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#i had to be like 'you should be careful what you watch' but like. i was the same at that age.
luveline · 2 days
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coworker James being protective of reader like she’s just a sweet and kind thing and he’s FINALLY accepting his feelings and reader gets like happy that he cares?
“No, no, it’s okay. Yeah, don’t worry about me, I’m just gonna watch movies all weekend. I might make popcorn. Yeah! Don’t worry about it, just have fun, okay?” 
You’re talking quietly but not without pep, hushed to avoid disturbing him. By the sounds of it, your plans for the weekend have bombed. You’re taking it remarkably well. 
“Okie dokie. Well, I’ll see you soon, yeah? Love you. Bye.” You don’t lift your head where you’re laying against the desk, but you put your phone gently by your keyboard. 
“That blows,” James says. 
“Maybe.” You turn your face to see him, before you lift yourself up and return to the pack of biscuits you’ve opened. “Do you want some?” you ask, bringing a malted milk to your mouth. 
“Please.” 
You gesture for him to take one. In relative quiet, you and James sit there chewing, the sunlight from the open window on your hands. 
“You’re not upset about your plans?” he asks. 
“A bit, but… I don’t want her to feel bad for me. She should have a good time, she got last minute tickets to see a band and she loves them. We can just hang out next weekend.” You push the biscuits toward him. “I need to stop eating these all the time.” 
You stand up and do a big stretch, arm arched over your head before you laugh and point at him. He’s never had someone look at him like this. “Pretend you didn’t see that,” you say, raising your eyebrows just a touch. 
You’re being playful. James’ stomach flips. “I didn’t see a thing,” he says. 
You drop your pointing. “Really?” 
He covers his eyes. 
Your following laughter is even richer. 
“This office makes me tired. I’m going to make some coffee before lunch is over,” you say. 
You walk away like nothing happened. James is left to ruminate. 
He pushes a hand into the crop of his hair and ruffles it, stressed, though the scratch of his nails against his scalp relieves some tension. James is used to being annoyed at you, you were always so irked with him, but lately he struggles to find anger for you. He still loves to tease you and watch your eyes change; there’s no better moments than on the mornings he’s here first and he’s found a new hiding place for your mug, and you’re forced to ask him where it is he put it. Asked is kind, really. More aptly, you demand to know where it is, and promise professional retribution. 
You could always drink from a different mug, but James has a feeling you like asking. This morning, you found it by yourself, and you put it smugly on your desk with steam rising from the surface. “You’re getting worse,”
you’d said, and that smugness suddenly felt friendly. Your smile was ten different shades of sweet. 
You are… quite sweet. You’re kind. You don’t let much upset you that isn’t James, even when it should. And the James stuff is all superficial. When was the last time you guys argued over something that mattered?
Which isn’t to say he doesn’t love arguing with you. But he’s coming to appreciate another side of you, the side that comes back to your desk with a fresh coffee and little happy breath of air when you see he’s made his two figurines cuddle each other. 
“They’re in love,” you say dreamily. 
“You can be so lovely,” James says. It’s like something takes over his body. 
You put your coffee down. “What?” you ask, smiling as though it’s a joke you don’t get. 
He’s not sure he should say it again. “I don’t know. When you smile, you’re really pretty. Like, even more than usual.” 
“Ha-ha.” 
“No, I’m serious.” 
“I don’t believe you.” 
James takes one of your biscuits. “Then don’t, it doesn’t bother me.” He wishes he hadn’t said it, what a weird thing to say, but he can’t pretend he was kidding, it would be crueller than saying nothing. So he wedges a biscuit in his mouth and laughs when you call him gross, your facade one he doesn’t believe. You wrinkle your nose, but you’re happy underneath it. 
Lovely, even. 
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chrissv4mp · 2 days
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make a movie with you that we'd have to hide , CHRIS S.
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summary: you can't help but be obsessed with everything about your boyfriend, and one night, you ask him if you two could try something... different.
pairing: chris stuniolo × fem!reader
warnings: SUPER subby!chris, sorta shy!chris, pet names (ma, baby, love, good boy, baby boy, pretty boy, etc.), handjobs, p in v, unprotected sex, recording, begging, overstimulation, degradation, choking if you squint, name-calling (slut, etc.), just pure filth🤷‍♀️
a/n: chris......... these photo dumps have me screaming, i think i'm transitioning to a chris girl😖
"clothes on the counter for you, try 'em on. if i'm allowed, i'll help you take 'em off..." - LUNCH , billie e.
the door shut softly, and the next thing you heard were chris's footsteps coming down the hall.
his lips curved into a smile the second he caught sight of you, stretching his arms put before falling into your embrace on the couch.
"hi, baby," you muttered, pressing a soft kiss to his neck.
chris exhaled, kissing your cheek, "hi,"
the brunette boy pulled away, staring deep into your eyes before smiling softly, "hi, ma."
he kissed your cheek before getting up, hanging his hoodie up behind the front door before going into the kitchen.
you sighed, moving the blanket off of you before following your boyfriend.
staring wasn't unusual between you two. he always looked so good, and chris had always said you looked gorgeous every second of the day.
but right now, he looked better than ever. his grey t-shirt was a bit small for him, so whenever he moved his arms it would ride up, exposing his v-line and some of his lower abdomen.
his jeans were bigger around his waist, causing them to fall a little lower. you weren't complaining, cause this was the best sight you've seen.
"y/n, baby, are you there?" you didn't even notice your boyfriends repeating your name until he snapped his fingers.
your eyes went back up to his in an instant, blood rushing to your cheeks at the fact that he might've seen you staring.
but chris wouldn't care, he knew what he was doing when he got ready this morning.
"sorry. i'm here, just zoned out." you laughed, walking closer to him and pulling him into a hug.
the boy chuckled, rubbing your back and giving your head a quick kiss before moving toward the fridge.
his eyes moved around the food inside before he spoke again, "should i cook? there's still that steak we bought on wednesday,"
he looked back at you, and you stared at his blue eyes just a little longer than usual before giving him a reply, "sure,"
"i mean, who's turning down professional chef, christopher sturniolo?" you joked, leaning against the kitchen counter.
chris giggled, looking back at the fridge before opening the freezer and grabbing out the packaging the steak was in.
"not even nick and matt can resist." chris smiled, grabbing the scissors to cut open the plastic.
you watched silently as chris carefully cut the packaging, eyes fixated on his hands and fingers that so delicately moved.
chris couldn't bear the silence, even if it was comfortable, "so, nick, matt, and i tried gummy food vs. regular food. shit was disgusting,"
he laughed, adding onto his topic, "also nick broke a glass, and almost the camera with a gummy donut."
you smirked, chuckling. your mind went blank for a few seconds before an idea popped into your mind.
chris was always vlogging with his brothers, and he loved to be the center of attention of everything they did.
if he liked the audience so much, then why not create a movie? a movie that was just for you and chris to see, make a movie that you two would have to hide.
"nick? seriously, out of the three of you, i would've never guessed him," you replied, the idea still lingering in your mind.
how would you even bring it up? it would be awkward, and chris might even think it's weird.
but he always told you to come to him whenever, so why were you so scared now?
"that was amazing, chris," you complimented, placing your hand on his thigh under the table.
he smiled, blushing slightly as he looked down, "thanks."
the brunette boy stood up, grabbing both of your plates and taking them to the sink. before he turned the water on, you grabbed his wrist.
"hey, i got it, go upstairs and take a shower. you've already done enough, 'kay?" you said just above a whisper, running your thumb over his palm.
he smiled softly, kissing your forehead before placing the dishes down in the sink, "you're the best. i love you, ma."
"love you, too, chris." you smiled, taking over his place at the sink as you listened to him walk up towards the stairs.
before he reached them, you called out, "i left you some clothes on the bathroom counter, too!"
he thanked you before continuing his way up to the bathroom.
rinsing off the plates and forks, you placed them on the drying rack before opening the dishwasher.
you grabbed the clean dishes from the dishwasher, putting them away in the cabinets before grabbing the dirty ones and placing them in.
as you finished, you decided to pass the time by going on your phone, lying back down on the couch before getting lost in the tiktoks on your for you page.
once you got bored, you went to instagram, going to the triplets' account and looking over their new friday photo dump.
chris was on the fourth slide alongside nick, and their friend, nate. his shirt was riding up his stomach and his boxers were showing just the slightest.
he smiled innocently, holding out the peace sign as his arm hung around nate's shoulder.
you crossed your legs, biting your lip as your eyes went over the picture again. he looked so good in it, but he also looked like he was so innocent.
fuck, you just wanted to ruin him for anyone else. you wanted to let everyone know that chris was yours.
if he allowed you tonight, you'd help him take off his clothes.
you remember picking out his red plaid pajama pants and a black wife-beater. he always looked good in that.
you decided to walk upstairs to your bedroom, it was too quiet downstairs and a bit too dark for your liking.
as you walked past the bathroom, you heard heavy breathing even over the sounds of water hitting the shower floor.
stopping right in front of the bathroom, you put your ear against the door. you gasped quietly as you heard chris moan. it was kind of high-pitched, and right after, he whimpered your name.
"fuck," you groaned quietly, deciding to just continue your walk to the bedroom.
something to tease him about later. so impatient, he couldn't even wait a few minutes longer to get off.
chris crawled onto the mattress, the edge of the bed dipping as he made his way over to you at the headboard.
his hair was still damp, water dripping off the ends every other minute.
"i missed you all day," he whispered, lying on your chest as he nestled his head into the crook of your neck.
your hands threaded into his hair, massaging his scalp as he lay comfortably.
"i missed you, too." you muttered, kissing his head.
his hands moved up your body, sneaking under the fabric of your shirt and continuing their way to your chest.
you sighed, feeling him toy with the fabric of your bra.
"missed all of you.." he mumbled, kissing your neck and occasionally nipping at it.
his touches weren't making the heat between your thighs any better. if anything, they just made you wetter.
you pulled on his hair softly, your grip tightening with every new mark he left on the soft skin of your neck.
"chris," you gasped, hands going down to his waist as you gripped it softly.
he whimpered at your motions, bucking his hips against yours and eliciting a groan from your throat.
a smirk came to your lips as you felt his dick bulging from underneath his pants and boxers, and the moment he stopped sucking your neck, you flipped him over on his back.
chris gasped silently, lips parted as he stared up at you with eyes full of lust.
"didn't you just get off, love?" you asked in a whisper, caressing his cheek and running your thumb over his bottom lip.
his face went red, turning his head to the side to try and hide.
you quickly grabbed his chin, turning his head back so that he could look straight at you.
"don't be so rude," you smiled, "can't you just answer my question? please?"
he sighed, biting his lip as he looked anywhere but your eyes. he hesitated before speaking, "yea- yes, mhm. i did, ma."
your hand went lower, traveling down his jawline and stopping at his neck. you wrapped your fingers around him, putting the slightest amount of pressure down.
"yeah? do you think you're better at getting yourself off than i am?" you teased, watching as his face contorted into a look of worry.
he shook his head frantically, and you applied more pressure to his neck for him to stop.
releasing your hand just a bit, you began again, "then why, hm?"
chris bucked his hips, his eyes rolling back as he whimpered out his answer, "was thinkin' 'bout you, fuck.. 'jus so pretty."
your frowned in fake sympathy, tilting your head a little to see his face better in the dimly-lit room.
humming, you looked around the room, eyes landing on the small digital camera chris had on his nightstand.
"hey, y'know what would make up for your mistake, baby boy?" you muttered, watching as chris's lips parted.
"what?" he whispered, finally making eye contact with you.
staying quiet, you got off him, walking around to his side of the bed and grabbing the camera.
chris sat up, eyes following your every movement as you went into your shared closet. he raised an eyebrow, clueless and confused.
when you came back to the bed, you put up his tripod, setting the camera onto it before adjusting the settings and placing it so that the camera was pointed toward the bed.
before chris could spill his thoughts, you spoke, "is this okay?"
he didn't even hesitate, nodding quickly. chris liked the idea of secret sex-tapes, ones that only you two would see.
he never told you many of his fantasies, keeping to himself every time because he would doubt you'd say yes to him.
before getting on the bed, you pressed the "record" button.
the side of the bed dipped as you crawled over to chris, pushing him to lay down again before trapping him in a heated kiss.
chris was already painfully hard, and the way you shifted around on his lap didn't make his case any better, gasps and whimpers being trapped between your two lips.
when he moaned, you slipped your tongue past his lips, exploring his mouth and running over his teeth as you groaned.
his hands went to your waist, holding you with possession as he guided your movements.
your free hand went lower, sneaking under his plaid pajamas and palming him through the soft fabric of his boxers.
chris couldn't reciprocate the kiss anymore within a few seconds, gasps, and whimpers falling from his mouth into yours.
"feels s'good," the brunette boy sighed, eyes staying shut even as you pulled away to trail kisses down his neck.
you could feel the damp spot of pre-cum on his boxers, and it made you impossibly wetter.
"so worked up," you muttered before sucking on his pulse point, hearing as chris begged in that whiny tone of his.
he wasn't even speaking coherently, blabbering out inaudible words as he gripped your waist tighter.
you left a hickey every time you went lower, leaving a trail of marks all the way to the neck of his wife-beater.
"need you, need you s'bad. please, please, ma." he groaned, eyelids fluttering open at the loss of stimulation on his clothed cock.
"be patient, i know you can." you crawled down his body, stopping right before the edge of the bed before tugging on his plaid pajama pants.
chris lifted his hips, helping you as your hands tugged the fabric down to his ankles.
before chris could beg again, you tugged his boxers down, revealing his dick that looked painfully hard.
"need you, mamas. need your hands, please, you're s'good," he whined, bucking his hips into nothing at the thought of your hands around him.
placing a hand on his hips, you stopped his movements.
he groaned out in annoyance before watching you spit in your hand and move it to his cock.
"shit," he gasped shakily, the feeling of your hand moving up and down his length making him shudder.
your thumb circled his tip, gathering the pre-cum from there and spreading it along his length.
your hand began to move faster, making chris moan even louder and buck his hips as best he could. it was all so overwhelming for him, and it was just the first round.
"god, baby, s'good to me." the brunette said in between moans, eyes rolling to the back of his head as his back arched slightly.
"better than your own hand?" you asked, and chris nodded quickly.
you laughed before crawling back up his body, capturing his lips in a kiss once again as you continued the movements with your hand.
chris was already so sensitive, making him more vocal and needy as he chased his high. he couldn't help it when you always looked so fucking gorgeous.
"g'nna cum, fuck, i'ma cum..!" the boy moaned against your lips, his thighs shaking as he continued bucking his hips.
your thumb circled his tip every time you stroked him, making those pretty whimpers fall from his red, puffy lips.
"c'mon, pretty boy, cum for me," you muttered in a seductive tone, and chris let out a low moan before doing just that.
gasps fell from his lips every second as he came down, your hand slowing down just a bit but not exactly stopping. not even when he came back.
he shook his head slowly, eyes squeezed shut from the pleasure that became more overwhelming as you pushed him past his second orgasm of the night.
"too much, baby, please," he didn't know what he was begging for, it felt so good but it also felt like it was too much.
hair stuck to his forehead from the sweat that formed there, and chris threw his head back into the pillows at your reassuring whispers.
"oh, but you wanted me so bad, pretty boy.." you kissed his jawline softly, whispering close to his ear, "you can take it."
"no, no.. can't," he whined, lips growing redder from how hard he bit them.
you rolled your eyes teasingly, the pace of your hand speeding up as you spoke, "you were acting like such a slut earlier, made it seem like you could take more than one,"
he groaned at your words, his resolve fading as he gave into you. his chest rose and fell rapidly, breathing heavy as he tried to keep eye contact with you.
"good boy, always so good," you praised, cupping his cheek with your free hand.
tears swelled in chris's eyes from the overstimulation, quiet sobs slipping from his lips from the pleasure.
it didn't long for chris to cum again, his thighs shaking as he whined loudly.
"see, you're so amazing, baby boy," you cooed, getting off the bed to strip yourself of your own clothes.
chris just stared, scooting up to sit against the headboard and sighing as he stared at every inch of your body.
"so pretty, fuck," he muttered, his dick getting hard just at the sight of your body.
he never knew someone would ever have this effect on him.
you crawled back on the bed, standing on your knees and lining chris's cock up with your entrance.
chris didn't have time to process what you were doing before you sunk down on his cock fully, making him moan out.
"one more for me?" you muttered, pecking his lips before beginning to roll your hips.
it didn't take long for chris to help you bounce on his dick, making it all the more pleasurable as you rode him.
the sounds of skin against skin filled the room along with both of your moans mixing together.
your hands tugged at his hair, making chris whine louder as he bucked his hips frantically into your pussy.
"oh my god..!" chris squirmed beneath you, nails digging into the exposes skin of your waist as he stared up at you.
your mouth hung open, gasps and moans falling out as you continued to ride him, picking up your pace.
"c'mon, baby, one more.." you muttered, eyes fixated on your boyfriends face.
chris cried out as he reached the edge, holding it as he stuttered out something, "need t'cum, please lemme cum, ma!"
you nodded, and a few seconds after chris came undone, so did you.
the brunette boy let out quiet whimpers as he came down once again, his grip on your waist loosening.
"fuck," you whispered, getting off of chris and sitting beside him.
he looked over at you, kissing your cheek with a smile, his eyes droopy from how tired he was.
"i love you," he whispered, resting his head on your bare shoulder.
"i love you, too." you replied, tilting your head to rest on his.
. . . . . . . .
tags: @starsturns234 @joemamaaa42069 @sturniolohisteric @whosthislyssbitch @sturniclo
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ataliagold · 1 day
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you told me once that i'm selfish (and i kissed you hard, in the dark)
For @astrangersummer week 4 prompt 'outside'. Title from Letter to an Old Poet by boygenius.
Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson
Rating: General
W/C: 1430
Tags: Established Steddie, minor angst, fluff, hand-holding, Steve just wants to go hiking but Eddie's not keen on the idea, until he is, despite a minor argument these boys are so soft for each other, slightly selfish Eddie but he apologizes, Eddie gets a cool stick
Summary: Steve is used to spending time doing what Eddie wants to do. On a hot summer afternoon, the tables are turned when Steve asks Eddie to go hiking with him and Eddie is...not so thrilled about it.
___
“A hike?”
“Yup.”
“You want to go…hiking?”
“Uh huh.”
“You want me to go hiking with you?”
“Yes, Eddie.”
“…I’m not sure that’s the best idea.”
“Why not?”
“Well, we could do…something else. Go to the arcade! Catch a movie, get drunk by your pool…I can come up with many alternatives to hiking, big boy.”
“I want to go, it’s one I used to do often years ago. It’ll be fun, just try it. It’s summer, we should get outdoors, enjoy the sun.”
“I’m not really an outdoors kinda guy, Steve. I thought you knew that by now.”
Steve’s shoulders had slumped a little at that. He’d watched as Eddie screwed up his nose at Steve’s suggestion, as he shook his head vehemently, as he rolled his eyes a little at Steve’s insistence that it would be a nice way to spend their Sunday.
Eddie didn’t want to go. That was ok; Steve wouldn’t make him. It had been stupid to even ask him in the first place, he supposed – Eddie was right, it really wasn’t his sort of thing.
Except…Steve had spent long evenings watching Eddie and the kids playing their campaigns, had listened as best he could as Eddie rattled off ideas and suggestions to him for the next D&D session, had sat through the frankly terrible horror movies that Eddie was rapt with, always let him play his music in the car, shrugged it off good-naturedly when Eddie complained about his taste in music…
Steve been hoping maybe Eddie would try something that he enjoyed, just for a day.
He knew Eddie hated sport and practically any form of intentional exercise; hell, his boyfriend reminded him of that frequently, grumbling when Steve and Wayne were glued to a game on TV or when Steve was busy shooting hoops with Lucas. Usually, Steve didn’t care – he knew they had different interests, loved Eddie enough that it didn’t matter.
But sometimes, Eddie’s jibes about him being a jock or a philistine or uncultured just…stung a little, especially considering Steve never bit back with his own insults, had left those days long behind him.
“Yeah, ok,” Steve mumbled eventually. “I’ll just…I’ll ask Lucas or something.”
Eddie shook his head. “He’s at Mike’s this weekend.”
“Oh. Well…never mind, then.”
Eddie sat up, grabbing for Steve’s hand. Steve let him take it, but with little enthusiasm.
“We can do something else, though,” Eddie said brightly. “Wanna rent a couple of movies, get high? I’ve still got some of Argyle’s stuff left, we could…Steve?”
Steve’s hand had gone weak in Eddie’s, his gaze drifting downwards. “Hmm?”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
Eddie shuffled closer, tilted his head to try and catch Steve’s eye. “Steeeeevie,” he hummed.
“What?” Steve said, snapping a little.
Eddie recoiled slightly. “What’s got your panties in a twist?”
Steve snatched his hand back, pushing off Eddie’s couch to stand up. “Nothing, it’s fine. I’m gonna go for this hike, I’ll see you later.”
Eddie frowned, hopping up to block Steve’s path. “On your own?” he questioned.
“Well, you clearly don’t want to go, so…”
Eddie’s face softened. “Steve -”
“No, it’s fine. You hate the outdoors, you hate exercise, you hate…” Steve trailed off.
Eddie reached out, traced a hand across Steve’s cheek. “What, sweetheart?”
Steve sucked in a breath. “You hate everything I like,” he mumbled, not meeting Eddie’s eye.
Eddie’s eyes widened, realization crossing his face. “Stevie…I…I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you wanted to go so badly. Let me just…I’ll get changed, and we’ll go, ok?”
“No, you don’t want to.”
“I do.”
Steve scoffed. “You don’t.”
Eddie nodded slightly, chewed his bottom lip for a moment. “I didn’t want to,” he admitted eventually. “But…you do things you don’t want to do for me all the time, and I know I’m not…as good at doing that as you are. So, the afternoon is yours. You want to hike? We’ll hike. I can’t promise I won’t pass out halfway, but I’ll be there.”
Steve gave him a long look. “You’re sure? And you won’t complain?”
“Well…maybe a little.”
Steve rolled his eyes, waving a hand in frustration.
“Ok!” Eddie back-peddled. “Ok, I won’t. Just…I have one request.”
“What?”
“I want to carry a cool stick.”
*****
Eddie got his stick.
Steve led them on the wooded path that branched off from Lover’s Lake, that looped its way slowly up a hill to a lookout spot over the forest. Eddie traipsed along behind him, swatting at invisible orcs with his stick, occasionally skipping off to one side to pick up and present Steve with various stones and small rocks he found along the way, the ones he deemed pretty enough to gift to him.
Halfway up, despite sweating and breathing a little harder than he should be, (smoker’s lungs, he’d given Steve as an excuse) Eddie seemed to putting in a lot of effort for Steve.
“This is…kinda cool,” he admitted.
“Really?” Steve raised an eyebrow at his boyfriend.
Eddie nodded, whacked at a bush with his stick and grinned. “Yeah. At least it’s shady here too, it’s not so fucking hot.”
Steve smiled. “Told ya. Wait till we get to the top, too. I think you’ll like the view.”
“About that…how much steeper does it get?”
A short time later, and only one little moan from Eddie about the hill, and they broke through the trees and onto a rocky outcrop with a little bench seat. The trees sprawled out below them, shades of brown and burnt orange, Hawkins nestled off to one side.
“Wow,” Eddie breathed, bent over next to Steve with his hands on his knees as he got his breath back.
Steve, not puffed in the least, nodded in agreement. “It’s nice, huh?”
“It’s like…Lothlorien.”
“…sure,” Steve offered, having no idea what his boyfriend was talking about.
Eddie slumped down on the bench seat, fingers tracing over the initials carved everywhere into the old wood.
“You on here, Stevie?” he asked.
Steve nodded, dropping to his knees and searching the edge of the seat for a moment. There, etched permanently into the wood, were the weathered initials S.H.
“Here,” he said.
Eddie smiled, touched his fingers to the marks. Quietly, he scratched his own into the wood with a sharp stick, right next to Steve’s initials.
“Looks good,” Steve observed.
Eddie looked up at him, took his hand. “Steve?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For…not taking enough interest in the things you like.”
Steve sighed, sat down beside him. “You don’t have to, Eds. I know you don’t like a lot of the things I do, it’s -”
“Don’t say it’s ok,” Eddie interrupted, holding his hand tighter. “I mean, maybe I don’t like sport and stuff. But you don’t like D&D, and I know you hate horror movies, but you don’t complain about it, and you always come along even if you don’t enjoy something.”
“I…I like spending time with you,” Steve said quietly.
“I know, and I love you for it.” Eddie’s free hand gripped the edge of the seat. “And…and I like spending time with you too, and I want to be able to do some things that you enjoy too, it’s only fair.”
“Well…did you enjoy this?” Steve asked, almost shyly.
Eddie nodded. “Yeah, actually. Nearly had a heart attack near the top there, but aside from that…” he grinned as he pulled a small laugh from Steve. “I’d like to go again. Wherever you want to go, I’ll be there.”
“I’d like that, Eds.”
“Good.” Eddie dug around in his pocket for a moment, producing a smooth black stone and plopping it into Steve’s hand. “For you,” he said, smiling when Steve turned it over in his fingers.
“It’s cool, Eds. Thanks.”
Eddie’s smile was wider than the sun.
He leant in, kissed Steve long and slow under the fading July sun.
By the time they reached the car again, Steve’s pockets were laden with little stones that had caught Eddie’s eye along the path. Despite them weighing down his shorts, he couldn’t bear to toss any of them away – he’d find somewhere to put them in their room.
As Steve started the beamer, he was surprised to see Eddie eject the Metallica tape in the player and replace it with Steve’s well-loved Tears for Fears one.
He threw a surprised look at Eddie, who shrugged in return.
“It’s well overdue for your turn, sweetheart,” he murmured softly.
As the familiar notes of Head Over Heels spilled over them, Steve reached for Eddie’s hand.
He didn’t let go the whole way home.
___
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mattyriddlesbitch · 2 days
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Hii lovely!! I'm not sure if it's alright but just hear me out. maybe a fic stalker theo completely obsessed w reader, maybe kinda dubcon but if not i totally understand !!
Very convenient timing considering I just read Haunting Adeline this weekend. I kinda used one of the parts in it for the instigation, but I hope this works!
Fuck Off
Theodore Nott x F!Reader
Warnings: DUB/NONCON PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU DON'T LIKE THIS STUFF, oral(female receiving), unprotected sex, cream pie, cussing, stalking.
18+ Minors DNI
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You've had a stalker for a few months now. They would leave gifts outside your dorm to begin with. Then they started showing up in your dorm. The gifts were sweet and tailor specifically to your likes and wants, which you couldn't decide if that made it creepier or not.
The gifts weren't the only thing you got from your stalker. They would also send you texts from an unknown number. They weren't threatening or anything that suggested harm to you. Maybe creepy since they'd talk about what you were doing in that moment, even when you were completely alone. Sometimes they were sweet, sometimes they were sexual. And you hated to admit it, but they knew exactly how to talk dirty to you, they could get you worked up so easily. It freaked you out but you weren't in danger. Right?
You were sitting in your bed reading, unwinding from the hectic day you just had when your phone went off for a text notification. It startled you out of your little world and you opened the message.
“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are when you're reading?”
Your stalker again.
“A few times.” You replied. At this point, you've given up ignoring them since they'll just keep messaging you until you respond.
“I'll tell you a million more times. You should be reminded every day how beautiful you are.”
“You already do that.”
“Maybe next time I say it, I can say it while my cock's buried deep inside you.”
“Pervert.”
“Only for you. You know you drive me insane. You make me so hard just sitting there. Especially since I know the filth you're reading. You're not so innocent yourself, bella.”
You looked at your phone for a moment before looking around. You did read dirty books, but only in your dorm. Another ping from your phone drew your attention back to it.
“You won't find me, amore mio. You should know this by now.”
“Fuck off.” You replied, angry at him for how he's treating your privacy.
“Careful, principessa. If you say that again, I'm gonna come fuck that little pussy of yours.”
You scoffed, disgusted by his words. Would he really come do it? No. Was part of you also curious if he would and wanted to see who he was? Yeah. That's why you couldn't stop yourself from replying.
“Fuck off.”
“You're in for it now, cara mia.”
You rolled your eyes and went back to your book. Your eyes felt heavy after a while and you put the book aside to fall asleep.
The next day, you got up and headed for the showers, getting ready for the day. You stripped and got under the hot water of the shower, relaxing for a moment before starting your shower routine.
You always got an eerie feeling of someone watching you or being right there when you closed your eyes while rinsing the shampoo and conditioner out of your hair. This time, though, when you opened your eyes after rinsing out the conditioner, there was someone right in front of you. You knew him, of course, everyone did. Theodore Nott.
You screamed and backed away from him, hitting the shower wall while you covered your body as best as you could.
“Get the fuck out!” You yelled.
“I'm not going anywhere, cara mia.” He smiled. You noticed he was fully clothed as he stepped towards you, drenching his clothes from the shower.
“You? You're the fucking creep that's been stalking me?” You made the connection after hearing him call you the same pet name as your stalker.
“If you recall that little conversation last night, I told you I'd come fuck you if you told me to ‘fuck off’ again, which you did.” He took another step closer, his shoes nearly touching your toes. “And I don't make empty threat, principessa.”
“I could scream right now and someone will come in and stop you.” You threatened, hoping to deter him.
“I'm hurt you think I'm so stupid. I put a silencing charm on the room and looking charm on the door so no one could come in and you can't get out.” He said as he brushed a strand of your wet hair from your face.
You flinched from his touch, closing your eyes. “What are you gonna do to me?” You whisper.
“I'm gonna make you feel so, so good, bella.” He said and moved to kneel in front of you.
As soon as his knees hit the tile, you pushed him out of the way and ran out of the shower, trying not to slip.
“I already told you, you cant get out, cara mia.” He called out to you.
You ignored him and tried the door to the bathroom. Wouldn't even budge. You didn't have your wand on you either since you were showering. Hands wrapped around your waist and you fought against him, kicking back to hit him, which just ended up making you both fall to the ground. He was much quicker than you, propping you on your knees so your face was down and ass up for him while he held your hands behind your back. You couldn't see him from this angle, but felt his tongue flick your clit, making you moan.
“You act like you don't want me, but your soaking, cara mia.” He said before licking and sucking at your clit.
Your words died in your throat, replaced by a moan leaving your mouth instead.
“Your body knows what it wants, amore mio.” He licked up to your entrance, prodding his tongue inside.
“Fuck.” You moaned, eyes rolling back before closing.
He moaned against you and kept his onslaught of pleasure on your pussy until you came.
“That's my good girl. That's what I wanted.” He said as he helped ride out your high.
“To force yourself on me?” You asked as you caught your breath once the orgasm faded.
“To make you feel good, principessa.” He shuffled behind you a bit as he kept a hand holding yours down still. You could hear the sound of his pants being undone.
“I think there could've been another way to fuck me that didn't involve stalking and harassing me.” It probably wasn't a smart move to mouth off to your stalker, but you were so angry. You pulled your hands out of his grip and tried taking off, but he just grabbed your legs, making you fall back on your stomach.
“I think you like this, though. I see how soaked you are from this.” He pulled you back onto your knees and held onto both your wrists with both of his hands. His cock teased your entrance, coating it in your arousal.
“You think I like you forcing yourself on me?” You said, hissing from how sensitive you were when he nudged your clit.
“You haven't told me to stop.” He said before thrusting into you, immediately bottoming out and making you cry out. “You're practically dripping from how wet you are for me, cara mia.”
You couldn't even deny that, maybe you were crazy, but you were embarrassingly wet from all this.
He started thrusting in and out of you, his grip on your wrists tight, bruises will probably form later from all of this.
“Not even trying to fight back anymore. You finally accepting that you're enjoying this?” He asked, letting go of your wrists to grab your hips. “Or maybe I got you too cockdrunk on me. Is that it? Am I making you feel so good you can't talk?” His voice was condesending.
“Fuck off.” You said, clawing at the floor to grip something.
“You love testing me, principessa. I don't mind. I'm happy to put you in your place each time.” He said and you could practically hear the smile in his voice. “You can stop acting like you hate this. I can feel you clenching my cock like you can't get enough of it.”
“As if.” You said between moans. He was hitting you so deep and fast, it had another orgasm building quickly.
“Keep talking like that and next time I'll have to punish you, amore mio.” He said, moving a hand from your hip to grip your hair. “How about you be a good girl instead and cum on my cock for me, yeah?”
“Fuck, shit!” You cried out, so close to cumming.
“Scream my name when you cum. Wanna hear how it sounds from those pretty lips.” He groaned, he was getting close himself. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful, principessa.”
You came around him, trembling as his name fell from your lips over and over.
“That's the most beautiful sound I've ever fucking heard. Shit!” He said before moaning, his hips stilling as he came inside you, filling your pussy with his cum.
He pulled out as you both caught your breaths and stood back up, quickly redoing his pants before pulling out his wand and undoing the spells. He left the bathroom without another word to you as you slowly got up and went back to the shower to scrub the filth of what you'd done off of you.
And hopefully convince yourself that you didn't enjoy that.
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cupcakeslushie · 2 days
Note
For your brainwash au, do we get so see exactly how Donnie got captured by Kendra? And would this au be a full comic or just bits and pieces here and there? (Not pressuring just curious) Love the au and I hope you’re having a good day! :)
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Don’t know why, but I felt like writing this part out instead of drawing it! (Sorry for bad grammar. I wrote this lying in bed, sleep deprived and did no editing)
——
The sad, pained look on his little brother’s face is enough to set off that dark protective fire in Donatello’s belly. And Michael has been a tiny storm of negative emotions since Leo slapped the small cast on his ankle. Donnie may not be able to pick apart and decipher all of the subtitles his brother is feeling right now, but he knows he’s in pain, and that’s enough.
“How many strips of bacon do you think we can get from Meat Sweat’s corpse?” Donnie ponders as he wraps an arm around his little brother’s shoulders, and carefully pulls him closer. Mikey lets out a quiet huff, but the joke doesn’t land the way Donnie had been hoping.
“Michael?”
“I’m okay,” Mikey assures. Then a hesitant second later adds, “it’s stupid.”
“Oh well if it’s stupid, allow me to grab ‘Nardo. He might be able to help you better.”
That gets the laugh he was looking for.
“I’m not in pain or anything. It’s just, tonight was the midnight signing of Joshua Bear’s new cook book. He’s a YouTuber chef that I’ve been following for years, and I went to his first release…I really wanted the second for my collection.”
Donatello does vaguely remember Angelo telling Raph something about this event last night, during dinner. He’d been so excited, and now he looks crushed at the idea of missing it.
“What if I went?” At the suggestion, Mikey’s face becomes brighter than a super nova, almost too bright for Donnie to stare at directly. It takes a moment for Michael to really calm down enough to speak.
“You’d really go wait in line for three hours? Just to get a book?” Donatello laughs at the question. Any opportunity in which his brothers were interested in the world of literature, no matter the subject (except maybe geology) was a time to be supportive.
Mikey pulls him in for a tight hug, and holds up his phone to snap a picture of them. Donnie snorts and slides out of his little brother’s hammock, careful not to disturb it too much. Mikey is already bouncing enough that he’s in danger of falling out.
“Yes, yes. Sing my praises on all your media socials. Let the world know how I’m your favorite older sibling!” Mikey drops the phone to his chest and holds his arms up, practically vibrating for one more hug. Donnie complies. He’s long given up maintaining his bad boy image when it’s just the two of them.
“You’re the best, Donnie! Really!” The words do a hell of a job replacing that previous fury he’d been harboring, the smile and warmth coming from Mikey, now fully restored. The proper order of the universe righted with a simple solution. This was what he loved most about being a brother. Fixing his siblings problems, in any way he could. And if healing the broken bone outright was (for now) out of his control—at least he could do this.
Donnie glances at his watch and notes he should get going if the turn out is going to be as big as Angelo predicts. He sneaks past the living room where he can hear his other two brethren yelling over a game of Mario Kart. He has zero interest in either of his brothers tagging along. He loves them, but neither are suited to standing in a long line for hours. For the last Jupiter Jim reboot, Donatello was seconds away from a double fratricide before they were even allowed into the theater.
Besides. He’s practically 18 (in four months). He can run up to the surface for a few hours, without having to call upon the archaic buddy system.
———
He’s in line for about an hour, when he sees suspicious movement out the corner of his eye. A young woman, parting the line a little ways ahead from where he stands, walks quickly into the closest alley. That alone might be no cause for alarm—maybe it’s a short cut. But the tall, hooded creep trailing after her, has his metaphorical hackles rising. It’s a clear case of sinister intentions. He quickly glances around to see if anyone else has witnessed this, but he’s the only one who seems to be showing any type of concern. Typical New York.
“What a town” Donnie sighs. He doesn’t bother asking the old man behind him to save his spot, seeing as he’s practically at the end of the line, and quickly races to the alley to play hero.
It’s a deep one, the lights of the street not quite hitting all the eerie nooks and crannies. Plenty of blind spots.
“Hello there? Stalker and or damsel in distress? Is anyone in need of assistance? Anyone hopefully bear maced and in need of a being escorted to the nearest precinct?”
No answer.
The non-existent hairs on Donnie’s arms stand straight up. Just as he’s reaching for his ninpo to materialize a bo-staff, something thick wraps around his neck from behind. The arm is almost as big as Raphael’s, if lacking in the muscle department.
But before his can break the hold, the solid feeling of a needle slides into the meat of his neck and something rushes into his veins. Within seconds he’s released and stumbling from the lack of support.
Someone is talking to him. It takes a second of his gaze bouncing around to pick them out. Mildly embarrassing, considering they’re standing right in front of him now. Out of all the colors popping in and out of his vision, Donnie only just catches the same turquoise hoodie that seemed to belong to the unassuming young woman.
A honey pot trap, he realizes, stumbling and falling pathetically backwards on his own ass.
He sees pink hair and is almost relieved, if humiliated. With all their enemies, the Purple Dragons are D tier. But the chances he can free himself before his brothers even notice his absence is high. Just the thought of the savage teasing he would be forced to endure if his brothers found out—Donatello is not eager to hear any of it.
As the nauseating colors finally bleed away, and start to leave black growing in their wake, Donatello swears to cause a big explosion on his way out.
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toxophilitis · 3 days
Text
Spread, Auntie, Spread
CHAPTER FOUR
It was late when Lori woke up.
The first thing that came to her was the smell of breakfast and perking coffee. She grinned and stretched, her body feeling good. She thought of her niece and nephew preparing breakfast for her. They are such sweet little darlings, she thought as she threw her feet over the bed and stood up.
She pulled a robe on and went to the kitchen. Janice and Stevie were just placing breakfast on the table. She stood and looked at them, smiling. Janice was wearing a pair of tight shorts, and her sweet little ass was cute and saucy. Her asscheeks were boldly exposed by the tightness of the shorts, and Lori wondered how she had managed to wear something as revealing as that around her mother and father.
Stevie was dressed in pants and shirt, sneakers on his feet. She looked at the front of his pants and was disappointed because they weren't tight enough to mold his cock. She pulled her robe tighter and belted it at her waist. Even though it was belted, the top was loose and the creamy swells of her tits were exposed almost to her nipples.
Janice and Stevie grinned knowingly at her as she sat down at the table. Lori saw the grins passed between them, and somehow she realized they had been talking. She was sure Janice had told her brother about how Lori had licked her cunt and that Stevie had told his sister about fucking her and how she had sucked his cock off. She was surprised to find it did not embarrass her at all. On the contrary, she was pleased that they had talked about it.
She finished breakfast and sipped her coffee. She watched Janice and Stevie closely, knowing that all she had to do now was wait for them to start making passes at her again. As she helped Janice with the dishes, she that Marty was supposed to fuck her this evening. That would have to be called off now. He could still visit but there could not be any fucking, not with her niece and nephew there. If he knew what she had done with them, there was no telling what he would say.
Marty loved nothing more than fucking, she knew. In fact, it had been their mutual desire for fucking that brought them together. They enjoyed each other's body, but there was no intention on either part of becoming serious.
Finishing in the kitchen, Lori and Janice entered the living room where Stevie had gone. He was lying on the floor on his back, staring at the ceiling. Lori knew she should get dressed, but again she hut it off.
She sat on the couch, crossing her legs. The robe parted and her creamy thighs were exposed almost to her hips. Stevie glanced at them, grinning widely. Janice, too, grinned. There was no conversation as Lori grinned back at them.
These two are up to something, she thought, feeling anticipation building inside her body. She knew they were up to something when she saw Stevie's cock swelling inside his pants. And he was making no effort to conceal his hard-on from his sister.
"All right, you two," she said. "What's going on here?"
"Nothing, Aunt Lori," Stevie replied. "Nothing at all."
"Bull shit," Lori snorted, drawing the robe over her thighs. "I can tell by those, impish expressions."
With a giggle, Janice dropped to the floor next to her brother. Lori's eyes widened when she saw Janice make a grab for his cock.
"Hey!" she gasped. "We can't have that going on here. You two kids better be careful."
But Janice and Stevie paid no attention to her. Janice, still giggling, opened her brother's pants and pulled his prick out. Lori gazed at them, feeling heat starting to bubble between her thighs. Janice stroked her brother's cock, then lifted her eyes and looked at her aunt.
"I like to play with Stevie's cock, Aunt Lori. It gets so hard!"
"How long has this been going on?" Lori asked, smiling with excitement.
They didn't answer her. Janice stroked her fist up and down her brother's cock, her eyes shining brightly as she sat there, her knees up, spread wide. Lori saw the outline of her sweet little cunt through the tightness of her shorts.
"Wanna watch me fuck Stevie?" Janice asked in an excited voice. "Aunt Lori, do you wanna see me fuck my brother?"
Lori's heart was hammering with excitement. This was much more than she had expected. She had not expected to have both at the same time, and here was the opportunity being handed to her, and she had made no effort to bring it about at all.
It was as thought Janice and Stevie had known what she wanted from them from the beginning. She had no idea they were so erotic, so enthusiastic about fucking. They had not shown any interest in sex before, not when they were with her. Again she had the strange feeling that something was going on that she was unaware of.
Janice turned loose of her brother's cock and stood up, stripping her tight shorts down with a lot of wiggling of her curvy little ass. She dropped her shorts on the floor, still wearing the blouse. She stood there in her half-naked beauty, rubbing her sparsely-haired cunt as Stevie slipped his pants off.
Lori could hardly believe what she was seeing. Janice lay down on the floor, her slim legs spread wide as her brother slipped between them. His cock was throbbingly hard, and Lori watched with hot eyes as he slipped his swollen prick heed into his sister's cunt.
Janice made a soft squeal of pleasure as Stevie's cock entered her pussy, and she lifted her naked little ass for him. Stevie stayed on his knees so Lori could watch his cock go all the way into his sister's almost-hairless pussy. Then he lay on top of her, his naked ass pounding up and down. Janice gurgled with pleasure as she twisted and writhed her saucy ass beneath him.
Lori's cunt trembled with lust as she watched her niece and nephew fuck. Her tits swelled and her sensitive nipples pressed at her robe. She could not stand the tension and pulled the top of her robe away, revealing her creamy pointed tits.
Lori drew her feet to the cushions, of the couch and spread her knees, opening the belt of the robe. She sat there naked, watching the two kids fucking. Her hairy cunt was fully exposed to their hot eyes, and she could not resist fingering her pussy. She rubbed and pinched at her swollen clit as she stared at brother fucking sister.
As he fucked his cock into his sister's tender pussy, Stevie watched his aunt fingering her hairy cunt, his eyes bright with excitement. Janice, too, turned her head to watch Lori.
Janice was gasping with the pleasure her brother's cock was giving her. She ran her hands down and clawed at Stevie's ass, her own hips churning furiously.
"Ohhhhh, I love it when Stevie fucks me, Aunt Lori," she mewled. "I love his cock in my cunt, fucking me!"
Lori groaned with desire and thrust a finger deep into her cunt as she watched them. It was a beautiful sight to her, seeing those two, half-naked, young bodies squirming and fucking frantically.
"Janice has a tight cunt, Aunt Lori!" Stevie grunted as he fucked into his sister's pussy. "Her cunt is tight and hot and wet... just like yours!"
Lori began to fuck her finger into her boiling cunt faster, her eyes glazed as she watched them fuck. She gazed at Stevie's naked ass bouncing up and down and could not back off any longer. She slipped from the couch, letting her robe fall away. Nakedly she knelt on the floor next to them, her hands running over her nephew's clenching asscheeks. She slipped a hand beneath Janice's twisting ass.
"Ohhh, Stevie," she hissed hotly. "Fuck her, baby! Fuck your sister's hot little cunt! Ohhh yes, Stevie! Fuck her tight little pussy!"
Lori lowered her face to his ass and began to kiss hotly at his bouncing ass cheeks. Her tongue, snaked out and licked his asscheeks as he fucked his cock into his sister's cunt. Lori's tongue licked down the back of his thighs, her hand gripping one asscheek. She squeezed at the small tight asscheek of her niece, her tongue furiously licking Stevie's flesh.
Lori felt Janice reaching between her thighs for her cunt and spread her knees. "Ohhh, yes, Janice! Feel me! Feel my cunt... fuck Stevie and feeling up my aunt, Janice. Fingerfuck my cunt!"
Janice fucked her finger into her aunt's steaming pussy, fucking it in and out. Lori spread her legs wider and twisted her ass, her lips and tongue running frantically about her nephew's bouncing, naked ass. From her position, Lori saw, with glassy eyes, her nephew's balls banging against Janice's upturned ass, his throbbing cock fucking her.
Lori was so excited she could hardly keep her mouth on Stevie's wiggling ass. She lifted her face, standing on her knees, her own ass grinding as Janice finger-fucked her furiously. Lori's eyes, although glazed by passion, watched her nephew's cock fucking in and out of his sister's cunt. Janice's delicate pink pussy lips clung to Stevie's cock tightly and hotly.
"Oooooh, Stevie," she hissed thickly, "fuck her! Oh, God, baby, fuck your sister's hot little cunt! Feed her hungry hot cunt that hard cock, Stevie! Oooooh, that's beautiful! Fuck her, fuck her good!"
Lori grabbed her own swollen tits, hot fingers digging into the sensitive flesh. She looked down her body and churned her hips on her niece's fucking finger. She had never felt so aroused, so damned hot, in a long time. Her pussy was closing about the fucking finger, clamping it tightly as Janice gurgled in pleasure.
"I think I'm gonna come!" Stevie yelled, fucking faster into his sister's cunt. "Ohhhh, Janice! I'm gonna come! Oh... ohhhh!"
"Okay!" Janice squealed, her ass churning in a frenzy as her brother fucked his cock deep, then held it there. "Do it, Stevie! Come in me! Oooooh, come inside my cunt!"
Stevie grunted and his body shook, spewing come juice into his sister's gripping pussy. Janice was no longer fucking her finger into her aunt's cunt but was holding it still. That didn't matter, because Lori was coming in waves of pleasure, her pussy sucking at the still-buried finger.
Janice uttered a long wail, and her small body shivered. She gurgled incoherently as she came, her ass twitching. Then she slumped to the floor, her hand pulling away from Lori's crotch. Stevie slipped his cock from his sister's cunt and sat on the floor, leaning against the couch, breathing raggedly.
Lori sat down, a huge smile of satisfaction on her beautiful face. "Oh, you kids!" she murmured.
Later, after a long bubble bath, Lori dressed for her date with Marty. She had told Janice and Stevie that she was expecting a visitor and that they should be on their best behavior, not to be pests, and under no circumstances were they to show any sexual interest, either toward each other, her or Marty.
There was still a little over an hour to go before Marty was to arrive, so Lori spent a little longer fussing with her silky hair. She had put on a full skirt and blouse, nylons with a garter belt.
She was standing in the bedroom, her foot up on the bed, straightening her nylons. Her skirt was pulled back to expose her creamy thigh. She was not aware that Stevie was watching her from the doorway. When she noticed his presence, she yelped in surprise.
Stevie had stood in the doorway watching his aunt, becoming excited by the exposure of her thigh. Finally he sneaked in behind her and dropped to his knees before she knew he was there. He quickly lifted her dress from behind and shoved his face upwards, directly into her cunt, kissing it.
"Why, you little shit!" she said, but not in anger.
"Don't move, Aunt Lori," he said, running his hands up and down her nyloned thighs. He loved the creamy flesh above the tops of them, and he loved her smooth ass, naked beneath her full dress. "I wanna kiss you!"
Lori, with one foot propped on her bed, felt his hot, wet mouth kissing at the swells of her asscheeks. His tongue was licking and the trail of moisture it left on her flesh sent thrills racing through her. Her cunt began to pulsate hotly, and, as she stood on one foot, trembling, she wondered if she would ever get enough sex. All it took was a touch, a caress, a kiss... and her cunt was wet and ready.
Stevie's hands were on her thighs, his lips on her ass cheeks. Lori mewled softly. "Ohhhh, baby! I love that! Oh, your lips are so hot... so wet! Mmmmmm, kiss it, Stevie! Oh, God, kiss my ass!"
Lori wiggled her ass as his tongue licked along the flesh of her thighs above the nylons, the tip tracing the crease where her thighs met her asscheeks. The flesh of her ass was moist now from his licking tongue, and she arched backwards into his face.
Stevie's tongue slipped along her thickly haired cunt lips, licking each puffy pussy lip in turn. Lori crooned as she felt his tongue moving around her crotch. She felt it lap about her swollen clit, then Stevie fucked his tongue into her pussy. Lori shuddered as sudden ecstasy rippled through her, her eyes closing as the pleasure flowed like liquid honey through her veins.
Stevie fucked his tongue in and out of his aunt's cunt swiftly, then licked at her sensitive pussy lips again. He moved his hands between her thighs and, using his fingers, pulled her cunt lips apart. Then his tongue shot deep into her pussy.
Lori was not balanced very well, but she thrust her ass back, grinding her cunt into his fucking mouth, whimpering with pleasure. The hot breath fanning about her ass sent chills flashing through her. She pulled her skirt high, leaning over and peering between her thighs, watching his chin as he tongue-fucked her pussy. She could see the lump of his cock inside his pants, and wished she could get her hot hands on his prick. But as this desire was going through her, her cunt was boiling towards orgasm.
"Oooooh, Stevie!" she whimpered. "Oh, God! I'm going to come, Stevie! Oh, lick me... lick my cunt, baby! Fuck my cunt with your tongue! I'm going to come! Fuck it... lick it... eat me!"
When she came, Lori shook so much she was afraid she would fall. His tongue fucked in and out of her turn aster pussy convulsed, clinging to it. One of his hands was on the cheek of her ass, the other gripping her hip. Lori had to lean over and brace herself on the bed with her hands, a movement that caused her ass to arch into the air even more than it already was.
Stevie pulled his tongue out of his aunt's cunt and raced it about the shivering cheeks of her ass, making Lori whimper in the glow of orgasm. He pushed harder.
She sprawled face down on the bed, her fingers clawing at the sheets, her ass writhing. Stevie shoved her skirt past her waist, and Lori felt his cock probing her cunt from behind.
"Oh, yes!" she mewled as she felt the swollen head of his cock fucking into her pussy. "Stick your cock in me, baby! Ohhh, fuck me, Stevie! Fuck me... I'm so hot now! I want that cock fucking my cunt!"
Lori arched her ass so he could get into her pussy easier. When his cock was deep inside, she began to pump her hips, fucking his cock with her, clinging cunt, listening to him grunt with pleasure.
He must have shoved his pants down, she thought. She could feel his hairless balls brushing at her clit. She arched her naked ass higher, writhing it as he fucked his cock faster and faster. She could feel his prick throbbing between the lips of her clutching cunt, feel his swollen cockhead going deep.
"Oh, my God!" she groaned. "Ohhh, I'm coming again! Ohhh, baby, baby! Fuck it! Fuck it! Ooooh, you're making me come again! Fuck me, Stevie! Fuck my hot, wet, hairy cunt! Oh, I love your hard cock fucking my cunt! I'm coming, coming!"
Stevie fucked hard into his aunt's convulsing pussy, his prick going deep. Lori felt his cock lurching inside her and then felt the sudden gush of his thick come juice. She wailed in pleasure as his cock spurted, his come juice splashing into her greedy cunt time and again.
She ground her ass back against him as he came, her pussy holding him tightly. She allowed her hips to fall to the bed when she knew he had finished, and he lay on top of her, heaving and gasping. Finally she moved.
"Get off me, Stevie," she said in a lazy voice. "I've got to repair the damage you've done to me before Marty gets here. Come on, get off."
Stevie reluctantly pulled his prick from her cunt. Lori turned onto her back, watching him as he pulled his pants up, his cock glistening from the juices of her pussy. She smiled lazily at him, running her tongue over her full, moist lips.
"You are one horny little shit, you know that, baby?"
He laughed at her, then leaned over and kissed her thigh above the nylon. "I know, Aunt Lori," he said. "And you're a hot-ass."
"You better fucking well believe it!" she laughed with him. "Now, get our little ass out of here so I can clean up. If you stay here, I might drag you back on this bed with me."
After he had gone, Lori undressed again and took a quick shower. She didn't have much time now, and she rushed through her shower.
She was wondering about her niece and nephew as she dressed again. They had certainly been a surprise for her since yesterday. Both Janice and Stevie were hot little kids. They felt no guilt about fucking each other and her. They felt no guilt about fucking each other and her. That pleased Lori. She didn't want them to feel ashamed. Perhaps it was better that she did not have to seduce them. If she had had to do that, she might have frightened them off, sent them running to her sister and brother-in-law.
She hummed happily as she brushed her hair. She had a full week to be with them, and she was going to make the most of it. She had been hot for her nephew for some time now, and she was going to take advantage of the situation even if she had to tell Marty to stay away.
Janice had been a surprise to her. Janice had never seemed like a girl with a hot little ass, certainly not a girl who would lick a aunt, let alone enjoy it. But it seemed that was the kind of girl Janice was.
Lori placed the brush back on the dresser. She wondered how long her niece and nephew had been fucking each other. From what Stevie had told her, he had been jacking that sweet cock off for some time thinking of her.
She was thinking about talking to the kids later that night when she heard the doorbell.
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xspeter · 1 day
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꥟ part of the “dancing with our hands tied” collection, Luke Castellan x Apollo!reader
꥟ IN WHICH… You discover that everyone at camp can tell.
꥟ W.C: 3k
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Capture the Flag is a camp staple. It’s practically what makes the camp what it is! The battle strategy, the team work, the training.. it was perfect.
“Explain to your idiot boyfriend that we should get the Aphrodite cabin because he already has the advantage!”
“Just because we have more campers doesn’t mean we have the advantage! How many times do I need to say that?”
Clarisse and Luke have this argument nearly every week. Always fighting about who gets what cabin, which battle strategies were ethical and which weren’t, that whole ordeal.
You just wish they’d stop including you in it. Especially when you’re trying to clean a little boy's scraped knees!
You sigh, shooting the Demeter child a sorry look, but he doesn’t notice. Instead, he’s got a huge smile on his face as he watches Luke and Clarisse bicker like siblings. “They’re silly!” He giggles.
You smile, placing a blue band-aid on his knee and helping him off the bed. “Yep. Sooo silly.”
He doesn’t spare you a second glance as he leaves, and you’re partially grateful and partially offended. You don’t linger on the thought though, instead focusing the rest of your attention on the two fuming teens.
“You already have half the cabins in camp! Just because our cabins bigger doesn’t mean you get to hog everyone!”
“We aren’t hogging everyone-”
You rub the bridge of your nose, annoyance building in your temples. Are they aware that this is still technically your place of work? You don’t hang out in the infirmary on the daily just for fun. As Apollo Head Counselor it was literally your job to be there, and they were just making it harder.
“Okay, guys, calm down-”
They don’t listen, instead just getting louder and louder. Some of the patients are starting to notice, and seeing as majority of them are younger kids, it makes them nervous. And nervous kids in medical settings? Never a good mix.
“Luke, you’re literally so stupid it shocks me that you’re even still alive.”
“Right, because I understand basic math and you don't, I'm the stupid one. Makes complete sense.”
You sigh, glancing at a little girl that has started fighting the medicine your brother was trying to give her. It’s already been a struggle to even get her to lay down, and they had disrupted any progress you guys had made.
“Can you guys stop yelling, please?” You strain, watching as another little boy begins to cry when Clarisse practically screams fuck you! at Luke.
Again, they ignore you, and you’re starting to wonder if they can even hear anything you're saying. You wouldn’t be surprised if not.
“You know what, Castellan? Why don’t you take your math, and shove it right up your-”
“Okay!” You intervene, grabbing them both by their wrists and dragging them out of the building. Honestly, you’re still not sure they’re processing anything you’re saying or doing, because the entire time you lead them outside they glare at each other like two children.
Once you’ve gotten a safe distance from the patients and any prying ears, you smack both of them upside the head. Clarisse yelps while Luke’s hand immediately goes to soothe the spot.
“Are you guys deaf or just plain selfish?” You ask, nostrils practically flaring. “I mean, did you not notice the patients in there or did you just not care? Because to me it seems like you just didn’t care!”
They both have the decency to look at least a little bit ashamed, and for some reason it almost makes you feel bad. You're not sure if it's because of the genuine guilt on both of their faces, or just your constant need to please. You’re betting on the latter.
Luke swallows, sharing a glance with Clarisse before both of their gazes fall to the floor. “We’re sorry.” Clarisse mumbles, rubbing her arm uncomfortably. To most, Clarisse was rude and rarely ever apologized, but that was just to the people she didn’t know.
If you really took the time to know her, you’d discover she was just as lost as the rest of you. And underneath that hard exterior, there was a sweet girl begging to be found. You just had to be willing to look for it.
Luke nods in agreement, “Really, really sorry.”
Your eyes dart between the two of them, arms crossing over your chest. Some part of you wants to continue raging on them, you feel like it’ll be a bit therapeutic. But, the more rational part of you knows how serious they take the game, and sometimes they just get too into it.
“It’s fine,” You mumble, sucking in a breath and dropping your arms to your sides again. “Just, explain to me again whatever it is you guys are mad about.”
They both go to speak at the same time, and you realize you should’ve been more specific with your wording. You put a hand up to stop them, and quickly say, “Without arguing.”
You don’t miss Clarisse’s eye roll, but you choose not to call her out on it. Luke glances at the dark haired girl, and she gestures for him to speak a bit more aggressively than you think was necessary.
He sighs, turning to you with a slight smirk. It was his signature one, the one that practically dropped trouble. “Basically, Clarisse wants the Aphrodite Cabin because they have more campers, but she already has more than half the cabins in camp. So, I think we should be able to keep the Aphrodite cabin.”
You nod, “Which cabins does Clarrise have?”
The Ares child answers, “Demeter, Hephaestus, Dionysus, and Ares- obviously.”
You assumed that meant the other cabins were on Luke’s team, and if that was true, that meant he had the majority of the bigger cabins. Which meant that Clarrise should get Aphrodite.
But, the puppy dog look on Luke’s face makes your heart skip a beat, and you wonder if maybe you could bend your morals for him. Just this once. It was just a game after all, right?
Unfortunately, Clarrise has this knowing look in her eyes, like she knows what you’re thinking. It makes you feel small, so you do your best to seem as nonchalant as possible and say, “Then Clarrise should get it. But, maybe give Luke Dionysus? Since there’s only two of them.”
A huge grin overtakes Clarisse’s face, and she sticks her tongue out at Luke. “Ha!” She shouts, pointing a finger in Luke’s face. “I knew your girlfriend would agree with me.”
Luke rolls his eyes, a slight blush overtaking his cheeks at the word girlfriend. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. We’re still gonna beat you.”
Clarisse just shrugs him off, shooting you a wink as she walks away. Your friendship with Clarisse definitely was unexpected considering your clashing personalities, but you loved the girl like a sister.
Luke sighs dramatically, bottom lip jutting out a bit as he crosses his arms over his chest. “You really couldn’t have just given them to me?” You snort, you know he’s not really angry with you, which is why you roll your eyes with a grin.
“Sadly, no.” You shrug, “Besides, we both know you’ll be able to win without them.” It was true, Luke’s quick thinking and obvious knack for battle strategy set him up for success. But, it was also pretty well known majority of the kids in the Aphrodite Cabin would rather spend their time braiding hair and gazing at themselves in puddles. So, you didn’t think it was that hard of a loss.
Luke chuckles, “Why? Because they’d rather stare at their reflection then actually play the game?”
You pretend to think, scratching your chin and gazing up at the sky. “Um, yeah, exactly my point.”
He snorts in response, allowing you to lead him back into the infirmity silently. You almost find it strange how he doesn’t even question you. Just… follows. “I didn’t think you’d be so stereotypical, Sweetheart.” He jokes.
You shrug, “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.”
Luke watches as you push the door open, immediately going to greet a waiting patient. She’s a little bit older, probably around Percy’s age, but you still talk to her gently and kindly. Still treat her like a little kid, but not in a condescending way.
Luke’s not sure how you manage it. It makes his heart flutter in his chest for reasons he can’t explain.
“Yeah.” He sighs, eyes trailing your every move. “You are.”
You didn’t particularly enjoy being stuck in the medical tent during capture the flag. Not because you wanted to actually play the game, no, but because you were completely alone.
Some of your siblings always offered to stay behind with you, but you never let them. They’d be miserable staying with you, even if they wouldn’t admit it. Thus, here you sat, alone.
It wasn’t all bad. You enjoyed the peace, a rare thing to get at Camp Half-Blood, and most of the campers were too hell-bent on winning to even bother stopping by. Which meant you got to enjoy the unusual serenity all by yourself.
The birds sing hymns that you don’t know the words to, and the leaves dance together like professional ballerinas. It’s all very beautiful, really.
At least it is until Percy Jackson rips through the trees, a wide smile on his face and his chest heaving. His eyes dart around the opening, before they finally land on you.
You're sat outside the tent, jean shorts surely stained an unflattering green color and shins covered in shards of grass.
“Oh! Good, you’re here.” Percy breathes, jogging over to you. You stand, doing your best to discreetly wipe at your butt.
“Yep. I’m..” You let out a sigh, “still here.”
Percy just sniffs, giggling a bit and bouncing on his toes. He looks like a little boy who’d just been told he could get his favorite candy from the store. “He got it.” He says.
You raise an eyebrow, “Who got what?”
“Luke got the flag.” He grins, “I’m supposed to wait here to make sure no Ares campers cross the threshold.”
You nod. The makeshift infirmary was placed directly on the invisible threshold, but you found it a little weird Luke would send Percy to lookout for incoming Ares campers here when majority of them would probably be somewhere deeper in the woods.
You knew that, and surely Luke knew that, which meant..
You give Percy a sympathetic look. It’s not his fault he gets… distracted so easily when playing the game, but you also understood how seriously Luke took this. It just sucked he resorted to lying to the kid instead of coming up with something else for him to do.
“I see,” You mumble, eyeing a small cut on Percy’s knee. “What if I patch that up while you wait?” You ask, gesturing to the cut with your chin.
Percy shakes his head, eyes never leaving the woods. “Can’t. Have to make sure no one crosses.”
You sigh, chewing on your bottom lip. Percy could be so stubborn, that’s probably why he and Annabeth got along so well. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Besides, it’s so quiet you’ll be able to hear them if they do. Just come inside, alright?”
Finally, Percy tears his gaze away from the open area to you, and he’s got that familiar glint in his eye. Percy’s smart, he always had been. And you weren’t the best liar. “What do you know?” He asks suspiciously, pointing an accusing finger at you.
You throw your hands up in surrender, shaking your head. “All I know is that you’re bleeding and it’s my job to take care of that, okay? So let me do my job.”
You can see the inner battle in Percy. He wants to stay out and do what Luke told him, but he also knows the cut on his knee stings like hell. He sighs, lowering his hand and glancing cautiously to the clearing. “Alright… but, promise if we hear anything you’ll let me go back out?”
You smile, “I promise.”
Seemingly satisfied, Percy allows you to lead him inside and begin your work. The floor in the tent was still grass, which meant the chair he was sitting in was quite unstable on the ground.
He rocked on it, eyes going wide when it leaned just a bit too far back. You snort when he does, and he sheepishly rubs his hand on the back of his neck.
You begin your work with no words exchanged between you, instead humming a familiar tune.
“That’s the song you sing at the campfire, right? Here comes the sun?”
You nod, glancing up at him. Percy smirks, hands messing with his helmet. “Luke said that was his favorite song, and I could never really understand why because it’s just… it feels odd to me for someone like him to like that song. But I think I understand why now.”
You’d like to pretend that Percy’s statement doesn’t make you go pink in the face, but it does. Luke said that was his favorite song? Of course, it didn’t automatically mean it was his favorite song because of you, but… it was nice to imagine, right?
“He did?” You ask, clearing your throat and trying to be as causal as possible. “And why do you think you know why? It could just be because it’s a catchy song.”
Percy shakes his head, “Nah. Trust me, it’s definitely not just because it’s catchy. It’s cause-”
The deafening sound of footsteps interrupts the both of you, and you both share a look before Percy is darting out of the tent and outside. You follow closely behind, a fresh pack of band-aids still in your hands.
Luke is leading a chase, with a giant red flag in his hands and a wide grin on his face. Dozens of campers follow him. Percy runs to them, jumping up and down and screeching something you can’t make out. Everyone is laughing, grinning. Everyone except for Luke.
His eyes look over the scene, looking for something you’re not sure of. It’s not until they land on you that it clicks. He was looking for you.
Instantly, he shoves the flag over to some unsuspecting kid and rushes over to you. It’s such an exhilarating feeling, being the person he looks for. You aren’t sure when that had happened, or what you had even done to deserve it- you just know you’ll thank The Gods everyday for allowing it.
Luke’s arms wrap around your waist, engulfing you in a bone-crushing hug. Instantly, your senses are overrun by everything Luke. You can feel him, smell him, practically taste him with how close he is. It’s too much and not enough all at the same time.
Your arms wrap around his neck, dropping the pack of band-aids in the grass and standing on your toes. You grin into his neck, “I knew you’d win.”
Luke snorts, giving you one final squeeze and backing away, but his hands remain at your waist. It makes you feel faint. “It was nothing, really.” He says with a shrug.
You furrow your brows, unconvinced. You know Luke is more than proud of his accomplishment, so why was he acting so easy going right now?
“Is that so?” You ask, swaying on your feet. “So, you aren’t going to be bragging to Clarisse for the next week about how you beat her?”
He scoffs, shaking his head. “Oh, no, of course I am. But, I can’t say that in front of a pretty girl can I? Gotta play it smooth.” He squeezes your waist as he says it, and your cheeks instantly fluff. A pretty girl. He was calling you a pretty girl.
Compliments from Luke were hardly rare, but he never said them in front of so many prying eyes. And it’s then that you notice everyone staring at the two of you, most all have knowing smirks on their faces, but some look on in jealousy. You hate to admit that it almost makes you prideful.
You were the only one Luke ran too- the one he looked for. That had to mean something, didn’t it?
You look away from him, rolling your eyes and shoving at him playfully. “Shut up, you flirt.”
He pretends to look hurt, giving you his best puppy dog eyes and grasping at his chest. “Oh, how you wound me!”
You giggle and open your mouth to respond, but Clarisse's familiar screech of anger interrupts you. “Where is he?”
You raise your brows, watching as Luke winces. While he would be claiming bragging rights for the rest of the week, being around her right now definitely wasn’t the best idea.
You suck in a breath, whistling lowly. “I think you’d better run.”
Luke’s lips thin into a line, tilting his head. “Yeah. Probably.” But, he doesn’t move. Instead, he just stares down at you. You raise your eyebrows in confusion, “Are you going to go?” You ask.
Luke grins slyly, “Yeah, just one more thing..”
It���s then that you feel the familiar warmth of Luke’s lips on your cheek, suspiciously close to your mouth. But, just as soon as he was there, he was gone. Running off and leaving you flustered and alone.
Your hands intertwine in front of you, a large cheesy grin on your face. You turn and begin walking back to the tent to clean up, but everyone’s eyes on you stops you. You glance down at your clothes, and then feel your face, checking for something- anything.
When you don’t find anything, you let out a nervous laugh. “What…?”
Everyone shares a look, one that you know all too well. You let out a groan, hands running through your hair, “It’s not like that!”
Percy shakes his head, “Yeah, okay. Of course it’s not.”
You just roll your eyes and storm into the tent. They were seeing things that just weren’t there! Luke was your best friend, and it was normal for best friends to be affectionate!
Hugs, compliments, cheek kisses… there was nothing else going on. Luke was just your friend being happy to see you.
That was all.
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taglist: @apolloscastellan @ddarling-ddearest-ddead
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sugar-coat-it · 2 days
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Know It's For The Better
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If this has already been done I apologize, the concept is probably not super original LOL
CW: Girlie is drunk!!
Fem! Reader
Contains: George’s younger sister! Reader, Matty taking care of drunk girlie, mutually secret pining, SICKLY amount of yearning, they’re so in love but so stupid :(, reader is turned down because she’s drunk, sad sad sad 
WC: ~4,300
—----------------------------
You get too drunk and Matty comes to take care of you. The lines of a longtime friendship are blurred. 
—----------------------------
“C’mon…” Matty mutters, keeping you supported with an arm under your shoulders as he leads you out of the bar. 
“Matty? Matty, what are you doing here, you’re supposed to be… doing music…” you giggle, almost tripping over your own feet as you lean into him. 
“Yeah, I should be doing music, but right now I’m looking out for you,” he says, shaking his head as you laugh at nothing in particular, “you really got yourself into a mess tonight, hm?”
“What do you mean?”
Your brows furrow as you look up at him, pouting like you still don’t fully understand why he’s here. Matty uses one hand to open his car door, the other firmly wrapped around you. He shoots you a look, his eyebrows almost raising high enough to meet his hairline. There are a few beats of silence like he’s allowing you a moment to realize how ridiculous the question is. Your blank stare tells him all he needs to know. 
“I mean you’re plastered,” he sighs, helping you into the car seat, your lack of balance making it somewhat difficult. 
“Ohh… yeah,” you nod in agreement that you are in fact plastered, shitfaced, sloshed, and whatever he’d like to call it. 
You slump back against the seat as your eyes flutter shut, smiling to yourself as you relish in the warmth of being so totally wasted, the world spinning just slightly. Matty is silent as he rounds the car to get into the driver's seat, now reaching to strap in your seat belt. You crack your eyes open just enough to catch the clench of his jaw. 
“Andrea told me on the phone that you begged her not to call your brother to come and get you. Which is why I’m here instead,” he explains, not seeming too impressed. 
Right. Your brother, George. That was the last person you wanted to come and get you, already knowing the lecture that would come with it. You vaguely remember insisting that Andrea call Matty instead, knowing he’d take good care of you like he always has. He glances over at you to make sure you’re still upright as he starts his car, the engine rumbling to life with a purr.
 The drive is quiet as you stare out of the windshield, watching the street lights streak across the night like they’re melting. His hand moves across the center console to turn on the radio, the station already being set to his favorite, indie classics. He never did like silence, Matty fills it any way he can. 
“What were you drinking anyways, darling?” he asks, sounding more curious than patronizing.
You love that about Matty. He’s older than you and certainly protective of you, but he doesn’t always fault you for wanting to act your age, for doing something on the wilder side. Some might call it a bad influence, he prefers “learning from the best”. 
“Umm,” you squint like you’re trying to remember what was in the shots, “tequila.”
“Tequila! Wow, you really went for it, didn’t you?” he chuckles before clicking his tongue, knowing damn well that you only drink tequila when you’re trying to crash and burn. 
You frown, sensing a slightly frustrated lilt in his voice. Maybe you had actually gone too far this time. You shift your body to face him, your cheek smushed against the headrest. Your stomach lurches at the idea of him being upset with you, especially since you’d been tying yourself in knots since you were a teen to appeal to him, to be the kind of girl he would want. Suddenly, you’re 17 again and you’re staring at yourself in the mirror, picking apart every piece of yourself that you think he wouldn’t like. Over and over. Anything for him to notice you. Your face is illuminated ruby by the traffic lights, the car rolling to a stop. Matty drums his fingers against the steering wheel in time with the soft beat of the radio. 
“Are you mad?” you mumble, your chin tilting down slightly as you struggle to keep your head up. 
“Mad?” Matty echoes, his eyes snapping to you with a newfound softness, a vastness of gentle, honey brown, “No, no, I just- what got into you tonight?” 
Relief washes over you like the gentlest wave, you know even if he was mad, he couldn’t stay that way, not when you’re draped over his passenger’s seat. You’re proudly self-proclaimed to be his weak spot, it’s always been that way. A dazed smile pulls at your lips at the confirmation, and he just playfully rolls his eyes, turning his attention back to the road. 
“I dunno. Was just having fun,” you shrug, toying with the strap of your seatbelt. 
Matty knows better, but he doesn’t push for more details. Not yet anyway. You can practically see his thoughts racing as he stares at the yellow lines of the street, his lips pressed into a thin line. But, he can pick your mind about why you got so drunk later, right now he’s trying to focus on the main task: getting you home and safely in bed. He’s already mentally mapping where you keep your Tylenol so he can leave some on your nightstand for you before he goes. Now comes the fun part as he parks his car in front of your apartment building, he gets to take you up the stairs. Joy. 
It’s a slow process, Matty instructing you to hold on tight and “don’t fucking let go, you’ll crack your pretty head open”. You laugh like it’s the most well-crafted joke he’s ever told but still abide by his word. Your giggles ring through the stairwell, a bright sound like a melody to Matty’s ears. One step at a time, you make your way up the stairs, successfully keeping your head in one piece with his hold keeping you steady. When did he get so strong? You almost wish there were just a few more steps so his hands could stay on you, ringed fingers firmly pressed into your skin. 
“Stay with me here, we’re gonna get you to bed, okay?” he reassures, looking over at you every couple of seconds.
“Nooo, wait, I don’t wanna go to bed. I’m not tired,” you complain, protesting with pursed, glossy lips.
“Not tired, huh? You were about seconds away from nodding off in the car,” he chuckles, giving your shoulder an affectionate squeeze. 
He doesn’t bother with letting you aimlessly fish through your purse for your keys once you reach your front door, taking the bag from you to stick his hand in and retrieve them. Matty keeps you steadily at his side as he unlocks the door, slinging the strap of your purse over his shoulder. The door pushes open with a creak and he ushers you inside, the hand on your lower back sending a shiver skittering up your spine. He follows behind you, watching as you wobble your way to the couch instead of to your bedroom. He rakes a hand through his curls streaked with gray before pressing his fingers into his temples, knowing this night was going to be longer than expected. You drop down onto the cushions with your head tilted back, a lazy smile plastered on your face. 
“Darling, bed is this way, you can’t sleep on the couch,” he says gently, placing your purse down on your coffee table.
You ignore him as he approaches you, instead frowning as you reach to soothe your fingers over the red marks marred into your heels from your shoes. Without missing a beat and without a word, Matty drops to his knees in front of you, batting your hands away from your feet. He carefully undoes the straps of your heels, nimble fingers grazing your skin. You can’t help but stare at the spectacle of Matty Healy being on his knees before you, his muss of curls shadowing his tired eyes as he works. He places both heels to the side after sliding them off, giving your knee a pat before he stands up to his full height. Immediately, you grasp the sleeve of his button-down shirt, like the thought of him being any further away is unbearable. 
“Stay? Chat with me. I’d like to chat,” you suggest, your fingers curling into the crisp fabric. 
“You’re unbelievable, really,” he mutters, shaking his head, “Fine. But we’re not falling asleep here, okay?”
You nod eagerly, you’d agree to any terms he set as long it meant he’d stay. Matty sits down next to you, allowing you to curl up against him with your head resting on his shoulder, your arms loosely around him. A tentative hand snakes up your back to your arm, holding you there as he stares forward, knowing his heart might burst if he looks down at you all cozied up to him. His thumb gently strokes up and down against your skin, like he’s confining himself from touching you any more than just that. Matty asks if he can get you anything, but you decline, not needing anything other than this moment. Who were you to ask for more? The gentle rhythm is lulling you into a bit of a daze, but you force your eyes to stay open to have the privilege of gazing upon him when he’s so close. So warm. So real. You find yourself studying his features, half-lidded eyes searching his face. 
“I think I’m jealous of you,” you admit, your voice low. 
Matty lets out a gasping sort of laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners with mirth. What on earth were you on about? 
“Jealous of me? Why?” he smiles, an amused glint in his eyes.
“You’re so beautiful.”
Matty’s expression changes, shifting into something you can’t quite read. His lips part with surprise, but his words catch in his throat. You move your head off of his shoulder to get a better view of him, reaching out slowly to cup his face as you shift your body. His hand on your arm keeps you steady, knowing you could easily topple over. You’ve never been so bold as to touch him this way in your whole life. Matty clears his throat, a crooked smile forming on his lips. 
“Guys can’t be beautiful, sweetheart,” he says. 
Oh, but they can. You’ve been quietly admiring his beauty for so long, how could he say such a thing? You’ve watched him change over time, seen him grow from a gangly, unsure, freckle-faced thing to a confident man who slicks back his unruly hair and wears button-down shirts instead of faded band tees. You thought every version of him was beautiful in his own way. 
Silently, you take one of your hands and begin to trace the features of his face, delicately drawing your fingertips along the bridge of his nose, the slope of his forehead, and the slight rosy hue of his cheeks. Every bit of him is perfection to you. He opens his mouth like he’s about to question what you’re doing, his eyebrows drawing together, but he doesn’t make a sound. He just stares back at the focused look on your face, noticing your quiet wonderment, your gentle, sparkling adoration. It’s like you’re dissecting him, and it’s making him feel so exposed to you like you’ve stripped him of everything right to his very soul. He tells himself that you’re just drunk, you don’t mean any of it, but that doesn’t change the way his heart is intensely thrumming against his ribs faster and faster. No one had ever touched him that way before, so delicately, and he certainly hadn’t expected to like it so much. He feels like he could melt right into the cushions. He loves you. Loves you loves you loves you. 
You let out a satisfied hum as you finish, sliding your hands off of his cheeks and down onto his chest instead, absentmindedly drawing little swirls with your nails against his shirt. His body shudders just slightly at the feeling, a tingly sensation erupting under your touch. 
“You done feeling up my face and shit?” he teases, trying to play off how you’ve just flustered him to his bones. 
You just beam at him, haziness written all over your expression as you let your head drop to his shoulder again. You chat a little longer about trivial things, Matty keeping the conversations simple so you can keep up. He asks you if your favorite color is still the same as it was when you were younger. When you mutter out a “yes”, suddenly, it’s like his whole world has been painted with it. You smile to yourself that he even remembered. His fingers gently trail up and down your arm, almost like his fingertips are ghosting over your skin. A few beats of silence pass before Matty goes for the heart of the issue, the question like a bucket of water over your head. 
“Are you gonna tell me why you actually got so wasted?” he murmurs, glancing at you through the corner of his eye. 
“... Was just feeling… sorta lonely, or something. Sorry for myself, and all that,” you sigh, not entirely sure why you’re telling him something that sounds so pathetic, but your words are tumbling out faster than you can process them. 
Matty hums thoughtfully, feeling as you bury yourself further into his neck, like you’re trying to hide from him, from reality. He knows he’s dampening your fun a little, reminding you of why it all happened, but he just couldn’t leave it alone, not when he knew you were hurting. You distract yourself by drawing small, languid swirls on his chest, the beat of his heart keeping you grounded.
“What happened? I thought you were fiercely independent. A one-woman show,” he snickers, thinking back to the exasperation he was met with when he’d asked why you were still single (“I don’t need a boyfriend to be happy, Matty. I have aspirations, you know. I’m focused on more important things,” you’d preached.)
When you say nothing in response, the realization creeps up on him that teasing you isn’t the right approach at the moment. Clearly, even you weren’t above the lamentations of the heart. You didn’t need a jab at how your fierce independence was what led you to bed alone every night. He swallows thickly, as if literally swallowing his pride before he speaks again, his tone laced with what you could only label as tenderness from the normally brash man.
“What’s been on your mind?” 
“I’m gonna fucking die alone,” you groan, covering your face with your hands, having totally forgotten that you were wearing makeup. 
He stifles a laugh, both at how you’ve smudged your eyeliner and because of your intoxicated overreaction. Obviously, this wasn’t a joke to you, and he needed to get this right. He raises his hand slowly, brushing stray strands of hair away from your face. Your stomach swoops, you swear you’ve seen this in a dream before. 
“You’re a lovely girl, sweetheart. Anyone who doesn’t see that is either stupid or blind. You’ll find what you’re looking for, and you won’t die alone, silly,” he says, punctuating the word “silly” with a poke to your side. 
A lovely girl. He thought you were a lovely girl. One that wouldn’t die alone. That’s… comforting, you suppose, even if it’s in an odd way. Part of you wonders if you’ll die with your feelings for him held close to your chest. The other part isn’t sure if you could truly hide it that long, or if your devotion would spill from your clutches like water between your fingers. Would he drink it from your palms if it did? 
“Do you ever get lonely, Matty?” you ask in return, your words slightly slurred. 
Matty pauses. Seemingly, he didn’t expect this to be turned around on him. He makes an awkward “erm” sound as he evaluates the question. With countless adoring fans, many of them being gorgeous women, how could he ever feel alone? It wouldn’t make any sense. So why does the void never go away? Why does coming home after throwing himself into his work at the studio feel so totally melancholic? He’s supposed to be living his dream.
“I suppose sometimes I do. But that’s just being human, innit?” he shrugs, ignoring the pang in his chest. 
Your fingers pause their patterns, stilling on his shirt. You allow your hand to press flat over his heart, feeling it thrum under your palm. What if this was it? You’re both lonely and after all, he just said he thinks you’re lovely. Urges rattle at the back of your mind, you’re replaying every single moment that he’s looked at you a little too long, every time that his touch created sparks from a lingering brush. It had to all have been real, you weren’t crazy. Your head is swimming, you’re moving before you can even fully process it, and it feels like the room is tilting with your body. With your hands on his shoulders, you wobble as you lift one leg over his lap to straddle him. Matty’s eyes go wide, he hastily reaches out and grasps your hips, trying to keep you steady. You feel like you’re burning up from the inside, you can only think about him, his cologne, his calloused fingertips, his mouth, his tattooed skin. Hot, liquid need is consuming you, eroding any bit of rationality left. 
“We could help each other, y’know?” you suggest, your voice dripping with implication. 
Matty glances down at your lips for a moment, but he tears his eyes away just as quickly as if he’d been burned. He looks stunned, his body totally rigid against the couch as his fingers dig into your hips, his blunt nails biting at your skin through your clothes. You look like a wet dream perched on his lap like that, but the very idea of this continuing when you were in this state made Matty’s stomach churn. He shakes his head, swallowing hard as he starts to speak, his voice strained as he tries to reason with you. 
“Darling, listen to me-” 
“No one would have to know. George wouldn’t know, it could be… it could be a secret,” you interrupt, biting your lip as you speak in a hushed voice.
The reminder of your brother’s existence just added to the urgency of getting you off of his lap. Hell, he’d probably wring Matty’s neck just for not immediately taking you to your room and promptly leaving. He didn’t want you to be a secret like you were some kind of dirty indulgence for him. No, you didn’t deserve that, and it frankly broke his heart that you would let him treat you that way. 
“No. We can’t,” he asserts, his tone coming out much firmer.
Many people think “heartache” is just an expression, but they’ve never felt the actual squeeze in their chest. A sobering rush goes straight to your head as your heart clenches, shame flooding your body. You loosen your hold on his shoulders, letting your hands drop to your sides. You take a shuddering breath, stammering something that neither of you can decipher because of how scrambled your thoughts are. Part of you wants to beg, to tell him you’ll be the best he’d ever had if he let you. But you don't, you let everything come crashing down around you. 
“You’re drunk, you’re not thinking straight. I absolutely will not take advantage of that,” Matty says softly, watching your face drop. 
“But- but I… I just wanted to… wanted you…”
“I know.”
Matty gently slides you off of his lap, feeling like the biggest monster in the world. He knows he’s doing exactly what he should, but the look on your face has guilt gnawing at his insides. Silence settles over the two of you like a layer of snow, you wrap your arms around your body to shield yourself from its frigidity. He’s about to apologize, to tell you how much he’d love to quell your loneliness another time but you speak first, your voice shockingly even, like you hadn’t had a drop to drink. 
“Can you just take me to my room?” 
He’s quiet for a moment before nodding, sensing your almost palpable embarrassment and regret. Matty gets up off of the couch first, reaching his hands out to you to help you up. It feels bittersweet to take them as you stand, finding his touch both comforting and sickening. You want him near but also want him as far away as possible, it’s like the push and pull of the cruelest magnet. 
He helps you sit down on your bed, your little black dress starkly standing out against your soft white sheets. You have a faraway look on your face, and Matty has no clue what to say or do to make any of this better. He knows he can’t pick up the pieces, but he slowly reaches out to rub away some of the mascara that’s smudged under your eyes. You’re trying your hardest to bite back tears, shaking your head as he asks you if you want to change or take off your makeup. You don’t know how to describe the feeling in your stomach as anything other than disgusting. You just want to sleep and forget. 
“Oh, my dear…” he murmurs sympathetically, “I’ll let you get some rest, okay?” You find yourself a little panicked at the idea of him leaving your side, automatically grasping his arms. You coax him closer, despite the shame biting at your ankles, nipping at your skin. Quietly, he understands. He eases himself into your bed next to you, letting you curl up at his side, your head on his chest. You feel it rise and fall under your cheek with each breath. Slowly, your body becomes less rigid as you let yourself melt into him. Exhaustion is seeping in, but this time the physical kind.
“I’m surprised you’re still here,” you whisper, letting out a humorless chuckle at your expense. 
“And why wouldn’t I be here?”
“Because I’m a mess. And I threw myself at you.”
Matty smiles softly, letting out an amused exhale through his nose. You’re laying there wondering how he isn’t repulsed by you, and he’s gazing down at you thinking about how beautiful you look in this light. 
“You’re just drunk and a bit lonely. Nothing to kick yourself over, sweetheart, we’ve all been there. You were only bein’ a little affectionate.”
“Affectionate? I was trying to jump your bones.”
He laughs at that, a loud, uproarious noise that’s completely unmelodic, and yet it’s your favorite sound. His chest rumbles with his barking laughter under your cheek and you find yourself smiling, just a little. You can’t help it, even when it almost hurts to breathe. As his chuckles subside, he begins stroking your hair, running his fingers through the unruly strands. Your eyelids are getting heavier, it’s as if time is moving in slow motion, dragging on to an unceremonious stop. You’d daydreamed about falling asleep in his arms, but not like this. On the brink of slipping into sleep, your heart begins to pour out in a delirious confession.
“I know you'll never see me the way I see you. But that's okay. I can quietly admire you. I just want you to be happy. Even if that's with somebody else," you mumble.
You don't know why you’re doing this. You can hardly think straight. You just love him. You’ve loved and wanted him for too long. Longer than anyone should have to bear. 
“What are you talking about?” he whispers, his smile fading. 
"You know what I mean," you continue, the stream of consciousness making you feel somewhat lighter, "you're gonna... you're gonna marry a model... and be happy... and I'll find something... and I'll be fine.”
What you’re saying doesn’t make much sense to him, but it pulls him apart regardless. He can’t help but feel sick to his stomach that you don’t see yourself in his future. Matty gives you a soft squeeze, staring at the top of your head as you barely cling to consciousness. He wants to tell you how he feels so badly, it’s killing him. Everything inside is screaming at him to confess, but he can’t, not when you might not even remember it. He decides this will have to suffice. 
“Sweetheart, I promise you, I would not be happy in that scenario. Not without you.”
“What?” you mutter, sounding dazed. 
Well, sure, you’ll be there. You’ll go visit him in his house that’s far bigger than necessary and force a smile when you greet his impossibly beautiful wife. But… the way he said it… no. You shouldn’t delude yourself any further. 
“Look, you need some rest. We can talk about this later, yeah?” Matty sighs, burying his nose in your hair as he kisses the top of your head. 
“Yeah. Okay.” 
You feel sleep’s forgiving embrace wrap her arms around you. If you’re lucky, maybe you've drunk enough so you won’t remember any of this in the morning. Blissfully unaware, you wouldn’t have to carry this weight. Whatever happens to you, you know it’s for the better. 
Before you truly drift off, you say one last thing. Barely audible, but just loud enough to drive a dagger through Matty’s heart.
“I’m sorry. I love you.”
It’s like the air has been crushed from his lungs. You’ve left him alone with his rampant thoughts, his regrets. God, how he wishes this could have gone differently. After some time, he hears your breathing slow into a quiet steady rhythm, signaling that you’re sound asleep. Then, and only then does he softly speak into the silence of the night.
“I love you too.”
——————————————————————
… sorry?
Thank you to my lovely birthday twin Mads (@toomuchracket ) for previewing the early draft of this!!! Dedicated to you, I hope it’s half as good as your angst <3 <3
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letorip · 2 days
Text
i heard your name [iii]
“your lips were divine and you said that you’d be mine, i was yours for a time, now everything is alright”
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pairing: cairo sweet x reader
summary: after finally opening yourself up to hope, everything comes crashing down in a fiery mess.
warnings: being used, references to sex, really really really bad emotional stuff and lots of conflicting emotions, GASLIGHTING*** so yikes
word count: 4.5k
A/N: i’ve altered the timeline a bit so that there’s more of a gap when miller and cairo kiss and when she cries about miller hating her story.
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Even with your fingers sliding out of Cairo, placing her hot slick on your tongue like the sweetness it was and watching her shake, eyes rolled back to the ivory bed frame, you found yourself preoccupied with other thoughts.
From behind her, on the green of the walls as if there were an HD projector there, you caught a glimpse of the scene from a few days before, splashing with rain and the view you had from behind the bush, the greens bursting from the grey sky. Mr. Miller and Cairo. Cairo and Mr. Miller. Why was he driving to her house? What did he need late at night from his teenage student? Even in the rain, you definitely saw him, right?
“—Helllloooo?” came the voice from underneath you, jolting you from the waking nightmare. You looked down to where she was splayed out on the sheets.
Mascara blotted her cheeks from where the sweat had run, and Cairo shuddered, attempting to right herself. She sat up on her elbows, dark pupils blown out and staring at you in wonder. "Are you even on the planet anymore?" She asked, raising her eyebrows at you.
You managed a weak smile, guarding the real memory that was on your mind like clockwork again. Cairo's hands crept up to your unbuttoned shirt, grabbing each side and tugging you down on top of her, her hands threading themselves into the soft hair at your neck. She held you there, for a moment, resting her nose against the side of your face and nuzzling into you.
It was sweet and it was earnest, and had you not seen what you did, your heart would have done catapults in your chest and squeezed her right back. Instead, you wondered if your disgusting writing teacher had been here too. To what extent was Cairo breaking school policy? To what extent did she care? It was suddenly decidedly less sweet to be in her sheets.
"I should go," you muttered into the bed.
"Hm," hummed Cairo, but she didn't let you go, instead tightening her grip and holding you against her. "That was good," she whispered after a moment, right into your ear. You didn't reply, breathing in slowly and finding yourself consumed by the scent of her perfume. It smelled less like flowers.
Your hand went to the mattress, pushing yourself up and off of Cairo, rolling over. Outside the sky was fading to a languid purple colour, and you stared at it, frowning. From behind you, you could hear a rustling in the sheets.
"Is something wrong?" She asked. Her voice was a sickly sweet wave, stirring the pool of conflict in your gut. You swallowed, shaking your head. "Yeah, right. You're being quiet again," she said, scoffing.
"How are you so sure?" You asked. Your eyes flicked towards her and then back to the garden outside. Cairo was sitting up now, crisscrossed against one of the bedposts.
"Sure of what?"
"Sure you know me, or what I'm 'being.'" You looked back at her. "You talk to me sometimes like you do."
"Well...don't I know you?" She challenged, playing with intertwining her fingers. “What don’t I know?” You squinted a bit to see her dark eyes, in the dim lighting of Cairo's lamps and candles. She absolutely refused to use the bright ceiling fan light, and the shadows hid the shine of her dark brown eyes from where you could study them.
You shrugged, unwilling to answer. "I'm not sure either of us know each other, at this point."
She blinked at you, and then a smile crept out like she thought you were kidding. "Oh, are you mocking me now? Are we back to that pretentiousness thing you ramble about? The Mr. Miller and poetry speech?"
You stared at her, unable to reply. See, there was a certain part of you that hoped she was being taken advantage of— a very cruel part of you. And then there was the exceedingly real possibility that came from knowing Cairo Sweet. The that you couldn't help but give you pause.
The thought that she knew and was doing it on purpose. The thought that she was the one seducing him, and not the other way around. The thought that she was far from brainwashed, and was instead choosing the more insidious route. It was wrong, but it also wronged you, and the thought made you sick to your stomach.
Was that selfish? To want something so terrible for someone just to spare your own feelings? To want that for Cairo? Such thoughts had run through your mind several times for the past several hours, and each time you felt like a worse and worse person. Sometimes when you were with her you felt that way.
"You're being quiet again," She said. "Seriously, I'm going to start thinking you're sick if you don't tell me what's going on," she joked, trying to lighten the mood.
When you didn't reply to that either, she crawled towards you, laying her head on your chest and wrapping her arm around your torso. "I want you to tell me everything. We're close enough for that, right?” Above you in the ceiling, at the edge of the popcorn thread veins that weaved through the plaster like a map was some dark embossing that rich people had. You stared at it for a while.
"...I saw you and Mr. Miller," you said finally. The grief that came with it was unstoppable. It was quiet, but not quiet enough.
Cairo jolted up, yanking her head away from you and scooting a whole foot away as if a snake had bitten her. Eyes wide and wild, jaw slack, tears already starting to form. You watched her go.
"What did you say?" She asked, but not because she hadn't heard you. You repeated yourself anyways.
"I saw you two a few days ago. Together."
She nodded, but her cheeks were a flushed, angry and agitated red. "He dropped off my phone. I left it at sch—"
"—No, Cairo. I saw you guys kiss." She furrowed her eyebrows, looking...confused? This was when it was impossible to read her. Maybe she'd cry and tell you it was all in your head and you’d know your mom’s condition was genetic, or she'd punched him afterwards and she was going to the school board to raise hell and you could proudly stand behind her in support.
Instead, she simply said. "No?"
You stopped. "What do you mean, 'no'?"
"We hugged," She replied, shrugging. "That was it. I don’t know what you thought—"
"—Cairo, I saw you."
"(Y/n), that’s illegal and disgusting. We hugged because of stuff with my parents I talked to him about."
"You guys were in the rain. Kissing."
She reached out a hand, putting it on your knee and staring right at you. “I promise. I don't know what you think you saw, but it was rainy and it was getting dark. All we did was hug.”
"I— I saw you. I saw you two," you shook your head, the disgust at the image starting to work its way into your voice. But when you looked up, Cairo was glaring, looking concerned for you and a bit angry at the same time. Maybe you were crazy, after all.
"We hugged. God, how could you even think I would do that??? Is this what you meant by ‘the knowing each other’ bullshit??”
“I saw him here after hours, Cairo. I really don't want to believe it, but I don’t know how to really trust you…”
“Well whose fault is that!? You’re the one who insisted on being a celibate fucking monk for weeks because you didn’t want any semblance of a string attached. So sorry, maybe you don’t know my childhood pet, but I would hope you’d know me well enough to not think I was sleeping with my teacher!”
You scowled right back at her feeling your previous sheepishness roll over into a boiling resentment within you. “You have a bad habit of jumping into the pants of people who you deem good at writing, y’know.”
Cairo’s eyes widened in surprise, and she scoffed at you like she couldn’t believe it. You couldn't believe it either. "Is that what this is? Do you feel inadequate?” She questioned. "You think I'm just going to run off and onto the next person when I'm done using them?"
“No!” you insisted, cheeks flushing. Cairo threw up her hands.
“I can’t believe I have to sit here and convince you to not be jealous of our fifty something writing teacher of all people. Are you seriously that insecure?”
“I’m not insecure!”
“And I’m not some manipulative mastermind!"
"Then why are you lying?"
"God, are you on something?" She snapped, rolling her eyes. She wandered on over to her underwear, pulling them up her legs in frustration. "Normal people don't just accuse someone of a literal crime, (Y/n)," she spat, but the edges of her eyes had begun to water again.
"I saw you!" But your tone was weaker.
"Bullshit! You didn't see anything!" Cairo yelled, crying now. Gentle tears had begun to wash down her cheeks, taking some of the already splotchy mascara with it. She still looked beautiful, crying like that. "You're trying to blow up whatever good this was with your stupid insecurity! Why can't you just let things be good for once?! I was finally starting to have things be good for once!”
You stopped, feeling her words connect with your chest and sink directly into your heart. That hurt more than you wanted to admit. Once more you were wondering if it had really all been in your head. Was this all self-destructive?
You had sworn at seven to never do some of the stuff your mom always did, but the longer you looked at Cairo's tear-streaked face and sad, brown eyes, you began to wonder if the cycle was repeating itself and it was out of your control.
"I-I need to go," you shook your head. Get away.
"Are you seriously leaving again??" She asked, sounding incredulous. You didn't even look at her, grabbing your jacket and your phone, right when it buzzed in your hand. You looked down, seeing there were over twelve missed texts from your mom.
You threw it in your pocket. Now the warning light in your head was really going off. "I really need to go."
"We're not even done here! What is going on with you, and why are you accusing me of bullshit!?”
"Later."
"No, no way."
"Yes. Goodbye Cairo," you ended, throwing it over your shoulder before you fled her bedroom and down the stairs. When you reached the foyer, you heard her yell from the landing, watching you go.
"For a writer you communicate like such a child!" And then she slammed her door.
===+++===
It was remarkable, just how dull the white walls of your room looked now. In the past several weeks of having lived there, you had barely noticed just how blank they were. All of your walls were like that, ever since you had started moving around. People didn't usually bother to paint the walls of newer modern houses after their construction.
The very reason you had this new outlook was hard to ignore, and every single time you replayed the memory of seeing her and your writing teacher together on the porch of her house, the image became less and less cemented in your mind.
There had been a few branches, and the rain was very thick, and her porch was kind of far away, and maybe it was the wrong angle. Maybe you had seen it wrong, and it was all innocent, and Cairo was just getting support from her teacher that she idolised. Maybe she was right: maybe you had just ruined everything.
Of course, then there was the possibility that it was for the best. The overwhelming reality that you would probably be whisked away again in a month, and it was the realisation that you had stopped thinking about it that made you realise you had lived and loved like you’d be staying with her forever. More specifically, you had been a fool again.
You stood up from the ersatz desk, fashioned with a few cardboard boxes stacked on top of each other, and headed down the stairs at the end of the hall. It had begun to get darker outside fast, and the sky was fading from a faint purple to the lighter black of the blanket of night.
On the couch, your mom had splayed herself out, legs thrown haphazardly over the armrest and hands dangling from the seat cushions. Against the far wall was your television, with the big old crack right down the middle from when your mom had accidentally thrown it the week you had first arrived in town.
She didn’t say anything when you walked right past her, and you knew better than to talk to her when she was in one of her moods. It wouldn’t make it any better, it would make her cry. If you just waited a few weeks she would get up from the couch and want to go outside again. You walked right past her instead, going into the old kitchen and rooting around to find something to eat.
“Hey, kiddo,” she called quietly, and you had to stick your head out the doorway to make sure she had even really made the noise.
“Yeah mom?” You asked, a bit hopeful. Talking again was a good sign.
“I’m sorry.”
You frowned. “Why are you sorry?” There was suddenly the very real possibility that she would announce right there and then you were leaving again, and you were still kind of mad at Cairo and at yourself, but you didn’t want to leave. It didn’t feel over. But then again it never did. “Are we going?”
��For all this bullshit I put you through.” She sat herself up on the cushion and you could see in the dim light of the TV she had been crying, eyes raw and red. “You deserve the world, and not someone who’s just…this.”
“Hey,” you said softly, coming up behind her. “That’s my mom you’re talking about.” She gave you a weak smile.
“Nah. Moms are supposed to be there,” she said, looking up at you. “You deserve to not be alone,” she said. You didn’t know what to say back.
It wasn’t a new line of thought for her. The mournful look she gave you and the saddened apologies for your lifestyle happened usually once a month, and whatever connection you thought you two had would be immediately forgotten by an immediate period of high energy, and your mom trying every hobby in existence.
When she got in her moods like this, you could do nothing but watch her rake herself over hot coals like she was the worst person in the world and not your mother, who you were proud of, and who you knew was trying.
But that thing she said, about being alone. It sunk deep into your chest. There was Cairo’s face, eyes streaked with tears that you had caused over something you hadn’t even been sure of.
Maybe you didn’t want to be alone more than you wanted to confront what was so clearly in front of you. The red flag had been given and you had the hard choice of wether you wanted to step right over it or not. You didn't know what to say to your mom, so you said nothing at all, grabbing your dinner and trotting back up the stairs to stare at the wall a little bit longer.
===+++===
"Okay," Winnie clapped her hands together, slamming them down on the end of your table and glaring right at you. "Tell me what the hell is going on."
"What do you mean?" You asked. She put her hands on her hips and looked quite cross.
"Nuh uh, none of that. You and Cairo. Now." You cringed.
It had been about three days since you and Cairo...fell out? It was strange to describe. Class was class and was just as boring and forgettable as it had been before you had heard Cairo's name and knew she existed. She seemed unaware you were even around, any sort of relationship you two had was just washed down the imaginary drain.
Winnie had been miffed beyond belief. One day her two friends were inseparable and then the next, they couldn't be further apart. You weren't especially surprised she had come demanding answers, but that meant Cairo probably wasn't talking to her about it.
"We just have different views," you shrugged. It wasn't technically a lie. Since you had less time to wonder about Cairo, it had become all the more clear how you were irrevocably fascinated and in love with her, and it only made your own fuck up a bit more painful when she walked past you but refused to meet your eyes.
"I'm calling bullshit, kid," said Winnie. She had her eyes narrowed at you, like she was trying to read your face.
"Kid?" you tried to joke. "I'm older than you." Winnie was having none of it, glaring dismissively.
"Then why are you both acting like children?"
You frowned. Would Winnie tell Cairo? Would Cairo even care? Part of you thought she might have been totally done with you. If it was really just a hookup, there was the underlying possibility she hadn't even really cared that you were no longer fucking. Maybe she had moved onto better things.
"Winnie, take your seat," Mr. Miller called, from across the classroom. Winnie spun back around, giving him her best smile before turning to you.
"Later," she insisted. From the front of the room Cairo was watching you both, her eyes focused and sharp.
===+++===
Being back at Cairo's house was definitely strange. The clouds had come back to sit over her roof, hiding it from the sun and the entirety of your walk, it had started to drizzle, soaking your hair and splattering onto your clothes.
You weren't entirely sure why it had to be that day, but Winnie had been less than helpful, and instead just looked at you like you were a kicked puppy, refusing to say more when you told her what was going on between you two.
"That makes sense," she had said, with a weird sheen of guilt. The whole conversation had felt weird, as if there was some unknown truth being held from you, that only managed to make you feel worse. Did she mean it made sense Cairo needed help with her parents? That was what you thought at least. It made the most sense, what with her needing comforting from Mr. Miller.
The whole ordeal had only managed to make you feel worse about confronting her about it and not leaving it up to Cairo to set her own boundaries. You decided right then and there that it meant you needed to apologize.
You weren't even sure she was home, now that you thought about it. The house looked a bit dark from down the green, but it was a rainstorm, so maybe that was normal for Tennessee.
You wandered right up to her door, dripping onto her porch with the expensive real wood and feeling a little bit bad about it. The lights were all out except for the one at the top of the stairs where you knew her room was. She was definitely there.
Your finger went to ring the bell when you stopped, noticing the crack in the door from the frame. It was propped open with a sandal from the nearby shoerack that sat in the mudroom and you frowned, feeling your mind jumping towards the worst possibilities. She seemed to leave the door unlocked all the time, but having it cracked it open was new.
There weren't any instructions for what to do in this kind of situation, and even if there had been, you had failed to ever come across a similar situation anyhow. You did the best thing you could think of, pushing the door open and calling out Cairo's name over the threshold.
No response. Fantastic. You shut your eyes and sighed deeply, before stepping inside. It was normal for the most part, but then your eyes saw the smashed plant pot right there on the table in the foyer, and you started to get worried again.
You raced up the stairs as fast as you could, stopping on the landing and bending over to catch your breath. That had been a terrible idea.
When you were finally no longer about to have a heart attack, you called out to her again.
"Cairo?" You said, loudly towards her shut door. From under the small gap between the door and the floor, the soft lighting from her bedside table lamp bled out into the hall. You lifted your hand, knocking.
"Who is it?" Came her voice, with a slight tremble to it. You frowned, pushing your ear against the door to hear.
"It's, uh— it's me. (Y/n)," you muttered.
"Go the hell away," she replied.
"Right, yeah, I was just gonna—"
"—Leave!" she cut you off. "Get the fuck out of my house. Why are you even here??"
You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling awfully awkward. "I came to apologise about a few days ago...the door was just kind of open and I thought...well, I don't know what I thought."
"You know I leave it open," she said back, but with the same weird shake to her voice. You blinked. If you hadn't known any better, it sounded like she'd been...
"Cairo, have you been crying?" You asked, worry filling your voice and your mind, too. "Did something happen?"
"Why do you even care?" She asked. Her voice had even more of a quiver to it now. "You think I'm some weirdo." You winced, figuring you probably deserved that.
"Can I come in?" you titled your head to lay against the door.
"No," said Cairo, but it was closer this time, like she had wandered closer to it.
"Um, okay," you nodded, sinking to the floor outside instead. Even if she didn't especially want you back in her life whatsoever, you figured she could have probably used someone to just listen. Sometimes that's what your mom wanted when she was upset and locked herself away. "Can you tell me what happened?"
"Why?" She mumbled, her voice a bit muffled. You shrugged.
"I want to make sure you're okay."
She didn't say anything for a moment, and you could feel her thinking it over. "I was...disregarded."
You frowned. "Is this about your parents?" When she didn't reply you continued. "It's just, I know you have a rocky relationship with them, so..."
"It's not a rocky relationship," said Cairo. She seemed to have stiffened at the subject, and you figured you had gotten it in one. "Leave it alone." You winced again. A period of silence fell over you both, and your eyes went around the landing, looking at the stacks of books, debating something within yourself.
You remembered her crying that one night, and you remembered pushing her away, and you remembered how painful that had been and how hypocritical it was now that you were bugging her to share. So you swallowed hard and did something you had never done before.
"Cairo," you said softly. "My mom is bipolar."
"What?" She asked. It was clear she was on the other side of the door now, like you were, probably sitting on the ground. Maybe not having her in front of you made it easier to talk.
"Yeah. It's part of why we move around so much. It's just been me and her for the longest time. She doesn't like the medication and stuff...says it makes her fuzzy and my dad was an asshole about it and she thinks one day he's gonna steal me for himself, so we just kinda go from place to place when she feels like it."
"Oh," she said.
"Some days she's invincible and wild, like a hero or something. And then other days she doesn't move off the couch, and sometimes I have to leave food out for her to make sure she eats. I don't know if it's going to be an up or a down day." The confession sat in the air between you for a moment, just out in the open, and it felt like a weight had been lifted right off your chest. The information now lived and died with Cairo Sweet.
"I don't even know where my parents are," Cairo said after a minute. "Somewhere probably in Europe, getting drunk and living life. I can't be mad at them, I'm afraid. I can't call them shitty parents when they're not around to be shitty."
You shook your head. "It doesn't matter how crappy of a parent they are. It still fucks you up when they're not around."
"Maybe," Cairo said softly. "At least they're having fun." It sounded bittersweet, and you wanted to reach through the door to place an arm around her or to stroke her cheek.
"So why were you crying?" you asked.
You heard a thud against the wood, and she must have leaned her head back. "I got a message...they're staying in Europe for a couple months. So they won't be at graduation." It was a clever lie, one that saddened you and filled your heart wit pity.
"Oh," you hummed. Neither would your mom, anyhow. You had glazed over it too, but probably neither would you. You had no idea what you would say if your mom decided to pack you up and move you again before the end of the year. Maybe this time you'd cling and stay. "Cairo?"
"Yes?"
"I'm sorry I accused you of that with Mr. Miller."
She went silent but finally said, "I still don't know how the hell it could've looked like we were kissing."
"Yeah, I don't know.”
“I wouldn’t do that to you, (Y/n).”
"I believe you."
"I know."
You two just sat there for a moment, separated by the door but together.
"I'm scared by all this."
"I know," she said.
"You keep saying that."
"I know," Cairo laughed. "You can open the door now, you know."
"Can I?"
"Mhm."
You clambered to your feet, reaching out to the railing to steady yourself. You opened the door and there she was. Against your better judgement and by the sheer sparkle of her warm honey eyes, you forgot every little comment from Winnie or question that was suspiciously dismissed.
And for what it was worth, Cairo looked at you— really looked at you, for the first time since you had met, and decided maybe she liked clinging to your chest.
===+++===
before anyone feels the need to say this, it'll probably be continued in a super messy fourth part that i'm already starting to work on. it may take a while to come out though. anyways thank you all so much for 300 followers and over 2.5k likes on my work. it means so much.
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munsonsmixtapes · 2 days
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Jealousy, Jealousy
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rockstar!Eddie x actress!reader
summary: you and Eddie have just started dating and decide to keep it on the down low until Eddie reveals that you’re together in an interview because you get jealous only for him to prove afterwards that he belongs to you and only you
cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) fingering, jealousy, hurt/comfort
Not long after your meeting and multiple dates, you and Eddie decided to start a casual relationship, but wanted to keep it private despite your teams wanting you to go public because it would have been good PR. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Your relationships were the only things that were yours and you were going to keep it that way.
Even though everything was private, you still decided to go to the premiere of your movie together. As friends, of course. But the two of you seemed much more than friendly as you smiled on the carpet, looking at each other with nothing by loving smiles.
There had been multiple speculations about your relationship on social media so nobody was surprised when you showed up hand in hand, your outfits matching. And nobody cared whether or not is was for PR, they were just happy so see the two of you together.
Though, after a few minutes on the carpet, you and Eddie were pulled aside for an interview with one of the Hollywood gossip coverage channels. You could see the interviewer flirting with Eddie and that made your blood boil but you weren’t sure why. You were just hanging out casually. No strings were attached.
But you wanted them to be. You wanted to be able to call Eddie yours. You wanted to be exclusive and not have to worry about who he was hanging out with. You had wanted to be with him for so long and wanted to just take whatever you could get, but you weren’t satisfied with that.
“There’s the couple of the night,” the interviewer greeted and you couldn’t help but feel jealous because she was exactly his type, brunette with legs for days. And she looked so good in her black dress. You just couldn’t compare and almost wanted to look away from how much she was flirting with him.
“Hey,” Eddie greeted her with a smile and you mimicked it, not wanting to be rude. You didn’t want to tear her down just because she was flirting with Eddie. That wasn’t what you stood for.
“May I just say, you guys look amazing. I love the purple,” she eyed your outfits and you just nodded, wanting to agree with her. You guys did look fucking amazing.
“Oh, thank you,” Eddie nodded. “But I can’t take all the credit. It was all y/n’s idea.” He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you as close to him as possible.
“Well, I love it. So, how’s the new album coming along?” Eddie couldn’t believe she was asking that. This was your night and here she was, asking him about his tour when the whole reason they were there was because your new movie had just come out.
“Good, good,” he nodded. “But enough about me. Let’s talk about my girl.” He looked at you like he was so proud of you and that warmed your heart while simultaneously making you go weak in the knees.
“Your girl?” The interviewer was just as surprised as you at the term of endearment. The only time he had called you that was behind closed doors and now he was just bringing out in the open.
“Yes, my girl. My girlfriend.” You both looked at Eddie in shock. He wasn’t supposed to announce your relationship like that. It wasn’t even a relationship. And even if it was, you had wanted it to be a soft launch on your instagram.
“I-I didn’t know that you were official.”
“Well, we are,” he gave her a sassy smirk. “It was nice speaking to you, what was your name?”
“Jane.”
“Jane. We should get inside.” He turned to you before leading you towards the door to enter the building.
As soon as you were inside, you pulled him into the bathroom before anyone could spot you. You really needed to speak with him and couldn’t do it with all of those people watching. This was a private conversation.
You pushed Eddie into the women’s restroom and pulled him into one of the handicapped stalls so there was more room between the two of you. He looked at you eagerly but his face fell once he realized that you were upset with him.
He reached for you and you let him pull you into his arms, his hands running up and down your back, trying his best to calm you down. He really hadn’t meant to upset you. He just wanted to make you feel secure about your relationship since jealousy was obvious in your eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized, resting his head against your chest, pressing a kiss to it. He then pulled back and pressed his forehead against yours. “So fucking sorry.”
“No, no.” You took his face and cradled it in your hands, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I appreciated what you said.”
“You did?” His face lit up and he looked so fucking adorable.
“I did. I just pulled you in here so I could tell you that I wanted to do things for real.” His heart stopped in that moment. The hottest woman on the planet actually wanted to be in a relationship with him? What had he done to get so lucky?
“Oh thank god.” He let out a sigh of relief and you smiled in response.
“I know.” You pressed another kiss to his lips, this one rougher before pulling away. “Things don’t start for another hour so I think we have time for a quickie,” you said, pulling away, twirling one of his face framing curls and Eddie swore he was going to cream his pants right there. You always managed to say exactly what he was thinking to the point where he could have sworn that you were in his head.
“Even if we didn’t, I’d take the chance.” Eddie’s lips were on yours in a flash and he licked in your mouth, letting his hands traveling down your body until he got to the slit in your dress that had been torturing him all night.
His hand moved through the slit and he stuck his hand down in your underwear, his fingers staying where they were, moving back and forth so you got a little sensation but not the full thing.
“Eddie, please,” you begged and right when you were about to take matters into your own hands, he shoved his fingers up your cunt, pumping them in and out. “Oh-” you moaned and Eddie just smiled against your lips.
“That’s it, honey, let it out,” he urged and you turned, pressing your back to his chest so he had better access. He continued to thrust his fingers in and out of you and you let out more moans, causing him to cum just at the sound, hoping that it hadn’t seeped through the fabric of his pants.
He removed his fingers once he thought you were ready and turned you around to face him, sucking the slick from his fingers to get rid of it and you swore you were even more soaked. God, he was so hot. You needed him now more than ever.
“Always taste so good, honey,” he smiled. “How do you do that?”
“I don’t know,” you breathed. “Need your cock, now,” you demanded and Eddie quickly unbuttoned his pants and pulled down both them and his underwear, causing his cock to spring free. Beads of precum were falling from it and you were desperate to have it inside of you.
“Love it when you’re bossy.” He removed the condom he had in his pants and quickly undid the wrapper before rolling it onto his dick.
Once he was situated, he pushed you against the wall and pushed up your dress before slamming his dick into you and you both let out loud moans at the sensation. He pounded into you which contradicted his sweet words that he was whispering in your ear.
Your legs wrapped around his waist, so he could fit all of himself inside, the outside of your pussy almost touching his balls. Your eyes watered at the feeling, but it just felt so good that you let it happen.
“Oh my god,” you whined and Eddie kept going, thrusting the hardest and fastest that he could, having no plan of stopping anytime soon. Not when you looked so hot pushed up against the wall, your hair getting messed up from it. Your lipstick was all smeared from his kisses and your eye makeup was looking a little smoky from the sweat.
“Fuck, feel so good honey. And you look so fucking hot wrapped around me.” His voice was raspy and so hot.
He slowed down his pace as you reached your climax but you let him stay inside of you as he continued to pump in and out of you until you were both breathless and thought you had been gone long enough.
Eddie pulled out of you and let you pee while he cleaned himself up and tied off the condom while you made sure you were all set. After you exited the bathroom, you touched up your lipstick and tried to fix what had smeared onto Eddie’s face, but he wouldn’t let you since he wanted to show everyone that he belonged to you. So, you exited the bathroom hand in hand, ready to officially debut as a couple.
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xiaours · 3 days
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DOUBTFUL FEELING
— His thoughts cave in on him, making it seem to him that you deserve someone better.
pairing. wanderer x gn!reader
cw. fluff/slight angst, established relationship, physical affection, doubting oneself, 'love you's
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Scara never felt genuine love. Always being weary of others and not having the heart to put trust in those who showed kindness. He never thought he’d be with someone. He had too much pride and ego for anyone to even handle him.
But he here you were. Lying with him on your comfortable couch. Stroking his head as he laid on your chest. He never felt anything like this before. You were so soothing and patient for him. During all his outbursts and snarky remarks, you still stuck with him.
“Have you done anything today, Scara?”
Your voice brought him back to reality from his headspace full of thoughts, bringing his attention to you.
“Hm?.. Nahida came by and checked up on me. But that’s all that really happened”
“That’s good.”
Silence came around you two once again. There was never an awkward silence between one another. With you, he always felt comfortable. Too comfortable for his liking, it always made him feel like he shouldn’t have done anything to deserve this in the first place.
“[name].”
“Yes, Scara?”
You looked down at him as you halted your hands from raking through the strands of his hair.
“Why did you choose me?”
Furrowing your eyebrows, you brought your hand down to his upper back, soothingly rubbing it.
“Why did I choose you.. Why do you ask?”
Scara audibly sighed, he continued to lay in the same spot. Not wanting to bring his gaze to your eyes. He hated feeling so vulnerable under someone’s watch. It gave him the feeling of weakness.
“I’m someone with a cruel, cold-hearted past. You are a helping soul, you bring light to people’s day. We’re two different people. It bubbles the thought that you could do so much better than me. You deserve better.”
You were taken aback, at a loss for words at what he had just muttered. “Scara..”
“I deserve you. We deserve each other. I’m not with you for some charity act. I’m with you because you’re you.
“I’m me?” Scaramouche had turned his head, now having the courage to look you in your eyes. Those loving eyes. “Elaborate.”
“Your personality. It may seem like you don’t care, but deep down, you do. You are a caring person, Scara. You do help others and you protect the people that are close to you.”
“I see..”
He laid back down on your chest, processing your words with that blank face of his. You knew he felt touched by your kind words.
“I do love you, Scaramouche. I love you for you and I am grateful I’m even the one here with you right now. Please, never doubt that I should be with someone else. I’m perfect with who I’m with right now.”
Hearing a hum, Scara exhaled. A slight relief washing over him. Never having heard these words before, his eyes couldn’t help but water to the overflow of affection. His mouth formed into a flat line.
You continued to rub his back. One of your hands on his back as you rested the other on his hair. Slightly resting your chin on his head, hugging him.
“Thank you, [name]. For enduring with me. You mean too much to me.”
“Mhm. I love you, Scara.”
“..I love you too.”
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© xiaours. do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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Deprived
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader
Word count: ~2.6k
Summary: Top embarrassing moments at work with the Maximoffs
A/N: This seemed like the most humorous way to introduce sexting.
Warnings: fluff, sexting, toys, and sibling embarrassment
You can’t help but laugh at Pietro as you finish the last dregs of your drink with a sigh. You and your family had just finished a weekly dinner at your house, and it’s getting late. You aren’t sure who started the current conversation, but given how embarrassed Pietro is, for once, you don’t think that he is the one causing trouble.
You listen to him deny that he’d done anything compromising in his office at the compound, but the more he protests, the less you believe him. Stealing a glance at Wanda, you see how dubious she appears as well and realize that you’re right to doubt Pietro.
Wanda mutters something under her breath that Pietro hears and unsurprisingly disagrees with. You just decide to wait and see where this goes because you honestly can’t think of something more embarrassing that Wanda may have experienced at work.
“Yeah, right! You’ve definitely done worse than that, Wanda.”
“Actually no, I haven’t.”
There’s a beat of silence as the twins glare at each other, but then you hear someone clear their throat and you turn to the other side of the deck with a frown. You see Steve shooting the Maximoff twins a sheepish look, no just Wanda, before he takes a sip of the whiskey you’d just finished.
“Actually, I can think of something.”
Wanda was beyond frustrated at how the day had gone for her. It was nearly 9pm and she had been out and busy with meetings since she was forced to leave you in bed at 7am. She swore that if she wasn’t so used to micromanaging things, she would give the reins to her brother to take care of the aftermath of today. She didn’t want to think about the fallout right now, nor how she had a nearly 2 hour car ride until she was home. You would likely be asleep by then which just put her in a worse mood. 
She hated to leave you, especially after she promised that she’d spend time with you. She hadn’t promised the whole day because that wasn’t something she could do very often, even if it was Saturday. However, she had promised you breakfast in bed, but that had turned into 30 seconds of coffee in bed when Steve had called with the bad news. 
So Wanda left you to deal with the most recent work crisis, and you spent most of the day alone and slightly miffed. You didn’t waste the day away; however, and you spent the morning hiking with your dog before baking and watching cooking shows all afternoon. You made a cheesecake, a pie, and brownies before you realized that you should make something for dinner. You probably should eat a vegetable. 
This led to you making one of your favorite meals, and you ate your shrimp stir fry on the couch in front of the TV with Boone at your feet. By the time 8pm rolled around you decided to walk Boone one last time before showering and crawling in bed. You hadn’t heard from Wanda all day, but this wasn’t abnormal. You seldom heard from her when she worked, but for some reason, today it annoyed you. 
Sitting in bed slightly cold, and alone, you considered what could have happened this morning if your wife had stayed like you both had wanted. You smiled at the thought of how your other lazy mornings have gone, and you sigh in defeat before switching off the light and lying down with a frown. You roll onto your side before looking to your phone on the bedside table. You hesitate before grabbing it and unlocking it to see your text thread with Wanda. 
You wonder if she’s still working. How long until she comes home? You never really know the answer to this, but despite how this morning went, it seems that you’re in luck tonight. Your phone buzzes in your hand, and you see that Wanda’s texted. 
-I’ll be home in a little over an hour. -
You smile at this before you lie flat on your back stare at the ceiling. You sigh heavily before shifting under the covers mindlessly. You almost fall asleep, but your thoughts have drifted to something that makes you throw the covers off of you. You’re overheating and you slip your hands under your shirt to remove it before rolling back onto your stomach with a sigh. 
You’re near sleep again when you remember that you didn’t respond to your wife’s text. You see that it was nearly 40 minutes ago and you curse before you type out a quick response. 
You stop short of sending your ‘see you soon’ message, and you stare at it for a few seconds before smiling widely. You decide to take advantage of the line of communication that you’ve been granted. You just hope that Wanda’s not working on the way home because if so, it’s likely your message will go ignored. 
Wanda’s staring out the window frowning deeply at nothing in particular. It was too dark to see much more than the silhouette of trees they pass every once in a while. She’d concluded that you must be asleep since you hadn’t answered her text, which was disappointing, but understandable. She’d almost convinced herself to try and get some work out of the way when her phone vibrates in her hand close to an hour after she’d texted you. 
-Can’t wait. I might get started without you.-
Wanda frowns in confusion as she reads your message again, then once more before she decides that maybe she woke you up from a nap. She texts back a question that you take barely any time to respond to. She has to take a deep breath before she shifts in her seat and thinks about how to respond to you. 
-What are you starting on without me? -
-I’ll give you a hint. No clothes are involved. -
Wanda types out a reply slowly as she looks up to see that Steve is still focusing on the road. He has to be relieved that all of the day’s meetings are over too. She knows that she’s not always the most pleasant person to be around, especially when stressed. 
Wanda taps send and waits to see how you respond.
You’re rolling onto your back with a groan as you try to push your shorts off with the least amount of effort possible. You sigh in relief and throw them toward the end of the bed with your shirt before you shake yourself out like a dog. You smile, already feeling better now that you’re not so hot, and reach for your phone. 
You figure that Wanda is going to play coy, or maybe even tease you. Instead, her response makes you stiffen and kicks your heart rate up a bit. 
-You better not be doing what I think you are. – 
You can’t help the giddy noise that leaves you at your wife’s not-so-subtle threat. You consider how you’d like to play this, but it doesn’t take much thought at all. You’ve always loved to push Wanda’s buttons, and knowing how much she loves it too makes you all the more eager to tease. You type out a response before setting your phone beside you on the bed. You close your eyes and imagine what you’d do next if Wanda were by your side. 
-You better hurry home if you plan to stop me.-
You ignore the vibrating phone for a few minutes just to make Wanda tick. You run your finger through your hair, pushing it out of your eyes as your other hand slides up your leg. You stop to rest it against your stomach and you sigh heavily as your phone starts to ring. You smile and let your hand drop between your legs before you bother to answer.
Wanda’s typing furiously when she realizes that you’re ignoring her. She imagines you’re lying in bed naked and bored out of your mind. She knows how active of an imagination you have, and if you’ve already taken off your clothes from feeling overheated, well anything could happen. 
She’s doing her best to try and stop this when she realizes that her three texts are going unread. She glances at Steve again before she curses herself for not choosing the car that has a privacy divider. Today had been so busy that she hadn’t planned on needing one for the drive. She’s really regretting her choices right now. Still, she barely hesitates to call you. 
By the fourth ring, Wanda’s getting annoyed and you’re smiling so wide that your cheeks hurt. Still, you don’t say anything immediately when you slide the green button across your screen. You close your eyes after the call connects, and simply hum when Wanda speaks up. 
“Y/n?”
Your lack of response makes Wanda tense and she has to push down the urge to speak above a whisper. She is too aware of Steve’s presence, but she’s also not going to wait until she’s at home to talk to you. 
“Y/n, what are you doing?” 
You can tell by her tone, that your wife is irked and you have to stop yourself from laughing because you know that will just make it worse. 
“Hi Wands.” 
Wanda simply frowns at your avoidance of her question before she sits up straighter at the sound of something rustling in the background. She accidentally makes eye contact with Steve, but she quickly looks away before she tries to ask casually. 
“What are you up to, detka?” 
You think of all the ways that you can answer this question, but none of them feel appropriate. None of them are sufficient to describe how you shove your hand between your legs and touch yourself. For this reason, you decide to just let Wanda listen. 
You take a deep breath and set you phone down on your chest, and a shiver shoots through you at the contact. You shift to get more comfortable before you groan as you slide your fingers over your clit. 
“Fuck.” 
Your breathy curse has Wanda tightening her grip on her phone, and she grits her teeth to hold herself back. 
“Y/n…”
You ignore your wife and continue to work yourself up, and you barely hear her speak to Steve as she tries to keep your moans from drifting to the front seat. 
“Steve, can you turn on the radio, please?” 
Even the sound of a familiar rock song doesn’t completely drown you out, and Wanda wishes that she could see what you were doing. Better yet, she wishes she was with you so she could put a stop to this. Or rather take charge. 
“Y/n, if you don’t stop right now, you’re going to regret it.” 
You can’t help the breathy laugh that leaves you when Wanda says this. You can imagine the look on her face right now and you shudder at the thought. The only times you’ve dared to laugh in Wanda’s face at a time like this, she kept her word about making you regret it. The distance between you two makes you bold and your fingers pick up speed before you release a groan that’s loud enough for Steve to hear. 
“Really because I think I’ll regret it if I stop?” 
Wanda considers telling Steve to pull over so she can switch places with him. Well she’d drive them like a bat out of hell, but she’d keep you on the phone somehow. She’s not sure how that would work, and she cringes when she realizes that you’ve caught Steve’s attention. Why hadn’t she brought her headphones? 
Wanda makes sure that the volume is turned down as far as possible before she sighs heavily. She’s thinking about how she’s going to make you pay for this when she hears something she immediately recognizes as a drawer opening. Wanda stiffens further before she turns her head to try and muffle her voice as much as possible. 
“Don’t you dare, Y/n. I swear--.” 
Wanda’s cut off by the unmistakable sound of a vibrator, and she nearly bangs her head against the window in frustration. In her fury, she misses the way that Steve’s eyes widen and he turns up the radio as discreetly as possible. Wanda can hear your moans getting louder as you switch the settings, and she curses in frustration. 
“Steve, drive faster.” 
Surprisingly, Steve doesn’t argue and Wanda focuses on the revving of the engine instead of the sounds that are coming through the phone. Her face is flushed in arousal and annoyance, but she’s not sure which is stronger as she listens to you get closer to the edge. She knows she won’t make it home in time, but she at least feels comforted by the fact that she won’t have to wait too long to get her hands on you. 
“I’ll be home in half an hour.” 
Undoubtedly listening, Steve speeds up even further, and if she weren’t so embarrassed by the fact that he’s certainly heard you, she’d thank him. Instead, she scowls when you barely hum in acknowledgement before you come with moan that makes Wanda shudder violently. She curses and slams her phone on her leg before taking a deep breath. Her only comfort is that Steve is going close to 80 mph. 
Wanda hears you let out a loud sigh before you shift once again before something drops onto the dresser. Wanda’s biting her lip so hard that she draws blood, but she ignores it as she promptly hangs up on you. 
“I’ll be waiting, Wands.” 
No one says anything when Steve finishes telling an abbreviated version of what happened several months ago. He looks between you and Wanda, and he’s not sure who looks more embarrassed. You’re staring into your glass with your cheeks burning brighter than anything else in the room. At least that’s what it feels like. Wanda looks mortified and she opens her mouth a couple of times to make an excuse, but she honestly can’t.
Unsurprisingly, Pietro speaks up first and it only makes his sister scowl while you just blush so hard you feel lightheaded.
“Damn, sestra, didn’t think you had it in you.”
Before Wanda can argue or at the very least tell her brother to shut up, you shoot your wife a glare that does nothing to hide your embarrassment.
“You never said that Steve was listening!”
You can’t believe that this never came up, and that Wanda didn’t just hang up on you. Honestly, of all your friends, he’s the best-case scenario because he’s so discreet and loyal. God forbid Yelena had been in the car, she would have teased you mercilessly. That said, you’re sure that your wife would have just hung up on you if she’d been in the car.
Wanda sighs before she shakes her head and tries her best to force down her embarrassment. Everyone in the room has had sex before, it wasn’t a big deal.
“You just weren’t paying attention, Y/n.”
You scowl in response, mostly because you can’t argue with your wife, but you simply shake your head before sitting back against the couch with a huff. You glare at Pietro who opens his mouth to speak, but luckily, he takes the hint, and decides to reach for his drink instead. You sigh in defeat again before you reach out for your dog who’s come to sniff around for food.
“You know, I liked it better when we were talking about you, Piet.”
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rainylana · 1 day
Text
“It’s just a cut.” Part three!
Eddie Munson x fem!reader
warnings: physical abuse, mentions of injuries and wounds, emotional turmoil, angst and lots of tears, readers mother is in jail, language, hospitals, reader and eddie are at heavy odds, mentions of betrayal and broken trust. let me know if i missed anything! original request by @h-ness1944
note: i hope everyone is doing okay! enjoy this new instillation of the series, and let me know what you thought about it! this particular series seems to take a toll, so please share your thoughts! it means the world to me!!:) as of right now, this is the final chapter. the ending isn’t necessarily a cliffhanger, but it’s not exactly a solid ending, either! hope you enjoy!
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You had shut the world out and everyone in it, refusing to speak or comply with anyone. You were throwing a tantrum, you knew that, but you were too heartbroken to care. Eddie had betrayed you, the one person you loved most in the world had done what you had asked not to do. You wouldn’t talk to the cops. You begged Eddie not to, begged him to keep his silence, but it was clear his feelings hadn’t changed. He couldn’t do it. 
He told the cops everything. From every bruise and wound he had tended, to the aches and cracks in your heart from harsh words. Of course, the police wanted to hear it from you, but from the extent of your injuries, they knew Eddie wouldn’t have been making it up.
The tried to talk to you multiple times, so did the nurses and your surgeon. Wayne tried, Eddie begged. The kids came in, so did Robin and Steve, but it was to no avail. It felt as if the whole world knew your secret. You felt nothing but shame and embarrassment, and the worst of all, betrayed and alone.
Your dad had been notified and was on the way, but the last thing you wanted was for family drama. You wanted to rot in that bed, and if you had it your way, you surely would. It had been almost two days since you last spoke to anyone. They’d given up, but not Eddie. He was determined to make you understand. He couldn’t loose you. A life without you in was one he didn’t want to have to live.
And as far as your mom went, you felt cold and empty. You didn’t know why. You didn’t care about your injuries, you’d been hurt before. You didn’t care about the mean things she had said before she pushed you down the stairs. You simply just didn’t care anymore. You didn’t want to see her, but you wished everything could go back to the way it was, as sick as it seemed. You were too hurt, too betrayed to feel anything else. All you felt was grief, and a horrible ache in your stomach.
You were to be on bedrest for the next three weeks so your wounds could heal properly, and you couldn’t wait to get the bandage off your nose so you could breath again. You looked terrible. As the days sat in your bruises began to change shape and color, your face decorated with marks of angry purple and red shades.
The only thing that could be heard in the room was the ticking of the clock, which happened to be running five minutes slow. You could barely move, only laying flat on your back with your head turned toward the window. There were so many damn flowers everyone you felt as if you were living in a greenhouse. 
Eddie had resorted to sitting outside your room. You’d made it very clear you didn’t want to see him, but he refused to leave you completely. He’d come in every now and then, asking if you needed anything, tearing up with another I’m sorry. He never got a response.
If he loved you like he said he would, he wouldn’t have betrayed you. He wouldn’t have broken your trust like he did. He wouldn’t have turned your entire world upside down and ripped out your heart. You wondered if you’d ever be able to look at him the same again.
“Ed, don’t you think you should go home and rest?” Wayne stood behind Eddie, watching him as he stared at stuffed animals in the gift shop of the hospital.
“I’m fine.” His voice was gruff and cold, almost matching yours the last time you spoke to him.
He was indeed, not fine, not in the slightest. He was completely pale and malnourished, hadn’t eaten in days or taken a shower. He hadn’t slept in almost five days, not properly, anyways. The heart in his chest that kept him alive was breaking second by second, and he wondered if it would completely shatter inside of him.
“Don’t start that with me.” Wayne comes up to the side of his nephew, glancing down at the teddy bear in his hands. “You’re not fine. You need sleep. I’ll stay with y/n. You go home and rest.”
“Wayne.” Eddie stressed, placing down the teddy bear, twirling around toward the exit of the shop. “Stop. Leave me alone.” He walked as quickly as he could out of the store, ignoring the have a good day from the check out lady. He walked with angry, heavy steps, so quickly that his hair bounced with each step of his boots. He could hear his uncle trailing behind him.
“I can’t leave her, Wayne.” He stopped in front of the elevator, pushing the button with a ringed finger. “If you want to go home go ahead, but I’m staying put.” The elevator opened and he was walking inside, leaning against the metal wall with crossed arms. “Are you coming or not?”
Of course, Wayne followed, not ready to give up on his son.
“You’re just as stubborn as she is, you know?” The old man said gruffly, the hot temperature of the elevator making him sweat. “You’re no good to her like that. You’re dead on your feet, boy.”
Eddie stared at the floor and ignored every word, at least tried to, and thought about you staring at the wall, the same spot that you had for the last two days. Would you ever speak to him again? Was any of this worth it? Would the two of you ever be the same? He knew the answer already, whether the two of you were together or not, nothing would be the same in your relationship. That was inevitable.
Your nose killed you, your face aching with the weight of your tears that had your bones throbbing with pain. Your shoulders shook with the weight of your sobs, your mouth clamped shut as to not alert anyone that you were awake. It was almost four in the morning and you’d awaken up from another bad dream. You couldn’t sleep no matter how hard you tried.
You were just so sad. You missed your mom, you’d come to that conclusion. You missed her and wanted to be home. You wanted to see your dad. You wanted to be in your own bed. But most of all, you wanted Eddie to hold you in his arms, wanted him to tell you that everything would be okay and that he loved you. You craved him more than anything.
But where did you both stand? The last thing you told him was that you’d never speak to him again, you’d threatened to break up with him. Yet he had stayed. He hadn’t left at all. Or had he? You hadn’t seen him almost all day. The thought made you sob, hoping to god that he was still outside your room.
You looked to the door, flexing your leg. You were barely able to stand with help from the nurses, you surely wouldn’t make it out there on your own. You whimpered and fell back into the bed, covering your face with your good arm, the other now in a cast, and cried brokenly.
“Y/n?”
You jumped and uncovered your face, eyes widening at the familiar face. “Wayne.” You cried, holding out your arm. You broke down into heavy tears at the sight of him as he shut the door, quickly hurrying over to you.
“Hey, hey, shh.” He sat on the bed and scooted to sit beside you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pulling you carefully into his side. “I got ya, kid. You’re okay.”
You bawled into his shirt, the comforting smell of cheap cologne and cigarette smoke brining a sense of calm over you. Your body shook in his arms, and you cried for everything in that moment, like you were mourning for the entire world.
“It’s okay, darlin. You’re okay.” His face watched etched with concern, have debating whether or not he should go get Eddie from the chapel, but he knew he’d be sound asleep. He shouldn’t leave you, he decided, holding you closer and letting you cry out everything you needed to.
“I don’t know-” Your breath hitched, fingers fisting at his shirt. “what to do.”
The weight of your sobs made it difficult to understand you completely. He kissed the top of your head, shushing you gently.
“I’m so..s-scared.” You whimpered, face burning with a broken ache. You were becoming inconsolable, hysterical with your broken heart, you didn’t even hear the door open up.
“Wayne?” Eddie’s eyes were wide at the sight of your distress, freezing him in his spot. Wayne looked from you to Eddie, knowing that it was his nephew that you really needed. He nodded him over, gently trading him spots as Eddie quickly and carefully swapped spots to hold you close.
“Shh, shh, baby, baby.” He coos, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to his chest. You’re not cold or distant, you relish the scent of him, bawling into his chest like a lost little girl. “I’m here. I’m here.”
He was so relieved to hold you, so happy that you were allowing him to comfort you. You’d probably hate him again in the morning, refuse to speak to him probably, but this, this was a step forward. He heard the click of the door shut and he was left alone with you, kissing the shell of your ear. “I’m here, baby.”
You were left with hiccups and an awkward silence that neither of you knew how to fill. He continued to hold you, almost two hours later. The sun was beginning to rise and you knew the nurses would be making their rounds to your room soon. You weren’t as relaxed into him as you were, now tense and unsure where to keep your arm.
He felt the same way. He rubbed his hand up your arm, trying to keep connected with you, but the awkwardness in the room continued to grow heavy, your tears having long since stopped. He didn’t know what to say and neither did you.
You couldn’t help but groan, your head killed you from your breakdown.
“What’s wrong?” He looked down at your face. “Did I hurt you?”
“No.” You said hoarsely, bringing your shaky hand up to your nose. “Just my nose. My head is killing me.”
He sat up, examining the darker shades of your face. “Do you want me to get a nurse?”
You shook your head quickly. “No, I’m okay.” You we’re tired of them pestering you every five minutes with medicine in little plastic cups, trying to get you to use your legs, despite the fact the doctor wanted you on bedrest.
You held your face and he watched you, swallowing dryly as he tried to find words. There was so many things he wanted to say, but would you listen? He got up and walked to the window, peeking out the blinds at the sun that was beginning to rise. He stretched awkwardly, a crick in his neck that made his own head hurt, too.
You looked at his back, trying your hardest not to cry. You had the urge to apologize, but did you have anything to apologize for? Was this your fault? Eddie was clearly suffering, but so were you.
“I’m sorry.” You blurted out. Sorry for what exactly, you didn’t know. You couldn’t forgive him, could you? Could you forgive him for the way everyone was looking at you now? Could you forgive the fact that your mom was in jail?
He twirled around, eyes narrowing in confusion at your words. “For what?”
You gulped, not able to meet his eyes. “I don’t know.” I’m sorry you’re in pain. You could be sorry for that. You still loved him, after all, despite everything that happened.
“Do you hate me?” He asked, looking toward your bed. “For telling?”
It felt so back and forth. You were so sure of your feelings one minute, then completely changed the next. “I don’t hate you.” You answer honestly, voice dry and cracked. “But It’s hard to look at you.”
He nodded once briefly. He understood the feeling. It was your turn then, to look at him, finally taking in just how rough he looked. His hair was matted and greasy, desperate to be washed. He was exhausted completely. “Have you went home at all?” You ask, halfway sat up in your bed, good hand at your stitched side.
He gulped, shaking his head.
You frowned. “Eddie,” You began. “You should go home. I’m okay.”
He finally turned away from the window, standing their awkwardly in the middle of the floor. “Do you want me to go?”
No. No, you didn’t. But it wasn’t fair to make him stay just for your sake. He looked like he was going to pass out any second. He needed food and rest. “I want you to take care of yourself.” You answer. “You don’t have to stay here on my account.”
He gave you a look then. I want you to take care of yourself. He wanted the same for you, yet he was the bad guy. He furrowed his brows, licking his fry lips. “Okay.”
He made it halfway across the room before you stopped him again. “I’m sorry, Eddie.” You say, closing your eyes.
He sighs that time, becoming irritated himself. “Why, y/n? Why are you sorry? There’s nothing for you to be sorry for.”
You shake your head, nose throbbing. “I don’t- I don’t know. I just feel like I should say it, so I am.”
His hand was on the doorknob, and he rested his forehead against the door. “You don’t know what this has been like for me. I had to tell them, y/n. I understand you’re mad, but you don’t need to apologize. You have no reason to.”
Your eyes start to tear up, and you can feel the damp feeling of your bandage against your nose. “You didn’t have to.” You look to the wall again. Your safe spot. “But I know you felt like you did.”
He scoffed without humor, looking back at you like you were crazy. His eyes were matching yours with tears. “I didn’t have to? Is that some sort of joke? Do you not realize the situation you’re in? You could have died, y/n. You almost died.”
You cringed at his words and clamped a hand over your mouth. “But mom is in jail now. She’s going to go to prison.”
“Good riddance!” He couldn’t help but raise his voice, an angry tear spilling over his face. “Fuck her! I hope she rots in there! I don’t care how upset that makes you, y/n, it’s true. She’s a shit mom and deserves what she got!”
You sobbed with each word that spat, glaring at him over your fingers with a look that could kill. “That’s not true! She’s my mom, Eddie! I’m okay!”
“No, you’re not!” He marched over and pointed his finger at you. “You flew through a fuckin’ window and tore your stomach to shreds!” He took a deep breath, that soon had him releasing a sob. “Do you know how scared I was waiting for you to come out of surgery? The doctors didn’t know if you’d pull through, y/n. Do you have any idea how fucking messed up in the head I am now?” He was weeping freely, pacing across the room.
“Don’t you dare say you’re okay.” He said sternly. “Do you really care that little for yourself? Do you hate yourself so much that you don’t care for your own safety? Do you want to die that badly? Well, I won’t watch it. I won’t sit here and watch you wilt away. I can’t, baby.”
You were blubbering and carrying on, saying things that couldn’t understand. “I’m sorry.” He managed to hear through your broken sobs. “I’m so sorry, Eddie!”
You looked up at him with a bloodied nose, hot tears and snot pooling at your cupid’s bow. “I’m sorry that I’ve hurt you so bad, Eddie. Please, please don’t leave me!”
“Y/n,” He crumbled, going to you. “Stop apologizing, you silly girl.” No matter the fight, he would always go to you. “Aren’t you listening to me? You haven’t done anything. It’s your mother. She’s the one who’s hurt you, hurt us.”
He held your face and wiped the blood from your nose. “Please, forgive me, baby. I’m sorry. I promise, I won’t ever let you get hurt again. I’ll protect you if you let me, please let me.”
He’s kissing your hands, moving up your good arm and to your cheek. “God, I missed you, baby.”
“I love you.” You cried, gripping at his shoulder. “I’ll forgive you if you forgive me.”
I love you. He sobbed at the words. You still loved him. He said it back lovingly, muttering the words he forgave you as you said the same. Neither of you realized just how hard it would be to move forward, but that was the thing about love, it conquered above all else.
Over time, you’d come to terms about your mom. Your dad would move down to Hawkins until you graduated, where eventually you and Eddie would have your own place. The abuse you had endured would be something that would always stick with you, but Eddie was your rock at the end of the day, and he’s the one that got you through it. Love always conquered all.
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bumblesimagines · 2 days
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The Clouds and The Stars
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Request: Yes or No
Sequel one shot to The Sun and Moon!
Pronouns: He/Him/His
~~~
Married life... such a curious thing. Many grew up with an expectation as to how it would be, mostly based on their own parents' relationship. There were the happy parents who formed a love match and loved each other with their whole hearts. There were the friendly parents who were more friends than partners but still cared for one another. Then, there were the saddening parents who either due to a forced marriage or perhaps because of time grew to despise each other, only tolerating each other for the sake of their children whom they unknowingly harm with their arguments and jabs. 
(Y/N) grew up with friendly parents. Lucy and Henry had ended their respective social seasons by marrying under the guise of being madly in love in order to chase after what they truly wanted, even if their desires had to be kept behind closed doors and only exposed to trusted individuals. Secrecy had always been a part of his life, even when it involved marriage, and he supposed now, as he lied in bed and watched the sun peek through the curtains, he'd truly followed in his parents' footsteps. At least, however, he'd found someone. Found more than one, in fact. 
"Love," (Y/N) couldn't help but smile as Anthony sighed into his ear, his muscular arm tightening around him and pulling him closer to his chest. Anthony buried his face in the crook of his neck and inhaled deeply, lips pressing against his skin before he hooked his chin over (Y/N)'s shoulder. He gently nudged him, a soft grunt leaving him when (Y/N) remained still. "Love."
"What is it?" (Y/N) chuckled and finally shifted, moving onto his back and peering up at Anthony when he propped himself up onto his elbow. Anthony smiled at him, cheeky and pleased, one hand moving to cup his face and rub his thumb soothingly over his cheek, a warm twinkle in his dark eyes. (Y/N) felt his skin flush under such an adoring gaze. 
"I simply wished to see my husband's beautiful face, is all." Anthony cooed, and (Y/N) smile widened tenfold, a bashful and breathy laugh escaping him. They weren't married to each other, not legally or in the eyes of the church at least, but in their hearts and to their families they were. Many in the ton suspected but with Queen Charlotte's silence and Lady Whistledown calling their dance together a 'much-needed change for such dreary balls', anyone with suspicions or beliefs remained silent. Of course, they still had to remain a secret, lest someone grew annoyed enough to reach out to the church. 
"Such a charmer, Anthony." (Y/N) spoke teasingly, sighing softly against Anthony's mouth when he swooped down to kiss him. Anthony pressed harder against his lips and fully rolled over, laying ontop of the painter and only pulling away to trail kisses down his jawline and to his neck. Always so hungry, so needy and clingy. "Anthony, we have things to do-"
"They can wait," Anthony murmured against his skin, one hand slipping under his shirt while the other took his hand and locked their fingers together. (Y/N) rolled his eyes and released a breathy laugh, breath nearly hitching when Anthony needily rolled his hips. "We have time."
"It's an important day, Anthony. Francesca will need her brother today, you know." (Y/N) reminded him, dipping his fingers beneath Anthony's chin and gripping it lightly so he could tilt his head up. Anthony sighed dramatically, putting his full weight down on him and bringing their intertwined hands toward his face, a gentle kiss pressing against the back of (Y/N)'s hand. (Y/N) smiled.
"Suppose we should be quick, then." Anthony grinned mischievously, his free hand pushing up (Y/N)'s shirt and head dipping to pepper kisses along his stomach. 
"Anthony!" (Y/N) tried not to laugh too loudly, mindful of those still slumbering in the nearby rooms. He could hear the maids and servants bustling around, likely readying the house and preparing breakfast. Such a big day for the Bridgerton family again, and yet, there lied the Viscount, acting like a hormonal boy all over again. (Y/N) swatted at his shoulder and pushed himself up but it only prompted Anthony's head to dip even lower. "Anthony Bridgerton!"
Releasing a muffled laugh, Anthony finally relented and sat back, his hand still keeping an iron grip on (Y/N)'s no matter how hard the painter trying to pull back. (Y/N) groaned again in fake annoyance that only made Anthony giggle like a child and reach out to pull him onto his lap. He leaned in, pressing their lips together again. (Y/N) melted against him and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, squeezing Anthony's hand and feeling his fingers tighten even more. 
"If only-" (Y/N) leaned back, briefly interrupted when Anthony pecked his lips again. "-you put this much effort into having an heir with Steph." 
"Mm, I've been busy and she seems more than content with her... lady friends," Anthony said, nuzzling his face into (Y/N)'s chest. "If you'd been a lady, I'm certain you'd be expecting by now." 
"Yes, I'm aware. You've made that abundantly clear, Lord Bridgerton. I don't understand how you can have this much stamina." (Y/N) shook his head with a soft laugh, sweetly kissing the top of his head and exhaling softly. "But, I am not a lady nor your wife, Anthony. You need an heir. I'm sure it won't take too many attempts."
"And what of you and Kate? I'm sure you nor she will have this difficulty if you try for children of your own. We have each other's blessings, you know. If you'd like to have a child-"
"We've been breaching the topic, actually." (Y/N) revealed, finally untangling his hand from Anthony's and rising up from the bed, searching for the clothes he kept in Anthony's home for days he spent the night. Because of their predicament regarding Anthony's position as Viscount and their inability to wed publicly or have children, both men agreed to take on brides. Stephanie provided the perfect candidate for Viscountess and (Y/N) had always held affection for Kate. "She's more than happy to have children. She thinks two is a good number, in fact, so they have someone to keep them company."
"How many do you think Steph will want?" Anthony sighed, standing up as well to get dressed.
"Well, if you have a boy first... I think you'll both be content with just one." (Y/N) chuckled, slipping his coat on and adjusting the ends of it while Anthony began taking clothes out of the closet. The thought of parenthood, of fatherhood, hung over the two of them, both exciting and nerve-wracking. The four of them would care for the children together, that'd already been agreed upon, but still... bringing life into the world? It made (Y/N) queasy yet... pleased. 
"If you and I could have children," Anthony whistled sharply, a grin spreading across his face and fingers swiftly buttoning up his shirt. "We'd have a bigger brood than Mother." 
"I don't doubt it." (Y/N) retrieved Anthony's coat from its spot draped over the armrest and approached him, helping him slip his arms through and adjusting it for him. He smiled, finishing the last button of his shirt and fixing the collar before tugging Anthony closer to kiss him. "You're insatiable, Anthony."
"Only for you." Anthony cooed, gearing up to lean in again but the sound of the door opening made him pause.
Stephanie dramatically gasped at the sight of them, lifting a hand to her head and fanning herself rapidly. "Oh, Kate, what ever will we do? How could they do this to us?" She gasped again, a teasing smile stretching across her face as Kate giggled and gently nudged her and walked further into the room. (Y/N) rolled his eyes at Stephanie but smiled widely at Kate, pulling away from Anthony to extend his arms out toward her. 
"My darling wife." He greeted warmly, coiling his arms around her waist and planting a kiss between her brows. Kate hummed softly, leaning her head down to rest it on his shoulder. Stephanie stopped at Anthony's side, taking a quick look over his clothes before nodding approvingly and curling her arm around his. 
"Shall we get to it? Breakfast is ready and Violet has been fretting over Francesca nonstop. She's worried about the poor girl." Stephanie told them and Anthony sighed heavily, leaning over to kiss (Y/N)'s temple and nod to Kate. The Viscount and Viscountess fell into conversation and exited the room, leaving Kate and (Y/N) alone. 
"So, my darling husband," Kate began with a small laugh, lifting her head and smoothing out his shirt with her palms, her keen eyes searching for anything out of place before rising to look him in the eye. She smiled, pecking his cheek. "We have a long day ahead of us, as you know. Ready for this social season?"
"As long as I have you and Anthony and Steph, I'll always be ready."
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freyaphoria · 19 hours
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Ateez Reactions: When You Use Safeword (Hyung Line)
tw: ugh i am not good at writing tw but it is smut lol, choking, slapping, degrading, I AM SHY OKAY bj, ahem cockwarming, using safeword obv, ahem bye
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Hongjoong
You had been sitting between his legs, pleasuring him, for about 15 minutes. Your mind was starting to get blurry and you would have collapsed on the ground if he hadn't held you by your hair and guided you. It all started to become too much. You weren't yourself because he tease you and delayed you before. Suddenly he took his free hand to your throat and started squeezing it. He was already big enough that blocking all your airways; He made it twice as bad by strangling you. "You like it when I use you like a slut, don't you? Aww so cute, you can't even talk" Suddenly you realized you couldn't take it anymore and hit his thigh three times. With lightning speed, Hongjoong removed his hand from your neck and hair and carefully removed himself from your mouth. "Love, was it too much?" He observed you carefully. You were trying to breathe. "Joong, I am so sorr-" He pulled you close and stroked your hair. "Don't. Don't apologize. I'm really sorry I didn't notice before." You regained your breath. "Wait, let me get you water" You grabbed him by the arm. "Just stay with me."
Seonghwa
"Open wider." He commanded in a stern tone. Your legs were shaking so much now that you couldn't even tell if you had opened them wider or not. "I said. Open. Wider." Now you were sobbing. "I... I don't..." He hit your thigh hard. "You don't what doll?" You felt his voice vibrating inside you. You tried to grab his hair and pull his head away from you, but he grabbed both of your hands and pinned them next to your hips. "Stop... I can't- anymore" He couldn't hear you or didn't want to hear you. "Hwa!" He was lost between your legs. "Shut up. I swear if you try to close your legs again" You panicked. "Hwa! stars!" Still between your legs, he looked up at you to see if he heard correctly. The look of discomfort on your face was a sign that he heard correctly. He instantly pulled away from your legs. "Doll? Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?" You nod your head and released your hands from his grasp, covering your face. "I'm sorry. Don't hide from me." He took your hands away from your face. "I think I went too far." He instantly got out of bed and went towards the bathroom. You closed your eyes for a moment to regain your composure. You woke up when he grabbed your legs and waist and carried you to the bathroom to clean you.
Yunho
You turned your head back and looked at the computer. You see there are 13 minutes left in the match. You didn't know if you could last 13 more minutes. "Hm, you want to watch? I can turn you around." He pull out of you, picked you up and placed you back on his lap. With this move, you were now on the edge. You couldn't come without his permission and it was starting to hurt. "Yunho I can't stand it anymore." "Yes you can and you will." He replied to you with his eyes still on the screen. When he put his hands on your belly and pressed it, you were really at the limit. Your walls were squeezing him like crazy. "If you keep squeezing me , you can't come for the next 20 minutes." If Yunho threatens you, he will definitely do it. You couldn't stand another 20 minutes. "Yunho, red!" He looked at you instantly. "Angel? You want me to pull out of you?" You shook your head. "What do you want angel? Use your words please." You were relieved when you had his attention. "Let me come. It hurts." He stood up from his gaming chair while he was still inside you. He put you to bed. "Okay, darling. I'll take care of you."
Yeosang
He hit you hard on the cheek. You were in such a position that your leg was numb. "Are you going to continue being a stupid attention seeking bitch again or have you learned your lesson?" You could only hum. You couldn't put the words together. "Or should I watch my best friend fuck you like a cheap whore? What do you think, would you like it?" He was fucking you with incredible speed. What you did was just ask Wooyoung questions about the movie he watched. You didn't think this might trigger Yeosang. "Answer me when I talk to you!" It was maybe the 30th time he slapped you. The insults he said had become very serious indeed. Normally your sexual relationship was like this, but today you were so tired and everything was breaking you. Tears began to flow from your eyes. "Are you going to cry now?" He said sassily. You came for a while but everything was so intense that only Yeosang noticed. When it started to build up again, you tried to push him. This strange movement of yours caught his attention and he slowed down a bit. “Slut, what is your color?” You didn't want it to end completely. You just didn't want him to humiliate you that much. "Yellow." He slowed down his pace inside you. He was barely moving. "Do you want to take a break?" You shook your head. "No, just slow down a little." He kissed your head. "Sorry love. I will be more gentle now."
I wrote smut for the first time is it okay? Did I write correctly lol? Pls let me know if I wrote something stupid
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angelnix · 2 days
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slow mornings in january.
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young!politician!snow ; a year after your arranged marriage with coriolanus, the two of you have gotten quite close now.
── a/n: a short fic for now ! might make this a series if im not too lazy <3
divider creds go to cafekitsune !
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the first january.
"good morning, coryo." you softly coo, feeling the hangover hit you like a brick. you & your husband had hosted a new years party just last night, with lots and lots of drinking involved. the boy turns over from his position in bed with you, facing you with a soft smile.
"good morning to you too, doll. hows the hangover doin' ya?" he grasps you waist, pulling you closer. the two of you are skin-to-skin, just how you like it.
it's been a year since the marriage, you'll confess— it wasn't easy to get accustomed to the married life, especially being married to a complete stranger.
but it's been good. you've been good. the empty feeling in the snow home, gone after a few months, specifically one late night.
"d'you really gotta get up early today?" giving him the doe eyes, you pout. not wanting him to go to work right after a mind-aching party. since you two have familiarized yourselves with each other, being worried about the others wellbeing is quite normal now.
he sighs, "y'know i don't wanna." burying his face into your neck, murmuring, "i'd much rather stay here with you, take care of you and that hangover of yours."
coriolanus having his own caring side was a shock to you, his usually stoic demeanor dominating his personality.
you play with his platinum curls, the softness filling your hand. "i can fend for myself, hon."
"but most of the maids arent here." he follows, "are you sure? and your sure you won't get too bored without me?"
"yes baby, i can most certainly take care of myself— and yes, i won't get too bored without you here." you chuckle sweetly, "i'll miss you, though."
you can feel him pouting, his hot breath still on you. he whines, "i'll miss you so much too."
his soft side comforts you, bringing a warmth you've never felt before. he makes you feel childish, in the best possible way.
you two lay there for a while, you playing with his hair and him breathing into your neck. you clear your throat, "as much as i don't want you to, you should get to work hon."
he groans, "alright then, i'll get ready now.", you can feel a tinge of grump in his voice. coriolanus gets up, placing a kiss on your forehead before leaving.
˖ ࣪ . 🦢 ࿐ ˚ .
its been a bit since he left, youre still in bed, but you've picked up a dainty little book to read for the day. a knock on the door is heard, "good morning, mrs. snow.— sir is leaving for the day and asked if you'd like to meet him before he leaves.", a maid utters quitely, she's a shy little lady, but you don't mind.
you straighten up, leaving the bed and taking a peek at the mirror before leaving your bedroom. walking downstairs, you hear the car engine running, arriving down, you see coriolanus patiently waiting for your goodbye.
his hands are tucked into the pockets of his red coat, his hair is slicked back. something about him feels so husky, so goddamn handsome.
you give him a wide smile, meeting his eyes.
"hey, doll. 'bout to leave now, kiss me goodbye?"
you tiptoe, face closer to his. you make an audible mwah! noise as you kiss him, the playfulness displayed in your eyes. you pull away, "i love you", you mutter. he cups your face, thumb on your bottom lip, "i love you more."
he leaves and you follow him out of the house, watching him enter the car as you wave him goodbye. "stay safe!" you shout, blowing him a kiss before the car leaves entirely. your softness elicits a smile from the usually stern man.
you enter back inside, now, what shall you do for today?
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