string of expletives escaping between pornagraphic moans, cumming hard on his cock.

“Need a break?” He asks as you come back down to earth, feeling exhausted already from cumming so hard.

“No, I don’t need a break. Keep going, don’t stop.”

“You sure you’re not overstimulated? Give me a color baby.” He punctuates by rocking his hips gently.

“Definitely overstimulated but I like it, green green green.”

“Okay,” smiles, grabbing a milk swollen breast in one hand and kneading it. He lowers his head and sucks your nipple into his mouth. You laugh, watching milk slip past his lips but he just moans as he releases you. “Think your legs will hold you up if you flip over?”

“Only one way to find out.” You say, letting him slip out of you before you roll over and lift your ass in the air.

“Gorgeous,” Steve mumbles to himself before slapping your ass with a flat palm, gripping the fatty flesh with his fingers and shaking it. You let out a little yelp. Your ass fat giggles with the movement. He takes a moment to ogle your weeping core, running a finger through your folds. Your breathing is getting heavier again, needing more, your hole feels so empty without him. You push back on your knees, letting him know you're desperate with using words.

He slides his right hand up your spine, and pushes your front down lower to the mattress. He pushes into you again, slowly this time. And before he’s even all the way in he’s wrapping your hair around his fist and pulling. “This what you wanted? Hm? Wanted me to fuck you like a dirty little slut?” Once he’s buried deep he starts thrusting at a brutal pace.

You’re looking at him upside down from where he’s pulling your hair, tears streaming down your face. “Yes,” you whimper, breathing hard.

He slaps your ass again, harder this time. “Yes what?”

“Yes Daddy.” You cry out. He leans over your back and kisses you bruisingly hard. And you're glad that your child is still an infant because you know you’re going to be covered in bruises when you go home and that would not be fun to explain.

He drags his teeth down your shoulder and bites hard. You can’t help but clench around him at the sensation. He moans openly, diving back into your skin to suck a bruise just under his bite mark. “Gunna mark you up so everyone knows who you belong to.”

His possessiveness brings heat to your face, blushing hard at your husbands words. You’ve been married for years and everyone knows how in love you two are but it still feels so good to hear it. “Yours Stevie. Always. All yours.”

He slows down his brutal pace just a bit, you think he must be getting close. “Gunna fill you up. Fuck my cum into you until your round again. Put another baby in you.”

“Yes. No wait no. Yes.” You’re babbling back. Hoping this is just dirty talk because you’re not ready for another one yet.

He lets go of your hair, reaching under you to rub your still healing belly, “My sexy ass wife.” His hand slowly slips from your stomach to your clit where he starts rubbing in fast tight circles. “Never once stopped being sexy. Want you all the time.”

Oh yeah he’s definitely close. And thankfully so are you. “Are you close, baby? Gunna fill me up?”

“Yeah, yeah, want you to cum first though.” He says, leaning back and aiming his cock straight into your g-spot. It startles a scream out of you. “Is that the spot? Mm?”

You nod quickly. “Ahh- yes yes that’s it I’m so close baby right there fuck fuck fuck.” Your lower belly feels so warm as you feel your orgasm building. You feel so close but also like you’re about to piss yourself, but you don’t care because heck, Steve’s seen worse. You completely let go, losing yourself in the sensation. Your sweaty bodies are working together, wet slapping and sloshing sounds filling the room. You can’t stop the constant onslaught of moaning as he digs his fingernails into your hips, pulling you as hard as he can against him. And suddenly, you feel yourself gushing around him harder than you ever thought possible. A spray of your cum shooting so hard from your core it forces his cock out, soaking the bed and his lower torso.

“Holy shit, holy shit, did you just squirt?” Steve asks, shocked. He pushes back into you, pulling your torso up against his, trying to not slip out with all the your arousal slicking him up. “Fuck baby, that was so hot. That was so fucking hot” he moans in your ear as he comes deep inside your pussy. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I know I said I wouldn’t but fuck that was so hot I had to.”

“It’s okay,” you laugh. He pulls out of you and you turn to kiss him. Your kisses are long and languid. Full of love and awe. “Didn’t know I could do that.”

“Obviously. But now that I know I’m going to keep aiming for it.”

“You better. Felt so good. I’m so tired now though.”

He lays you gently on your back against the pillows. “Sure you’re not ready for another baby? I won’t force it if you’re not ready yet.”

“Doc said I shouldn’t for at least a few more months.. but I think.. if it happens then, it was meant to be. I’m not saying we should start trying again, but if it takes then it takes. I’ve heard it’s harder to get pregnant while breastfeeding so just, don’t get your hopes up okay?”

“Okay, that’s fair. All of it. I love you. I love you and I love our family so much.”

“I love you too baby.” He kisses your nose. “Six little nuggets right?”

“6 little nuggets.” He agrees.

—

They did in fact, get pregnant on this mini vacation. With twins. And in the end, they had 8 little nuggets.

Eddie, Stephanie, Samantha, Robbie, Dustin James, Fernando (yes, after the ABBA song, thanks Steve), Harper Joyce, and Henry… hahaha just kidding.

The last of the bunch was Christina. But they called her Chrissy. She was born on a Friday, with all the love of her family around her. Steve and y/n looked down at her full of the same amount of love and awe they shared at each and every birth. And as they looked into each others eyes, sitting close as they were at the birth of their first born, they agreed that they were done and their family was complete.

“You’re getting a vasectomy, right?”

Steve laughed, kissing your cheek gently, “Yeah, it’s scheduled for Tuesday.”

“That’s great news.” You whimpered, a tear dropping down your face.

“Yeah, it’s going to knock my breeding kink down a notch though.”

“Well, we’ll have a lot of fun pretending at least. You can just cum inside me as much as you want without consequence.”

Steve took a sharp inhale, “you’re right.” He slid off of the bed, tenderly taking Chrissy from your arms and laying her in the bassinet. “I’m just going to pop to the bathroom for a second.”

“Noo not fair. I know what you’re going to do in there. You do this every tiiime. You can’t turn us both on and expect me to not be jealous.”

“Sorry baby,” he smirked, kissing your cheek before heading towards the ensuite toilet. “Your parents said they’ll be here soon with Eddie and the twins so, just think about that.”

“What about Will and Mike? I thought they were going to introduce us to Amara today?”

“Well, Will said he didn’t want to take away from Chrissy. He said he’ll bring her over next week.”

“And what did Mike say?”

He runs a hand through his hair, other hand on his hip, “Mike said and I quote ‘We finally adopt a little girl after trying for 5 years and you’re saying you don’t want to make the birth of their eighth child less special?”

“Classic.” You laugh, “he is kind of right though, Chris won’t remember this, she doesn’t care. But I’m dying to meet their daughter.”

“I said the same thing but, it’s fine we’ll meet her next week. In the meantime I’m going to go take care of business.”

“Yeah yeah. Asshole. I love you.”

“I love you too, y/n.” He said as he closed the door.

—

Bonus side story

Taking place a few weeks after the mini vacay

Jonathan opens the door quickly, wide grin on his face as he takes your extra bags and sets them down on the entryway table. Eddie is sleeping in the car seat and you set him down gently on the floor next to the table.

“Good to see you as always Johnny boy.” You bring him in for a tight hug.

“You as well y/n.” He pats your back gently before pulling away. “Ready to develop some film?”

“You know it! I’ve got some hot pictures and I’ve been itching to see how they turned out. And some cute ones of course of my precious little angel baby.”

Jon rubs the back of his neck nervously, “Hopefully not too hot, don’t know if you’d want me in the room for those.”

“If they’re too hot I’ll send you out of the room, how about that?”

“I guess so” he chuckles.

“Not like you’ve never seen me naked before, remember that time when you, me, and Argyle went on the field trip to Malibu? We all got really high and Argyle dared us to skinny dip in the ocean and-“

“Yes yes shhh” he put his hand over your mouth “Nancy doesn’t know about that.” He whispers.

“Nothing even happened though,” you smirk, slapping his arm “well, not between you and me anyway.” You wink at him, turning on your heels to pick up the car seat and head up the stairs. “Have you heard from Argyle lately? I miss him.”

“Uh yeah, I heard from him a couple weeks ago. Said he finally finished the paper work for the franchise in West Covina… what do you mean nothing happened with us but… did something happen with you and Argyle?”

You stop just before the dark room door, placing Eddie just behind you. “Well, I mean yeah… you had just gotten back together with Nancy and I mean now you know I was kinda in love with you then so I don’t feel bad saying that well… I don’t know, Argyle was a little sad too about that. I mean not that.” You look down at your feet, sweat beading at your neck, “ANYWAY, yeah. After you went back to the hotel room we slept together, on the beach. Not slept but you know. We had sex.”

“Wow. I had no idea you had a one night stand with our college best friend.”

You cough into your hand, “Yeah. Yeah. It wasn’t quite a one night stand. That was the first time though.”

“Y/N…”

“What?? I was lonely and so was he and just kinda found some peace in each others bodies a few times. A lot of times. These words sound like deja vu but the experiences were totally different.”

“Wha.. how many…f-for how long?”

“Jon come on, it’s not a big deal. It was only like maybe 50 or so times in like the span of a month.”

He pinch’s the bridge of his nose, hand on his hip looking like a perfect mimicry of your husbands mom pose. “And you never thought to tell me?”

“Why would I? It wasn’t serious, we never got past regular friendship feelings and it didn’t last that long so, thought it was best to not bring it up.”

“Well, I mean okay. It’s just weird to me because of how much you talk about your sex life with Steve.”

“That’s different, Steve is the romantic love of my life. And I love Argyle but not like that. I’m not going to talk openly about a friends with benefits situation no matter how much it rocked my world.” You wink.

He lets out a deep sigh, “Alright, well. I now know too much about too many of my friends.”

“Oh come on I barely even said anything about Argyle. He was good though, really really good. You should’ve given him a chance.”

“What??”

Your eyes widen, “Nothing, let’s develop these nudes shall we?”

“Yeah.. yeah okay. Let me see if Nancy can watch Eddie for a bit.”

“She can and she will” Nancy says, coming out of their bedroom. She bends over Eddie’s care seat and unbuckles him, pulling him out and pressing him into her chest. “I always had a feeling Argyle had a crush on you.” She said as she turned back towards her bedroom.

“What??” Jon exclaimed looking at her back as she walked away.

“Man you really are oblivious.” You laugh, opening the darkroom door. “Or just really blinded by your love for Nance.”

“Yeah let’s go with that.”

“I think that’s beautiful, Jon. So blinded by love you don’t even notice anyone else’s interest.”

You can’t see it in the dark of the room but you know he’s blushing.

“Also, please don’t tell Argyle I accidentally hinted at his crush. Man, we are really bad at keeping secrets in this group.”

“Yes it would seem we are.” He agrees, beginning his developing process.

“I think I’m pregnant.”

You hear a clatter, like metal and paper and plastic falling to the ground along with a human like thud.

“Are you okay?? What happened?” You call out, arms reaching out in the dark.

“I’m okay,” he chokes. “Again?”

#aloneagainparttwo #steve harrington #steve stranger things #steve x y/n #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington x you #steve Harrington x y/n

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aardvark-123 · 1 year

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~Excessively Twee Skyrim Headcanons: Riften Edition~

Despite his unassuming look, Aerin is a brilliant martial artist. He rescued Mjoll from Mzinchaleft by beating up a handful of Dwemer spheres, dropping a cauldron over their centurion's head and sneaking her out while the giant automaton was stumbling around like a blind, helpless, cauldron-wearing robot.

Aerin hasn't told this secret to anybody, but he found something in Mzinchaleft: a small bronze amulet, once worn by a powerful tonal architect. Wearing the amulet and using the secret trigger phrase "Aetherium spark on! Suit up! Combat Striker Bronzenizer!" allows him to materialise a suit of enchanted Dwemer armour, seemingly from out of nowhere, which is wonderful for saving carry weight.

Despite siding with the Stormcloaks, Jarl Laila is firmly against Nord-supremacy. She challenged Ulfric publicly once over his refusal to let Argonians live in Windhelm. Ulfric immediately brushed her off and started talking to someone else, and Laila didn't get another chance to talk to him for months, but she felt good about having tried.

On the surface of it, Maven doesn't seem to want her daughter Ingun to be an alchemist. Under the surface, Maven is carefully tailoring every word she says to keep Ingun timid enough to be controlled, yet independent enough to study alchemy and feel good about "getting away with it". Ultimately, Maven wants Ingun to awaken her talents and become the Black-Briar family's pet poisoner, and she'll always support Ingun's decision to do what she wants.

Um, excessively twee? Was that excessively twee? No, we need something nice, something... Ah! Here we are. Valindor is teaching Marise Aravel how to climb trees, a skill she's found indispensible for escaping from angry ice wraiths who'd like to keep their teeth.

Marise's family were the sorts of people who show their affection with food, and the importance of eating stuck with her all her life. She has been known to pester her friends, in particular Shadr, about eating a balanced diet; not just her beautifully preserved meat, fish, apples and vegetables, of course, you also need bread and cheese. And the occasional juniper berry crostata.

Bolli sometimes comes home from cheating on Nivenor with Haelga just when Nivenor is coming home from cheating on Bolli with Romlyn, Tythis, Niluvia, Hofgrir and/or Haelga. They don't say anything or even look each other in the eye, just share a bottle of mead and go to bed.

Marise has either a buzz cut or an enormous coiled-up pair of twin-tails under her hat, and she isn't in any hurry to reveal which one. Shadr might know, but he isn't telling.

Sapphire buys a lot of poison from Ingun, and the two of them have sort of become friends. Sapphire is particularly interested in an invention Ingun has been working on: long-lasting venomous nail varnish.

Wujeeta and From-Deepest-Fathoms are enjoying an on-and-off relationship. Fathoms is usually busy juggling her two part-time jobs, as a fisherwoman and a treasure hunter, but she appreciates the nights spent snuggling up with Wujeeta in the bunkhouse. Wujeeta looks up to Fathoms and wants to become a stronger person, or at least a person who isn't addicted to skooma, for her sake. Could they find peace and happiness together? We can hope so; it is Mara's city, after all...

Speaking of Mara, her loyal priest Maramal is insufferable. When Grelka got a tummy ache from some cheap horker stew, he told her it was a punishment from Mara. When bandits attacked Shor's Stone, dug up the smelter and carried it to their hideout, he said it was a punishment from Mara. He once said, completely straight-faced, that Mara had ended the Oblivion Crisis by beating Mehrunes Dagon senseless with a rolling pin. Mara has apparently blocked him on tumblr.

Laila once tried to hold a multi-faith event in Mistveil Keep. Unmid was furious: "Our boys in bear costumes have been fighting for the freedom to worship Talos! How could you think of inviting people into our city to worship some other made-up gods?!"

Maramal was more agreeable to the idea, with some reservations: "...And I'm sure all our guests will be delighted to hear the Word of Mara, that She is the one true Lady of Love, above all other gods, won't they? I'm so happy that those poor, deluded fools will finally be able to accept Lady Mara into their hearts! Mara, from whose radiant body all magic flows and whose heart gives Red Mountain its fire! Mara, Lady of Dawn and Dusk, of Life and Death, whose breath is Long Winter..."

"Just one good punch in the mug! Just one!" screamed Azura, reaching down into Nirn while Mephala and Boethiah desperately held her back.

Laila decided to hold a silent disco instead.

#the Elder Scrolls #Skyrim #headcanons #larks

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himbocoups · 5 months

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˗ˋˏ CRAWL (PREVIEW) ˎˊ˗ | 18+ Only

SYNOPSIS: If there is anything about the Devil, it’s that he always keeps his promises. The problem is, he’s mad that you seemed to have forgotten his promise.

PAIRING: devil!yjh x reader (afab)

GENRE: fantasy | smut, pwp

PREVIEW TAGS: featuring: sub!ksy, artist!xmh, housemate!jww | auditory voyeurism mention, pegging (m receiving), fingering, hickies, face sitting mention

PREVIEW WC: 2.1k

FIC WC: estimated 5-7k

MESSAGE FROM NU: hello! long time no see. i've been building this one for a while, so i'm so excited to share this preview with you all. this can be read as a standalone fic or a sequel to red horn. info regarding taglist and posting date at the end of the fic. take care and see you soon - nu ♡

FINAL FIC HERE

himbocoups's masterlist

“A little,” you reply feeling awkward and a bit burdened by the question for almost no reason at all.

“Down the hall,” the demon mumbles while hunching his back to allow himself to squint closely at the screen in front of him.

You don’t realize it until now, but an object manifests itself in your hands. A thick and ribbed silicone dildo, one that you’re too familiar with, is being stroked by you unconsciously. You feel the girth of it and how the lube prepares the toy for insertion. Then comes the teasing. You find the words naturally flowing out of your mouth: “Conciseness in your language, Soonie. What is it that you want?”

But the thing is, you know what comes next. You know what his response is as you slowly make your way over to him.

“Peg me. I’m ready,” he gasps while a tiny translucent pearl gathers at the tip of his dangling cock. “Blow my back out.”

Naked and in the middle of a studio apartment that reeks of paint fumes and essential oils, you look at yourself through the standing mirror in front of you. Despite the fan blowing in the background and his window propped open, you don’t feel cold at all. Instead, your skin pricks with heat as the sensation of arousal gathers itself at your core and spreads to the tips of your fingers. Beneath you is a mop of platinum blonde hair of the artist who sits by your feet.

“My work of art,” he mumbles before he brings his lips to your ass. In the open space where the bruises connect, he bites it with his teeth and swirls the flesh in between his teeth with his tongue. His left hand makes its way to your opening, thumbing the smooth nub that immediately makes your knees buckle. So he positions himself behind you, strongly wrapping his long right arm around your legs to keep you steady as he nips and sucks while he takes your time to circle your clit before he finally slips his finger in your core as if the action is like second nature to him.

Before you can re-experience what it felt like to sit on Minghao’s face like a chair, you find yourself in another room. This time, you’re in your own place in the room next to yours. From the placement of the desk to how the bed is pushed against the corner of the room, flush against the wall, the layout of this room directly mirrors your own. There are a lot more notecard art prints taped to the wall than you last remembered. The LED lights built into his mechanical keyboard softly pulses as it switches colors. And there is the all too familiar smell of his laundry detergent and dryer sheets that fills his room — he had just unloaded his laundry from the dryer, but didn’t have time to fold his clothes as they still sit in the laundry basket placed in front of his closet.

Two soft knocks on the door diverts your attention to the closed door.

“Yn,” Wonwoo's deep and tender voice calls your name from the other side of the door. “Is everything okay? I’m coming in.”

END OF PREVIEW // FIC OUT DECEMBER 2ND // TAGLIST OPEN

#svthub #seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #svt smut #jeonghan smut #jeonghan x reader #seventeen scenarios #jeonghan fic

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