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#its hard for me to apologize for anything more than i might have worded it weird
storm-of-feathers · 10 months
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cant sleep gonna say my thoughts.
I think what a lot of people miss about tumblr (and especially unfocused blogs that, say, aren't fandom oriented) is that it's essentially an open journal. it's a microblogging website, and all blogging micro or macro is fundamentally a web log (where the term comes from!). if it seems like I'm not talking ab something enough, it's not because I don't care at all.
It's because first and foremost, this blog is a piece of my soul that I am choosing to share. I'm not trying to be an activist on the internet, I'm not trying to sway anyone to my opinions. I'm saying the things I think and feel. If I talk ab american politics too much, that's because im american. if I'm writing frustrated posts about performative internet activism, that's because it feels exhausting to be out there doing the work (because that's what it is. Its work. Its boring and taxing and it feels like youre getting nowhere. Until you see how far youve come) and having to come to tumblr and seeing people say I didn't talk about [disaster 30000 of the past ten years] enough.
if I seem angry and upset and scared and irrational, its because i am those things. you have to understand. in spite of my rather large follower number, this blog is, first and foremost, for me. I am writing things down and allowing strangers and friends and wanderers to read it. I won't call it a privilege that can be taken away, bc its not like some of my thoughts are exactly a treat, but it is something to keep in mind.
if you ask me why I'm talking about the supreme courts recent decisions but not similar decisions in other countries, the answer comes down to "one of those directly affects me, and therefore i can fight back."
but I shouldn't have to announce where and how I'm fighting back. if for no other reason, my own fucking safety. but also bc this blog isn't any sort of guide to activism, it's not any type instruction. it is, at best, my diary that I published.
and that isn't a bad thing!! and it shouldn't be!!! that's why I harped so hard on the carrd post. that's why I'm vaguely annoyed with my reddit posts. that's why I shared my marital status and sexuality for a long time. that's why i have a rwby icon. that's why my blog title which hasn't changed since 2018 is what it is.
I understand that sometimes I have opinions people don't like. oceangate in particular has proven to be a fantastic example of that. But i am, at the most basic terminology, venting my thoughts and feelings.
that's why I'm talking ab the supreme court and their awful decisions. why I may not be talking about issues that don't directly affect me, but might affect some of you. it's not because i don't care. It's never because I don't care.
It's because my target audience is a mirror.
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sp0o0kylights · 7 months
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Bullshit.
The word rings obnoxiously in Steve’s ears as he pushes his way out back, not wanting to be anymore of a talking piece at this party than he already was.
He’d just wanted Nancy to stop drinking, take a second, pace herself…
Steve swipes furiously at his eyes, and then curses when it nearly causes him to run into Chrissy Cunnginham, who’s perched in a chair tucked away from the patio door.
“Sorry, sorry.” He apologizes, trying not to sound like he’s upset, trying to keep his cool--only for her to look up and away, brushing off her own tears.
“Oh.” Steve says, a little laugh bubbling out of him. “You too huh?”
Thankfully she correctly interprets that he's not laughing at her, and adds her own giggle to the mix, the sound gentle even if pitched in upset.
"Boy problems?" Steve asks her, sinking down to the vacant chair on Chrissy's right.
She nods, clasping her hands together in her lap.
"Girl problems?" She asks back, and he grimaces a smile.
They sit for a minute, Steve pulling out a cigarette and offering it to her before lighting up. Chrissy shakes her head, and though her nose curls a little at the smoke she doesn’t say anything.
Neither of them do, staring at the few people bringing the party outside in the way only drunk teenagers can.
"Can I tell you something?" Chrissy says finally, as Steve continues to struggle to keep himself breathing evenly (and not spiraling. He still has to go back and try and escort Nancy home, and he needs to keep his temper when he does it.)
She licks her lips. "I keep trying to break up with Jason, but he won't let me."
It takes a second for the words to register, but when they do he leans himself towards chrissy in concern. “What do you mean, he won’t let you?”
“He’s not--it’s not…”She trails off, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. “He talks me out of it is all.”
She’s downplaying it, and Steve’s concern grows tenfold. “Does he argue with you or just…tells you no or something?”
"It's complicated." Chrissy says, refusing to look at him. "He has this vision for me, for us."
Steve watches as she worries at a hangnail.
Feels the need to reach out and take her hand, but keeps his own hands to himself.
If Steve has learned anything, it's that not everyone wants to be touched as much as he does.
"He keeps telling me I'm just being anxious. That I should trust him, and I do, he just expects me to always do what he says? And more and more lately I--"
She huddles down into the little cat costume she's wearing, pulling the thin black sweater around her. "I want different things than he does."
Steve wonders vaguely if Nancy wants different things.
Or a different person entirely.
"That's not fair to you." Steve says, leaning forward and lowering his own voice. "He can't keep you in a relationship you don't want to be in."
A hard thing for him to say, after the bathroom conversation but this is different.
‘Please, let this be different.’ He thinks, before pushing the thought aside.
"He can't force you to do what he wants just because he wants it, or thinks its best. He should be listening to you and what you want too. Relationships are about…compromise right?” It’s what he’s heard anyway, though most of the time “compromise” means “letting the other person get what they want.”
Which is what he thought he’d been doing for Nancy all this time.
“I can help you if you want. Be your," Steve poorly mimes waving a pom pom. "cheer support."
Chrissy looks at him, eyes still wet. "You would?"
"Of course.” He says, before scooting just a smidgen closer. “Might have to ask you to return the favor though. Nancy said some things tonight and I could really use a second--”
A loud curse makes them both startle, interrupting Steve.
Together, they look around before another noise, like bark being scraped, draws both their attention to the large oak that stands in the backyard.”
"Is…is that Eddie Munson?" Chrissy asks.
"I think so."
Chrissy squints a little, as if not quite believing what she's seeing. "Is…he stuck in a tree?"
Steve finds himself staring in his own disbelief, hands moving to his hips as he watches Munsons wriggling, cursing form.
"I think so." He repeats with a shake of his head.
Eddie's foot slips off a branch, once, twice.
"Hey--" Steve calls out in warning, but unfortunately it comes too late.
The branch under his foot gives away with a startling crack! as another branch shreds Munson's jacket as his full weight caches on it.
"Oh!" Chrissy gasps, hand flying to her mouth as Eddie falls right onto his ass with a yelp.
"You good man?" Steve asks, rising from his chair, hesitant to go over but needing to make sure the idiot hasn't cracked his skull open.
Chrissy has no such qualms, popping up to run over to Munson.
"You're bleeding." She tells him worriedly, dropping to her knees to get a better look.
"Well shit." Munson says with a wonky grin. “I’m sorry.”
“What are you apologizing for?” Chrissy asks, as Steve’s newly honed babysitting instincts kick in and drive him to get up and look at Munson’s injury himself.
Chrissy carefully strokes the older teen’s hair out of his face, as Steve bends down to check his head and neck.
"You hurt anywhere?" He asks, spotting the scratch that had Chrissy worried.
It’s on his forehead--the guy must have knocked his face against the tree when he fell. Head injuries always bleed a ton but this one's well contained to a small scrape.
Probably not a concern, though Steve looks at his pupils anyways.
"Nah, I’m pine. I didn't mean to drop in on you guys.” He waves a hand behind him before dropping his voice to a dramatic whisper. “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted that tree, it was pretty shady.”
Steve, long trained by Dustin, narrows his eyes. "Are you making puns right now?"
"Maybe?" Munson hedges, looking delighted to have been called out.
“Uh huh.” Steve puts his hands back on his hips, straightening up from where he’d crouched down. “Your head okay? You remember your name and shit?”
“Edward Edwardian Munson, present and ready for duty!” He gives a mock salute, before dropping Chrissy a wink. “If the duty is drinking and playing games that is.”
“Your middle name cannot be Edwardian.” Chrissy laughs.
"It is!" He defends, at the same time Steve says,
“It's not "
“Oh?” Munson challenges, as if this entire situation isn’t ridiculous. “Then what is my middle name, Sir Steven?”
“No idea, but I know it’s not that.”
Munson blows a raspberry at him. “Well then, maybe you should mind your own beeswax."
"Like you were doing? Up in the tree right above us?" Steve banters back.
The playful look dies a little, Munson beginning the painful process of standing after one falls.
"For the record, I absolutely was not eavesdropping, you guys just happened to be under the tree I climbed and I was there first. " He says it rapidly, like he's used to being accused of such things, and is heading off as many problems as he can.
Steve just ignores it, opting instead to hold his hands out. One to Chrissy and one to Eddie.
Watches surprise cross the older teens face, even as he waits for Chrissy to get up before accepting Steve's hand.
"Why were you up a tree? The family dog run you up there?" Steve grunts as he pulls the metalhead up.
"Funny." Munson quipped sarcastically. "But no. I was up there for reasons."
'Reasons.' Steve mouths, and has to fight himself to keep from grinning.
"Even though I was there first, I did happen to hear some things." He looks at Chrissy, voice turning serious. "If you need any help getting things through Carver's thick skull I'd love to lend a hand."
"You would cheer for me too?"
"Oh absolutely. I'd make a far better cheerleader than Harrington here." He shoots a grin towards Steve to take the edge off the words, before doing a far more enthusiastic mimicry of the cheerleaders pom pom routine.
"But I know how much Carver hates the word no. If you break up with him and he gives you shit after, I'm happy to step in."
Steve hadn't actually thought about that yet, but given what he knew of Jason it makes sense.
He could easily see Chrissy worrying about Jason harassing her after the break up.
"Thank you. Both of you." She sniffs. "Eddie, are you sure you're okay?"
"Right as rain!" Munson gives a rather theatrical thumbs up. "I'll let you in on a family secret, we Munson's have rubber bones."
She gives him another giggle for his efforts, and even Steve can’t fully cover his
Munson, the ass, notices.
“Well call me the court jester, I got both the King and Queen to smile!” He cheers.
Steve rolls his eyes, but doesn't deny it.
"Chrissy!?" Someone barks, loud in the otherwise quiet backyard.
"Speak of the devil." Eddie drops his voice dramatically as Jason strides out of the house.
"I've been looking for you." He chides, two of his friends following close behind.
They're younger members of the basketball team, ones Steve's brain sluggishly attempts to remember.
"Are your knees dirty?" Jason asks Chrissy, disgust tinting his voice as he slowly looks from her to Munson next to her.
His eyes narrow, expression almost offronted.
"You heathen." Jason snarls, stepping forward with a fist clenched.
It was a move right of the sitcoms Steve swore he didn't watch, and it looked just as cheesy in real life as it did on screen.
"Calm down." Steve speaks up, hands going to his hips.
Jason's head jerks as he registers him, so focused on Munson that Steve slipped his notice entirely.
"Harrington?" He asks, as if Steve could be mistaken for anyone else here.
Steve gives him jazz hands in return.
"What are you doing out here?" Jason speaks only to Steve, whole body angling towards him like he's the only person who matters.
It's something Steve's dad does, if there's a businessman he considers to be an equal in the room. Zoning in on them, so he can subtly work in ways to make them feel inferior.
It's narcissism at its core (or so says his mother, when she's blitzed out on too many glasses of wine.)
"Talking to people." Steve deadpans. "If you're looking for beer, you walked past it."
Jason entire face pinches, like he just stepped in dog shit. "No one just talks to Munson."
It's a stupid thing to say, and whatever Hason was trying to imply with it wasn't appreciated.
"Well mark me as the first." Steve's hip cocks, voice frosting over.
Surprise washes across Munson's face, though he remains silent as Steve deals with Jason.
Probably a smart move, given how Jason seems to be eager for a fight.
"Whatever it is you're doing, you can leave Chrissy out of it." He says, and god his voice even sounds like Steve's dad.
"Chrissy," Steve says, with an eyebrow raise he knows looks judgemental, "can speak for herself."
He turns to face her, inviting her to the conversation, in the same way he'd always wished someone would invite his mother to speak against his father.
Watches as the cheerleader bites her lip, trying hard to hide the tears that have sprung to her eyes--but proves that she's stronger than Steve's mother ever was.
She steps forward, taking the opportunity offered to her with a steadying breath. "Jason--"
"You can explain it to me later." Her boyfriend waves her off, like she was a waitress offering water and not his partner.
Uncaring entirely that she's clearly upset.
That she wants to talk.
Munson has come to stand on Chrissy's other side, gone still in a way Steve's never seen him do.
It's downright weird for a guy who's normally always moving, and Steve knows it's defensive.
He's feeling a little defensive himself right now, though he doesn't want to particularly untangle why.
"Jason, listen to me." Chrissy tries again.
In his preffery vision, Steve spots a flash of familiar color. Turns his head automatically, seeking it out--and sees Jonathan hustling Nancy across the room.
The younger man is trying to balance Nancy while opening the front door, and for a second Steve almost beelines for them, except--
Except.
Nancy's whole body moves in what Steve intimately knows is an exhale, leaning her head in the crook of Jonathan's shoulder.
One arm wraps around his waist, as Jonathan finally gets the door open, and Steve watches with a stunned sort of horror as his girlfriend presses a kiss to Jonathan's shoulder.
It's fine.
He's fine.
Nancy was just--drunk. Seeking comfort. She didn't know what she was doing. She didn't mean it like that, she didn't--
"Oh shit Harrington." Jason drawls, a lazy sort of taunt. "I think Byers just stole your girlfriend."
Steve's head snaps back to him, the emotions he was attempting to box up flying to the front of his brain like dogs who slipped their leash.
"Never thought a priss like Nancy would be easy like that, but then, you never were the kind of guy to inspire loyalty." Jason continues, clearly ignoring his own girlfriend and all Steve can see is red.
Munson sucks air between his teeth next to him, nervously eyeing Steve while Chrissy's eyes have gone wide with shock and growing anger.
"Jason!" She admonishes, but he's not even looking towards her.
That too sharp smile is all for Steve.
He thinks of Nancy, the way she'd been so angry with him but so gentle with Jonathan.
He thinks of the monster he faced down in the Byers house, the terror that had shrank down to that same adrenaline soaked focus he had on the basketball court.
He thinks of this asshole Junior in front of him.
Making Chrissy cry just because she'd been kind enough to try to help Eddie, and accept Eddie's kindness in return when the weirdo tried to help her and Steve both.
Steve taps his foot, then switches his stance.
'Plant your feet.' Hargroves voice snarls in his memory and Steve wouldn't be surprised if the asshole abandons the keg long enough to come watch this.
Have his turn at heckling, just because he can.
Steve plants his feet anyway.
"You know what Carver?" He says, hands dropping from his hips.
Jason's face curves into a smile. "What?" He says, tone smarmy.
"You're full of shit."
Hand cocking back of its own accord, Steve puts every bit of himself into his punch.
Feels it reverberate up his arm as his knuckles connect to Jason's cheek.
It's going to hurt later, but right now all he can do is stand over Jason as the asshole's head snaps sideways, legs staggering him backwards until he's falling into his friends.
Chrissy gasps, Jason's boys chanting variations of 'Oh shit!'
Steve just glares him down.
The junior wipes his bloodied mouth, letting his friends push him up before shrugging them off.
"You're going to regret that." Jason snarls, and Steve squares up a second time, expecting to be rushed, when the sharp snickt! of a switchblade freezes them both.
"I think we're done here." Munson says, knife in hand.
The blade he holds is stained a deep, russet red. Crusty flakes fall off it, drifting gently down to the patio floor.
Jason's eyes boggle at it for a moment before he stands up straight.
"Now it makes sense. You're weak, Harrington, letting the Freak get his claws into you." Jason spits bloodstained saliva down at Eddie's feet. "No wonder Coach wants Billy as co-captain!"
Steve just scoffs.
"Chrissy!" Carver barks, making the poor girl jump. "Come here, we're leaving!"
Trembling, but stepping closer to Steve, she shakes her head.
"Chrissy." Jason orders again, and has the audacity to point to his feet, like a man commanding his dog.
"No." Chrissy says it quietly at first, voice a little shaky, before she seems to realize it.
She stands taller, repeats herself in a stronger voice. "No, Jason. We're done."
Jason stares at her, hard. "Chrissy, your mother told me to bring you home. So I'm going to take you home and get you away from this--demon and his lackey!"
It doesn't sound loving.
It sounds like a threat.
He steps forward, hand out to grab her arm and Steve tenses, shifting to step in front of Chrissy.
Eddie beats him there.
The word demon seems to awaken something in him, because his face is now grinning theatrically, voice dipping low in pitch.
"You heard her, Carver. She said no, and even I respect a lady's wish. So run along now," he walks two fingers in the air, from the hand not waving the knife around. "before I decide to make you and her both one of mine, just as I did Harrington!"
Jason actually crosses himself, before making one last attempt for Chrissy.
"That monster is dangerous. if you don't come with me, I'll have to alert your parents." He locks eyes with her. "For the good of your soul."
Steve snorts at that crock of shit, but Eddie lunges forward, slashing the knife in the air.
It's nowhere near Jason, but the guy leaps a foot back anyway.
"Begone!" Eddie booms, and that's all it takes for Jason and his cronies to huff and puff and stride away.
He keeps his arms in the air for a few beats more, before dropping them when it's clear Jason won't be back.
"So I'm yours, huh?" Steve drawls, as Eddie finally puts his hands down and turns to face them.
The guys scary face drops into something almost excited, and Steve can practically see the adrenaline crackling through him.
"Hey it worked. Carver's a religious nut, he goes running anytime you even hint at Satan." Eddie shrugs, grinning wildly. "Put on a little show and poof! Him and his flying monkeys melt away!"
He mimes melting and Steve stares at him for it, until he hears Chrissy laughing next to him.
Eddie grins at her and Steve is hit with the realization that it was for her benefit. To make her feel better about her psycho ex.
Something fond and familiar winds through his chest as the other boy bows.
He refuses to put a name to it.
"Did you paint your knife?" He asks instead, rubbing the hand he hit Jason with.
"What?" Eddie asks, startled out of his court jester act.
Steve nods to his hand holding the switchblade. "That's not blood, it's way too red."
"Ah." Eddie turns the grin back on, and this time it's for Steve. "Yeah, it's uh. Modeling paint. Not like Carver would know the difference."
Unspoken was the fact that he hadn't thought Steve would.
Prior to last year, he'd have been right.
Drunken cheering erupts into wild yells inside, breaking whatever spell the three of them were under.
Hargrove's voice is the loudest among them, and the dude is definitely wasted.
Steve has a feeling Hargrove also knows the difference between paint and blood, rendering Munson's knife trick useless if the dick tried to start something.
"Do you want a ride home, Chrissy?" He asks quietly.
"If it's not a bother." She says, wiping tears shed refused to let fall from her eyes.
Chrissy Cunningham was a lot stronger than people gave her credit for.
"Come on, Munson, I think it's time we all make our exit." Steve says, finding himself weirdly unwilling to leave the older teen behind.
Eddie could hold his own, but given how badly things were playing out Steve figured it was best if they all just called it a day.
"Yeah lemme just…" Munson puts his blade away, fumbling at his pockets for a moment before turning and snatching up a metal lunchbox.
"There! After you, my liege." He says, before opening the lunchbox to make it talk.
"My lady." He makes it say, pitching his voice high.
Chrissy breaks into giggles again and Steve rolls his eyes, but he claps his good hand on Eddie's shoulder as he walks past.
Eddie smiles at him, this one a bit softer than the others, eyes sparkling and Steve chooses not to read into that either.
The three of them walk together, Eddie splitting off to his van after Chrissy thanks him.
Part Two
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disneyprincemuke · 6 months
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fly on the wall * fem!driver
she crashes in her third race of her f1 career, but she's more concerned about its repercussions than the concussion
pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, lewis hamilton x fem!reader
warnings: crashing the car
notes: ooooh my god i had to rewrite this 5 times because it wasn't up to my liking initially, and then tumblr was having some issues saving my shit so i lost it?? it's very sad fr
(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)
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"are you alright?" sebastian's voice comes onto the radio.
his eyes are trained on the big screen, cameras focused on the car parked into the wall out of a turn. he couldn't get an answer out of his driver so he had to resort to the third party.
if his assumptions are correct, she would have hit her head on her seat hard at impact. but things like that can lead to so many bigger things that he might not even be prepared for. 
her vision slowly returns, blacking out for a mere second as the car went into the barriers of the baku track.
she had issues with her brakes for a few laps. sebastian had suggested retiring the car if she didn't feel safe, but she pressed on. the issue didn't seem so serious and it seemed manageable.
at first. 
it's a driver error - missing the early braking point to accommodate her already tweaking brakes. she missed it by a millisecond, clipped the wall and got sent straight into the wall.
she sighs, pressing the button on her steering wheel. "i'm okay," she answers shakily, tears now filling her eyes.
"okay, that's the important part. don't think about anything else. i'll see you in the medical centre." sebastian is quick to shut her thoughts down, clearly prioritising her wellbeing and not the car.
"i'm sorry," she sighs, voice shaking and lips quivering. “i’m so sorry, seb.”
this is only her third race in f1, how could she have already crashed out? on a race where she was so close to that podium. it would have been such a monumental moment — a woman on the podium. 
with 20 laps left in the race and her in 5th place, it wasn’t all that far out of reach at the time. yet, here she is causing a yellow flag as she starts to notice the smoke surrounding her. 
"like i said. don't think about anything else."
she sighs to herself as a marshal appears above her halo, greeting her with a soft smile. she nods, letting herself get helped out of her car.
but only one thought eats away at her: she crashed on her third race. what's everyone going to say about her now?
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“let me talk,” sebastian sighs, hands up in the air as he tries to calm the girl sitting on the examination bed. he’s barely able to get a word in.
she’s slouched against the wall, purple balaclava in her hands as she traces the thread that holds it together at the hem. the minute he walked in, she looked up immediately with tears in her eyes and a string of apologies.
it hasn’t stopped since he poked his head through the door, cutting him off before he could even ask if she’s okay. 
“do you not see the problem?” she shrieks, eyebrows furrowing at sebastian. “i just crashed out! imagine what the media has to say about my performance today? they’re just going to use this as a reason to justify that i shouldn’t be on the track!”
sebastian drops his hands to his side, deciding that he’d just let her get it all off her chest. it might make her feel better. 
though, it doesn’t make him feel good that she’s continually talking down on herself. he vouched for her for weeks for a reason, and it’s because he believes in her. more than she does in herself, it seems. 
“i didn’t work my ass off my whole life just to be undermined because i’m a woman!” she tosses the balaclava aside, now picking at the loose skin by her fingernails. “i didn’t get this far for everyone to count me out because of one crash! can you fucking believe that shit? it’s a fucking rookie mistake, seb! i’ve been racing for years!”
she drops her hands by her side and groans again, rolling her eyes. “i’ve earned my rightful spot to be where i am! they are not going to care about that!”
sebastian shrugs slightly, overlooked by the infuriated woman across him. he can barely get a breath in before she continues, shutting his mouth immediately as she continues her rampage. 
“imagine the headlines tomorrow! a driver is as good as their last race — i know that! don’t try to sugarcoat it. you know i’m right!” she rambles on, eyes darting all over the room. she’s pushed herself off the wall slightly, clearly flustered over the course of events. 
she avoids sebastian’s eyes, the fear of fully breaking down in front of him prominent. crying over a crash seemed like such a silly thing to do, but there’s no denying how demanding the sport truly is. 
in her short three races in the season and people’s neverending criticism of her abilities, it makes her lie awake at night rethinking her position on the grid. 
following her crash, sebastian hadn’t expected for her to ramble on for this long. he initially thought that the crash would have sent her into a shocking silence, so while her anger is warranted, it was definitely not on his list of things to be ready for. 
“imagine what they have to say about me!” she throws her hands in the air, scratching her head gently. “imagine what they’ll say about you! it’s not going to be good, trust me! i’m a woman in a fucking racing car in a male-dominated sport!”
“hey!” sebastian’s voice bounces in the room, making her lift her head with her eyes narrowed into a glare. 
the sudden movement reminds her of her restrictions, hands coming up to nurse the back of her neck. she feels a sharp pain shoot through her head all the way down to her shoulders. “what?” she hisses, quickly looking down to hide the pain. 
“you literally just crashed head-first into a wall at 250 kilometres per hour! you’re lucky all you got was a concussion and whiplash! it could’ve been worse!”
“if i was lucky, i’d have been able to recover and get on the podium as we discussed! i was already 5th!”
“and you didn’t! that’s okay! you learn from things like these!”
“no, it’s not! i’m already hated as it is!”
“it’s part of the sport! fernando alonso has crashed, lewis has, and so have max and charles! every other big name in formula 1 has had their fair share! you’ll be okay!”
she finally meets sebastian’s eyes, slouching even more as she audibly sighs. he watches her body deflate, leaning back dejectedly. “it’s still different.”
she’s still in her fireproofs. her race suit had to be taken off during her short time with the doctor, hanging on the back of the plastic chair in the small medical room. her helmet sits next to her, underneath the balaclava she’d thrown on top of it. 
her hair is in a loose ponytail with stray hairs poking out and resting on her face. the adrenaline has yet to leave her body, chest heaving as if it’d just been over and beads of sweat still scattered all over her.
“i know it’s different. but everyone else who says whatever isn’t the person behind the wheel, you have to remember that,” he says in a soothing tone, finally coming up to stand next to her. he sighs, putting a hand on top of her head. “and i know it sucks.”
she shakes her head. “no, you don’t. we’re different; our problems are different.”
“the way they used to hate me, and things they say about you are different, yes,” sebastian nods in a low voice, his thumb now tracing circles on her head. “but you still can prove them wrong. you just started driving in formula 1 — you’ll have way more chances to shut them all up.”
“i could’ve already. if i just controlled the car a little better.”
“it’s okay.” he slides himself onto the examination bed, sitting next to her. he intertwines his fingers and rests his hands on his thigh. “everybody crashes at one point in their career.
“let the media say what they want, but not all that criticise you have been in a race before. nobody on that grid thinks you’re lesser than you are just because of what happened today.”
“you don’t know that.”
sebastian just shakes his head, refusing to elaborate any further. he leans back into the wall as well. “oscar is on the way with some snacks for you.”
crashing out during a race is never easy. years before he decided to retire, tapping and crashing out of a race has always been demoralising. it always feels like the first time when he does.
“i don’t need snacks. i need to go back to 4 hours ago when i was still on track for a podium finish in the first half of my rookie season.”
“with your talent, i can assure you that this will not be your only opportunity in formula 1. i will make sure of it, of course. wherever i go, you go.”
the door creaks open, cutting her off before she can throw an answer back as sebastian. “i’ve got your favourite snacks. i also stole a couple of twix bars from your backpack, i hope you don’t mind.”
“well, why’d you take them and still tell me about it knowing i wouldn’t even have given it to you in the first place?” she reaches for the nearest object next to her, yanking it towards oscar by the door. 
“because it was calling my name,” he shrugs, pushing the door fully open to reveal who he’s strung along to the medical centre. 
“i took a packet of haribo,” logan shrugs as he steps in. he flinches when she clenches her fist, scrambling to pull something out of his paper bag. “but i got you a can of sprite to make up for it! don’t be mad!”
her gaze softens when she notices lewis hamilton standing behind her friends, a paper bag hanging on his fingers as he grins at her. 
“how are you, sweetie?” his voice is empathetic and low, giving her a look that she’d seen from everyone she’s passed on her way here. 
she sees lewis and sebastian exchange glances, almost making her roll her eyes again. 
she doesn’t talk to lewis that often, but he has addressed her before when she would trail behind sebastian on the track. she would often greet him softly as she hid behind her mentor, or simply excuse herself when she sees either oscar or logan passing by. 
he’s a role model and the last thing she ever wanted to do was be too overbearing. to see him come to her aid is only a dream come true. 
“i hope you don’t beat yourself up because of that. you drove a brilliant race today,” he smiles. “everybody crashes out. don’t even care what others have to say about you. you did well.”
lewis understands being cast out as a minority. he will never understand the struggles and pressure put on her, but he can at least relate to a certain extent. “don’t even sweat it. you’re now one of the world’s greatest in a fast race car. you’d smoke anybody who would dare challenge you.”
oscar tilts his head. “why would someone random just challenge her out on the street?”
“oscar, shut up,” logan shoves the australian slightly, landing a warning smack on his shoulder after. “let her have her moment.”
lewis laughs but does wave oscar off as he returns his attention to her. “what they say will string, but trust me, this is not the end of the world. i know it feels like it.”
she nods to herself. “okay, hand me the snacks so i can eat away all my pain. i deserve it.”
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taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock
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python333 · 8 months
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im in love with your content omg😭 your writing style is just chefs kiss
can i req a reader with the tf141 being on a mission and hearing an enemy say something in british slang and they just go "what did they just say.." in comms? like a reader who doesnt know anything about slang like not even that bars in the uk r called pubs (if im not wrong) and just nods whenever a private talks in slang, and their brain is just trying to figure out what they just said?
its just a really silly plot with a silly reader :3
pardon? — python333
— — — —
synopsis just as the req says, you know nothing about british slang and on a mission the enemy speaks british and you dont know what theyre saying :3
relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & reader.
characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.
word count 2.6k
warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].
note HI YES I LOVE THIS REQ!! i take every opportunity i can to make fun of british people so this is right up my alley!! tysm for the compliments hjfhdjskf recently ive been getting more praise on my works and it makes me so happy i love yall. again, sorry if this sounds a little rushed or if any parts are incoherent, i wrote this at 12/1am and im both more productive and write more nonsense at this time + this one is wayyyy shorter than ones i usually do because i didnt know what else to write for it so i apologize for that as well! this is pure fluff and humor (i like to think im funny) so enjoy!!
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“—eah, and now we have to camp out here ‘cause he can’t be arsed to do it ‘imself, so I feel like we should have a chat with the others, see if they’re willing to leg it out of here with us,” An enemy soldier suggests to you, his British accent thick enough that you think it might be cockney.
You cross your arms to hide your shaking hands and nod in agreement, as if you understood anything he said, and put on the same shitty British accent you’d been using for the past five minutes you’d been talking to this guy.
“Yeah, yeah, totally,” You agree, clearing your throat before asking, “You know where the others are stationed?”
“You don’t?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you suspiciously.
“Mate, all the orders I was given went in one ear and out the other,” You sigh, holding back a wince at your desperate attempt to sound more natural using British slang, “I just know I’ve got to stand out here and shoot the enemy.”
The enemy eyes you suspiciously and he takes a moment to try and read your face before he says, “I don’t think I’ve seen you before, actually. Which would be weird, if we’re in the same platoon, don’t you—” 
You sigh and quickly pull out the small switchblade you had hanging on your belt, stabbing the enemy in the neck before he can say anything else and grabbing him before he can drop to the ground, putting a hand behind his back as you half lead half drag him into a dark alleyway beside the building he was stationed outside of. 
You quickly set him down into a sitting position and take your knife out of his throat, tucking the blade back into the handle before adjusting it to latch onto your belt once again, letting out a frustrated huff as you stare at the now dead man in front of you. 
“[c/n], how copy?” Price’s voice crackles through on your ear piece. 
You push in the PTT button and lower your voice, “Copy, I fucked up a little bit. One of the guys was onto me.”
“You were there for five bloody minutes,” Gaz’s voice rings through, his tone both disbelieving and amused, “How’d he already catch onto you?” 
“The British are smarter than I thought,” You breathe out, standing up and looking around for a ladder to climb to get to higher ground before anyone spots you. You go farther into the alley and find an old, rusty ladder with rungs that look like they’d snap if someone sneezed on them too hard—perfect for climbing up.
You wrinkle your nose as your hand makes contact with one of the rungs but don’t say anything otherwise, instead wordlessly hauling yourself up onto the ladder. 
“Reminder that there’s three British people with you, currently,” Ghost’s deadpan tone crackles, his breathing heavy, as you can tell he’s whispering into his mic, “All of which are very smart.”
“I caught you reading the instructions on a box of tea bags the other day, don’t fuckin’ talk right now,” You grumble, slowly climbing up the ladder, hating the creaking noises it makes as you do. It sounds like it’s going to snap at any minute, and you try to go up as fast as you can, but one wrong move and you’ll easily slip, some of the rust that flakes off of the ladder enough to make you slip up. 
“They were circles,” Ghost says, exasperated, “I didn’t know if that made a difference.” 
“I thought British people were supposed to know everything about tea,” You roll your eyes, putting your hand on the next rusty rung up on the ladder. 
“Yeah, L.t,” Soap agrees with you teasingly, the wind hitting his mic, making it obvious that he’s running, “Thought ye Brits were s’possed to ken everything ‘bout tea.” 
You laugh quietly to yourself as you finally make it to the top of the building, the top just high enough for you to look at the few soldiers below and hear a majority of their conversations without them noticing you.
You get to the edge of the rooftop and pull the sniper rifle you’d been carrying around off of your back, glad to finally be back in your element rather than trying to get in undercover, and set it up. 
You pull the stand out and set it on the edge of the roof, and look through the scope of the rifle, lining it up so that it’s aiming directly at one of the soldier’s heads, specifically the one that was standing directly out of the entrance you originally were meant to try and get into—but doing this didn’t change much.
Regardless of if you got in or not, he would’ve died, and the others would’ve gotten in too. You getting in first was just meant to make it more efficient.
You press down on the PTT button on your earpiece as you look through the scope of your sniper rifle, keeping the aim on the soldier in front of the entrance, “The guy in front of the entrance is just standing still, so whenever you need me to, I can shoot ‘im down.” 
“I don’t think we need to get in just yet,” Price hums, “But maybe in a minute.” “M’kay,” You hum, taking your eye away from the scope, instead just looking over at the enemy soldiers. You lay on your stomach, leaning your head down a bit to try and listen in on the enemy’s conversations easier, trying your best not to make yourself too obvious.
The conversations were pretty boring and almost the same for every soldier you’d eavesdropped on, for the most part. Enemy soldiers joking around, talking about what they’ll do once they’re on leave—like they would be able to do that after you completed your assignment—and just some general team camaraderie.
The lackluster subjects of their conversations weren’t bad at all, no, in fact, you could care less what they talk about. 
It was their stupid accents you hated. 
Are you surrounded by British people everyday? Yes. Does that stop you from hating on the British everyday? No. Okay, maybe the accents aren’t stupid, but God, they had the thickest cockney accents you’d heard in your entire life, and it was making your eavesdropping so much harder, and had almost been the reason you were given away earlier.
They used slang words that you’re certain you’ve never heard before in your life, and used analogies that didn’t even make sense—you heard one of them use the words, verbatim, ‘Don’t get stroppy’. Stroppy? Stroppy? 
You narrow your eyes down at the soldiers below you, listening to a conversation they’d just started up. 
“—eah, ‘cause he can’t be arsed to do anything about it, so now we have to camp out here and wait for somethin’ to happen,” One of the soldiers scoffs, “I’m telling you, man, if I see that skull-masked bloke runnin’ ‘round out here, I’m legging it from ‘im immediately.” 
You draw your eyebrows together in confusion, but you stay silent for now. Isn’t that exactly what the other soldier said? Are they like a hive mind or something?
“You’re legging it?” The other soldier asked, sounding almost incredulous, “What happened to you chattin’ to some of the others about your loyalty and what not?” “All that’s irrelevant when the fuckin’ grim reaper rolls around and starts murkin’ people like he’s been doing for the entirety we’ve been here, mate,” The first soldier laughs, “You think I wanna be here when he does that?” 
“Don’t act like a prat about it, man—fuckin’ talking’ like you can outrun him.” “A prat? I’m not—” You tune out the rest of their argument and instead try and figure out what they were saying.
A prat? Legging it? Can’t be arsed? What the fuck? You push the PTT button on your earpiece and as quietly as you can, you ask, “I need some help. Serious help. Life or death situation.” Immediately, Price’s voice rings through, “What? What is it? What happened?” “The soldiers are British and I can’t tell what they’re saying,” You answer, ignoring Price’s relieved sigh on his end, “I need help.” “Jesus, fuck, don’t scare me like that,” Price sighs, taking a few breaths before continuing, “Alright, what do you need help with?” 
“Figuring out what they’re saying.” This time, you hear Gaz’s voice crackle through, “Well, you’ve got three British people here—tell us what he’s saying.” 
“One of the guys was talking about ‘legging it’ if he saw Ghost heading towards him, and talked about Ghost ‘murking’ people, and then the other guy he was talking to told him he was being a ‘prat’ about it and he got all offended,” You eloquently say into the earpiece, watching as the argument gets a little more heated. You can hear an amused huff from Ghost on his end and a scoff from Soap in return. 
“They’re just saying they’re gonna run away if they see Ghost because he’s been killing a lot of their soldiers, and the other guy said he was being a prat, which I guess is like…” Gaz pauses to think of how to explain the slang term before settling on, “Someone who’s kind of full of themselves, I guess. Or ignorant. Either or.” 
“They couldn’t just say that?” You muse quietly, still staring down at the enemy soldiers. 
“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that,” Price’s voice cuts through, “Go ahead and shoot the guy down. I’m ready to head in.”
“Got it,” You hum, quickly putting your eye back up to your scope and readjusting it a bit before quietly warning, “Shooting him now.” 
You pull the trigger and the enemy goes down immediately, and through your scope you can see the small twitching of his body as the other soldier starts to freak out.
You quickly aim the gun at his still-alive friend and shoot him down as well, silently congratulating yourself on your good aim and continuing to look through the scope, watching as Price runs in with Gaz and a few other soldiers. 
They struggle with the door for a moment and you sigh before pressing in the PTT button on your earpiece and quietly saying, “Price, Gaz, move away from the door for a sec.”
Wordlessly, they do as they’re told, and you take the opportunity to line up the gun’s aim with the complex electronic panel on the outside of the door and pull the trigger, shooting the most crucial part of the panel, causing it’s functions to disrupt and as a result, the doors open. 
“Thanks for that,” Gaz breathes out as Price kicks open the door, his voice cut off a bit at the end as he takes his hand off the PTT button too quickly in order to follow after Price. 
“Uh huh. Of course,” You say offhandedly, taking your eye away from the scope of your sniper rifle and listening to the loud sirens go off in the facility the others break into, and push yourself up so that you can sit up straight to properly watch it. You grunt as you sit up, stretching your arms out for a moment before letting them fall into your lap. 
“Are they in?” Soap asks, curious, his voice a little strained and breathy. There’s no loud gusts of wind coming through his mic anymore, and you look around for a moment, before your eyes catch on to him climbing up a ladder to get to the rooftop adjacent to yours.
Your lips twitch into a smile at the sight of him completely clueless to your presence and you press your PTT button to talk. 
“Yeah, they’re in,” You say, watching as he finally gets to the rooftop, “Didn’t you hear the sirens?” 
You can see Soap’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion for a moment, and he looks around for a moment before finally seeing you on the rooftop directly next to his, and he looks surprised for a moment before a grin splits across his face. You see him press the PTT button on his mic as well. 
“I did, yeah, just wanted tae be sure,” He says into his mic, looking right at you as he does, “It’s a surprise seeing you here.” 
“Imagine how I feel,” You muse, almost to yourself, before looking away from Soap and speaking up, “Ghost, you don’t wanna join us on the rooftops?” 
“Absolutely not,” He replies almost immediately, making you huff out a small laugh and Soap’s grin grow, “I’m perfectly fine on the ground.” 
“Where are you?” You ask, scanning the area around you for Ghost, “I feel like I haven’t seen you this whole time.” 
“I’m just behind the facility,” Ghost hums, voice still a low whisper, “I’m gonna be heading in once Gaz and Price make it to the second floor to clean up the first, in case there’s anyone left.” 
“You’ve been behind the facility this whole time?” Soap’s voice cuts through, surprised by the fact. 
“Mhm,” Ghost hums. 
“It’s a bit boring back there, innit?” Gaz’s voice crackles through, his voice a little breathy, “You can sweep the first floor, by the way. Should be nobody left, though. Pretty sure all the soldiers were just faffing around, not doing much.” 
“Fucking faffing around?” You ask incredulously to yourself, though apparently your voice is loud enough to make Soap chuckle. 
As if he can read your mind, Price’s voice comes through, “Faffing around is just doing nothing or doing nothing particularly productive, [c/n].” 
You sigh and push your PTT button this time, talking into your mic, “You couldn’t just say that, Gaz? You had to say something silly like faffing around?” 
“It’s not silly,” Gaz says, his frown audible, “They were faffing around.” 
“Jesus, fuck,” You breathe out, laughing lightly, “It’s totally silly.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Yeah it is.”
“No it’s—” 
“I just want one day where you two don’t start up stupid arguments like this,” Price’s tired sigh comes through, “Just one day, I beg of you both.” 
“Aw, Captain, we were just faffing around,” You whine playfully, the misuse of the slang making Soap cover his mouth with his hand to muffle his laughter and you hear Ghost groan into his mic. 
“That is absolutely not how you use that,” Gaz says, though you can hear some laughter in his voice—from your very non-British accent saying British phrases, you presume, a small grin gracing your lips at the thought. 
“It sounded natural to me,” You lie straight through your teeth, shrugging even though only Soap can see you. 
“You’re insufferable,” Gaz groans, making you laugh quietly, “Never use British slang again, please.” 
“What if I get a British accent? Will that fix it?”
“Nothing can fix what you’ve said today, [c/n].”
“Well that’s dramatic,” You scoff, “I’ll learn British just for you guys.” 
“Holy shit, please stop talking,” Price’s exasperated voice interrupts the both of you, “You’re both insufferable. Drop it.” 
“… I don’t think I will,” You say defiantly, making all three British people in the same voice channel as you groan in unison, the sound sounding like some sort of middle school choir trying to sing in harmony, “I’ll use Duolingo or something to learn it.” 
“British isn’t a language you learn, you muppet,” Price grumbles, making you snort. 
“Muppet?” 
“It’s someone who’s dumb and clueless and can’t take a hint, like you,” Ghost defines, “And Soap, most of the time.” 
“Daen’t go draggin’ mae into this,” Soap’s voice quickly cuts through, “I haven’t said onything.” 
“Uh, yes you absolutely did, earlier, remember?” Gaz argues, ignoring Price’s protests for him to stop arguing, “About Ghost being stupid with the tea thing?” 
“Oh, I’ll have you all know—” 
“Ghost, don’t start—” 
You listen as the once casual, teasing conversation turns into an argument and chuckle quietly to yourself, knowing that they’d be arguing about this until you all finished your assignment.
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1K notes · View notes
moonstruckme · 3 months
Note
If it interests you, could you maybe do poly!marauders smut surrounding how they would react when reader gives one of the boys a blowjob? If this isn’t comfy for you I apologize immensely. I double checked your rules so hopefully I didn’t overstep or anything. Love your work! Also my middle name is Mae:)))
Honestly babe when I read this I didn’t know if I was comfy with it either (not because of you, just because I didn’t know if I’d be able to write it) but I decided to give it a go and somehow it turned into over 2k words? So thanks!
cw: smut mdni, oral (m receiving), praise, this might be horrible? I can't decide if I hate it
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 2.1k words
Sirius’ kisses have turned sloppy, one of his hands wrapped loosely around your neck while the other wiggles its fingers below the waistband of your jeans, taking greedy handfuls of hip. His hard length presses into your thigh through his pants. You tilt your head, slanting your mouth against his so you can kiss him more deeply, and a low groan rumbles through him. 
He plants a chaste kiss on your lips before starting to mark a path downwards. 
You know where this is going, and you like where this is going, but still a breathless “wait” slips past your lips. 
Sirius pauses, his face hovering over your middle. Next to you on the bed, your boyfriends continue making out, but you can see you’ve caught James’ attention. His eyes open to slits, peeking from beneath his lashes to check on you. 
“What’s up?” Sirius asks, rubbing your hip. “Don’t feel like it?” 
“No, I just…” you rub your lips together nervously, and you see his eyes drop to the motion. Already large pupils growing larger. “I wanted to know if I can ask you something.” 
Sirius’ eyes skim over you, a slow perusal that’s probably meant to deduce the cause of your anxiety but only serves to worsen it. “Sure you can,” he says, tone somewhat gentler than usual. “What is it, sweetness?” 
“Could you maybe,” you ask hesitantly, wishing you could lean away from him, as if some distance between you would make this any less embarrassing, “teach me to give you a blowjob?” 
Sirius’ lips part in surprise. This time it’s Remus who you catch looking over, a second before James breaks their kiss, sitting up over Remus’ torso. 
“You wanna learn?” James asks, lips bitten red and swollen. 
You glance between him and Sirius, not quite sure who to look at. “Yeah?” you say, hating the way your voice crawls up into a question. 
Sirius’ eyebrows twitch together. “You know you don’t have to,” he says, “right?” 
“I know.” You give him a little smile. “I’m just curious, I guess.” 
“Okay,” he says. His thumb sweeps over your hip like he knows you need the reassurance. “Yeah, we can show you, gorgeous. Wanna do it sitting down?” 
You take a breath, nodding before crawling out from under him and kneeling on the floor by the bed. Sirius follows you, sitting on the edge of the mattress and spreading his legs wide. Your brain buzzes in response to the erection you can see bulging through his pants. 
You glance towards the other boys. “Are you guys just going to…watch?” 
They’ve both been staring at you, but now James grins sheepishly. “If you don’t mind.” 
“We can help, if you’re alright with that,” Remus offers. “Give you tips.” 
You can feel your face growing warm at the prospect of them being witness to your bumbling first attempt, but you don’t hate the idea of them coaching you through it. 
“M’kay,” you say. “Um, what do I do?” 
“Try taking it out, sweetheart.” There’s a bit of laughter in Remus’ voice, but his hand is gentle as he reaches over the edge of the bed, brushing your hair behind your ear. 
Your eyes flit up to Sirius’ face. He gives you a smile, and you undo his pants, pulling down the waistband of his underwear so that his length springs free. For a few moments you just look at it, wetting your lips before looking to the boys for direction. 
“Here.” James gets down on the floor beside you and takes your hand in his, guiding it to Sirius’ shaft. “You’re probably gonna want to start by holding it like this, okay?” He wraps your fingers around the base. “Good. Now be careful to cover your teeth, and just try putting it in your mouth.” 
Just? You glance up at Sirius again, and a bit of pride swells in you at the undisguised lust in his expression.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” you tell him softly. 
“Me neither,” he jokes, reaching down to thumb affectionately at your cheek. “You won’t hurt me, baby. And you can stop anytime you want, you know that. If you don’t like it, just stop.” 
You bob your head, wrap your lips around your teeth, and take him into your mouth before you can think too hard about it. His cock feels odd and weighty on your tongue. You lean forward a bit, seeing how far you can go. 
“Breathe through your nose,” Remus instructs. “Try sucking on it, whenever you’re ready.” 
You let your jaw relax, sucking experimentally, like you might on a popsicle. Sirius moans. 
“Just like that,” he says, voice taking on a thick quality. “Fuck, good job, baby.” 
Warmth unfurls in your gut at the praise. You suckle a bit longer, getting used to the feel of him in your mouth before you begin moving slowly forward and backward. After a few tries, your lips are making contact with the curled O of your thumb and forefinger each time. Sirius’ cock twitches in your mouth. 
“You’ve got it, angel.” James’ big hand roves the curves of your side, his touch steadying your nerves and stirring that heat in your core. “Don’t rush yourself, but if you wanna take him deeper you can take your hand off.” 
You do it without little hesitation, high on praise and the rush of what you’ve already accomplished, and ease more of Sirius’ shaft into your mouth. He puts a hand in your hair to help you along, but then all of a sudden it’s too deep, too big, too much. You gag, choking. 
Sirius’ hand disappears instantly, but you’re not so ready to give up. Your throat spasms around the intrusion, vision blurring as you try to breathe through your nose. 
“Easy,” Remus murmurs.
You finally can’t stand it anymore, pulling away and drawing in a gasping breath. 
“Shit,” Sirius says, and you lift your teary eyes to his embarrassedly while James rubs your back. “You alright?” 
“Yeah,” you manage, swallowing. “Sorry.” 
His eyes go soft. “Don’t be sorry, you did great. Do you wanna stop now?” 
You shake your head. “I think I just need a second.” 
He nods, and there’s a few seconds of quiet, James' hand coasting up and down your spine. “Do you think a demonstration would help?’ he asks. 
You swipe under your lashes, looking over at him curiously. “Um, maybe? I’m not sure.” 
He exchanges a quick look with Remus before grinning, shuffling closer to where he sits at the edge of the bed and taking off his glasses. “Here. Sirius, talk her through what I’m doing, yeah?” 
Sirius seems about as transfixed by what’s about to happen as you are, but he nods. James does as you had, taking Remus’ cock out of his pants, and there’s no need to get it warmed up after the show you’ve been giving them. He feeds it right into his mouth. Remus groans as James takes his entire length expertly, fisting a hand in the other boy’s curly hair. 
“Right. Um, see how he’s breathing deep through his nose?” Sirius clears his throat, voice noticeably rough as he watches James’ lips move over Remus’ shaft. “He’s keeping his throat relaxed, not moving back and forth too much.” 
You watch as James’ mouth grows wet with spit and slick, his eyes watering a bit as he fights his gag reflex. His throat bobs, and Remus swears, his grip tightening on James’ hair. 
“And when he swallows,” Sirius manages, “his throat tightens, which is…uh, nice.” 
Remus lets out a breathy, half-delirious laugh at Sirius’ commentary. His cheeks are flushed red from pleasure and the attention, and it’s not long before curses start to spew from his mouth and he goes rigid, cuming down James’ throat. James swallows, grinning up at him. Lips and eyes shiny.
You and Sirius watch them for a few seconds longer, entranced by the sight of your boyfriends. 
“Okay.” You clear your throat. “Um, thanks.” 
“Yeah, thanks,” Remus says weakly, and you have to swallow a laugh. 
You turn to Sirius. “I think I’m ready to try.” 
He gestures as if to say Go right ahead, and you take his shaft in your hand, guiding it back into your mouth. Once again, it takes time to adjust to the feeling, but this time when his head hits the back of your throat you’re ready for it. You breathe steadily through your mouth, focussing on staying relaxed as you suck gently. 
“There you go, angel,” James praises, putting his glasses back on to watch you. “You’re taking him so well.” 
“Fucking yeah she is,” Sirius agrees, voice growing reedy as he starts to pant. You take one of his legs to steady yourself, hand wrapping around a tattoo on his thigh. “Look at me, baby.” 
You lift your watery eyes to his, finding the stormcloud gray nearly eclipsed by dark pupil. The raw want in them makes your cunt throb. Sirius must find your face nearly as arousing, because he mutters another quiet, Fuck.
You’re distantly conscious of Remus shuffling back to the edge of the bed, and then he’s laying his head on his arms, gazing down at you. “Look at you, such a quick learner,” he hums. “You’re doing such a good job, sweetheart. Making him feel so good.” 
“Look at her eyes,” James says, just loud enough so you can hear. You know they’re aware of what their words are doing to you, of the wetness pooling in your underwear. “She looks so pretty like this, doesn’t she?” 
“She does,” Remus agrees. “Our pretty girl.” 
You move a bit more surely over Sirius’ length, constricting your throat tentatively. Sirius moans loudly, his hand twitching toward you before he stops it. You take it in yours, setting it on the back of your head so he can guide you the way he wants. 
“Fuck, that’s my girl,” he pants, tangling his hand in your hair. “So good f’me.” 
You make a small, pleasurable sound, and another moan slips from between his lips, his hand urging you closer. You breathe through it when his cock sponges against the back of your throat, starting to enjoy the odd sensation of your mouth and throat being so deliciously full—and, if you’re being honest with yourself, the feeling of knowing you’re doing well. And if Sirius’ increasingly loud curses and the other boys’ murmured praise are anything to go by, you’re doing rather well. 
“God, I wish you could see how you look right now,” James says, voice smooth as velvet as he drops a kiss on your shoulder. “You’re so lovely.” 
“Fucking hot, s’what she is,” Sirius insists, brows coming together so urgently you wonder for a second if he’s in pain. “Fuck. Shit, where can I cum?” 
You don’t take your mouth off his cock, doing your best to communicate with your eyes. Sirius seems to get the message, his grip on your hair tightening, pulling at your scalp as his thigh tenses under your hand. You swallow hurriedly, and the sounds that leave him will echo in your dreams for the rest of the week, loud, pleady moans interspersed with mangled curses. Your mouth fills with warm wetness, and you ease him out of your throat before swallowing again. 
“There we are.” James tugs you gently away when he realizes neither you or Sirius are moving, pulling you half into his lap. “You did it, sweetheart, great job.” 
He strokes his thumb under your eyes for you, wiping away the wetness there as Remus watches you move your tongue around in your mouth funnily. 
“You alright?” he asks you.
You nod. “Tastes different than I thought it would,” you say. 
James laughs, the sound bright and clear. He plants a smacking kiss on your cheek. 
“Not bad, I hope,” Sirius says, voice still a bit stringy. He leans back on his elbows, watching you from the bed. 
You feel color rise to your cheeks. “No. Not bad.” 
His lips quirk up, eyes steady on yours. “That was fucking killer,” he tells you, “especially for your first time. Thanks for that, gorgeous.” 
You grin bashfully, dropping your eyes. James clears his throat loudly. 
“Right, right, and thank you for the demonstration,” Sirius adds. “Very instructive.” 
James beams, but Sirius only pats the bed next to him. 
“Why don’t you hop up here so I can give you a real thanks?” 
Impossibly, James’ smile widens. He’s quick to obey, Sirius moving to take his place on the floor. Your lips part, and you hear Remus chuckle. You turn to find his amber eyes watching you. They linger on your lips, still glossy and swollen. 
“Y’want me to help you out too, sweetheart?” He juts his chin toward the bed, a silent request for you to lie down. “Seems only fair, doesn’t it.” 
885 notes · View notes
manicpixiefelix · 4 months
Text
head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}
Part 5.
Summary: Reader, Oliver, and the mortifying ordeal of being known. Plus clubbing, costume parties, and Oliver being a fucking tease.
{ masterpost }
Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.
Warnings: drinking/intoxication/drug use
A/N: 3148 words. now we're cooking with gas, folks! i might be too sleepy for a real author's note, but just know, as always, its unedited and i love you. have fun, please let me know what you think!
TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)
----
"Can I be bold for a minute?" On the roof of one of the dorm buildings, you and Oliver are waiting for Felix. It's twilight, the sky painted lavender by the setting sun and encroaching night, and everything feels a little dreamy.
"If anyone would appreciate boldness, Ollie, it's me," you tell him blithely around the cigarette you're trying to light. Still, he's quiet for this one moment, watching the way you cup your hand around the little flame to shield it from the wind.
"How did you and Farleigh ever get so close, considering how he treats you?"
You're pretty sure you know why he's asking you, considering what few interactions he'd witnessed between yourself and Farleigh, but it's still unexpected coming from him. For a moment, your gaze flicks to him, eyes narrowed, not quite sure what to make of the interaction. When your gaze meets his, he's looking at you with that intent, inquisitive look he got in moments like these, moments he seemed to fish for information without seeming like that was what he was doing. The silence and look that you level at him seem to throw him off guard, and immediately he drops his gaze to his feet, swinging off the edge of the building.
"That is bold," you finally settle on, watching Oliver fidget. His ankles cross, his shoulders slump; again he makes himself as small as possible. You deliberately make your tone lighter when you continue, "what's got you worried 'bout me an Farleigh?"
"I mean, all I'm saying is that he was being nasty to you, but now you're both kind of acting like he wasn't."
It's true; since his apology that Sunday morning Farleigh had been keeping his word about not being too bitter about Oliver to or even around you and Felix. You, in turn, made a special effort to spend time with him, pay him attention, made him feel like your priority on occasion. Both you and Farleigh were well aware of what you were doing, but he always enjoyed your company and attention, so it wasn't like he was going to complain.
"Farleigh and I understand each other."
"He slept with your girlfriend."
"India's not my girlfriend."
"He- he keeps calling you a dog."
That hit a nerve. You hadn't realised he was paying attention to that back at the pub. You swallow hard and look out at the horizon.
"And?" Raising the cigarette to your lips again, you don't look at him as you take a very long drag on it, "there are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy," you breathe out with the smoke.
"Doesn't seem like the way friends should talk about each other is all," Oliver says quietly, notes of apology in his voice; you can see him looking at you again out of the corner of your eye.
"Best friend, actually," you finally sigh, letting the tension drop from your shoulders and the moment. As you look at him over your shoulder, you give a faint smile in the face of his confusion, "we've known each other long enough that we can say pretty much anything we want to each other. Only problem is that Farleigh knows that pushing my buttons also pushes Fi's buttons, which is why he does it so often. He's a shit-stirrer, but you haven't known us long enough to know he doesn't really mean it," you tell him with surprising fondness in your voice.
"I'm sorry for prying," Oliver says earnestly, and you smile wider.
"I'm sorry for being so defensive; I realise how it must look from the outside."
Before anything else can be said, the door to the roof bursts open, and Felix greets you both with a hundred-watt smile and a packet of fish and chips in his hands. You descend on him like a seagull, swapping your cigarette for the hot food, tearing into the paper wrapping and settling by the wall at the edge of the roof near Oliver once more.
There's a beat where Felix is watching you and Oliver, his smile soft and fond and endeared, but there's something in his eyes that's been there since that lunched they'd shared at the pub -
"I shouldn't say -" there's a lot of things Felix shouldn't do that he does anyways. Considering his wealth, he could get away with a lack of self control, "I just genuinely didn't know, I mean I might have guessed- did you know?"
"Know what, Fi?" You're still in his bed, bleary-eyed and desperately wanting to go back to sleep when he'd come back from the pub buzzing instead of tired, as he'd predicted.
He'd spent the better part of the afternoon with his head on your chest, explaining the almost Dickensian tragedy that was Oliver's life. Sure you were listening, but you didn't have much to contribute other than faint noises of interest while your fingers carded through his hair.
There's something about the way Felix recounts all this information to you, the way he finds it salacious and heart-breaking all in one. You can hear in his voice that he'd captivated, that he's endeared by the struggle that has followed Oliver throughout his life. As much as you loved him, you'd watched time and again the way he'd fall for tragic tales and the people who'd recount them; Felix had a saviour complex, and it was the only thing the two of you had ever fought about.
Last year it had been Eddie, the worst of the bunch so far. Like Oliver but in the opposite direction; too much, too loud, too confident to hide his ugly secrets and desperation to be wanted. Eddie had been Icarus, taking for granted the wax wings Felix had given him, the good life, attention, a comrade who almost understood him. But he'd played with fire, played with Venetia too many times, and the wax wings melted. Not that you'd cared; you were the one who spotted them, you were the one that told Farleigh, you were the one who listened to Felix's furious rants every few days for the rest of that Summer. You'd never liked Eddie like Felix liked Eddie.
Oliver was different. You wondered if he was different enough.
Still, as much as you liked Oliver you could see it in Felix's eyes, hear it in his voice; he was already getting himself addicted to the idea of how much better he could make Oliver's life. But Felix had hated it the last time you'd pointed something like that out.
("Then why the fuck would I keep you around? Maybe it's because I don't pick my friends based on whether they're charity cases!")
So you keep your mouth shut. Maybe it's worth it for the way Felix smiles -
"I don't -" Oliver's fidgeting when Felix asks him to tag along to a costume party, "have anything to wear, really," he admits. Immediately Felix is offering to let him borrow something. There's a flicker that looks almost hungry in Oliver's eyes amid the gratefulness, and you wonder if he knows how many people would kill to get into Felix's pants. Still, he's humble, "you don't have to do that."
"I don't have to do anything," Felix shrugs with the easiest smile in the world. Then, in the next sentence, completely glossing over the act of kindness he looks at you, "tell me you aren't still expecting Farleigh to commit to that devil costume with you."
"He told me he'd put effort in this year -"
"He tells you that every year," Felix laughs, and you lean into Oliver's shoulder to explain.
"Me and Farleigh always organise to go to one costume party per year as an angel and a devil -"
"And every year," Felix rolls his eyes with a good-natured exasperation, "Farleigh wears some vulgar t-shirt and two party hats for horns, while Y/N puts weeks of effort in and wins best dressed every time-"
"Not every time," you protested, while Oliver looked faintly impressed, leaning back against you too.
"The only times you haven't won best dressed was if there was no competition to win," Felix points out, before looking past you to Oliver with an amused smile, "so I can't promise you a Y/N-level of costume, but it'll be more than two party hats."
"If you wanna give me two party hats, I'll wear 'em," Oliver says, hands coming up as if to placate the both of you. Instead, you grin wider, throwing an arm around his shoulders.
"We'll make you all pretty, Ollie, don't worry."
Unsurprisingly, on the night of the party, Farleigh showed up to 'get ready' at your dorm, which meant him lazing on your bed, drinking and sharing his coke with you while you put arguably too much effort into your makeup. He, of course, is wearing two party hats, and t-shirt that simply says 'EASY', and though you pretend to be annoyed for all of five minutes, he gives a shit eating grin as you chew him out.
"Fool you once, shame on me, sure; fool you six times, that's on you, Y/N."
You flipped him off with a grin.
"There they are!" India cheers from the sofas where your other friends are gathered when you arrive to the party. Farleigh, on your arm, makes a show of his entrance, "not you, Farleigh, obviously." India rolls her eyes, but thankfully Farleigh wasn't too put out. Instead, he swans towards the group to claim a seat.
"Give us a spin, angel," Annabel insists with a coy smile, and you oblige her to the whistles and cheers of the rest of your friends.
"You outdo yourself," Felix told you fondly as you dropped into a beanbag by the sofa he and Oliver had been occupying.
Felix is looking at you, that kind of dangerous look when he thinks you're especially hot and there's only a thirty percent chance that the two of you will even make it to a dark corner. For just a moment, however, your gaze flicks to Oliver, by his side, and he's watching Felix too, absolutely rapt by the way your best friend looks at you.
"Only in comparison to Farleigh," you shake your head, forcing yourself to be Felix's self restraint, especially so early in the night, "besides, look at you; you've certainly grown into this since I last saw you try it on," and you leaned forward as best you could, looking across the circle of friends to the pretty, redhead in the slinky nurse outfit, "how fucking good does Felix look, Annabel?" You ask pointedly, and you can see Felix give a restrained chuckle before turning his attention to his own not-girlfriend, who seemed glad for the chance to gush about him.
Sitting back, you chance a glance once more at Oliver, and somehow aren't surprised to see him looking back at you. All you do is smirk, well aware of what you were doing.
Felix's clothes are too big on Oliver. The costume, though you're not exactly sure what he's meant to be, kind of wears him instead of the other way around. Felix, of course, looks all kinds of gorgeous as a police officer, while Oliver looked rather like he's wearing his big brother's hand-me-downs. But he's rolls up the sleeves and always looks up at Felix with these blue, doe eyes shining with gratefulness, and no-one else cares enough to comment either way.
You wonder if anyone else has noticed, the way Oliver's personality changes with his focus. It's not in large ways, perhaps others think its like a trick of the light, but the way he looks at others, the way he behaves, it seems to vary from person to person. Tactile, distant, closed off, hesitant, open, honest, warm, skittish, never truly the same with each individual. It's like he watches, figures out what people want to hear, what they want from him, and does his best to give it to them. It's almost painfully familiar.
Oliver gives Felix what he wants in a way you know you never can; Oliver gives him someone to help, someone to feel like he's saving. As long as Felix is happy, you tell yourself, that is enough, and it's easy to like Oliver in your own way. The only problem you've found is that as much as you like Oliver, as intrigued as you are by him, you can't quite get a read on him, what he wants, what your place may be in his life. He's always watching, always searching for something, but you're never sure of what.
So you decide to show him love, show him appreciation the way you know best.
More and more you choose to stay by his side when you're all out, at the pub, at clubs, either of you are not with Felix, or if you're not otherwise occupied by someone requesting your attention, you'll be with Oliver.
Tonight, at the club, a girl from town had been occupying Felix's personal space for the better part of an hour, and by the time he has her against a wall down a dark corridor, Oliver's absconded from the dance floor to get another drink, but hasn't returned. You find him skulking against a wall, half drunk pint in his hand, gazing out through the crowd. When you join him, when you follow his gaze, you can see the silhouette of Felix and the girl, his hand up her shirt through the haze.
"It doesn't bother you?" Oliver asks, loud enough to be heard over the music, but not by anyone else.
"The girls don't bother me," an easy, languid smile spreads across your face, "the girls love me," you amend, smile turning a little smug as you watch Felix and the girl whose name you can't even been be bothered to recall.
"Felix's girls?* Ever-hesitant Oliver, even here and now, sounds carefully demure amongst his curiosity, "do you -?" He makes an awkward gesture, but you read his intentions and laugh dismissively.
"No, no... well," you pause for a moment, "occasionally I have my fun, I suppose, but not like that; girls who are into Felix aren't traditionally into me like that, no," you shake your head with an an missed smile, "but that's why they like me, I'm not a threat, see?"
Even through the haze and flashing lights, you can see Felix's hands on the girl; he's warm and rough and the way he holds always feels so fucking secure -
Looking away sharply, you're surprised by how intently Oliver's watching you. Its genuinely startling, and though he seems to understand this but doesn't look away. For just a moment your breathless, caught up in the night and the jealousy and want for your best friend that you usually have much more control over - your own words echo in your head; I'm not a threat, see? A smug lie, a joke at all those poor girl's expenses since you knew they were never going to last.
Oliver's gaze burns when you finally look him squarely in the eyes; he knows.
"I get the impression people assume a great many things about our Felix," he wets his lips, casting his gaze to darkened hallway, to where you had seen Felix with his mouth on the neck of his girl of the night, but you can't look away from him. Our Felix. "And about you."
"And you?" Your tongue darts out, wetting you lips as you draw Oliver's attention back to you, tone flirty. There's something exhilarating about this man that you can't help but want to tease out.
"Not much to assume," he gives a faint smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, "I'm more the observant type than one whose observed."
"You make the assumptions."
"I make the assumptions," he actually smirks, a bit of that usual gentle hesitation that he approached the world with slipping for just a moment.
"And?"
"And what?"
"Do you have a lot of assumptions about Our Felix?" You tease his earlier wording, but once again his gaze drifts to your best friend, if he still is in the crowd. Them, quieter, almost as if you don't mean to you murmur, "or me?"
"Had."
"Had?"
"Had a lot of assumptions," there's a kind of mischief in his eyes as his tone takes on an air of nonchalance, "'bout him, 'bout you too." As he speaks, you step towards him, hand on his arm, moving steadily higher. He can feel it, you know he can, but all he does is smile wider, refusing to break your gaze.
"Like what, Oliver Quick?"
Leaning in, Oliver takes your face in his hands, bringing you close, sharing breath, lips inches from his.
"Like how they write Odysseys about your kind of loyalty," he mumbled, and you feel like his gaze alone could swallow you whole. There's a aching, yearning that you feel in this moment, when you crush your lips to his. It's quick and desperate, and he pulls back, "like how you show love with every fuckin' bit of that body of yours," this time he pulls you in and it's rougher, it's needy, he bites at your lip and you whimper against his mouth, press yourself against him, "like-" he kisses you quickly, "like- like-" but as you find yourself trailing rough kisses down his jaw, he seems to lose his train of thought.
"Yes?" You prompt with a laugh.
"Like how you're desperate to feel needed."
"Observant," you tell him softly, raising your head, arms still around him. In this moment, his expression is open, watching you, waiting for you to react, "more observant than anyone else."
"You wear it on your sleeve, sweetheart," he says bluntly, but something about being seen, about his unwavering honesty, that sets your heart beating, burning in your chest. Or perhaps it's that he called you sweetheart; it's rare that someone is so sweet to you.
"Then need me, want me."
"I do," this time when he kisses you, it's gentle, full of warmth and unexpected love, and the way he holds you close makes you feel so precious and desired at once, "but not like this, not now." And he's letting you go, despite the way your lips tingle and the damn butterflies in your stomach. You desperately want to cling to him, to ask him what the fuck he means, but he kisses you on the forehead and tells you to get back safe, wearing an almost smug, knowing smile, disappearing into the crowd. You can't even go after him, he's made you damn weak in the knees and all you can do is lean against the wall for support.
Felix and his girl have disappeared.
Your friends are still living it up on the dance floor, you're sure, but you have only one thought on your mind.
Oliver Quick is a fucking tease.
486 notes · View notes
kaeddehara · 1 year
Text
♱ — STUDYING WITH ALBEDO — NSFW
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+. NOTES — this is a slightly longer than anticipated drabble about your perverted classmate albedo who’s top of his class. he’s been eyeing you for some time and unnoticed by him, you might share those same feelings for him…!
+. WARNINGS — nsfw + mdni + blowjob + virgin bedo + college au + voyerism + exhibitionism + slight hair pulling + shy!virigin!bedo x dominate!experienced!reader !
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albedo had a similar routine of study sessions he held for those who asked for help from him. it was few, but in those times, he enjoyed it. often being so quiet and kept to himself, getting to not only talk to others but it being about something he really enjoys? it brings out the absolute best in him! that’s not to say when he found out you wanted to have a study session with him, he practically stuttered over his words and face turned red. having such a cute girl like you wanting to spend time with him was making albedo hot in the face. even if it was just studying. you seemed so sweet, gentle even with a calming energy that matched his own. even then, albedo has little to no experience talking with girls. he often found his eyes wandering and heart pumping so fast he couldn’t hear anything except it. how pathetic he was, overthinking every little detail even though all you probably wanted was some quick studying in.
“albedo?”
you said a little louder to get his attention. he’s been spacing out for some time now and it was starting to worry you. his eyes finally darting everywhere as he regains his focus.
“i-i’m um—“
he stutters over his words which you found adorable.
trying your best to hold back a smirk as you give him a small smile.
“my apologies, start over again with what you were saying”.
so sweet of him.
though, it was a good cover up for how he really was. you’d follow where his pretty blue eyes wandered and sometimes could even make out a faint outline of his bulge in his pants. how cute. he could barley keep it together around you. you started over from where you were as albedo continued your study session. he was surprisingly a good instructor when he got into topics he enjoyed. his otherwise quiet and cold demeanor was soon pushed away. but before you could get too distracted, you asked him a question while he began to pack things up.
“why not let me treat you! it’s well deserved after all”
albedo scratched the side of his face in thought. he didn’t know the next time he’d have a chance like this but what if you weren’t even into him at all? he mentally sighed as he knew he shouldn’t even be thinking of asking you of anything. if anything, you probably just felt bad for him right?
“there’s no need please, im more than happy just to help you with class work”
you sighed a little at his response but also wanted to smile at how respectful he came off.
“how about…i help you out with something else?”
“something else?”
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“someone’s gonna see, someone’s gonna- ah-!”
albedo covered his mouth as quickly as he let that pathetic whine out. taking a good look around to make sure no one else was there to witness what was going down. how could you get both of you in such a risky situation? you only continued on your reward for albedo as you tugged at his waist band. he pushed up his glasses up as he tried to regain some control of the situation. your pretty hands teasing their way along albedos rather warm skin. his eyes shut at your touch, being so nervous and going solely based off his bodies reactions.
it felt so foreign yet so heavenly for albedo it was hard to contain any sort of composure. finally pulling down his pants enough to release him, he felt the cold air touch his hot to the touch skin. seething slightly at the feeling, albedo lowly groaned, a hand soon coming to cover his mouth and avoid any unwanted attention or getting caught. letting his cock release from the constriction of his pants as his aching hard cock bobbed under its own weight. from someone of albedos stature, it was a pretty impressive size. such a pretty color and shape too. the soft outline of his v-line tempted you go hard to continue teasing but thought it best to get down to it straight away to save him the build up.
always having a feeling these kinda boys were hiding something. the thickness made you drool at the thought of how nice he would feel stretching you out, but that would have to be saved for another time <3. this only urging yourself to wrap your fingers around him and gently pump his aching cock up and down in rhythmic motions. you looked up to albedo, watching his pretty features become distorted with this overwhelming pleasure.
“f-fuck that feels good”
he couldn’t even hold back his own thoughts anymore. best part was, you hadn’t even gotten to the actual reward.
“you can’t deny me now can you bedo?” you teasingly joked with him as he shifted his hips in his seat to look more natural.
“hah..i guess..”
you giggled at his attempt to keep a cool face and quiet voice even though his heart was racing. as you continued stroking him, you’d watched him become more relaxed, taking this as a sign to move on. you moved your face closer to his swelled tip before looking up to him once more. feeling your breath on his skin was such a heavenly feeling in itself. still keeping that eye contact, you began to give his neglected tip gentle licks and kisses. as you did so you pulled back for a moment to ask albedo a question.
“have you ever gotten a blowjob albedo?” already knowing the answer but still wanting to hear what he had to say.
“n-no..”
you could tell he was embarrassed and you loved hearing that in his voice. smiling, you let your spit begin to drip down one of his many thick, pulsing veins as you once again stroked his now slicked cock. the lewd sounds of albedos cock being pumped while you continued to kiss and lick his tip were already getting you needy.
“guess i’ll be your first then hm?” albedos cheeks where flushed along with his mouth being slightly parted. he looked so pretty all messy for you. he nodded awkwardly but that didn’t last for long as you soon took albedo inside your tight, hot mouth. albedos back practically arched at the feeling. as his hand, out of some sort of instinct, made its way to your hair. you looked up to him while stilling him inside your mouth. he’s so fucking cute you can’t wait to show him what else you can make him feel. starting to bob your head gently up and down albedo still had to get used to the feeling of your mouth.
he’d seen this in porn he’s watched many times before but never would he have imagined it feeling so damn good. his pretty blue eyes becoming half lidded because of the immense pleasure. focusing on your mouth, you moved your hands up to rest of his thigh.
taking glances up to see if albedo was enjoying his first ever blowjob and yet, you could tell he was still so stressed and worried about getting caught. even while knowing there was no one else in the library at that time. squeezing at his thigh and rubbing your thumb into the soft flesh to help him relax and soothe his beating heart. he did appreciate it even while he couldn’t help his body.
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“i-i’m so sorry i meant to warn you but-“
albedo cut himself off short when he saw you swallow his cum and lick your lips after. being so in awe of how sensual you were, his pretty class mate licking up his cum in the library after a study session sounded nothing more than a dream after all. putting your hands on his thighs again, you gave him a small smile.
“nothing to be sorry about bedo, you taste nice anyway”
his face was distorted with some sort of rather shocked yet pleased feeling. he pushed up his glasses awkwardly but so cutely after receiving something you’re sure will cloud his mind for weeks. so in awe of how nice you were towards someone like him.
“let’s do this again sometime bedo, next time we can take it to my dorm”
“may i ask— why did you do this for me?”
you smiled gently at his question.
“to thank you for helping me out, it’s only fair right?”
albedo thought about your response momentarily before you leaned in closer to his body.
“also, because i think you’re cute silly”
leaving a small kiss on his thigh, he tensed up but never once denied you of anything. having albedo wrapped around your finger was such an easy task that had been earned <3.
albedo was still twitching slightly from his orgasm, especially his sensitive little thighs, so you took his silence as a compliment. who knew treating that cute, nerdy boy would be such a reward.
“see you next study session yeah?”
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1K notes · View notes
bumblebeesfromvenus · 4 months
Text
Stuffed Heart 🧸
Leon S. Kennedy x reader
A/N: How's your year going so far?? I'm so sorry for just disappearing for two weeks 😭 I was so goddamn tired, and I just didn't have the energy to write. I'll be working on your requests immediately, I promise!! To get back in and as a little apology, have this 🩷
~ Fi 🐝
《Warnings》: fluffy omfg, this might be completely ooc for Leon, but it's cute, so it gets a pass.
《Word count》: 1.2k
Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.
Masterlist ✨️
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🩷◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇🌌◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇🩷
"Promise you won't laugh at me?"
"Baby, why would I ever laugh at you?"
You chewed on your lip, your brows pulled together while your hands were behind your back. Today was the first night you'd spent in your new shared apartment together.
You were beyond excited, but you were embarrassed of your sleeping habits, having them be deemed childish by many other people. And the last thing you wanted Leon to see you as was childish.
Sure, you'd spent nights together; most of them at his place. And when you did spend them at yours, you always made sure to stuff your embarrassing secret into the farthest depths of your closet.
You loved Leon more than anything, and the fact that you were thinking he would look at you weird or even laugh at you made the guilt in your stomach bubble up. He was the kindest person you knew, and he was your boyfriend. He wouldn't think of you differently. Right?
"Because it's embarrassing..." you mumbled, your head hanging low.
Leon raised a brow at you. He was seated on the edge of your bed, already dressed in his sleep attire, as were you.
"Sweetheart, whatever you're hiding behind your sweet little self, I can assure you, is not embarrassing. We're in a relationship, being embarrassed around each other is off the table." He chuckled, making a faint smile tug at your lips.
"C'mere." Leon spread his thighs a little and beckoned you to slot between them with a motion of his hands.
Sighing softly, you shuffled over and stood between his legs, your bottom lip joting out in a small pout. His strong arms snaked around your hips.
"I love you, alright? There's nothing you can pull out from behind your back that would make me love you any less. I promise you." Leon said, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss.
"And I don't want to rush you, but I'm dog tired and I just want you in my arms."
He did look tired. There were subtle bags under his eyes, and he had been yawning from to time. His eyes were half lidded, and he had that hazy, goofy grin on his face that you loved so much.
You felt bad for keeping him up, knowing how hard and gruesome his work was. You caved with a sigh.
"Okay..." you started to move your arms from behind your back, a still unsure expression on your face. Your hands settled in front of your stomach, a soft animal plushie in each hand.
Leon's heart swelled when he saw the faint blush on your cheeks and your little soft friends in your grasp. In your right was a light brown bear with a little striped heart on its chest, and in your left was a white bunny with floppy ears and a pink nose.
His smile grew as he inspected the plushies. You were absolutely adorable in his mind, and this had just solidified that fact in his heart as well. God, you were so precious.
You were embarrassed because you owned and presumably wanted to sleep with your beloved stuffies? He swore he felt his heart grow in size as you took over even more of it.
"This... This is what you were embarrassed about?" He asked gently, a sweet grin on his face.
"I mean... yeah. I know it's childish and maybe even weird but-" Leon interrupted you with his thumb over your lips as he cupped your cheek.
"S'not childish or weird. I think it's really cute, actually."
"You do?" You asked in slight disbelief, your shoulders dropping.
"I do. Now, are you gonna introduce me to your friends?" He smiled, rubbing circles into the back of your thighs. An inevitable smile broke out on your face as you held your pluhsies a little higher so they were at eye level with Leon.
"This," you lifted the fluffy bear just a little,"is Honey. And this is Rosie." You said softly, the soft ears of the bunny moving with your movement.
"Nice to meet you, ladies." he said politely, taking their small paws and shaking them. He had to take them between two fingers as his hand could engulf them whole.
"I hope you took good care of my girl, yeah?" You had to stop yourself from squealing and giggling. This was the most adorable interaction you'd ever witnessed and it was between your stuffed animals and your boyfriend.
"Can they stay?" You questioned timidly, still insecure about your plushies despite the obvious positive response from Leon.
"Bold of you to assume they're allowed to leave." He grinned with a mischievous glint in his eyes, swiftly pulling you on top of him, successfully trapping both Honey and Rosie between the two of you. You giggled when you fell onto his chest, your legs dangling off the edge of the bed.
"Oh wow, they're really snuggly." His words were muffled, his face nuzzling against the soft tops of their heads that were peaking out from underneath you.
Before you could respond and tell him that you take very good care of them because they mean a lot to you, he whispered another phrase, so quiet you could've missed it.
"They smell like you, I love them." It made your heart melt. It was a sleepy ramble, a dazed confession as his eyes started to fall shut.
"M'sorry for keeping you up, Baby." You whispered, brushing some of his stray blonde strands out of his face. Leon mumbled something that resembled a simple 'S'okay', tightening his arms around your middle. He did eventually maneuver your little cuddle pile further onto the bed until his head finally hit his soft pillow.
He'd refused to let go of you, making the moving of the cuddle pile a little inconvenient as he shimmied his body up the bed with drowsy grunts while you rocked from side to side, little giggles escaping you.
"I could've just gotten off, you know." You grinned sleepily, gazing up at Leon who was basically out cold at this point, though he made no effort to ever loosen his arms around you.
"S'much better like this. 'nd I'm a strong boy." He sighed, all the tension and stress that sat rooted deep within his muscles fading away.
You couldn't help but smile when he attempted a vague flexing motion only for his heavy arm to fall back onto your waist.
"The strongest boy. My strong boy." You nuzzled your face into his chest, your stuffed bear hugged close to your heart while Rosie was pressed up against Leon's cheek, squishing it in the cutest way possible.
He smiled when he heard you call him 'your strong boy'. He knew that he would never have nightmares when he was with you, your comfort and affection shielding him from all the evil his mind conjured up.
And now, with a snuggly bunny plush pressed against his face, the fluffy bear on his chest and you, his perfect girl, in his arms he was content as ever.
So, with a smile on both your faces and a fulfilled heart, you drifted off into the soft pink and purple swirls that were your dreamland.
With mumbled 'good night's and 'I love you's, you couldn't wait to wake up tomorrow and do it all over again.
🩷◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇🌌◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇🩷
Hope you enjoyed <3
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raphaelsrightarm · 5 months
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Hi ! can I request a (dating) Donnie x Fem!reader ? just a fluff one shot with the two doing something cute and wholesome up to your choosing such as a movie marathon, making brownies together, his comfort when you have bad cramps etc.
Breathe
Is this corny? Maybe. Actually yes it absolutely is. It's a selfish piece of mine and I make no apologies
Once again I apologize for a long wait and I have multiple old requests that I am still working on so stay tuned haha
My first Donnie fluff let's get it
Words: 2031
Warning: None
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You were laying on his chest when you realized he would match your breathing.
It was a rare kind of morning when he had left his lab behind and joined you in his own bed.  He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you as close as he could. You folded into him so perfectly that it was hard for him to believe that there was ever another path for his life to take without you in it. 
There were times when he would tease you when the swirls across his plastron would put indents on your face, but not today. Today he ran the tips of his lithe fingers along your spine, your shirt pooled at the back of your neck. 
It was so rare to have these moments with him. To pull him from his desk and for him to let you do it, for him to leave behind his safe space. It wasn’t that he didn’t love these moments, he did. More than anything he did. But he was always worried about falling behind. His role was important, one that placed a weight on his shoulders that only you seemed to be able to free him of. 
He was trying to force himself to sleep, you figured out. He hadn’t spoken since he made his way in here to you, pulling you against him and enjoying how warm you were from being wrapped in his comforter all night.
You inhaled deeply against him, feeling him do the same. You had been rising and falling slowly against his plastron all morning, not yet noticing the synchronization. 
He didn’t seem to realize he was doing it, either. His rolling hand along your back had slowed to a stop, his eyes were gently shut. He had finally managed to fall asleep, his warm arm laying limp across you like a quilt.
His breathing had taken on its own rhythm then, but that didn’t stop you from attempting to further prove your theory.  
He appeared in your window the next evening as you were baking cookies. Everything was set out, scattered across the countertops. His eyes took in the explosion of baking supplies before him before finding you in the middle of it. Your expression a mixture of determination and frustration.
“You know,” He started, reveling in the smile you had when you saw him. “People say baking is supposed to be a relaxing activity.”
“Well, the people who say that are the people who are good at it.”
He moved closer to inspect your workstation, his finger running a line through a patch of what might either be flour or baking soda, both of which you had spilled. 
“I know it’s a mess.” You started, but before you could utter an apology at the state of the place, he smiled, shaking his head. 
“Who are these for?” He walked behind you, grabbing dirty measuring spoons and bowls and moving them closer to the sink. 
“They could be for you, if you clean up after me when I’m done.”
He made a show of looking around the kitchen, turning his head to the mess he had congregated to the sink, as well as the surfaces of the counters covered in powder. “I’m not sure I’ll be having any.”
You scoffed. “It’s not that bad.”
“Is this supposed to be on?” He gestured toward the oven, and only then did you realize you meant to begin preheating it when you started. The grin on his face meant he already knew the answer, so you turned your head back toward the bowl. Yet still grateful as you heard the oven beeping behind you as he set the temperature. 
After a few minutes the batch of cookies was in the oven, leaving nothing but 15 minutes to glare at the destroyed kitchen which, as part of the deal, Donnie had begun helping clean up. 
“I don’t understand how you can make a mess like this.” He said, picking up another measuring spoon, adding it to the pile of others to be washed. “Why did you need so many of these?”
“Need is maybe not the most accurate word.” You had the bag of flour in your hands when the possibility came to your mind. It was more of a thought that wouldn’t go away, one that you want to act out even though you knew you shouldn't.
Before you could stop yourself, you hand drifted into the bag, gathering up a small pinch of flour as you walked closer to him. He glanced up to you, unaware of what was coming, just before you flicked the flour toward him. 
You both watched as it barely drifted against him, yet the challenge that sparked in his eyes 
You made a useless attempt to save yourself. “That was an accident,” though saying it through fighting a stubborn laugh didn’t help. 
“I’m sure it was.” He took a step toward you, a smile pulling against his lips. You planned on sprinting around into your living room, maybe even making an attempt to lock yourself in the bathroom. You realized just a moment too late just how long his arms were, and they wrapped around your waist before you could register it. 
He practically tucked you underneath his elbow, freeing his other arm so he could, to your horror, reach his hand into the bowl of flour. 
“Don’t you dare.” You tried to make it sound like a threat, but your breath was short from laughter. Either way, it was a plea that landed on deaf ears as a flick of flour throughout what little space was left between the two of you. You clenched your eyes shut as it scattered across your face. He released you then, laughing so hard you heard him snort.  
You feigned offense, slowly reaching into the bowl yourself. You knew well that he could’ve been halfway across the room by the time you threw a handful of the powder back at him, yet he stayed where he was, the two of you laughing like children as the counters and surrounding floor became covered in a sprinkling of white dust. 
After a while, you doubled over, holding a hand on the counter as you tried to catch your breath. He placed a hand on your back, and slowly, suspiciously, you straightened out. 
You were greeted with a soft smile on his flour patched face, and you knew that if he had gotten hit that you must have been worse. He reached his hand up and ran a thumb across your cheek in an attempt to dust some of it off. 
“Have fun cleaning this up.” You said as he laughed again as he pulled you against his chest, your nose pressed to the underside of his jaw. 
“That could be a fun thing to do together.”
“Who said anything about us doing it together? We had a deal.”
“We never shook on it.” 
The two of you stayed in this moment, ignoring the chaos around you. You searched for it again then, taking in a deep breath, and feeling him do the same. Each breath he took a loving mimic. He felt you smile against his skin, and all he did was hold you tighter. 
It was a few days later  when you struck a deal with him that if he were to leave his desk behind he would be the one to decide what the two of you do. He had chosen movies, secretly because it meant he didn’t have to stray far from his work. 
Though, it wasn’t much of a secret anymore. There had been nights before when you thought you had been able to convince him to leave his lab to get some rest, only for him to sneak away the second you fell asleep. But tonight would not be one of them. 
The two of you had taken up the couch, his brothers making themselves scarce, which you were sure was Donnie’s doing, though you didn’t mind. He held you closer when no one else was around, his hands always absentmindedly massaging your skin.
He had decided upon the first Iron Man film, which was playing before the two of you. You were certain it was because he had seen it already so many times, and he would be ready with slipping back to his work. 
At least he thought he would be, until you decided you wanted to lay on top of him instead of next to him. 
It started with you draping your leg over his. Which he didn’t seem to mind, his hand going to rest easily on your knee. 
Then it turned into shifting to your side to place both your legs over his, hanging them between his knees. 
“What are you up to?” He whispered, his arm that was wrapped around you moving to run his fingertips across your shoulder blades. You shrugged at him, but you could tell he wasn’t convinced. 
The two of you stayed like this for a while, the movie half finished, before you flexed your knees, pulling yourself further onto his lap. He didn’t stop you, instead let out an amused sigh. You dramtically draped over the front of him, legs hanging over his, arms laying out over his sides. His hands went to their usual places on your torso as you felt him relax into the couch, resigning to his new fate. 
“You had this planned all along, didn’t you?”
Your smile answered his question.  “Now you’re stuck here.” You kissed his cheek. “With me.”
“I guess there are worse things.” His chest rising once again to match yours for a brief moment, his hands pressed to your ribs. “But not by much.” 
He laughed as you playfully swatted at his arm. 
His laughter had warped into a song to you. You blamed it on sleep deprivation and simply being wrapped up beside him for so long. 
He had texted you earlier that night to meet him on top of your roof and to bring a coat. When you had arrived, you saw how he had set up a little nest for the two of you. Blankets piled up beneath the two of you and draped over top. He had set up a projector, and the two of you watched a movie before turning attention to the sky, and what few stars you could see. 
The air had bite to it, and you pressed closer to him under the blankets than you were already. You were taking turns pointing out constellations for a while, before you began making up your own. Partly for entertainment, but mostly so you had more reason to stay out here. 
“That one looks like Elton John,” He said, pointing to a random cluster of lights in the sky.
“You’ve said Elton John already.”
“No I haven’t.” He traced the shape. “That’s his head, those are his glasses. Stars already.”
You laughed again. “Ok, that one looks bigger than the other ones, that one’s the north star.” 
“That’s not north.” He squinted. “And I think that’s an airplane.” 
“What?” You noticed then the blinking light tracing behind it, blaming your exhaustion on missing it the first time. “Oh.”
He laughed until he snorted, and you knew he must be tired as well. You found he laughed much easier when he hadn’t slept in a while. You knew the two of you should head inside soon, a safer spot to rest. But this night had been so nice, neither one of you wanted to mention the idea. 
“That one is Casseopeia.” You pointed to the same spot you had been pointing to all night, no longer even attempting to be correct. 
“Casseopeia also points north, dove.” 
“And that’s not north?”
He laughed again, tightening his hold around you. Your eyes became heavy, and you allowed yourself to get lost in the feeling of him so close to you. 
It was then you decided to confirm your theory once more, taking in a large breath of the chill air. He followed a second behind. 
You smiled, drifting off to sleep wrapped within the safety of his arms.
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Hi I wanted to tell you that I love how you write! And since the requests for the Headcanons are open I take this opportunity! \ ^ ° ^ / A Headcanons with Leona, Malleus, Azul and Vil who (accidentally) break something dear to MC, something that cannot be replaced with anything else or bought back, because it has a great emotional bond and is a unique thing for MC (from the simple necklace, ring to the music box or whatever you like best), so they have to actually find a way to fix it, because even if MC told them he doesn't care, it was really bad. Sorry for my poor English! I love you a kiss!
Azul Ashengrotto: 
Azul dreaded having to tell you about the accident; as easy as it would be to blame it on Jade and Floyd, it wouldn’t have been very honest. And while Azul doesn’t think his honesty was a defining trait, he always fumbled through his lies with you to the point he might as well just tell the truth. He does try to get it repaired before letting you know about it, hoping to restore it to its previous state by any means necessary. If he doesn’t have to put you through unnecessary heartbreak, than that’s better than just outright telling you the truth right away, right?
Leona Kingscholar: 
Leona can see the hurt written across your face. Your words didn’t match your expression, the smile not reaching your eyes—you must’ve been a fool if you thought you could pull one over on him. Yet he didn’t call it out, knowing his selfishness was the cause, and he kept it to himself without another comforting word. He was the type who preferred actions over words so he began to look into getting your precious item repaired, hoping if he bestowed that upon you (along with a string of other ‘forgive me’ gifts) you’d find it in your heart to accept his (non-spoken) apology.
Malleus Draconia: 
There are many things that crumble like paper when they’re in Malleus’ hands and this accident was from another magical outburst. The concept of this item being more important to you than him, reminding him that you came from another world, he had a moment of weakness where he got too caught up in his thoughts. A simple apology would never work, nor would explaining his thought process, and he could bear to think about how hurt you’d be to know he destroyed something precious to you. After hours of attempts he managed to restore it with magic, explaining to you (with a bit of a smug look, though you don’t know why) that your object was new and improved since it had a piece of his magic in it now as well.
Vil Schoenheit: 
Vil isn’t normally this careless, especially not with others precious objects. He had several things that were very dear to him and he knew he’d be hurt if you fumbled around with them without a care in the world. It wasn’t on purpose but accidents did happen, and this was something that wasn’t so easily repaired. Even Rook had stated it was quite a unique item, and it might be a bit hard to find somewhere that might restore it, but it was worth a try. In the meantime Vil offers a sincere apology, telling you that he planned on making it up to you.
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jayjj7 · 4 months
Text
chapter 19. puppy (written)
prev. next masterlist
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as you wait for yunjin to arrive to class, you pull out her flash card notes she let you borrow. it really was sweet of her to let you borrow them without question and out of the kindness of her own heart. when you first received them, you copied them down and realized that she might be actually going somewhere in life, unlike yourself. you never really gave much thought as to what you would do in life and always said ‘it’s a problem for later’…but that later is soon.
before your thoughts were able to get too depressing you felt a hand on your shoulder.
“hey!” yunjin greets you as she sits down next you, placing her bag on the table
“hey yunjin, here are your flash cards thank you so so much really” you hand her the pack of cards neatly without a fold or imperfection on them.
“y/n, i told you it was no problem” she tilts her head and smiles. “besides, i needed to pay back the favor for you helping me study” yunjin smiles as she flips through her own cards.
“that was no big deal really, i’m happy to help whenever you need it” believe it or not, you shocked yourself with your own words. was that too bold?
“likewise- oh by the way, the professor assigned a pop quiz this thursday” yunjin breaks the news to you.
“oh great” you roll your eyes and open your laptop.
the professor you and yunjin have talks pretty fast while giving lessons, even with the powerpoint slides he has, its hard to keep up with what he’s saying. as you write as fast as you can to keep up with the important information he’s giving, you misspell a word that can’t be fixed with writing the correct letter over it in darker ink.
damn
you reach out to grab yunjin’s correction tape but instead you’re met with warm, soft, delicate skin.
“oh sorry go ahead” you apologize because after all it is her correction tape.
“no no use it! it’s fine!” yunjin whispers
“it’s your correction tape, you can use it”
“y/n please-“
“HEY” a loud voice over the speakers interrupts the both of you. in response you both look up out of fear.
“quiet down” the professors stern voice shoots at both of you, ending the debate on who gets to use the correction tape. after calling you guys out and having the whole room turn to inspect the cause of disruption, he continues the lesson.
you and yunjin slowly turn your heads to look at each other before she smiles and picks up the correction tape and puts it in your hand.
“that was so embarrassing” you cover your face as you stand up from seat. class had just ended and you wanted to get out of that room more than anything.
“hey its okay! everyone will forget about it by next class” yunjin tries to cheer you up and pats the side of your arm.
“ughhhh” you groan out as you toss your bag over your shoulder. “i hate him so much, he’s so annoying. we weren’t even that loud! also why does he even care it’s not like we-“ as you continue to complain yunjin just nods and smiles at you. not realizing that you guys are walking out of class together, out of the science building, into the cafeteria just talking about the professor and the work.
while you and yunjin were grabbing food in the cafeteria she interrupts you by laughing.
“y/n you’re really funny” yunjin grabs a piece of bread and puts it on your plate. “you make everything seems so interesting”
you both walk to sit down at a table while you try to remain calm from yunjin’s sudden compliment.
“you know, we should really hangout besides just studying” yunjin suggests as she takes a bite of the rice she picked up.
“yeah id love to”
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taglist : [ @1luvkarina @thefckghost @everydayiloveyves @may-madness @modanisgf ] (taglist is open!!)
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malleusfucker · 2 years
Text
a night with leona and malleus
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warnings: smut/nsfw, angry sex, unprotected sex, just malleus and leona being greedy bastards, reader is afab but no gender or pronouns are explicitly specified - i tried to keep it as gender neutral as possible
synopsis: threesome with leona & malleus, they’re both irritated with how you’ve been leading them on so in turn they both come to an agreement to fuck you at the same time just to basically ruin you. 
words: 2k
this is my first ever smut that i tried to write in detail so pls ignore if its shit 😭 my grades in english were terrible so dont judge 😐 also i might as well change my user to malleus&leonafucker bc at this point theyre all i can write about LMAO
-
you can say that you have a very fickle mind. suddenly being placed in a college with so many different and eccentric characters out of the blue definitely piqued your interest. some can say it was almost too much - your eyes constantly diverting to different faces making you act in a way that you never did before, though, that being a result of two people in particular. leona kingscholar and malleus draconia.  
since the moment you set foot in the college, you haven't been able to take your eyes off the two dorm leaders, whose very presence causes you to sweat and shuffle your feet under your desk. and albeit challenging, being placed in classes with them gave you the opportunity to eventually get rid of the itch you'd get under your collar.
the auras that both malleus and leona exuded were so attractive and tempting in their own different ways that they just served to further confuse you every day. you became increasingly irresponsible as you got to know them better with each class, to the point where you would ultimately steal kisses from both of them. you never considered your relationships with them to be anything more than casual sexual encounters; nothing more than that. every time you got close with the two stunning princes, with academic prowess you'd never see in a million years, it both humbled you and boosted your ego. 
however,  you were terribly naive in assuming you could mislead the two men for your own selfish ends because one thing you were unfortunately unaware of  was that they were anything but dumb.
malleus and leona both slowly caught onto your little game - taking note of how you would focus all of your attention on one of them while ignoring the other. to put it mildly, it infuriated them. and to add salt to the wound, they were fiercely competitive with one another, and seeing how you treated them like toys led them to reach a bizarre agreement.
you were comfortably asleep in your run-down dorm in the middle of the night when all of a sudden, a hand violently ripped your bedsheets off of you. your eyelids slowly opened as the chill began to spread across your flesh, only to be greeted by two sets of brilliant green eyes. “apologies for intruding on you at such an odd time like this-” the taller male with horns, who was clutching the bed frame at your feet, smirked at you eerily. immediately, you widened your eyes and repositioned yourself so you were sitting up straight 
“wh- leona?! malleus?! what the hell are you doing here? how did you get in-” without even being able to finish your sentence, leona grabbed your face and forcefully pulled you towards both of them grimacing at you with disgust “huh, you got some guts actin’ so innocently like that - ‘just pisses me off even more” you were trying so hard to spit your words out but the more you tried the harder leona gripped your face - it only resulted in your body starting to tremble and fear bubbling up in your stomach. 
you were so confused, what did they want with you? and especially at this hour? all these questions were racking your brain but were immediately cut short when the two princes simultaneously pinned you aggressively onto your bed.
with leona’s firm hand still covering your mouth, you unexpectedly felt a long wet tongue lick a stipe up your exposed neck eventually leading up to the shell of your ear. you yelped at the sudden attention and darted your eyes to your left where you saw malleus leaning against you lowering his hand towards your crotch. the two men were only encouraged by your muffled voice and became more ready to humiliate you.
without warning, malleus pulled down your shorts and slipped his hand inside your pants. his gentle fingers caressed your sensitive spot on your body, turning your dread into shameful pleasure. the two men already had you at their mercy without even touching you that much. and with your arousal increasing by the second, all you wanted was for them to touch and fondle you more. whilst malleus showed some generosity towards you, leona, on the other hand, did not. he hated everything about the situation, just the idea alone that you were secretly getting intimate with malleus whilst also being the same with him made him gag and gave him all the more reason to just completely break you.
whilst malleus was palming your crotch, he leaned in and kissed your lips sweetly. it was his touch that reminded you exactly why you enjoyed his company so much - everything he does is just filled with grace and tenderness which just made this situation feel all the more surreal. you closed your eyes and gave into his kiss, letting his tongue inside your mouth, feeling his slender fingers slowly ease inside of you, making you moan. he steadily pumped his fingers in and out of you, noticing all the slick start to drip from his hand making him smirk against your mouth.
“oi.”
leona interrupted your kiss by once again grabbing your face, but this time he seemed more spiteful than before. “this wasn’t a part of the agreement.” leona scowled and glared across to malleus, still thrusting and curling his fingers inside of you making you rut your hips up against them “hm? what’s the problem?” leona scoffed, furrowing his brow “you don’t get to have all the fun you fucking bastard.” he grabbed malleus’ hand which was in your pants and snatched it away from your body. 
the immediate absence of the pleasure that was slowly building up inside of you made you gasp and you opened your eyes to see leona quickly shove malleus’ fingers straight into your mouth. “ngh!-” you gagged at the sudden force being pressed against the back of your throat and looked over at malleus to see a face of brief shock quickly turn into smugness. “hehe… well go ahead kingscholar. they’re all yours.” the sound of their bickering back and forth over what they were going to do to you made you feel a lot more excited than you’d like to admit and you were beginning to feel restless.
fortunately for you, leona could smell how aroused you were, but due to his arrogant attitude, he was more than furious. you weren't the only one who became restless though, as leona began to fumble with his belt buckle and threw it across the floor. 
while you were kissing malleus, you were unaware of how hard leona was getting just from the sight of you, although feeling guilty about it. he pulled down his pants and let his dick spring free which hit against his stomach before pumping it a few times, pearls of pre-cum started to gently emerge on the head. he then took hold of your hair and forced your face into his crotch, causing you to abruptly gag as the length of his member forced its way inside of your mouth. he didn’t give you any time to adjust or even make you realise what was going on and suddenly snapped his hips up towards you and pushed your head down even further. 
tears already pricked at the corners of your eyes and you felt shame like you had never experienced - the shame being that you have never felt this aroused in your life before. 
leona started to grunt and grind against your face, his grip on your hair only getting harsher and his pace getting more brutal.
“hah~ you’re so… fucking disgusting you know that?” he continued to blurt out insults to you, only deepening your guilt and humiliation but just turning you on even more to his surprise.
you were gagging and unable to breathe but even so, you couldn’t ignore the throbbing ache you were feeling from your crotch - wishing that something, someone could relieve you of your frustration. luckily for you though, that’s exactly what malleus was there for. 
he could see how your body twitched and how your desire trickled down your thighs and onto the bed from behind. malleus eventually made the decision to satisfy your hunger out of kindness for you.
he grabbed your legs and propped them up so that you were on all-fours. leonas hand still holding your head in a vice, malleus gently touched your crotch. he massaged his fingers in between your wet folds, causing you to whimper and stick your butt into the air to give him better access.
“hehe, so eager.. you do know that you’re the one that caused all of this?” following suit, malleus undid his pants and released both of his cocks, which had already begun to ache when he entered your room.
malleus seemed to be a nice man, yet his actions were anything but. he lined up against your entrance, briefly rubbing the tip against your slit, and slammed his hips into you, giving you no opportunity to prepare. your already watering eyes quickly were screwed shut as a result of the unexpected force and pain. you tried to cry out, but your voice was stifled by leona's length as he continued to abuse the back of your throat and forcibly shoved his way in and out of your mouth.
it was a matter of seconds before malleus started to rock his hips, one of his dicks brutally assaulting your insides whilst the other slapped against your crotch with each thrust. you were starting to dreadfully realise that the two dorm leaders weren’t here for you, but instead to use you just like you had used them. 
as malleus's pace intensified and became more severe, his delicate touch started to lose meaning. when leona saw his climax approaching, he abruptly slammed your face right down to the base and sprayed all of his pent-up cum into the back of your throat. he shoved your face up from his dick, releasing your mouth with an embarrassingly loud ‘pop’ all the while your hole was getting constantly assaulted by the darker-haired male behind you.
as leona descended from his high and malleus continued to drive into you, the room was filled with gasps and moans. now that your mouth was free, your whimpers and whines were becoming louder by the second. you could feel malleus’ cock throb more intensely inside of you. after what felt like hours of agonising pleasure, he spewed thick ropes of cum into you, filling you to the point where it seeped out of your hole. when the two men got you in this position, they felt even more determined to treat you more brutally. you were drained, out of breath, and your legs were shaking like never before wishing that they would be easy on you. 
malleus bared his fangs as he slowly pulled out of you, noticing all of his cum spilling from out of you. 
while malleus was thrusting into you leona sat surprisingly patient, pumping his cock in his hand waiting for his turn. and now that malleus had finished with you he wasted no time before he quickly pounced on you. you were still catching your breath before you felt another cock thrust its way inside of you with no warning. your pleas and cries were starting to become insignificant and only made the two men want to fasten their pace.
hours went on, them constantly switching turns and thrusting more and more cum inside of you every time. your mind had gone white, having lost count of how many times you climaxed and your body had gone limp. 
it was clear as day to you that the two dorm leaders were just using you for their own sadistic pleasure and feared how long they would continue as they didn’t show any signs of stopping.
-
every round was seemingly more intense than the last. to the point where malleus’ frustration started to spill out onto you, though not showing it as much as leona. 
he was still angry with you for secretly getting with leona behind his back and it showed with each thrust getting more merciless and rough. his claws digging deeper into the flesh of your thighs, making your legs buckle from underneath you from all the stimulation. 
your moaning of both their names rang in their ears as they continued their plan to completely break you. you could see how leona's chest was heaving from all the rounds he was having with you, but because of his stuck-up pride, he didn't want to stop until he and malleus were sure that you had learned your lesson to not play around with them. 
-
you could see in the corner of your eye that the sun was slowly beginning to rise and you could hear the faint sound of birds chirping outside. 
you didn’t realise just how long they were going at it for and were surprised that you weren’t passed out from all the overwhelming pain and pleasure they were constantly forcing onto you. 
your eyes were slowly starting to shut as you felt the lack of touch on your skin, thinking that they finally finished their torturous game with you. hearing malleus faintly giggle behind you, he gently kissed you on your shoulder before him and leona both made their way out of your dorm. 
you felt extremely humiliated, but more than that, you felt exhausted. knowing that it was morning now, you groaned at the thought of having to go to your lessons and worse - having to see the two dorm leaders in your class after having the most intense night of your life.
you were certain of one thing though. that you were never going to toy with leona and malleus ever again.
-
nah bc this was surprisingly so fun to write considering how shite i am at writing longer stuff but also how tf do yall not end up writing 10k words it was so hard not to write a whole ass novel omg 😭😭 but hey im just horny for these two n just wanna fuck the shit outta them lmao
3K notes · View notes
mins-fins · 4 days
Text
pearls.
&&. its easy to let go around you, mark is so glad he has you as an escape.
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pairing: mark lee x m!reader
genre: angsty but it ends fluffy, idol x regular joe
warnings: mentions of overworking
word count: 1.4k
notes: wrote this for the n01 markf ever in the world!!!! if yk who you are, yk who you are 🫶 anw, i am so terribly in love with mark this is absolutely vile 🙁 save me from this insanely pretty canadian man (DONT SAVE ME), if you can forgive me for not updating for literally TEN DAYS, take this as my apology.. i am so so very corny so those little ending love confessions come from real words i have said to my own very real bf 😞 again sorry for not updating for very long my knee is pretty injured AND life is so shitty.. okay i love you all bye 😓
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you won't try to come up for an explanation as to why you were up at one in the morning.
yeah you were tired, but you were still up making coffee in your kitchen. your mind was racing with thoughts of work, god your job stresses you out so much, it's going to end up killing you one day, you can't close your eyes without hearing the loud shouting of your manager and overbearing customers who think they own the world.
sleep has never came easy to you, so coffee at one in the morning it is. the aroma of roasted beans makes it's way around the air of your kitchen, a smell that has become a staple of comfort to you, yeah the excessive coffee intake might kill you someday, but right now? right now you felt like you were in heaven.
your coffee drinking is interrupted by a knock at your day, your head shoots up like your a deer caught in headlights, and you blink at the unmoving wooden door of your unit. you're not expecting anyone, and especially not at one in the morning. your mind races with questions as you place the heated mug onto your kitchen counter, groaning silently as you make your way over to the door.
you can't think of who could possibly be at your door, maybe your manager? one of your coworkers? a guy from amazon delivering a package originally for your neighbors?
the last option seems like the most probable one, so when you open your door, you prepare a small sentence for the delivery person you expect to be at your door. "for the last time unit 17 is on the second floo—"
you pause as you open the door, it is not a random delivery guy from amazon. when you look up to meet the eyes of the person who had knocked on your door, you come face to face with a person you had missed more than anything.
mark.
you find a small smile coming to your face at the sight of your boyfriend, but your smile falls as you take in how he looks. his eyes are red and puffy, he's fidgeting with his sweater strings, and he's bitten his lips so hard that they've begun bleeding. your lips turn downward at the sight before you, he looks stressed, he looks miserable.
"oh god, hi babe, i didn't even know you'd come around".
mark blinks at you, continuing to fidget with the strings of his sweater, the sweater he's wearing is one you bought for him back last year when you went on that trip to vancouver. "sorry" he whispers, blinking again. "i just— i don't know i feel overwhelmed".
you tilt your head, immediately getting what he meant by that. you open your door wider, pausing mark's fidgeting momentarily to grab his left hand to intertwine it with yours. "come in" you don't wait for his response, just tug his hand gently, lurching him forward into your unit and smoothly closing the door behind you.
you catch on to mark's heightened anxiousness, but he seems to be want to be avoiding that topic as much as possible. "did something happen?"
mark is quick to shake his head, way too quick, you narrow your eyes at him and his weird change in behavior. "no, nothing, i'm just.. work, it's all becoming just a little too much for me".
ah, a small frown forms again on your lips. mark is a hardworking person, you know that, but it sometimes all gets to his head, those unbearable thoughts that he's not doing well enough, the unbearable feeling of anxiety that settles whenever he thinks about his future as a musician, the feeling that he's not doing enough even though he already does so much.
you hate that this has become a familiar sight. a distressed mark with tears welled up in his eyes, clearly trying his best to stay put together as he stood in front of your door, each time, it seemed to be getting worse and worse.
you've seen mark at so many of his lows, many more than you like to count, and just the thought of him feeling like he isn't doing enough upsets you.
you're not thinking about anything else when you step forward, not your untouched coffee on the counter, not your shitty job, nothing but making mark feel better. your arms wrap around him instinctively, and you loop your left arm around his waist to pull him into a hug, a hug he doesn't try to fight.
you hear a small sniffle leave mark as you tighten your hold on him, a few years escape his eyes, wetting the top of your sleeve, but you don't care, much too busy embracing him. "i'm sorry, i'm so sorry" your words are nothing but a small whisper in the expanse of your apartment, as if a secret shared only between the two of you, but mark hears your words well, he hears everything he has to. you raise and press a kiss to his forehead, an act of affection that just makes mark even more emotional than he expected.
"you shouldn't have to feel like this, you work so hard, you do so much.."
your mutters only get a small chuckle in response, and you just snicker as well.
mark has always found it easy to let go around you, it's been a staple of your relationship since forever, even before you began dating. around you, he doesn't feel like he has to put on a show, he doesn't have to live up to all of these unrealistic expectations. with you, he doesn't have to be world famous idol mark lee, he doesn't have to be star trainee mark lee, he doesn't have to be perfect, flawless mark lee.
with you, mark can let go, he can just be himself.
mark has no idea what he'd do without you.
when you pull away, arms still caged around mark, he doesn't let go immediately, head still pressed against your shoulder.
nothing else matters at the moment to you. so, instead of trying to move away from him, you let him begin moving you backward, you just allow for him to, lightly squeaking when he pushes you onto the couch and quickly moves to lay on top of you.
you giggle at his dedication, but he doesn't say anything more, just wraps his arms around you and lays his head onto your chest, listening to the beating of your heart. "you tired?"
mark just nods against your chest, letting out a small sigh as he cracks one eye open to glance at you. "y/n?"
"hm?"
"i love you.." he mutters, grabbing your hand and lacing his fingers with yours. "love you so much, i'm so happy i have you".
you laugh. "mark—"
"hush" he places a finger against your lips, cutting off your oncoming words. "let me finish" he gives a tired smile as he continues.
"i can't believe how lucky i am to have you, your always here taking care of me and i.. i can never figure out how to repay you, you're one of the best things to ever happen to me, everything becomes much more bearable with you, i love you so so much it's literally driving me crazy".
you blink as you listen to mark pour his heart out to you. he has always been like this, oh you're so in love, even at some of his lowest points, he never fails to remind you that he loves you, and that he feels so deeply for you. his words always strike you in a strange place, they always get a smile and red face out of you.
oh mark lee always knows how to leave you speechless.
"hey" you whisper, noticing mark slowly looking away from you. "you don't have to repay for me for anything, i'm your boyfriend, i'm always going to look after you because you're wellbeing is important to me, and don't start with all of that, you're one of the best things to happen to me".
mark snorts silently. "love you".
"love you more".
mark leans closer, moving his soft hand against yours. "i know" he whispers.
you run your fingers through his hair, slowly coaxing him to sleep with your ministrations.
"good".
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mysteryshoptls · 9 months
Text
SSR Deuce Spade - Rabbit Wear Vignette
"To be perfectly honest"
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[Clock Town – Deuce's Home]
Ortho: I can't believe you have a fully equipped workshop next door to your home, Deuce Spade-san!
Ortho: Ehehe, I'm excited to think that I might be able to dress up like a white rabbit like everyone else.
Deuce: I didn't expect you to want to dress up like a white rabbit, Ortho.
Deuce: I really hope they'll let us borrow their 3D printer and materials…
Deuce: …Well, guess there's nothing else to do but ring the bell, then.
[buzzes intercom]
Workshop Owner: Yes, hello, who is it?
Deuce: Uh, it's Spade from next door…
Workshop Owner: Spade…? Wait, you're not… DEUCE!?
Deuce: Yes, sir. …It's been a long time.
Deuce: I apologize for this unexpected visit. I was wondering if perhaps we would be able to use some of the equipment you have in your workshop?
Deuce: Of course, we will fully reimburse you for its usage…
Workshop Owner: What did you say…?
Workshop Owner: YOU HAVE SOME NERVE ASKING THAT!
Ortho: EH!? This guy seems really angry…
Workshop Owner: You'd run around with all those punks, causing ruckuses in the middle of the night and destroying all sorts of things…
Workshop Owner: Do you even understand just how much pain and suffering you caused the people of this town?
Workshop Owner: Deila-san came to apologize for you so many times, but that doesn't mean squat here. Get out of here, already!!!
Deuce: I AM SO SORRY FOR ALL OF THE TROUBLE I CAUSED BACK THEN!!
Deuce: I know that I have no right to make this kind of request. But I really want to help my classmate make a rabbit costume!
Workshop Owner: Your classmate? What does my workshop have to do with their costume, in the first place…?
Ortho: Nice to meet you, I am Ortho Shroud. I'm a humanoid!
Ortho: I'm a classmate of Deuce-san at Night Raven College.
Workshop Owner: A h-humanoid?
Ortho: Yep! I really wanted a white rabbit outfit so that I could take part in the White Rabbit Festival…
Ortho: But I can't wear clothes like a living person can, so I want to make my own special gear to wear.
Workshop Owner: I've seen a few human-like robots in my time, but not one that can as eloquent as you!
Workshop Owner: And on top of that, you want to participate in Clock Town's famed White Rabbit Festival. Hmmm, what should I do…
Workshop Owner: Wait, nope, no way! If I let Deuce use my workshop, he'll totally destroy it!
Ortho: DEUCE SPADE-SAN WOULD NEVER DO ANYTHING LIKE THAT!!!
Deuce: Ortho…
Ortho: Do you truly believe that Deuce-san would actually come face-to-face to talk to you like this, hoping you'd let down your guard?
Ortho: THERE'S NO WAY DEUCE-SAN IS SMART ENOUGH TO COME UP WITH THAT KIND OF CUNNING STRATEGY!
Workshop Owner: …When you put it that way, I guess it's true that he used to just show up out of nowhere and just tear about.
Workshop Owner: Does that mean you guys truly came here to just ask for the favor of using my workshop?
Ortho: That's right! Please, mister! Please let us use your workshop!!
Workshop Owner: Sigh… Fine. Out of respect for the little humanoid boy, I'll let you use my workshop just this once.
Ortho/Deuce: THANK YOU VERY MUCH!!
Workshop Owner: That doesn't mean I trust you, Deuce. Don't get me wrong.
Workshop Owner: If you get even one scratch on any of my machines, I won't let you get off so easy!!!
Deuce: I understand.
Workshop Owner: Tch… If word got out that I was letting someone like you in, that'd be bad for my own reputation.
Workshop Owner: You don't need to pay anything. Instead, just do what you came to do and leave as fast as you can.
Workshop Owner: Go and enter the shop from the rear entrance. You know where that is, right? Be quick about it.
[slams door]
Ortho: …Deuce Spade-san, are you alright? Even I can tell just from looking at you that you seem down.
Deuce: Maybe it's more… self-loathing than just being down.
Deuce: I enrolled in Night Raven College and have been aiming to be a model student, and I've been trying really hard with my club activities…
Deuce: I thought I had changed a ton, but that doesn't change my past, y'know?
Ortho: By the past, do you mean what he said about "running around with all those punks, causing ruckuses in the middle of the night and destroying all sorts of things"?
Deuce: Uhhhh… Please forget you heard about that! Also, I'd really like it if you didn't tell anyone else what happened just now.
Deuce: And my mom, too… I don't want to cause her any extra worry.
Ortho: Uh-huh, so it's that sort of thing. I got it. I can keep this a secret from the others.
Ortho: But in exchange, I'll have you help me with crating my new gear.
Deuce: Yeah, of course I will. Leave it to me.
Deuce: …But man, you're amazing, Ortho. I can't believe you persuaded him.
Deuce: You saw how angry he was, right? I totally thought he wouldn't let us use his workshop at all.
Ortho: I calculated that since he was running a blastcycle parts shop, then he'd probably have an interest in machines or robots.
Ortho: That's why I tried to appeal to him as a humanoid, to pique his curiosity.
Deuce: …Now that you mention it, I feel like his whole attitude changed when you mentioned you were a humanoid.
Deuce: …You calculated that, huh. I'm not really good at thinking and planning ahead.
Deuce: Even everything that happened just now is the result of me causing trouble for those around me without thinking things through back in middle school…
Ortho: Deuce Spade-san…
Ortho: You can do your thinking later! Right now, we need to get my gear done as quick as possible and go join the others!
Deuce: You're right, especially since he said to be quick about it… Let's hurry before he changes his mind!
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[Clock Town – Clock Park]
Deuce: I sent [Yuu] a message saying where and when we're meeting up, but… They haven't read it at all.
Ortho: Maybe they haven't had the time to look at their phone, since Grim-san just keeps dragging them everywhichway.
Deuce: Can't be helped, guess we should go look for them. I wouldn't think they'd have gone that far, though...
???: NOM NOM NOM NOM!! Funyaaa~ I can't get enough of that strong flavor.
Ortho: Ah, that's Grim-san's voice. That saves us from having to search the whole park.
Deuce: Yeah, it helps that Grim's really loud.
Deuce: Heeey! [Yuu], Grim!
Grim: Hm? Oh, it's Deuce. Nice of you to come looking for me!
Deuce: Wrong! You're the one who ran off on your own, so we were all doing our own things right now.
Deuce: So, in about an hour, we're all going to meet up at the stall we were at earlier, okay? You better not be late.
1. I want you to show me around.
Deuce: Eh, me? Can I even do that…? But, sure, I guess. We can check out the area together.
2. We should wander around together!
Deuce: With me? …Yeah, okay!
Grim: Whew, that was delish~
Deuce: Looks like Grim just finished eating, too, so let's head off.
Deuce: [Yuu], is there something you want to see or do?
1. I want to look at souvenirs!
Deuce: I think I saw some stalls selling various stuff. Want to go check them out?
2. I want to move around some to help digest my food.
Deuce: I saw a stall a bit ago that had some kind of mini-game set up. Want to try it out?
Ortho: Sounds fun! I want to go with you guys too.
Deuce: Yeah, come along. That'll make it more lively and fun!
Deuce: They've got a ton of shops set up here, so the four of us can see all sorts of stuff!
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[cheering on a street performer]
Grim: Nyahaha, that's so cool! That's way more amazing than Ace's magic tricks!
Deuce: You really like those street performances, huh. It looks like it'll go on for a little bit longer, but… Maybe we should move on now?
Grim: Ehhh, I want to keep watching.
Ortho: I haven't seen many street performances, so I think I'll stay and watch some more too.
Deuce: Okay. Then [Yuu] and I'll head off and check some other places out.
Deuce: We can meet up at where we were earlier when the time comes.
Grim/Ortho: Yeah! / Understood!
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Deuce: Okay, then lets head over there.
Passerby A: Oh my, what cute outfits. Are you two from around here?
Deuce: Ah, yes, I'm from here.
Deuce: I just came home to visit with my classmates for the White Rabbit Festival…
Passerby A: Oh, so you're a Clock Town local. Then, I guess there's no need to warn you.
Deuce: Warn me? Eh, did something happen?
Passerby A: Well, not necessarily something, but… you know?
Passerby B: If you're from this city, then you should know, right? That there's been some bad characters running around.
Passerby A: It must have been what, 3… maybe 4 years ago? Anyway, a while ago, this terrible hooligan showed up.
Deuce: A terrible hooligan?
Passerby B: You never heard of them? Well, you two look like you were raised properly, so I suppose I'm not surprised you don't know.
Passerby B: There's this ill-tempered hooligan with bleach-blonde hair and a scary glare who'd ride up and down the city on their blastcycle at breakneck speeds.
Passerby A: I heard that whenever they got into a fight, they'd summon a cauldron and squash their opponents flat. Aah, so scary!
Deuce: URK!
Passerby B: I haven't heard anything about them recently, but… I can't imagine such a horrible hoodlum would've been able to fix their behavior.
Passerby A: Same. It was so bad that there even was a police officer who would always go on patrol even when off-duty.
Passerby A: Anyway, they are a troublesome delinquent. You two, take care so you don't get caught in their crosshairs.
Deuce: R-Right… Thank you.
Deuce: Whew, they finally left. Those ladies were really something.
1. That story just now… 2. Was that…
Deuce: Urgh, and I was trying to change the topic…
Deuce: Well, whatever. It's just you here, anyway.
Deuce: I think the person those ladies were talking about earlier was me.
Deuce: It's been a while since I enrolled in Night Raven College, but… I'm still being talked about.
Deuce: "I can't imagine they'd be able to fix their behavior" …Hm.
1. Even though we can see that's not true.
Deuce: Are you trying to cheer me up? Thanks, [Yuu].
2. It's hard to gain people's trust.
Deuce: You're right, it's just as you say.
Deuce: …Actually, I was told the same thing just a bit ago when Ortho and I went to the workshop next door to my house.
Deuce: I guess both the people who have met me before and those who haven't don't think that I could ever have fixed myself up.
Deuce: …But I have people outside of my family that believe in me.
Deuce: Remember what those ladies said? There was a police officer who would go on patrol even when they were off-duty.
Deuce: They worked over there… In the police station across the street from the park. And for some reason, they actually looked out for me.
1. Does that person still work at that police station?
Deuce: Nah, they transferred to a different city some time ago. I hear they've climbed the ranks and is some big wig now.
2. Let's go show them how much you've changed!
Deuce: As much as I'd like to… Deuce: They transferred to a different city some time ago. I hear they've climbed the ranks and is some big wig now.
Deuce: Isn't that awesome, though!? I wish I could have said bye to them back when they transferred, but… Back then I was just too hard-headed.
Deuce: I had decided that if I ever got to meet that person again someday, I would show them just how much I had cleaned myself up…
Deuce: But it hasn't really gone as planned.
Deuce: Even today, I wanted you guys to enjoy yourselves in my hometown…
Deuce: But I don't know anything about my city, and can't even show you around properly.
Deuce: And it wasn't until Epel said that I didn't have enough pride in my hometown, that I thought I should study up on the place…
Deuce: I thought I had changed, but maybe I haven't grown up after all.
1. That's not true… 2. (I don't know what to say...)
Deuce: Sorry! I didn't mean to talk about this sort of thing when we're at a festival.
Deuce: It's almost time to meet up with everyone else. Let's head back there.
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[Clock Town – Clock Park]
―After the conflict with the Black Bunnies
Deuce: Okay, then I'll go register us, so everyone wait here.
Ortho/Epel: Got it.
Silver: Right.
Grim: I'll go with you. I worry leaving it to you alone, Deuce.
1. Yeah, I agree. 2. I'll go too.
Deuce: I don't know how I feel about Grim worrying about me, but… Thanks for coming with.
Deila: The registration for the Rabbit Run Race is near the entrance to the park.
Deila: All three of you, take care over there.
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Deuce: There's the entrance to the park. Uhh, let's see, where's registration…?
Grim: Isn't that it?
Deuce: You're right… EH!?
Deuce: There's a line. There's a lot more people doing this than I thought there'd be…
Deuce: Well, whatever. Let's just line up at the very back.
???: WHAT SHOULD WE DO? AT THIS RATE, WE CAN'T REGISTER FOR THE RACE!
Grim: What's goin' on?
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Workshop Employee: I thought I put it in my bag, but… My rabbit ears, where could I have left them?
Workshop Owner: Rabbit ears? Oh… Do you mean the headband that was left on the 3D printer back at the workshop?
Workshop Owner: Even if we were to run back to the shop now, we won't make it back in time to register...
Workshop Owner: It's a shame, but I guess we have to give up on participating in the race this year.
Deuce: On a 3D printer in the workshop… Ah, maybe it's the one I saw when Ortho and I were working on the printer just a while ago?
Deuce: Maybe… Maybe I can help her out with magic.
Deuce: I never got to thank him for using the workshop, either… I guess I can go talk to them.
Deuce: Ah, excuse me.
Workshop Employee: Yes? …Eek, Deuce-kun!?
Workshop Owner: Now what do you want? What, are you trying to harm my employee or something?
Deuce: No, not at all! I overheard that she left her headband, and…
Deuce: I'll summon it for you with magic! That way, you can register for the race, right?
Workshop Owner: You'll summon it with magic? Can someone like you who only has the brains to cause havoc really do something like that?
Deuce: I'm not that confident, but I think I can at least summon… But I still mess that up sometimes, too… But I'm going to try!
Grim: …I don't know how good this’ll go.
Deuce: Sh-Shut it! I have to focus, so be quiet.
Deuce: [inhale, exhale] …
Deuce: COME FORTH, RABBIT EAR HEADBAND!!
[rabbit ear headband magically appears]
Deuce: It's the same design as the one I saw in the workshop earlier. That means…
1. Congrats! 2. You did it!
Deuce: Yeah! I'm so glad it worked out.
Deuce: This is your headband, right? Please accept it.
Workshop Employee: …
Grim: This lady's completely frozen in her tracks… Maybe she's terrified of you!!
Deuce: Eh!? Oh no, is it because I just suddenly called out to you? Sorry, I shouldn't have done that…
Workshop Owner: I can't believe that that Deuce just successfully summoned something, and even took care to think of my employee's feelings…
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[FLASHBACK]
Deila: Hey, listen to this! Deuce has been really motivated ever since enrolling in Night Raven College.
Deila: Just the other day, he sent me a picture of a certificate that he won as an award at a track meet.
Deila: It… does look like he's having a bit of a hard time with his studies and magic, though. But he's doing is best in the only way he knows how.
Deila: And recently, he's been really considerate, saying stuff like, "Aren't you tired?" and "Don't push yourself too hard"…
Deila: Sounds like he's made some good friends, too. I'm truly happy that he's enjoying himself every single day over there.
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Workshop Owner: …Looks like Deila-san was telling the truth.
Deuce: Eh? Did my mom say something?
Workshop Owner: Yeah. She said that you had a change of heart and are doing your best now.
Deuce: My mom said that…?
Workshop Owner: Honestly, I couldn't believe that you actually cleaned yourself up, no matter what Deila-san said…
Workshop Owner: You've convinced me, Deuce. Thanks to you, my coworkers and I can enter the race.
Deuce: Since I couldn't thank you earlier for letting us use your workshop… I'm glad that I was able to be of help here.
Workshop Owner: Oh, don't worry, there's still a lot that you need to pay me back for.
Workshop Owner: But for today, you did good. Hey now, you thank him, too!
Workshop Employee: …Thank you for helping me. And, sorry for being scared of you!
Deuce: And I'm sorry for suddenly calling out to you and scaring you, too.
Workshop Owner: You're going to join the race too, right? Let's all do our best!
Deuce: YES, SIR!
Deuce: I "convinced" him… Huh.
1. You did it! 2. That's great.
Deuce: Yeah. I was worried that I hadn't matured at all, but… Thanks to that, I'm feeling a bit better.
Deuce: To be perfectly honest, I planned on just coming back here by myself.
Deuce: After swinging by to see my mom and the festival real quick, I was just going to jump on my blastcycle and go for a ride.
Deuce: If you, Grim or the others hadn't come with, I don't think I would have had a chance to talk with people in town.
Deuce: So… Uh, yeah, thanks for coming here with me!
Grim: Heheh, least I could do.
Deuce: For everyone who came here with me... And also for my mom, there's no way that I can lose this race.
Deuce: We'll definitely win! [Yuu], watch me go!
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Requested by Anonymous.
305 notes · View notes
moonstruckme · 2 months
Note
Dude I just get my hearing aid after have trouble hearing for some months
Could I request one for any character you like with a reader with hearing problem? When it happens they already in relationship so it a big change for both of them?
Cos not everyone in my family take it kindly... So it might happen in relationship too right?
I'm sorry you had to wait so long lovely! I don't have much experience with hearing impairments, so I apologize if anything is inaccurate—please feel free to let me know! And thank you for requesting <3
cw: frustrations around not hearing well, difficulties aquiring healthcare
Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 1k words
You’re dicing onions, blinking hard against the fumes and trying to make as quick work of it as you can, when something touches your lower back. You gasp and jolt, knife slipping down the curvature of the onion and scaring you badly enough that you drop it as you spin around. 
Steve looks just as startled as you do, staring at you with wide eyes. Lately, you’ve had trouble catching everything people say when they talk, but that’s not an issue now because he’s immediately yelling. 
“Jesus—shit!” He drops into a squat, picking up the knife you hadn’t realized had clattered to your feet. Your heart’s still going a mile a minute, his panic fueling your own. “What the hell was that?” 
You press your fingers to your temples, mindless of the vegetable juice stickying your hairline. “Oh my god,” you pant, “you scared me!” 
You see it click in Steve’s face. “You couldn’t—I said hi when I came in.” He shakes his head, agitated. “You hummed back!” 
“I didn’t.” 
“You did!”
“I must have been humming about something else!” A belated, frightened tear leaks from your eye, and you take a harsh breath, trying to slow the adrenaline racing through your bloodstream. “I didn’t hear you.” 
The appearance of tears reverses your boyfriend’s demeanor in an instant. “Hey,” he says, now soft enough that you see his lips form the word more than hear it. He sets the knife on the counter, gripping your upper arms. “Okay, I’m sorry. Don’t cry.” 
“It’s the onions,” you huff, though you’re not sure that’s strictly true. 
He makes a sound that might be a word and pulls you into his chest. You fist your hands in the material of his sweatshirt, still a little bit furious at him. Or maybe at everyone. Everything. 
Steve says something else, and you sigh. 
“Can’t hear you.” 
Usually he’s better about this, but you still get sick of saying it. It feels like he’s making you remind him, forcing you to admit you can’t get on just the same as everybody else, though of course you know he’d never do that. Steve’s a good guy down to his bones. You’re just mad, lately. 
“I’m sorry I scared you,” he says at an audible volume. “I thought you could hear the door, and then when you seemed like you responded to me saying hi…I just thought I was good.” 
“It’s fine.” 
You’re shaking just slightly, the adrenaline working its way out of your system, and when Steve notices he tightens his grip on you as if he can contain your panic. 
“I almost made you cut your own finger off,” he says. 
“Well, I didn’t.” 
“Still.” He presses a kiss into your hair. “How long until you can get a hearing aid again?” 
Irritation prickles down your spine. “I don’t know. I’m still working it out with the insurance company.” 
Steve must hear the darkness seeping into your tone, because he gives your upper back a solid rub. “Let me know if there’s any way I can help.” 
You have to clamp your jaw shut, the temptation to be cruel sharp and cutting in your mouth. You could help by remembering to speak up, you want to say. It doesn’t seem like you’re asking that much of him. You can understand when other people forget, but Steve lives with you. It’s not so hard to raise his voice a little when he wants you to understand what he’s saying. Half the time, you can’t even hear yourself when you speak because you’re trying to be considerate of him and talk at a normal volume. When he doesn’t do the same for you, it makes you feel like you’re in this alone. 
Still, you know these thoughts don’t have so much to do with a deficiency in your boyfriend as your upset over your own change in circumstance. All of a sudden, the way you experience the entire world has shifted. You hate asking Steve to accommodate you, and you wish that you didn’t have to ask, but it’s nobody’s fault that you’re both still adjusting. In the time between now and when you eventually get a hearing aid, you’re just going to have to get used to this feeling that you’re a world apart from him. It’s not his fault he can’t be in it with you. 
Steve pulls away from the hug but keeps his hands on your arms, and he’s looking at you oddly. Considering. For all the shit you give him about not understanding when you need help, he really can surprise you with his intuition sometimes. Maybe he just knows you that well. 
You’re about to ask What? and hope your voice doesn’t come out as pissy as you feel when he says, in a tone somehow both loud and gentle, “Maybe I could get you a walkie talkie.” 
You blink. “Huh?” 
“Dustin just got these ones that light up when someone’s talking to you,” he explains. He lets you go, leaning back with his elbows on the counter opposite you and a pensive furrow between his brows. “So what if instead of trying to guess what you can hear, I just call you on that when I’m about to come inside? That way even if you don’t hear it you’ll see the light.” 
“That…could work.” You hesitate. “So I’d just carry it everywhere with me so I see if it lights up?” 
Steve winces. “I guess it doesn’t sound as easy as I’d thought.” 
“No, let’s try it,” you say, encouragingly as you can and nodding for good measure. “It might help.” 
“Yeah?” he asks hopefully. 
“Mhm.” You nod again. “Thanks, Stevie. I know I…I know this is really inconvenient. Thanks for trying so hard.” 
“Hey, it’s not. It’s nothing.” His voice drops until you can barely make it out, and when you look up at him Steve’s expression is softly fond. He makes sure you can hear when he asks, “You want another hug, honey?”
There’s that intuition again. You nod, stepping into his arms where he waits by the counter and wrapping yours tightly around his waist. 
“Thank you,” you say again, the material of his sweatshirt heating with your breath. 
Steve presses his cheek to your head. “Don’t mention it.” 
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itsclydebitches · 2 months
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IT'S BEEN A DOOZY OF A DAY, FOLKS
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Yeah I've got a couple asks about it lol. (Always a terrifying experience when you log onto tumblr and immediately wonder why your inbox blew up...)
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Man, I don't even know how I'm feeling right now. We've spent so many months working on the semi-confident assumption that RWBY would be cancelled that on the one hand I can't feel very shocked about this. On the other hand there's definitely a wide-eyed part of my brain going, "Holy shit the 'RT is failing' theories finally came true O_O" I'm kinda devastated that a company that's been a part of my life for almost a decade (and for other fans far longer) is just up and gone, but simultaneously I don't care because what I loved about RT hasn't existed for some time now. We've already been dealing with that nostlgia for years, we just got a hell of a concentrated dose of it today. There's admittedly some level of vindication regarding those who've been pulling shit in the company for so long and empathy for those who were just getting by and are now suddenly out of a job. There's regret that (despite my tendency to fall VERY behind on projects. RIP I owe everyone in this fandom a massive apology) I'll probably never have an official end to my RWBY Recaps. And there's worry about how this will impact the fandom...
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Yeah, not to jump on the pessimism train, but I feel like this is going to catapult some fans' misreadings into new territory. RWBY is now forever the show that was canonically unfinished and thus its perfection is assured. Think there are major issues in Volume 9 and earlier? Nah, that's setup for Volumes we just never got. Catch a contradition or other mistake? They would have explained that if they could. Any possible issues with the show if it gets picked up by someone else? Well, of course there are issues, RT isn't writing it! This was already a fandom where having accurate, nuanced discussions about the text was hard as hell... but it just got so much worse.
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Honestly, I say let it go. If they're going to do anything I'd prefer a complete reboot/reworking so that this story might stand a chance. Airing new RWBY Volumes was already beating a dead horse. Resurrecting the horse to start beating it anew just feels ridiculous. Yes, I'm sad for those fans who wanted an official ending, but we've spent so much time waiting on RWBY, being worried about RWBY's future, and I personally have encounted so many shows lately whose finales soured my enjoyment that there's something reassuring in the combination of definitive ambuguity here: you know you're not getting an ending by RT, so just have fun imagining your own.
Overall, I feel like I've got to sit with this for a while, you know? I totally get why so many fans (partiuclarly RWDE fans) are celebrating and/or releasing a sigh of relief right now. I'm honestly surprised I haven't seen any crabs yet lol. But maybe it's just because I'm "old" my tumblr's standards, but there's something undeniably sad about losing that part of your fandom life. Or at least, losing what led to/represents that life. Getting introduced to RWBY by a friend, binging it for the first time, pulling new people in, finding like-minded friends here on tumblr, analyzing it for thousands of words, tracing its history and watching how radically it has changed... that's gone now. Not actually because RWBY still exists, as do my friends, and there's nothing stopping me from writing as much fic/meta as I want, but it still feels like someone closed a door on that part of my life. That's not wholly a bad thing given what RT has been lately, but I do think it'll take more than one post for me to unpack it all.
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