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#so yeah I played through true colors
chisungie · 7 months
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stsgooo · 5 months
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Look at Him.
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✩࿐ summary: your attempts at reentering the dating scene is foiled by your ex-husband.
warning(s): past relationship, clingy!gojo, ex-husband!gojo, co-parenting situation, crack fic. wc; 1.6k
pairing(s): gojo satoru x fem!reader
a/n: this is purely just a goof fic because i've put nothing but angst out there so far sooo have a laugh. hope yall enjoy :3
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“So, what do you do for a living?”
"A teacher."
"Oh, wow! What grade, subject?"
"Uh, highschoolers and the subject kinda varies on the day."
"Like a substitute teacher?"
"Um....sure, yeah! Substitute teacher."
"That's awesome. Mad respect, kids can be demons."
You were quickly discovering that the dating field had changed in the five years that you had been married. An endless back and forth about what someone did, what's their favorite color, what's their hobbies. Boring questions that you would ask your students on the first day was used in over the table date conversation. Until, until, they got to that question they so desperately wanted to ask.
Would you want to take this back to my—
There was a vibration against your thigh as your date started to go onto a monologue about how much he disliked kids. In all honesty, you couldn't really remember his name. The introductions had been awkward and a little nerve wracking— you were almost sure he had no idea who you were either.
You tugged your phone out of your pocket and resisted the audible sigh that threatened to leave you when you saw the notification.
Satoru please tell me why my beautiful, radiant, amazing, intelligent daughter just said her mommy is on a date. feeling sick to my stomach, don't tell me this is true.
You rolled your eyes. Your ex-husband had always been so overdramatic. His main focus was always on the bit that could come from a situation. However, this was a quality you do used to admire about him. His ability to make any situation seem like it was a funny happenstance that you'd never encounter again.
Now, it was nothing more than a nuisance.
Satoru oh my god, you left me on read. it's true. it's true. i hope you know i just threw up. i threw up everywhere. i might die. at least, tell me he's ugly. please god let him to be ugly.
A sigh, you typed out the quickest message you could without your date asking what's wrong.
You I hope you're not ignoring said daughter to ask me about some date. I'll be home later, please refrain from texting me.
You were about to set your phone down when another text came through. This one appeared to more distraught than the last.
Satoru o h your tone. it's over. it's really over. i might just kill myself this is the worst night of my life. y/n, i'm genuinely feeling sick. please, is he ugly? he must be boring because you're texting back.
You were almost inclined to remind Satoru you both had been divorced for a year already. That this was bound to happen and you two had, in fact, spoken about it months into the divorce. You had played with some 'what if's and there was a mutual agreement that the other wouldn't get jealous and be dramatic about the other getting in a relationship whenever the time comes. It was a surprisingly adult conversation.
You should've known better when Satoru proudly proclaimed he didn't care who you got involved with.
You Satoru, we talked about this. We're adults and we're divorced. Please bother someone else, like Suguru.
Satoru i don't wanna talk to suguru. i wanna talk to youuu (;﹏;) i can't believe you've done this. ten years. ten years of loyalty. im sick to my stomach.
You You asked for the divorce.
"Is everything okay?"
You eyes snapped up from your phone and towards your date. He had the good grace to be wearing a relatively concerned expression, eyeing you wearily.
You quickly tucked your phone back into your pocket, ignoring the insistent vibrations it gave to smile apologetically. "I'm sorry, my daughter had an accident and I had to, you know, send a quick text to her babysitter." It was easier to explain away a daughter than it was a clingy ex-husband who was well in his dissent into insanity. Really, you were doing this guy a favor keeping him in the dark.
However, his face still paled and he straightened. "You have a kidI'm so, so sorry. I just went on a two minute rant about how much kids are equivalent to demons." He seemed to spiral as he pressed his hands against his face, uttering curses to himself. "I get so nervous with these dates. I truly meant nothing by it."
You smiled in amusement, "It's no problem, really. I'm not exactly disagreeing." He peeked from between his fingers and blinked at you dumbly. "Just because I'm a parent doesn't mean I don't agree. I mean, my kid can be a bit much sometimes. I love her, but she's a lot like her dad in that way."
It always made your chest blossom. The way Saori was a carbon copy of Satoru. From the rambunctious personality, to the piercing blue eyes, and white hair. Your genes hadn't won in the battle, but you were almost grateful. Satoru tried to tell you that she had your smile and your wit, but you weren't entirely convinced. She was Satoru and Satoru was her.
You were extremely lucky that he was a good dad.
"Oh? Do you mind me asking if her dad's still around?" His tone was indication enough: a daughter and an ex of some kind was pushing it for him.
You tensed up, feeling deep regret already. "Uh, yeah." His eyes shifted away and you reached forward, taking his hand. "But, he's not, like, crazy or anything! He's just a good dad."
Your date chuckled nervously. "I-I just don't want to get involved in some, um, some family dynamic."
You thought it was a little presumptuous of him to think this would go that far, or he'd get in the way. But you were too focused on defusing the situation.
"Oh, no, it's not like that! We've got a healthy balance, y'know? He does his piece, I do mine— that's it!"
He scrunched his face. "So... an open relationship?"
"No!" You press your hands against your face with a huff. "No, we're not together anymore. We just co-parent."
He opened his mouth to further question you when your phone vibrated very audibly. His eyebrows raising. "Your daughter?"
You sighed. "Please give me one moment."
With jerky movements, you pull your phone from your pocket. The assortment of messages that came where spread over the ten minutes you decided to ignore him.
Satoru okay, you've got me there. but my big heart is breaking. i hope he's ugly and he smells. okay, i spoke with suguru and he said i'm an idiot who should apologize. in my defense, i'm a little itty bitty drunk. and no, saori is not awake. papa put her to bed before bringing out the whiskey. im so sorry my beautiful deity. that not ugly, not smelly man is so lucky to be in your presence and i hope you have a good date. also i hope he gets hit my a car. (^▽^)
You I'm going to kill you with my bare hands. Genuinely, count your days, Gojo Satoru.
Satoru hot, hot, hot!!! (●´□`)♡ did he actually get hit by a car?
You Is there something you want?
Satoru him dead. and you home :((((
You You don't want me home. I swear to god, if you're on my couch, drinking when I get home, I will ruin your life.
Satoru promise??? ╰(✿´⌣`✿)╯♡ but, actually, i wanted to ask your opinion on something
You For real?
Satoru for realsies. [Image Attachment]
Completely blinded by your irritation, you don't even hesitate to open the picture as it loads. Although you regret it the moment it does.
It's a picture of Satoru. He's at what seems to be the beach (must've been the fun activity him and Saori were going to join Suguru for), his sunglasses were on the top of his head, and he was grinning at the picture. One hand was resting against his pectoral and the veins in his hand was prominent. An obvious attempt at being charming and flirtatious. It was working too.
If it weren't for the fact that you knew him and were his ex, you might've just swooned.
"Oh, my god, is that him?" Your date was staring at your phone with wide eyes. His face even more pale than before. He started to shake his head as he stood, snatching his jacket from the back of his chair. "No way. I am not getting involved! I'm sorry, you're a nice woman, but I know when I'm not winning. And I'm definitely not winning against that."
Your eyes widened considerably, "What? No! Please don't leave. He's an idiot, I swear there's nothing—"
"He is... a hunk. I am not. In no shape or form am I at all comparable to that. Look—" He reached forward, grabbing your phone and holding the picture up to be beside his face. "Look at the difference! Model who has won Japan's hottest man at least eight times before he's 30 to me— Look at him!"
"It's not even like that!" You snatched your phone back and stared at him in frustration. "He's my ex, I do not want him!"
He waved his hands in front of your face. "I know how this will go. You think you like me and then your super hot and super sexy ex-whatever makes you realize the familiarity is good. Then I get dumped." He straightened, latching his hands onto the lapels of his jacket. "I just realized I am a side character. In my own life. Goddammit."
He barely glanced at you as he paid for the dinner, then left as quickly as he could. Still, you didn't even know his name.
Satoru oooo taking you awhile to respondddd still in love with me? (人◕ω◕)
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forlix · 7 months
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𝘀𝘂𝗯𝘁𝗲𝘅𝘁・l.f.
— in which you forget that your hot housemate follows you on twitter.
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𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・1.1k 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・roommate!felix x gn!streamer!reader 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲𝘀・fluff, flirting, kind of an smau, implied friends to lovers, humor if u count jeongin being a piece of shit
𝗮/𝗻・saw this tweet the other day and it was so painfully lix coded that i knew i had to write something asap. contains a tiny bit of gaming jargon but is hopefully comprehensible. ENJOY ♡
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y/n ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ @ y/nxx
if someone brings you fresh cut fruit to your table when you're gaming, they either like LIKE you or it's your mom
11:23 A.M.・Oct. 2023・220.2K Views
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bokkie 🐣 liked your post.
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“My tweet?”
You read aloud the newest text in your chatroom, and your face brightens when you remember the one in question.
“Oh, about the fruit—no, it’s so true though. And I love my mom, don't get me wrong, but I have an inkling she did it to guilt trip me." You change your posture and adopt your best motherly tone of voice. "‘This is your tenth consecutive hour wasting your young adulthood in front of that damn screen. I am now going to hand deliver apple slices straight to your mouth.’ That kind of vibe, y'know?"
A slew of messages follows your anecdote, but it is a comment from one of your moderators that catches your eye first:
je0ng1n: what about the other option tho 👀
You groan at the sight of his username. “Man, why are you always here? Don't you have a job?"
je0ng1n: i’m on break je0ng1n: taking a dump je0ng1n: ungrateful bitch
You brandish a middle finger to the camera. “Hope the dump sucks."
je0ng1n: HEY je0ng1n: don’t even joke about that :(
An involuntary cackle precedes your next words. “If you’re actually wondering, though, the only person who’s brought me fruit while I’m playing video games is indeed my mother. Heartbreaking, I know.”
At this, the steady flow of messages morphs into a gallery of depressed cat emoticons; your audience never fails to impress you with their way with words.
“But if someone other than your disappointed parent is bringing you fruit,” you go on, “they might as well get on one knee in the process, honestly. That's such an adorable, loving thing to do.”
Suddenly, the words MATCH FOUND splash across your monitor, and you move your cursor to accept the game invite—only to be met with a pop-up window and a familiar error sound that grates on your ears like screeching tires.
You know how this story ends: the lights in your mouse go dark, and you look on in dejected silence.
je0ng1n: LMFAOOOOO je0ng1n: bro’s mouse definitely just exploded again
“You guessed it," you sigh. “Hang tight for a sec, guys."
Half an hour ago, you could’ve sworn you heard sneakers being kicked off, a set of keys falling against plastic. Now, you pull one side of your headphones off and roll your chair a few feet backward, calling through your half-open door: “Lix, are you home?”
You pick up on a soft clunk that sounds like metal hitting wood—the cutting board, maybe?—and then your housemate's low, accented answer bounces off the walls of your shared hallway.
“Yeah, you alright?”
“The mouse,” you say helplessly.
“Ah.” It’s not the first time you’ve summoned him for this. “Be right there.”
A few seconds later, you remember to tack on a hurried disclaimer: “I’m live, by the way!”
“I know.”
This brings a bashful smile to your face, though the expression quickly turns to one of pure dismay when you return to your desk and witness the disastrous state of your chat.
Felix has become a regular guest on your stream by now, always popping in to show you a TikTok or ask for your opinion on a new pair of jeans or simply give your camera an awkward wave—but he may as well own your channel with how completely and unequivocally he has captured the hearts of your viewers. They’re convinced he’s the sexiest person to ever grace the earth, with his chiseled features and coffee-colored eyes; with a grin that could set entire estates on fire and a voice that could scrape the nadir of the Grand Canyon.
Do you agree? Absolutely.
Do you have any intention of voicing this sentiment, so long as you’re splitting rent with him? Absolutely the hell not.
Another of Jeongin’s messages—GET ME HIS NUMBER OR I GET VIOLENT—inspires you to minimize the stream window before Felix gets here. It’s for the best.
A few moments later, the door opens, and the air shifts inside your room. A hand comes to rest on the top of your head; a familiar silhouette appears in your periphery. There is a fond grin plastered across your face and a bright greeting sitting readily on the tip of your tongue.
But then, Felix places a plate of freshly cut fruit in the empty space to the left of your keyboard—here, he hums, the sound falling against the shell of your ear like a drop of melted chocolate. And the gears of your brain grind to a complete stop.
There is no further acknowledgment; no supplementary explanation for what he's just done. He simply picks up your mouse and gets to work.
The words of your tweet swim dizzyingly before your eyes, not unlike those halos of stars and birds that revolve around disoriented cartoon characters. And you’re suddenly, achingly aware of your roommate's arm nudging against yours as he tinkers away; of the aromas of vanilla and laundry detergent that always come with his proximity; of the heat that’s risen to your face, and the plethora of questions that have surfaced to your mind.
A soft huff of laughter follows a gentle utterance of your name, and you snap out of your trance. Felix’s eyes are glinting with amusement when you meet them.
“It’s been recalibrated,” he says, handing back your mouse. “Just give it a few minutes.”
Your fingertips brush over his palm when you accept the object, and even this blink of contact has your heart performing an elaborate hopscotch routine across the plane of your chest.
It’s either your mom, or…
“Thank you,” you mumble, finally retrieving your larynx from the bottom of the Atlantic.
“Anytime,” Felix returns, and you know he means it. “You need a duo, by the way?"
“Yes, please.”
He gives you a warm smile at this, and there’s a hint of something else—something new—in the curve of his lips. “Give me two.” And he’s gone as quickly as he'd come.
You will never know how Felix slips his phone out of his pocket the second he emerges from your room, his pulse hounding his ears as he turns a nervous gaze upon his screen.
There is now a supersonic blur of messages saturating your chatroom, a colorful cacophony of moving emotes and capital letters, but he is focused wholly on the person in front of the camera and how you slowly lift a hand to your mouth, deathly silent despite your every viewer demanding your comment on the matter, your sanguine cheeks visible even through the gaps of your fingers.
That is all he needs to know.
Felix sinks into the leather of his gaming chair and bends to power on his computer. Only after a deep breath blows past his lips does his smile start to stretch into a grin, every bit as embarrassed as it is relieved.
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je0ng1n: no way je0ng1n: no fucking way je0ng1n: my heart fluttered je0ng1n: wtf je0ng1n: how’d you pull HIM??
y/nxx has removed je0ng1n as a moderator of this channel.
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𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other works here. thanks so much for the support ♡
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© 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘅 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.
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4giorno · 1 year
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YEAAAAH girlboss ibara is finally mine 😭💖
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shocymer · 2 months
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Want me to teach you?
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"Starting off as journalism clubs buddies, you never know how your relationship will take turns after he offered to give you a lesson."
Pairing : Yunho x f!reader
Word counts : 2.3k
Contents & warnings : smut mdni! , college AU, gamer yunho, oral (receiving), size kink, big dick! yunho, slightly pussy edging, overstimulation, semi public sex, unprotected sex, creampie.
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“There’s something between you and her. I mean like you’re in relationship or..?” Wooyoung asked him carefully.
Yunho’s eyes goes widen. He never thought of dating you in the first place. After breaking up with his longtime ex lover, he completely avoided the topic of romance. He’d been dating his ex since high school. But at the certain time they’re in college, she became a campus crush and immediately dumped him.
He let out a soft chuckle in response, “How could that be?”
“Isn’t it obvious? The atmosphere.. ehhm kinda heavy around you two.” Seonghwa suddenly chimed in while his finger moved in circle towards Yunho.
He raised his eyebrow, a thin smile form his lips after ridiculed by them.
“Nah we’re not. We’re just friends, that’s all.”
To be honest, he wasn't that surprise when they asked about it. It all started from two months before. You accidentally took a glance on Yunho’s phone. He’s immersed in Detroit: Become Human walkthrough video while waiting for other faculty journalism club’s member to come.
Then you happened to be walking behind him before taking a seat. “Oh you’re into that game too?”
“I want to give it a try.” He turn at you for a moment before his eyes glued back to the screen. “But I still figure it out whether this one worth it or not.”
You crossed your arms then slightly lean towards him in attempt to get a better view of the video. “Hmm.. It’s a shame if you know most of the plot through this. Like I want you to experience the true ending by your own choices.”
“Wait, you ever played this?” Surprised that you’re into gaming stuff.
“I did, but on PC. I don’t know if there’s any differences if you play it on your console.” You lean away from him.
Now, he’s more interested in you and leaving the video played alone in the background. Distracted by your little fingers fidgeting on the back of your phone unconsciously, as both of you deep in talk. He’s wondering why is it so small and weirdly cute. Then he glanced back to you.
“So you’re not used to play with the controller right?”
You nod at him, “yeah, last time I try it when I was in 7th grade or something. The grip was uncomfortable. Right after that, I decided PC is much more easier.” You paused for a second, “but sometimes I would love to try it again.”
He chuckled seems to know the reasons why. Proceed to clear his throat before he answered you back, “Want me to teach you?”
Deep sighed left from your mouth, “I’m pretty sure you’ll be mad at me the second we’re in.”
“No no, definitely not. I got patience as deep as the ocean. You sure know that.”
You rolled your eyes. “Right, definitely a saint in your past life.”
He laughed at your remark and how annoyed you’re right now. You smacked his arm, telling him to stop. Not to long, both of you getting ready for the club’s meeting as everyone already gathered in.
You thought he’d be joking. He never brought that idea again after the last conversation with you. He occasionally texted you only about the club’s activity or college stuff. Until a week after, he slide a brand new box of controller towards you.
“Better started now or never.” He slightly tilted his head, pointing to where the box landed.
“Yunho, you don’t need to buy me this. I- like just tell me when you’re-”
“Shhh.. save that nagging for later.” His delicate hand started to unbox it with care. Then he handed it to you.
It’s mostly dominated with white and soft blue colors on the side. Plus the kitty paw shaped the thumb grip, make it seems like a customized controller. You reach it in fascination. That’s super cute. Both of you think the same way, but completely on different matters.
Yunho kept looking at your fingers which is nicely wrapped the controller. His eyes following the direction of your little thumbs that moving uncoordinatedly, mimicking the way you’re gonna use it in game. Then, his gaze turn to your lips, looking at how cute and plump it is.
He shook his head, after that he explained to you about it’s feature, how to turn it on and how to charge it. You listen to him just like in one of your lectures. Remembering everything that he told you while nodding at the same time.
“Thanks Yunho, that’s so cute.” You looked at him in guilty. “I bet this was expensive right?”
“Well, actually not that much. I just want you to use it more if it looks like that.” He flicked your forehead. “This is my own wish. Don’t ever feel bad about it, okay?”
After that day, you spent almost every weekend playing co-op game with him. He patiently guided you from the voice chat. Dealing with how forgetful you are and a lot of complaints about your sore fingers. With that antics of yours, he only let out small chuckle or teasing you even more.
On the weekday, sometimes you met him in the club’s room. Mostly during the meeting or when you do the project. The moment you asked him to check your works, he’ll lean over from your behind and randomly put his hand on top of yours while the other hand is scrolling the mouse. There’s also a moment he covered the shelf corner with his hand when your head nearly bump it or he’ll immediately fetched the things you needed where it’s difficult for you to reach.
You never realize that, but not with your other two friends. Seonghwa and Wooyoung, they keep exchange glances across the room whenever Yunho and you act like a new pair of lovers. They’re a hundred percent sure sensing something more than platonic relationship, when the actual truth is not. There’s nothing between you two, yet.
⁠✧
It's 3 days before the exam period. The faculty journalism club already in chaos for past few weeks. They’re divided into two teams. First team is responsible with the faculty website news update, and here you are in the second team handling the semester end magazine. Your leader pushed the deadline earlier hoping the only left to do is printed it out at the end of exam day.
Your tired ass have been proofreading for solid three hours non-stop. Flipping through the revision sheet and going back to the laptop. Luckily you don’t have any class today. All of you agreed to finished it today. But alas, there’s only four of you left, and making it worse the other two need to leave too.
“Shit, I forgot to consult my thesis. I’ll be back at evening!” Seonghwa barging out in hurry. No wonder he’s literally your senior a year above you.
Not to long, Wooyoung following around as he got notification with a sudden class at noon. He’s cursing along the way. Of course all of you haunted with the leader’s wrath, considering how strict he is. You still remembered the looks on his face when the last project failed.
There’s only Yunho and you left alone. Silence along the typing sounds are the only sound that filled the room. At this exact time, most of the clubs room are empty. Either everyone still in the class or diving in the library preparing for the exam.
The work flow with him lasted for more than an hour. He’s occasionally sipping his iced coffee while working on it. He took the editing part, after that passed it on to you. But this time, his hand slipped, nudging the cup of his coffee. He could save it, but not with your pile of revision papers. It scattered all over the floor.
“Oh fuck, I’m sorry.” He immediately crouched down as you do the same to collect the papers.
While collecting it in a rush, your fingertips brushing the back of his hand. Your face only a few inches from his side, making him shiver from the feeling of your warm breath against his skin. Then he turn to face you, staring deep into your eyes. Your heartbeat increase rapidly as he turning his hand to hold yours. His gaze shifted from your eyes to your small plumped lips.
When the tip of your noses touched, you couldn’t stand it anymore. You crushed his lips, kissing him hungrily. He pulled you in, till his back hit against the wall only to bring you on top of his lap while the kiss still not broken. He peeled off his denim jacket as the temperature keep raising between you two.
Gasping for some air, you pull out from the kiss. His index finger caress your cheek trailing down to you lips. You open your mouth to let it in wrestling around with your tongue. He let out small groaned at the sight of it. “I always curious how it taste like.” He lean in to you, whispering into your ears, “and that’s incredibly sweet.”
He picked you without a warning, gives you a quick kiss before plopping you down to the couch, then closed the curtains in swift motion.
Now he’s back to you, nibbling the nape of your neck, sucking on it, sometimes sunk his teeth beneath your skin. You’re squirming under him, gripping onto his hair as the sensation wash over you. He looked up to you, searching for your permission to go lower.
You nodded at him. He’s devouring your lips again while his hand pushed up your tight knee-length skirt, revealing wet trace over your panties. His fingers caress your clothed clit, moved in circular motion. You moaned between the kisses, you can feel he’s smirking on top of your lips.
He moved the panties to the side, then dip his finger into your folds. He chuckled, “you’re already this wet hmm?” Then he’s slipping in another finger, makes you gasped at how full it is inside. At first, his fingers moved back and forth slowly, but over time it’s moving faster making squelched noises due to how wet your pussy is.
He's amused by looking at the face you make right now, moaning out his name when you almost at the edge. He’s stopped in the middle of it, pulled out his fingers. “It’s not enough if it just like that.” He's immediately going down to yank out your panties, then sticking his third fingers into you, moving abruptly while his tongue flicking your clit, sucking on it hungrily. You grip onto his hair tighter, only strangle moan left out from your mouth before his another hand tried to cover it. You buckled your hip as you reaching out the orgasm, biting the palm of his hand trying to stifle your moan. He flicked his tongue few times makes your body spasm due to overstimulation. When you chasing down from it, he licked clean your pussy, then going back to kiss you, giving the taste of yours.
He take a step back, unbuttoning his jeans then pulled down the zipper, letting his cock sprung out from his brief. You took a peek on it with your half lidded eyes, still recovering from the last orgasm. It looks swollen, the unbelievable girth with it’s veins pop visibly, and the tip is glistening with the pre cum. He's stroking it for few times before lining it on your entrance. The tip is slowly in, you can feel the pain as it bigger than your thought.
He's leaning down to you, holding your hands, then trailing kisses on your neck hoping you to relaxes. “I’m sorry is it hurting that much?” He’s stroking your hair while looking into your eyes. “Not.. that much.” You answered him in teary eyes. He kisses your forehead then to your eyes. “It’s a still little bit more baby, can you take it?” You nodding at him. When it’s all in, he let it still for a moment so you get used to it. Then he start moving slowly while his hand unbuttoned your shirt, cupping your breast and slightly fondle it.
He thrusting it faster after he hear you moan in pleasure. His hand grip your waist, while the other hand busy teasing your clit. Your pussy tightened at every deep thrust, making him groaned at the feels. His hips moved erratically after pressing his hand on your stomach, feeling the bulge whenever his cock in you completely. Your nails digging in his clothed back as you feel the knot in your stomach. You squirted over him, making a mess on his shirt. He didn’t stop while your walls clenching on his cock, “you felt so good baby.” After few thrusts he filled your cunt, milking his balls empty. He pulled it out, then plopping himself beside you. Both of you breathing heavily while staring at each other. After realizing it, both of you laughing at how messy you’re right now.
⁠✧
“I’m baaack!” Wooyoung slammed the door open, his eyes goes widen at the sight of you two.
“Aren’t you guys tired? You didn’t move an inches since I left.” He saw you typing furiously on your laptop, meanwhile Yunho sorting out the papers beside you.
Yunho turned to him, “actually I need some snacks.” He gets up from his chair, then put his arms around Wooyoung’s shoulder.
Before they go, Wooyoung looked at you. “You don’t need anything? Or maybe you need some fresh air, you can go with Yunho instead. I’ll continue the rest.”
“I’m fine.” You paused for a second, “uhm.. well, maybe I want a smoothie.”
“Okay got it!” he gives an okay sign to you, then dragged Yunho along out of the club room. Yunho stopped his step, “wait I think I left something.” He ran back to the clubs room.
When he got there, he whispered something to you, “After this, do you still want me to teach you? My lesson isn’t done yet.” You flinched at his sudden peck on your lips. He smiled cheekily while leaving you speechless alone, squirming on your seat as you feel his juice spilled down over your thigh.
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deadsetobsessions · 4 months
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Green Lantern hovered in the doorway of the med bay. He’d been summoned, but he had no idea what for.
“You know, spooky, some of us have lives to get back to. Not everyone can exist off of just work and blood or whatever,” Hal poked fun at Batman, who rubbed at his jaw tiredly. Hal blinked, stamping down the guilt that arose at Batsy’s uncharacteristic show of any emotion other than stone cold rationality or exasperation or anger. At least they’ve moved past grunts. That just lends credence to Hal’s theory of Batman being an immortal, like Vandal Savage. Batman could totally pass for a caveman, he’s got the grunts down, for sure.
“Still not a vampire. We found the Ghost King. The one the GIW was trying to hide in their records.”
“Well, shit.” Hal’s expression flattened, remembering the unsanctioned government branch that violated the Meta Rights act to a degree where even Amanda Waller had washed her hands of them. Bats had found evidence that they were experimenting on a child when a “source” had hacked into the base and begged them to find the child. Phantom, the hacker had claimed, who had managed to destroy the portal to the Infinite Realms
Batman had tried to boot the guy out of the system, until the hacker told them Phantom was the King of the Infinite Realms.
That got Constantine terrified, which urged Batman into a full hunting mode to track down the king. Mostly in part because Constantine said something along the lines of, “If the King dies, the Infinite Realms will wage war and decimate us. And considering they’re the realm of the dead, we’d lose so badly, even the demons won’t help us out for our bloody souls.”
Granted, he didn’t have that terrible British accent Hal attached to his voice every time the Green Lantern thought about the sad trench coat wizard, but the point still stood.
“He’s not fully conscious due to… his injuries, but the moments where he was, he reacted best to the color green.”
Hal did not want to know what kind of creepy stalker things Batman did to get that knowledge.
“Oh, great. You called me because I’m green,” he said to Batman as he floated into the med bay. “I can be green. I’m amazing at being green.”
Even with the sarcastic tone, Hal made sure to up his lantern aura, glowing a bright neon green. It wouldn’t do to help start a war if he wasn’t green enough.
Hal looked at the Ghost King, and yeah, he could see why Bats was so off his stoic face game today. Because the Ghost King looked like a teenager, and Bats is a bleeding heart and everyone knows it.
Hal waved away Batman, “Go back to Gotham and drink your true blood or whatever. You look like you’ve seen the sun too much.”
Translation: go home, you look tired.
Batman nodded, in thanks, and left to sleep (probably. Hal has never caught the man doing something so… plebeian). Hal is left playing babysitter. To an inter dimensional being that could- probably more like “would,” considering the live dissection he went through at the hands of humans- destroy their entire planet and/or universe. Another Tuesday for the Justice League.
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munson-blurbs · 1 year
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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series
Summary: After moving to Hawkins to take care of your ailing grandma, you end up spending a wild night with Corroded Coffin's lead singer, Eddie Munson. When you uncover his true intentions, you have no desire to ever see him again, but fate--and his son, Harris--has other plans.
Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), fingering (f! receiving), oral (m!receiving), slowburn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, Eddie is 30, Reader is 28, no use of y/n
WC: 7.5k
Chapter 1/20
Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple Divider credit to @saradika
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Late August, 1996. 
July had come and gone so quickly, and you could sense it in the muggy air as the daylight dwindled away on the horizon of an orange colored sky. Your heels click along the parking lot pavement as you make your way into the dingy bar. Everyone told you that your twenties would be full of surprises, but no one warned you that those twists and turns would land you in Hawkins, Indiana. 
The neon sign reads The Hideout; well, really, it reads Th H deo t, and the “o” is starting to flicker. You’re not the only one who notices the building’s crumbling exterior. 
“Huh,” Jess says, crossing her arms over her chest. “This place seemed a lot cooler when I was in high school.” Still, she pushes open the door, where you’re immediately hit with the stench of cigarettes and beer. The floor is sticky with what you can only hope is spilled liquor, and you take a seat on a rickety barstool. 
“How did you even hear about this place?” you ask your new friend, tugging your dress so it covers a bit more of your thighs. You had one night out to yourself, and Jess was insistent on you making the most of it. 
“Used to come here all the time when I was, like, sixteen?” She wrinkles her nose. “They’re dirt cheap and they never card, so my friends and I used to get super wasted. Thought we were hot shit.” She flags down the bartender with a wave and a smile. “Anyway, you can’t live in Hawkins and not come to the Hideout at least once. It’s a tradition.”
The bartender, a woman who looks to be in her mid-forties, leans on the counter. “What can I get you ladies?” she asks. Her voice is raspy from what sounds like decades of chain smoking. 
You’re about to order a Bud Light, but Jess cuts you off. “We’ll each have a Hideout Special,” she says confidently. “Make hers a double.”
“Jesus Christ, are you trying to kill me? And what the hell is a Hideout Special?”
She waves off your concern. “Honestly, I have no idea. But it’ll get you buzzed fast.”
You reluctantly agree, sipping on something that tastes vaguely like a mixture of rum and vodka, with the pungency of rubbing alcohol. “That’s awful,” you grimace, and Jess just laughs.
“Yeah, they’re pretty rough going down. But you only have one night to yourself, and you’re gonna make the most of it.” She links her arm through yours, using her free hand to tilt the drink back up to your lips. “Now, drink up. The band’s gonna start playing soon, and you’ll need all the liquor you can get. Trust me.”
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Corroded Coffin, the band in question, is warming up in the back room. Tuesday nights   has been their slot since high school, and if their lead singer and guitarist has his way, it’ll be their slot until they’re too old to play. He’s tuning his ax, tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration, only looking up when he hears a faint “oh, shit,” come from his bandmate.
“Y’good?” Eddie asks, strumming gently to play a perfect A-chord.
“Yeah,” Jeff says, holding up a small black box. “Forgot I had this in my pocket; almost dropped it when I took off my jacket.”
Eddie rolls his eyes. “That’s what you get for wearing leather in fuckin’ August, dude.” He squints at the object in Jeff’s hand. “What is that, anyway?”
“A ring,” Jeff proudly announces. “I’m gonna ask Viv to marry me.” The big, goofy grin on his face makes Eddie’s stomach churn. He looks at Gareth and Danny, expecting similar disgusted reactions from them, but they’re both smiling, too. 
“Way to go, man!” Danny says, and Gareth claps Jeff on the back. “Our little Jeff is growing up.”
“Oh, fuck off, man,” Jeff says, but he’s laughing as he accepts the congratulations. He glances expectantly at Eddie, waiting for him to chime in. 
“You two’ve been together for a million years,” Gareth jokes, twirling a drumstick in his free hand. “What made you decide to take the plunge?”
Jeff’s eyes dart around the room. “Okay, I wasn’t supposed to say anything,” he starts, voice hushed, “but Viv’s pregnant!”
“Holy shit!” Danny sputters. “Dude, you’re gonna be a dad!”
“Yeah,” Jeff agrees incredulously. “Fuckin’ wild, isn’t it?” His gaze falls to Eddie. “Does the seasoned professional have any words of wisdom?”
An uncharacteristic silence fills the room. Eddie can feel their eyes burning a hole into his head. He knows what he should say, what Jeff wants to hear, but he can’t bring himself to feign happiness. “You don’t have to marry someone just because you knocked her up.” It comes out with a snarl, meaner than he’d intended. 
“Crazy thought, but have you considered that I actually want to marry her?” Jeff shoots back, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’re not all content being miserable hermits like you are.”
“Whoa, break it up,” Gareth tries, stepping between the two guitarists, but the conversation’s already too heated. 
“I’m not miserable, and I’m not a hermit,” Eddie counters. “I’m just not about to limit myself when there’s plenty of pussy in the sea.”
Jeff rolls his eyes. “Whatever, dude. Thanks for the well wishes.” Eddie can’t help but notice the flash of hurt in his eyes as he walks away. A small part of him feels bad, but he can’t shake the anxiety that unexpected change seems to bring.  
“So, what does this mean for Corroded Coffin?” he asks. “Should we consider this our farewell show?” He tries to ignore the irritated glares he’s getting from Gareth and Danny. It’s like the words fall from his mouth before his brain can process the damage they can do. 
“Obviously, once the baby comes, I’ll have to take a step back,” Jeff shrugs. “And I’m gonna try to work some overtime before it’s born. Save some extra money, y’know.” 
The room had been zapped of joy, and Eddie feeds off of the sullen atmosphere. “Nice commitment to the band,” he sneers. “Glad to see how easily your priorities change.”
“Yeah, man, you should try it sometime,” Jeff snaps. His fists clench, and he looks angry enough to throw a punch. “Maybe you’ll stop acting like an overgrown teenager.” 
Eddie’s about to fight back, jaw locked in place and eyes seeing red, but he’s temporarily grounded by the sound of the manager’s tired voice echoing from the ancient sound system.  
“Put your hands together for Corroded Coffin!” A smattering of applause signals their cue to enter. Eddie tries to shake off the conflict; it can be resolved after they play. The show must go on, or whatever it was that his high school drama teacher always said. 
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A balding man with a gruff voice introduces the band as Corroded Coffin. Jess’s eyes go wide; she’s already a few Hideout Specials deep and definitely feeling it.
“Oh, shit!” she laughs with a hiccup. “That’s my sister’s boyfriend’s band!” She motions to the bartender to pour her another drink, but you shake your head and just mouth water. The bartender gives you a knowing nod, probably grateful that she won’t have to be the one dealing with Jess tonight.
“Yeah, that’s Jeff!” Jess continues, pointing at a tall guitarist with tight curls. “He’s the one who knocked up Viv!” She cackles like she just made the most hilarious joke. “I totally forgot they were playing tonight.” She frantically waves at him, and he gives a small head nod in acknowledgment.
Your eyes are drawn to someone else: the lanky, ring-clad man who takes center stage. He grips the mic with black polished nails, smirking out into the crowd as he yells, “Hawkins, how’re we doin’ tonight?” The loudest cheers come from Jess, and you join in, letting out an obnoxious “woooooo!” in response.
The noise draws his attention, and you watch as his smirk shifts to something needier, hungrier, even. His big brown eyes land on you and Jess, leaving you momentarily breathless. He’s absolutely gorgeous, light stubble on his cheeks and above his plush lips. He’s wearing a white V-neck that shows off a dusting of chest hair. His torn black jeans hang low on his hips, accentuated with a studded belt. A gleaming pair of silver handcuffs are clipped to one of the loops.
“All right!” he calls back. “Well, this first one goes out to the pretty girl in the blue dress at the bar. Wait for me after the show, Sweetheart.” He counts out to four, and they launch into a cover of Def Leppard’s Pour Some Sugar on Me.
It doesn’t even register until Jess nudges you, more forcefully than necessary, and says, “Hey, you’re wearing a blue dress!”
Oh. 
Oh. 
“Who…who is he?” you ask, feeling a warmth spread through your core that you’re sure isn’t from the alcohol. 
“That,” Jess says, leaning on you for balance, “is Eddie Munson. Total freak back in high school, but now he’s just got a reputation for being a freak in the sheets.” She throws you a clumsy wink and adds, “looks like you’ll get to find out for yourself tonight.”
“I’m not really a one-night stand kind of person,” you counter, internally cringing at the memories of your feeble attempts at hooking up, all of which inevitably ended with you pining after them pathetically. 
Jess rolls her eyes. “Come on,” she whines, taking note of the way you and Eddie can’t seem to tear your gazes from each other. “Your dad leaves tomorrow, and then you’ll be spending your nights taking care of your grandma. You gotta live a little!”
Plopping back down onto the barstool, you consider her sentiment. It’s true; once your dad goes back home, you’ll be the one helping out in the evenings. And the new school year starts next week, leaving you with little time for yourself. 
Your whole life has been spent helping others. You became a teacher to shape young minds and provide them with a safe place to learn and express themselves. You moved to a tiny town in the middle of Indiana to look after your grandma. Even now, you’re babysitting Jess and ensuring she doesn’t dehydrate instead of letting loose and ordering another drink. 
“Fine, but only if he brings it up,” you concede. “I’m not gonna be the one to make the first move.”
The band moves on to their next song; it’s either an original or one you’re not familiar with, but you find yourself dancing to the beat. Jess joins you, writhing her body in some kind of drunken jig that has you cackling. You’re having such a great time that you don’t even notice Eddie tripping over a few chords as he watches you sway your hips back and forth. 
Corroded Coffin plays for another forty minutes. You recognize some Metallica and Black Sabbath songs, headbanging along until you’re dizzy. The bartender slides you another drink—on the house, she insists—and you sip it eagerly, trying to quell your nerves. Eddie shouts out, “thank you, Hawkins!” and disappears backstage with the rest of the band. 
You can’t ignore the dejected pain in your heart, but you muster up a smile and turn to Jess. “Ready to get out of here?”
She shakes her head, putting her palm on the bar to steady herself. “You still have to wait for Eddie,” she teases. “You promised.”
You cock your eyebrow in amusement. “First of all, Drunky McWasted, I didn’t promise anything,” you say, “and second, show’s over and, uh, he’s not here.” You swivel around for emphasis. 
“Give him a fucking second, would ya?” The comment doesn’t come from your friend, and you turn around to see Eddie standing behind you. He’s got a towel around the back of his neck, mopping up the sweat from his performance. His hair is pulled back into a low ponytail, and you can see the remnants of kohl eyeliner smudged around his lash line. “Had to clean myself up a little bit, damn.” He smiles, and you feel like you’re going to melt. 
Jess interrupts, pushing you closer to him. “Eddie, this is my neighbor.” When you still don’t say anything, too awestruck to introduce yourself, she tells him your name. 
Eddie nods, letting his fingers graze yours. “What’d you think of the set?” He grins at the bartender, who gives a small head bob and hands him a whiskey, neat. 
“It was good,” you manage, finally finding your voice. “I especially liked the song you dedicated to the pretty girl in the blue dress.” There. You flirted. The rest is up to him.
“Yeah?” He rests his forearm on the bar and leans over to take his glass. “Was kinda hopin’ you would. Soon as I saw you, I knew I had to shoot my shot.” His eyes flit over the low-cut neckline of your dress before he drags his gaze back to your eyes. “You new to Hawkins?”
“Mhm,” you say, watching as he fumbles with a pack of Newports. “I moved here to take care of my grandma.” Good going. Nothing turns a guy on like talking about your elderly relatives.
But Eddie’s unfazed. “Hot and nice? A lethal combo, if I do say so myself.”
“What about you?” you blurt out. “I mean, have you always lived in Hawkins?”
He shrugs. “Been back and forth. Came here when I was nine, left when I was twenty-two, then came back about four years ago.”
“What brought you back? Missed all the excitement?” You laugh and he gives a small smile, but an emotion you can’t pinpoint crosses over his face.
“Somethin’ like that,” Eddie mutters, popping a cigarette between his lips. “Wanna go outside an’ have a smoke with me?”
“I’d love to,” you say with an apologetic tone, “but I really don’t wanna leave her alone.” You motion to your friend, who is currently trying to convince the bartender to let her have another drink. But as soon as she hears you using her as an excuse, she waves you off.
“Go,” she insists. “I’ll be fine. ‘M gonna have Jeff take me back home.” She stands on her tiptoes, nearly falling over, flailing both her arms wildly when she spots Jeff in the crowd and shouting, “Jeffy! Jeffy, can you drive me home so these two can have sex?”
You feel your face heat up at her words as Eddie shakes his head incredulously, lips twisting into a cocky grin. The last thing Jeff wants to do after Eddie’s earlier tantrum is help him get laid, but he knows there will be hell to pay if he doesn’t watch after his inebriated sister-in-law-to-be.
“Yeah, sure,” he grumbles, carefully looping his arm around her waist and helps her to his car. He appears to deliberately avoid making eye contact with Eddie, though you don’t know why. The two of them seemed to be getting along just fine on stage. The rest of the band leaves with them, carrying various instruments. No one even acknowledges Eddie’s presence. 
“Uh, everything okay?” You can’t not pretend you didn’t notice; the tension is far too obvious.
Eddie brushes it off with another shrug. “Guys all got sticks up their asses, I dunno.” He pulls a black Bic lighter from his back pocket and motions towards the door, signaling your cue to walk out with him and drop the conversation.
Chirping crickets and a rowdy group of drunks shouting obscenities at each other punctuates the otherwise quiet atmosphere. Eddie looks at you expectantly, holding out his lighter, and you realize that he’s waiting for you to take out your own pack of cigarettes. A pack of cigarettes that you do not have.
“Oh, I, um, I don’t smoke,” you stammer, biting your tongue in irritation towards your own awkwardness. “I mean, I’ll smoke, like, socially, but I don’t carry cigarettes on me. Sorry.”
“Wanna bum one?” You pluck one from the pack and lean in as he lights it for you. The crisp inhale of tobacco lingers in your lungs for a moment before you breathe out, grateful that you didn’t cough like a middle schooler stealing cigs from her mom’s stash. You take another drag, watching as he does the same. You’d thought that there would be some level of conversation, but Eddie seems perfectly content smoking in silence.
“So,” you finally say, “how long have you been playing guitar?”
He chuckles and pushes his hand through his hair, stopping where it’s gathered into a hair tie. The perspiration on his forehead is starting to dry, but his bangs still stick to it. “Shit, gotta be twenty years now. Damn, I’m fuckin’ old.”
“How old are you?” It comes out more accusing than inquisitive, and you sharply inhale more nicotine to shut yourself up.
“Turned thirty last month.”
“Oh, that’s not old,” you reassure him. “I’m twenty-eight, so…not far behind.” 
He doesn’t say anything in response to this. Maybe you’d misread his intentions. Or maybe he’d lost interest after just a few moments alone with you. The pretty girl in the blue dress quickly becomes the lame girl in the blue dress, and you both return home unsatisfied.
You try again, this time saying something that warrants a response. “I just moved here last week, if you have any recommendations of places to go. Restaurants or something?”
Eddie shakes his head. “Nah, ‘s pretty boring around here.” 
End of conversation.
“Well, I should probably get home,” you say, shifting your weight onto your other foot and stubbing out your cigarette in the nearby ashtray. There’s no sense in wasting anymore time, and the nighttime chill is biting at your bare legs. 
“Wait, what?” Eddie practically does a double-take. “I thought…didn’t Viv’s sister say something about…”
Or maybe you’d read the situation correctly after all.
“You still want to?” 
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” He ashes his own cigarette, and the smirk returns to his face. “Your place or mine?”
Considering the fact that your place is currently housing an eighty-year-old woman with declining cognition, and your father, you quickly jump at the offer to go to his home. 
You walk with him to his car, a beat-up blue sedan. He opens the passenger door, and you thank him with a tight smile, still not sure what to expect. Maybe he’s just not into small talk, but he seems awfully closed off for a man who’s trying to get laid.
A tangle of tree-shaped air fresheners hang from the rearview mirror; they sway slightly as the two of you plop in your seats. Instinctively, you look behind you as he turns the key in the ignition. Nestled into the far left side of the backseat is a carseat. Cheerio crumbs are wedged in the crevices, and an empty sippy cup leans up against it.
“Is that a carseat?” It’s a dumb question; of course it’s a carseat, but you can’t bring yourself to be more blunt and ask if he has a kid. I mean, the guy couldn’t even tell you a single restaurant to go to.
“Oh. Yeah.” Eddie reaches around, placing a ringed hand on the back of your headrest as he backs out of the spot. He doesn’t elaborate on the matter, just speeds out of the parking lot, so you don’t push it.
The words, I love kids; I’m actually a preschool teacher, linger on your lips, but you bite them back. This is supposed to be casual, a one-night stand; you’re not trying to be anyone’s stepmother.
Eddie flicks on the radio to a metal station–of course–and you sit back and try to enjoy the ride. You can faintly hear him humming along to the music. The fingers on his left hand drum on the steering wheel, while his right hand finds its way to your upper thigh. Fuck, it feels good. He gently squeezes, and the sensation of his cold metal rings combined with his hungry touch makes you involuntarily press your legs together.
“Just wait, Sweetheart,” he laughs. “There’s more where that came from.” It’s probably the most he’s said to you all night, and you consider it a small win. You lean in and gently nip at his earlobe, grinning as he shivers at the contact.
“There’s more where that came from,” you echo, shifting back in your seat. Eddie looks at you, brows raised and forehead creased in amusement, but–big surprise–says nothing. He pulls into an apartment complex parking lot, swinging into the nearest available spot, and kills the engine. Without the music or the steady hum of the ignition, you’re suddenly plunged into complete silence. Are you really doing this? Going to a stranger’s apartment to have sex with him? What if he’s some sort of serial killer? But Jess knows him–sort of–and vouched for him, so he can’t be all bad, right? Although, Ted Bundy had friends, too…
Eddie clearing his throat disrupts your inner monologue, and you glance up at him shyly. “Sorry,” you mutter, though you’re not quite sure what you’re apologizing for.
“No biggie,” he says, like he’s used to women just spacing out in his car before they fuck him. “Um, y’ready to go inside?”
You nod, opening your door and carefully stepping out onto the uneven pavement. You wobble a little in your high heels, but you feel a hand on your lower back, steadying you. “Lemme help you,” he mumbles, lacing his fingers through yours and guiding you to the front door of the building. 
The two of you only make it to the stairwell between the first and second floors before he’s pouncing on you, your back against the cold concrete walls. His hands start on your waist, traveling upwards and lightly grazing your breasts before he’s cupping your face. His kisses are hungry, but not sloppy; when his tongue breaches your lips, you let him in without a second thought. He places his knee between your legs, just barely nudging it against your lace thong. “Fuck,” he hisses, pulling away from you and running his tongue over his teeth, “I need you, pretty girl.” 
You pout, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. “Can’t get naked until we’re in your apartment.” You pause before whispering in his ear, “and if you thought this dress looked good on me, wait till you see it on your floor.”
Eddie’s eyes widen. “‘S just another flight of stairs after this, yeah?” He doesn’t wait for a response, just takes your hand again and leads you to apartment 3C. There are a few Hot Wheels cars scattered on the ground, but he kicks them under the couch without further explanation. He sits down, adjusts his body on the soft beige cushion, and pats his lap. “Your throne,” he says cheekily, exposing tiny dimples on either side of his lips.
Wordlessly, you climb on top of him. Your dress bunches up as you straddle his waist, though that won’t be a problem much longer. You greedily grind your clothed pussy over the rough denim of his fly, sucking on his neck as his strong hands clasp the back of your thighs and pull you closer.
“Needy thing, hmm?” Eddie smirks, chuckling when you feign offense. “Where’re you going? ‘M just teasing you.” He sits up a bit, tugging one dress strap down and kissing the flesh between your neck and shoulder. “Maybe I read it wrong, but…y’look like a girl who likes to be teased,” he says, voice muffled by your skin. 
“N-No, I do. Like it,” you stammer, fumbling with the frayed hem of his shirt and lifting it over his head. You run your hands over the expanse of pale skin, admiring his tattoos. There’s one of a red guitar pick right above his left pec; without thinking, you kiss it gingerly. He lets out a quiet moan, unzipping your dress and helping you shimmy out of it. You’re not wearing a bra, and he nearly chokes on his own tongue when he sees you on display for him.
“Christ, baby,” he groans, “got the most perfect fuckin’ tits I’ve ever seen.” He kisses them and runs his thumbs over your pert nipples before briefly sucking on them. The nickname baby isn’t lost on you, but you try not to read into it. 
Still, there’s a sense of satisfaction at the way he’s crumbling literally beneath you, though you can’t help but snarkily say, “bet you say that to all the girls you bring back here.”
Eddie throws his head back and laughs, sending vibrations through your core. “Only the ones with perfect tits.”
You hate yourself for wondering how many perfect-breasted women there have been.
“Bedroom?” It’s all you can manage, already breathless from dry humping like a goddamn teenager on prom night.
Eddie hesitates before shaking his head, a curl falling loose from the hair tie. “Let’s just, uh, stay out here. Room’s kinda a mess.” The unsure expression on his face hints at another reason, but he quickly distracts you by pushing your panties to the side, slipping his middle finger into your aching cunt. “Holy shit. S’fucking wet already. I knew you were needy.”
“Y-Yes. Need you. Need more.” You’re already stretched out by one finger, but you’re dying to know how a second one feels. The more of him inside you, the better. He obliges, fucking you with his pointer and middle fingers while his thumb makes tiny, hurried circles against your clit. “That’s it, right…right there. Don’t stop; please don’t stop!” He brings you to your orgasm, smirking as you finish all over his fingers. 
Your rocking slows, and you reluctantly pull yourself off of him and sink to your knees. He’s unbuckling his belt as fast as he can, and you can’t help but notice the wet spot on his jeans right where you were grinding on his thigh.
Eddie’s pants and plaid boxers are around his ankles in a heartbeat. His hard cock rests against his stomach; a pearly bead of pre-cum leaks from the tip. “Let’s see what that cute little mouth can do, Sweetheart,” he muses, leaning back into the couch with his hands behind his head.
You bite your lower lip. “First I gotta clean you off, yeah?” you ask before licking the tip, tasting him. His length twitches at that minimal contact, which makes you giggle. “Just relax. Let me take care of you.” There’s no protesting, so you grasp the base of his shaft with one hand and cup his balls with the other. You suck on the head, circling it with your tongue, before taking as much of the rest of his cock as you can fit into your mouth. 
“Mmm, baby, yes,” he growls, inhaling sharply when you gently tug on his balls. “Thas’ a good girl. Play with my fuckin’ balls, just like that.” He bucks up his hips, bringing his cock even further down your throat. “Gag on it, baby. Gag on my big fuckin’ cock.”
He’s not wrong; at least, it’s the biggest of any guy you’ve ever been with. Hollowing out your cheeks, you increase your pace, letting your nose brush against his patch of dark curls. Saliva drips down your chin; you swipe at it clumsily and keep your focus on him. 
“Shitshitshitshitshit–FUCK!” Before you can even process what’s happening, Eddie pulls out of you. Thick, hot ropes of cum trickle down his right hand, and he buries his face in his left. You reach for a tissue and hand it to him, and he angrily wipes off his spend. 
“Gimme fifteen minutes, and I’ll be good to go,” he says, tossing the used tissue in a nearby wastebasket. He finds the remote tucked behind a couch cushion and clicks on the TV. An episode of Seinfeld comes on. “You’ll do,” he mutters, plopping down next to you and poorly stifling a yawn.
“Sleepy?” you tease, wrapping your naked chest in an itchy wool blanket and curling up. He doesn’t put his arm around you, or make any attempt to cuddle, so neither do you.
“Nah, ‘m fine.” But nearly five minutes later, while Jerry and Elaine argue about God-knows-what, you can hear Eddie softly snoring next to you.
“Eddie,” you whisper. No response, so you try a little louder. “Eddie!”
“Huh? What?”
“I can, uh, I can go now. I’ll call a cab. Just need your address.” You start to get up and head for the phone hanging on the wall, but he puts an arm out to stop you.
“‘S’okay. Stay for a bit, baby.”
Stay for a bit, baby.
It almost feels like you’re taking advantage of him; his curt conversations and closed-off demeanor earlier in the night indicated that he was not looking for someone to sleep over. But now he’s asking you to stick around, resting his head on your shoulder and letting one tattooed arm drape over your waist. You let him stay there, trying your best not to wake him, but you’re forced to reach over him to grab the remote when an infomercial starts blaring.
“C’mere,” he mumbles, half-asleep as he lays down and scoots himself as far back as he can. You follow his lead, pressing your back against his bare chest. Your eyelids flutter shut, and you find yourself drifting off while wrapped in the warm embrace of this handsome stranger.
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RRRRIIIINNGGG! RRRRIIIINNGGG!
You’re startled awake by a loud, unfamiliar noise that doesn’t sound like your alarm clock. 
RRRRIIIINNGGG! RRRRIIIINNGGG!
Eddie jolts up, almost knocking you off the couch. “Shit, didn’t think you were still…” He turns towards the ringing sound, still confused. “What time is it?!” His eyes widen as he gets a look at the clock, which reads 7:19. “Shit, shit, shit! Son of a bitch!” 
He practically flies off of the couch, sprinting to the phone and bringing the receiver to his ear. “Wayne? Yeah, I’m sorry…overslept. I can be there in ten…no, you don’t have to do that, I’ll just…okay, okay, fine. See you soon.” He hangs up with a clank, turning back to you. 
You’re just sitting on the sofa, still wearing nothing but your underwear and the blanket. “Everything…um, is everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he says, but he lets out an overwhelmed sigh. “Let me help you find your dress.” He doesn’t say it aloud, but the real meaning behind his words seeps through: you should leave.
You nod, feeling the all-too recognizable lump in your throat. It happens any time these shared intimate moments come to an end; the realization of just how temporary you are in someone’s life is a punch to the stomach.
You find the bunched blue garment behind the couch and slide it over your head. The fabric feels stale and cold against your skin, like it doesn’t belong to you. Eddie’s only wearing his boxers, and you catch yourself staring at the collection of tattoos that trail down his arms and torso.
“Like what you see?” He laughs when you duck your head, scratching at the stubble on his cheeks as he walks towards you. “C’mon, don’t be shy. Not after that little show you put on for me last night.” He leans down, tilting your chin up to him and kissing you softly. “Before you go, leave your number, yeah?”
That makes you roll your eyes. “Oh, please,” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest.
“What?”
“Don’t ask for my number if you’re not gonna call,” you say. You sling your bag over your shoulder as you walk to the door. “We don’t have to do the whole song-and-dance. We can just, y’know, leave this as a one-night stand.”
Eddie chuckles incredulously. “You wound me, Sweetheart,” he says. “‘Course I’m gonna call you. How could I not wanna see a girl as beautiful as you again? ‘Sides,” he adds slyly, “We didn’t even get to the best part.”
Begrudgingly, you write your number on a nearby notepad. The phrase don’t get my hopes up for nothing sits on the tip of your tongue, but you bite it back.
You’re halfway down the stairwell when you remember that you never called a cab. There’s no way in hell that you’re going to clamber back up to the third floor and ask Eddie to use his phone–and get his address–so you continue down to the lobby payphone and dial Jess’s number.
“H-Hello?” a man’s sleepy voice picks up on the third ring.
“Uh, Jess?” It’s clearly not your neighbor, but you have no idea what else to ask. Did she find some skeezy guy to bring home from the Hideout last night? 
“Nah, it’s Jeff. Who’s this?” When you say your name, he hums in acknowledgment. “Oh, yeah. From the bar, right?”
“Yeah…is Jess there?”
He yawns into the receiver. “Last I checked, she was asleep. Finally. She spent half of last night puking her guts up. Everything okay?”
“Mhm. I was just wondering if she could pick me up from…um, from Eddie’s.” You cringe at your admission; the last thing you want is for Eddie’s bandmates to think that you’re some kind of pathetic groupie.
But Jeff seems unfazed. “I’ll be right there.” Before you can protest, he hangs up. 
You catch a glimpse of yourself in the glass-door reflection. Your hair is a mess, and there’s smudged makeup around your eyes and lips, like a billboard for the walk of shame.
Jeff pulls up a few minutes later, and you bashfully climb into the passenger seat. “Thanks,” you mumble, trying not to let your humiliation show through.
“Yeah, well,” he shrugs as he pulls onto the main road, “it’s a special occasion.” When you pinch your eyebrows together in confusion, he laughs. “Ed never lets a girl stay over. Not sure what you did–don’t wanna know, to be honest–but you must’ve made quite the impression.”
“Didn’t mean to,” you say quietly. “We both fell asleep after…yeah. We only woke up when we did because some guy named Wayne called.”
Jeff nods knowingly. “That’s his uncle. He watches his son on Tuesdays when we have our gigs.” 
His…son?
Jeff must notice the stunned expression on your face, and his cheeks flush pink. “Shit, he didn’t tell you about Harris?”
“We didn’t do much talking,” you reply wryly. “I’ll have to ask him about that when he calls.”
“Christ,” Jeff shakes his head. “Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but he’s not gonna call. Never does. Calls it the ‘Cat-and-Mouse.’”
“The what?” Your throat goes bone-dry. You should’ve trusted your intuition, denied giving him your number, left it as a one-time thing.
“He brings a girl back to his place, has sex with her and asks for her number, but doesn’t call. When she shows up to the bar the next week, all insecure and wondering if he’s still interested, he acts like he’s been so busy, apologizes profusely, and strings her along until she catches on. Then it’s onto the next one.”
You feel like your heart’s been ripped out of your chest. Bile burns at the back of your esophagus, and you have to blink back tears. How could you be so stupid, so naive? Didn’t you know by now that guys like Eddie Munson are only after one thing?
The two of you sit in silence until he pulls up to your building. “Thanks,” you say finally, “for the ride and for the warning.” Jeff just nods, watching to make sure you get inside before driving off. As soon as he’s safely down the road, you burst into tears. Angry at Eddie, but mostly angry at yourself.
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Eddie watches from his window as you get into a car–Jeff’s car–and leave. Great, he thinks, I’m sure I’ll get my ass handed to me at our next practice for fucking around with his sister-in-law’s friend. If we even still have a band, anyway.
Throwing on a pair of dark gray sweatpants and an undershirt, he makes his way downstairs just as Wayne and Harris arrive. His son is leaping out of his carseat to get to him.
“Daddy!” Harris flashes a gigantic smile. His dark brown curls are a tangled mess atop his head. Eddie unbuckles him and wraps him in a giant hug. He’s losing the chubbiness of his baby fat, but he’s still sweet and cuddly.
“Har-Bear!” Eddie laughs. “Did you say goodbye to Grampa Wayne?” Harris encircles Eddie’s waist with his legs, reaching out his arms to give Wayne a hug through the window.
“Sorry again,” Eddie says sheepishly. “Fell asleep and forgot to set the alarm.”
“Got a job yet? A real one?” Wayne asks stoically, ignoring his nephew’s apology.
A storm cloud washes over Eddie’s face. “I’ve told you a million times: nothing’s going to pay the bills as well as working for Rick.”
Wayne rolls his eyes. “Get a job,” he says pointedly, pressing a kiss to Harris’s cheek before lowering his voice and growling at Eddie, “and wipe the damn lipstick off your neck, for Chrissake.”
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Jeff’s right: Eddie never calls. The home health aid that takes care of your grandma during the day informs you at the end of each shift that week that no one named Eddie called for you. And while you can’t say you’re shocked, it doesn’t do much to quell the hurt.
You spend as much time as you can preparing your classroom for the new school year. By the time you’re finished, the room is decorated to look like a jungle. Stuffed animals of lions, monkeys, and different birds line the shelf tops, which are packed with various books and art supplies. Your walls are decorated with different posters, all of which encourage kids to be their best. 
The hustle and bustle of the first day of school helps keep your mind off of your personal life. With a thermos full of hot coffee, you happily introduce yourself to your teaching assistant, Will. He’s a sweet guy, a few years younger than you, and he’s practically bursting with games to teach the kids.
“Before I forget,” he says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a folded piece of paper, “I picked up our roster from the office on my way in. Looks like we have ten kids this year.”
“You’re the best,” you tell him gratefully, and he starts putting tiny chairs around tiny tables.
Being new to town, you don’t expect to recognize any of the names on the list. There’s an Abigail Carver, a Joshua Harrington…
And a Harris Munson.
“No fucking way,” you muse, apparently a bit louder than you’d intended, because Will’s head snaps up and he swivels in your direction. “Sorry.”
The sounds of bubbly giggles and excited chatter filing into the hallway grab your attention. One by one, parents start dropping off their kids, kissing them goodbye. There are tears–some from students, some from parents–and you’re quick to reassure everyone that school will be so much fun.
You’re just grabbing the sign-in sheet for Mr. Carver to fill out when you feel a small thump against your legs. When you look down, you see a curly-haired boy staring up at you with wide, brown eyes. 
“This is my classroom!” he says matter-of-factly, pointing to the number 3 on the door. “My name’s Harris. Like the guy from Iron Maiden!” He jumps up and down as he speaks. “Are you my teacher?”
“I am.” You smile and introduce yourself, peering towards the door. “Harris? Did a grown-up drop you off?” And please tell me his name is Wayne, you silently plead. 
“Oh, yeah! My dad has my backpack!” He starts running back to the hallway, only to crash right into Eddie. 
“Little dude, you can’t be running off like—” Eddie stops mid-sentence when his eyes land on you. “Oh, shit.”
You set your jaw, willing yourself to stay strong. He’s on your turf now. 
“Mr. Munson, you need to watch your language,” you warn crossly. 
“Yeah, sorry,” he mutters, handing Harris’s backpack to him. “I packed him a snack, um, and a juice box.”
“Okay,” you nod, crouching down to Harris’s eye level and injecting enthusiasm into your voice. “Can you find your cubby? It’s the one with your name on it!”
The little boy bounds over to his assigned spot, hanging his bag on the hook before running over to play with blocks. 
Forced to interact with Eddie, you press up on your knees and say, “Pick-up is at two.”
“Can I say goodbye to my kid before you kick me out? Jeez,” he grunts, calling out to Harris with his arms wide open. Harris hugs him, half-heartedly promising to be on his best behavior before starting to race back to the toys. 
“We walk in the classroom,” you tell him sweetly. “That way, people don’t hurt each other!” You make a point to look over at Eddie when you say the last part, though his gaze is trained on the classroom posters. Harris, innocent and oblivious, walks hurriedly towards the group of kids playing with blocks. 
“Didn’t know you were my kid’s teacher,” Eddie remarks, pressing his tongue into his cheek. 
You shrug. “Maybe I would’ve told you if you called me.”
Shooting you the wide eyes that he passed down to his son, Eddie lets his lower lip jut out in a little pout. “I’m so sorry; life’s just been, like, crazy lately—”
“Exactly what Jeff said you’d pull,” you bite back. “Two PM, Mr. Munson.” You walk towards your students to begin circle time, leaving Eddie dumbfounded. 
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After a long day of wrangling ten four-year-olds, you’re ready to go home and take a nap. The kids are gathered around the table, molding Play-Doh and giggling amongst themselves. By 2:10, everyone’s been picked up. Except for Harris.
“Typical,” you mutter, kneeling next to the boy and smiling sweetly. “Whatcha making, Harris?”
He holds up a lump of the yellow clay. “A dinosaur, see? Roar!” You fake being scared, and he laughs. “Don’t worry; it’s just pretend!”
“Oh, phew!” You wipe imaginary sweat off of your brow. “I was afraid that he was gonna eat me!”
Harris reaches over to where one of the other students had been sitting and plucks a handful of blue Play-Doh off of the table. “Wanna play with me?” He’s looking at you adoringly, and you can’t possibly turn him down.
Just as you’re about to join him, Eddie runs into the room. “Hey, buddy! Sorry I’m late. Got, uh, caught up with something.” 
Harris just shrugs, unaffected by his dad’s tardiness. “S’okay. Look!” He holds up the dinosaur proudly, giving another ferocious roar.
“That’s awesome! And super scary.” Eddie ruffles Harris’s curly hair before looking at you. “Can we talk for a sec? Out there?” he asks, gesturing to the hallway.
You huff out a sigh. “Fine,” you concede, and Will slips into the chair next to Harris. 
Eddie closes the door behind him. “Listen,” he begins, twisting his rings around his fingers, ”about the other night…” He trails off, and for a split second, you think he might offer a genuine apology. “I just don’t want this to affect how you treat Harris.”
You bark out an incredulous laugh. “You really think I treat my students any differently based on whether or not I like their parents?” Crossing your arms, you turn back towards the door, throwing out a pointed, “I think it’s best if you leave now.”
Eddie’s voice draws you back into the conversation. “I’ve never had this problem before,” he snorts. 
“Excuse me?”
“Most girls love the thrill of the chase. The will-he, won’t-he. Haven’t struck out yet,” he retorts, a smug grin spreading on his face. 
You roll your eyes. “Well, I’m honored to be the first. I don’t know what girls are into your pathetic games, but I’m certainly not one of them. So, please, just go before you say something else ridiculously stupid.”
Eddie bristles at that, standing a bit straighter and clenching his jaw. “Yeah, whatever,” he mutters, twisting the doorknob and punctuating his frustration with, “Frigid bitch.”
He’s just trying to get under your skin, and you refuse to let him get the best of you. You plaster on a well-practiced fake smile. “If you don’t think that this classroom is a good fit for Harris, you can request a transfer with the office.”
“Sounds like a plan, Sweetheart,” he snaps, yanking the door open so aggressively that it smacks into the wall. “We’ll be out of your hair by tomorrow.”
“Can’t come soon enough.”
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starkwlkr · 1 year
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Is there coming a part 3, then maybe where Charles becomes worldchampion? And celebrates with his daugther Ruby and his wife yn?
cool dad | charles leclerc
more baby leclerc content!! manifesting this happens irl if not i will be jumping off the nearest cliff 😝🫶🏼
Ruby couldn’t contain her excitement. She danced around in the hotel room to music coming from her mom’s phone, Y/N making sure her phone was locked before leaving it around Ruby.
“And I am a material girl!” Ruby jumped in the bed as Y/N finished her makeup in the bathroom. Charles was already gone. He was nervous, anyone could tell. Today was the last race of the season, the race that would determine if by the end of the night he was going to be world champion.
“Mama! Play it again!” Ruby said as she continued jumping.
“Ruby Jules, did you find the dress you want to wear?” Y/N asked. Recently Ruby was going through that phase where she didn’t want either of her parents to dress her, she wanted to do it on her own. Her clothing hooves mainly consisted of mix matched socks, bright colored shirts and once she even wore her fairy dress that she always wore on her birthday to the Spanish Grand Prix.
“I want grand-mère to dress me.” Ruby stopped jumping.
“Oh, okay. She should be here soon so just pick out your clothes and she can dress you when she gets here.” Y/N said and grabbed her phone from the night stand. She hoped Charles wasn’t too busy to answer her call.
“Yes, my lovely wife that didn’t give me a morning kiss.” Charles spoke into the phone.
“You’re so dramatic, Perceval. I’m just calling to let you know that we’ll be at the paddock in an hour. You have everything you need, right? You’re not missing anything? Lucky socks? Lucky shirt?” Y/N listed off as she continued her makeup as she put the phone on speaker.
“Just my lucky wife and daughter.” Charles replied.
“Aw that’s cute. Didn’t know you had another one. Is she cute?” Y/N joked. From a distance she could hear Ruby talking to herself about which dress she wanted to wear.
“Yeah, Pierre is cute, but not as cute as you.”
“Mama! Grand-mère is here!” Ruby yelled as Pascale opened the door to the hotel room, Lorenzo, Arthur and Carla entered behind her.
“I have to go, Love. I’ll see you soon, world champion.” Y/N said.
“Stop, you’re going to jinx it.” Charles chuckled.
“No, I’ve been manifesting. I even went to a crystal shop before this trip. You’re going to be world champion, Charles Leclerc.” Y/N said witch much confidence.
“I love you, mon amour.” Charles replied. He hoped his dream would come true. It would mean so much to him seeing his daughter watch him become world champion.
“I love you the most, Perceval.” Y/N said then ended the call. Ruby then ran into the bathroom to show her mom a dress that Pascale has bought her so she could wear it to the race. “It’s beautiful, baby.”
“That’s what I told grand-mère!” Ruby smiled and ran back to the room. It was still too early, but there was no stoping the little girl.
Y/N stepped out of the bathroom, all dressed up and ready to go. “Hi, how are you?” Carla asked, kissing Y/N’s cheek to greet the mom.
“Nervous, but excited. Ruby’s even more excited.” Y/N nodded as she went up to every single member of the Leclerc family and kissed their cheek.
Pascale chuckled. “Did you see the dress I got Ruby? I saw it last week in the store and I just knew she would love it!”
Everyone looked at Ruby who was still jumping on the bed, but this time she had the dress in her hands.
“Ruby, careful. Come on, you said you wanted grand-mère to help you put your dress on. We have to go see papa race.”
Ruby took Pascale’s hand and led her grandmother to the bathroom so she could change. Carla and Y/N catched up on their lives while the two Leclerc men kept up with pre-race interviews on their phone.
“Y/N, they’re asking Charles about Ruby.” Arthur showed the phone screen to his sister-in-law.
“You’ve got a little girl, Ruby Jules-” Charles interrupted the interviewer.
“Right. But everyone knows her as baby leclerc and she loves the name. I was the one that gave her that.” Charles smiled proudly.
Charles had spoken to Y/N after Ruby’s whole instagram live video. Of course everyone knew Ruby’s name by now and that was something Y/N never wanted to be out in the first place. She at least wanted her daughter’s life to be private since hers and Charles was far from it.
“And is she excited about today? Does she understand that her dad could be world champion?”
Oh, Ruby understood more than that. In school, she had told her friends and teachers that her dad was already world champion. Of course that wasn’t true, (Not yet at least) but the little girl was so proud of her dad that she knew he could be world champion.
“Yeah, she has watched most of the races. She knows quite a few things actually, which surprises me because she mostly watches cartoons and listens to pop songs. But yeah, she even caught on with the whole forza charles and says it to me before every race even if she’s not here she makes her mother call me.” Charles explained.
“Forza Charles or Forza dad?”
“A bit of both. Charles when she’s excited so mostly I hear forza Charles coming from my daughter. It’s funny.”
The first time Ruby ever said that to her dad was in Silverstone. After hearing his daughter say those meaningful words, he pushed through and ended up on the podium.
“Mama! Look!” Y/N stopped looking at the screen to turn around to see her daughter in her new dress. Ruby twirled and did a pose which caused both uncles to take their phones out and snap photos of their niece.
“Where’s your grand-mère?” Y/N asked when she noticed Pascale wasn’t out of the bathroom yet.
“She wanted to ask you something. I think she wants to borrow some makeup.” Ruby ran to tackle her uncles by jumping on them.
Y/N nodded and went into the bathroom to see Pascale waiting for her. “Ruby said you wanted to ask me something.”
“Yes, I know I shouldn’t have looked around but Ruby wanted a little makeup from the bag so I grabbed some of yours and I found this.” Pascale handed her a pregnancy test that had the words positive on the little screen. “I’m sorry, I know this isn’t how you wanted me to find out.”
“Pascale, don’t be sorry. You had to find out sooner or later. I put it here because Ruby knows not to touch my makeup bag.” Y/N chuckled. “I’m planning on telling Charles after he becomes world champion.”
“And he will.”
Charles would think that the two mothers made some kind of magic to make him win or that Y/N was actually serious about using crystals. Whatever it was, he was grateful because it got him an unforgettable moment.
“Charles Leclerc, you are world champion!”
Fireworks went off making Ruby cheer at the bright colors. She pointed at the right lights in the sky as Lorenzo held her in his arms. She was amazed until Lorenzo pointed at the Ferrari crossing the finish line that belonged to her father.
“That’s papa!” Ruby screamed.
Charles couldn’t wait to hug his family. After years and years of hard work, his dream of becoming world champion had finally come true. This moment was for him, for his father, for Jules, for Anthoine.
“When can I see papa?” Ruby asked her mom, who was standing beside Lorenzo.
“I’m not sure, chérie. Papa has a lot of people congratulating him. We’re going to see papa celebrate.” Y/N explained to the girl.
The family walked to get a good spot to see the podium ceremony. Checo was given his third place trophy while Max received his second place trophy. Finally, the moment everyone had been waiting for, Charles receiving his world championship trophy. Lorenzo raised Ruby a bit higher so she could cheer for her dad. Arthur made sure to capture everything on video.
That night hearing the Monaco national anthem was something special. This was different. A good different.
Y/N stared at her husband with proudness. He worked extremely hard every year just for that moment. She clapped alongside everyone as Charles celebrated. Y/N wiped away a tear once Charles spotted his family. He blew several air kisses to where they were.
“Mama, he saw us!” Ruby excitedly said.
“And for the last time this year, the celebration!”
Les Toreadors started playing as all three drivers grabbed their bottle of champagne and started spraying each other. After a few seconds, Charles made his way to where the Ferrari team were and sprayed them.
“Is that juice?” Ruby asked.
“Yes, but it’s the kind that you can’t drink.” Arthur tried explaining.
“Why?”
“Because you can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s for adults.”
“Nuh-uh!”
“Uh-huh!”
Having Arthur around was like having another child. At least Ruby didn’t get bored with her uncle Arthur.
It felt like hours trying to get ahold of Charles since everyone was congratulating him on his championship. Ruby was the first to hug him since she ran to him at full speed.
“You did it, papa!” Ruby smiled brightly at her dad as she hugged him.
“It’s because of you. You gave me forza, remember? This is all you.” Charles hugged her tighter as he walked to his family waiting for him.
“Forza papa!” Ruby yelled. Charles set the girl down.
“mon beau garçon!” Pascale cried out as Charles hugged her. “Your father is proud of you forever.”
Charles couldn’t hold his tears in. This special moment was supposed to be celebrated with his whole family, but one special person was missing.
“Congratulations, little brother!” Lorenzo joined in on the hug as well as Arthur, Carla, Y/N and Ruby.
“Ice cream after?” Ruby suggested making everyone laugh. The hug was broken up, but Y/N still held onto her husband.
Pascale knew what the woman was going to do so she whispered to her sons and Carla to let them have a moment. “Come, Ruby, let’s go find ice cream.” Arthur grabbed Ruby’s hand.
The couple stayed in each others arms for a bit. Charles certainly didn’t want the night to end. He eventually let go of his wife to kiss her lips. “I did it, mon amour.” He said after kissing her.
“I’m beyond proud of you, Charles. Everyone is. You deserve this more than anyone.” Y/N kissed Charles once more.
“This feels like a dream.” Charles admitted. “Be honest, on what lap did you take out your little crystals to make me win?”
Y/N laughed and playfully smacked his arm. “I didn’t. I knew you wouldn’t need any type of crystals to help you win. You’re Charles Leclerc, you’re world champion.”
“That sounds so beautiful coming from you.” Charles whispered as he grabbed ahold of her waist. “Would it be bad if we leave Ruby with maman and you and I can properly celebrate?”
“Calm down, world champion. If we go out, I probably won’t be much fun.” Y/N said. Charles raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Just to remind you what happens in Vegas doesn’t stay in Vegas.”
“I am still trying to understand-”
“I’m saying Ruby might fight her new sibling over the baby leclerc title in nine months because I’m pregnant.”
“Oh!” Charles understood.
“Yeah, we are never going back to Vegas if it ends up with me being knocked up.”
“It’s Vegas, baby!”
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jellitchi · 1 month
Text
varigo lovely night animatic
i made this in a sickly haze.... i uploaded her to youtube as well feel free to check it out. under the cut is a Huge Ramble abt sum context / what happens In My Mind... also their Fancy ballroom fits n whatever
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yk how theres a ball/fancy party or smth? yeah i needed stupid designs so i cranked these out might return and color them but i basically based varian n hugos design off of these just dressed down...
Anyways.
uhm i might write a Whole fic abt this with Oomf but uhm.
this takes place during the events of vat7k about a year after varian initially left, he returns to corona w his friends to find the library and rapunzel and eugene throw him a surprise birthday party. and in true disney character fashion, something horrible happens on his birthday. the gang gets caught witnessing / overhearing plans to assassinate the princess tonight. or maybe its gonna b a murder mystery party gone awry- havent decided. the group splits into two groups, the detectives and the protectors. yong and nuru are the detectives, theyre looking for evidence they can use to prove this has been planned for a long time. hugo n varian r tasked w making sure rapz n eugene done die sum horrible death as they hang out at the party. did i mention the party is The royal ball. so everyone is in stuffy/fancypants fits.
the whole running gag was gonna b rapunzel and eugene having like fifty near death experiences n its always like, Unknowingly. and hugo and varian r stressed out of their mind.
the reason varian n hugo r on Protector duty is coz theyre like Uhm. we're better at Improvising stuff. We can curve this and try n get the Killer to mess up and leave a trail for nuru n yong to go after.
anyways this animatic takes place a bit after like fifty attempts (cartoon ass flower pot almost crashes on their head, they watch someone spike their drinks and hugo runs over and drinks them both followed by an antidote varian just made, they walk through an archway and just barely miss the guillotine positioned above their head okay you get it just Silly cartoonish methods of assassination)
A Lovely Night takes place after Most of that so theyre very tired, the two get locked onto a balcony and r forced to kinda js Watch rapz n eugene hang out. varian takes a seat n is trying to sleuth out whos tryna kill his sister, he has an imaginary cork board w strings. hugo is kinda like "mann theyre kinda cute tgt. see two ppl locked on a balcony alone under the night sky would consider this romantic, goggles." n then Lovely Night!
uhm and the afterwards i think theres a figure approaching eugene and rapunzel so the two literally make a makeshift rope and throw themselves down the balcony to save them but boom they played into the assassinators plan! they were tired of varian and hugo getting in the way so they were js gonna kill em too. n then this is when rapunzel n eugene step in, n save them yeah and then they tell them everything and all is well and good and the assassins r behind bars...! Segment end....
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noodle-bin · 5 months
Text
Baby Blue
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Leon Kennedy x reader
Summary: Leon comes home to his princess, but she needs to be punished. Good princesses don’t deserve to be fucked, so daddy must fuck her ass instead.
Tags: DDLG, smut, daddy kink, breeding kink, reader is a little, funishment not punishment, anal, squirting, pussy neglect, true princesses name their plushies, I’m sorry this is feral
Word Count: 2.6k
Ao3 cross post
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Leon’s drive home was filled with overwhelming thoughts of you. He was able to get out of the office early, and all he could think about was rushing home to you. To his princess. He found a sense of stability in being your daddy and being able to protect you. When he couldn’t manage to protect everyone, he knew he would always protect you. It helped ground him and give him a very controlled responsibility, and you loved it just the same. You loved letting yourself be nurtured. With such glossy, round eyes as yours he really couldn’t let anybody else have you. You were gorgeous and you could only be his.
When he got home, Leon found you in the living room curled on the couch. He grabbed you by the hips and pulled you into him when you rushed forward to meet him. Leon could feel the swell of your breasts and your hands squished against his chest as he looked down at you. There were your big round puppy eyes again, looking up at him, begging. Begging for what? Noticing the gentle way you squished your thighs together gave him a pretty good answer as to what you were begging so quietly for.
“I’m home princess,” Leon pressed several kisses all over your face, stopping at your forehead. “Is there something my princess needs?”
“Daddy’s attention! I missed you!”
You were a needy girl, needless to say. You tried to feign innocence when you clearly knew how to push Leon. Pressing your tits against him when you grabbed his arm, or “readjusting” constantly when sitting on his lap. From choosing a revealing top or a fitted dress, the constant teasing never ended. Even through the frills and bows adorning you, you always looked at him the exact same way. With round puppy eyes begging to be taken. It’s the part you enjoyed the most, honestly. Feigning innocence just for Leon to corrupt you bit by bit. To take his princess and watch her tear-covered cheeks as she takes his cock into her throat. To teach her what it means to be pleasured. It’s not like you didn’t know, but you loved to play the part. It was natural. To be his little princess who couldn’t possibly be dirty enough to think about wanting sex.
Leon kissed your forehead again. “What did you do today, princess?”
You bit your lip, tasting the strawberry gloss you had applied earlier. “Mm, I got home from work and, and I took a nap with Capt’n.” Captain was the shark plushie that you adored. Captain could always protect you while Leon was gone. “I also colored for daddy.”
“Good girl, show me what you colored for daddy.” Leon watched as you grabbed the coloring pages you had left on the living room table. They were pages of Sanrio characters, specifically Cinnamoroll.
“Remember Cinnamoroll, daddy?” You began to chat away, talking about all sorts of fun facts of the dog.
“Yeah, princess?” Leon listened and refilled your sippy cup with apple juice.
The ddlg lifestyle was quickly adopted once the both of you had opened up about it. It was a bit obvious in hindsight through the nurturing role Leon chose to take, and how little you were sometimes. Frills and bows seemed to follow you everywhere, glitter pens were always around, and baby blue was your signature color. The lifestyle also caught up in small actions. Not only did Leon open the car door for you, but he also took the time to buckle you in. Feeling his large presence reach around you to buckle you in made your feel all sorts of safe. Kisses on the forehead were endless, tying your shoes was a given, and nicknames too. Pacifiers became the norm, and you used sippy cups instead of “grown” cups. The plushie population was duplicating in size and needed a net to be kept in the top corner of the room. Smaller snacks like animal crackers, cookies, or gummies were carried with you everywhere, and Leon loved to steal them from you too. You let yourself indulge in cute accessories day to day. Keychains, stickers, glitter pens, cute notebooks, hair bows, the list continued. But your favorite part of it all were Daddy’s rules. In a sheet on the fridge you had written them out with numerous glitter pens and highlighter colors.
୨୧ Bedtime of 11pm.
୨୧ No swearing as a little.
୨୧ Always obey daddy.
୨୧ Use your manners.
୨୧ Compliment yourself every morning.
“Princess it’s getting late, we’ve got to get you to bed,” Leon reminded you, handing you your apple juice. “We need to clean up your mess,” he gestured at the crayons and snacks around your coloring book on the table.
You pouted, grabbing the sippy cup Leon was handing to you. “Can’t we leave it to tomorrow, daddy?”
“No buts, princess. We can’t leave a mess,” Leon kissed your forehead again, patiently waiting to help you pick up your coloring materials.
You looked him in the eye, “No.”
“What was that?” Leon grabbed your chin. He didn’t like when his princess disobeyed, but he smiled knowing you would have to be punished.
“I said no.”
“My my, such big words for my little girl. That just won’t do. Disobeying daddy means punishment, princess. Pick up your mess. Now.” Leon said firmly.
Your plan failed. He didn’t bite the bait. Or so you thought. Leon was considering all the “punishments” he could do to you as he watched you from the doorway. This was a major offense; disobeying daddy without a good reason. It was a critical rule. He watched as you groaned and put your crayons and coloring book away into their designated spot. You grabbed Captain off of the couch and trailed behind Leon into the bedroom. He kept his hand on the small of your back as the both of you stepped in, the covers a little out of place from the nap you had taken earlier.
You chatted away as Leon chose the pajamas you would wear to bed, and helped take your makeup off.
“Your eyeliner is really good today, princess,” Leon noticed as he gently wiped it away.
You beamed under him, allowing him to wipe your face clean. He kept noticing the way you squirmed and squeezed your thighs together. You were more restless than normal.
“What do you need, princess?”
You stopped squirming and looked up at Leon. To be honest, you wanted to be fucked. But you didn’t want to be so blunt. You tried to give all the signals, truly! But he wasn’t getting it.
“You.” You looked at him with your doe eyes again. Can’t he take the hint?
“Princesses don’t get rewards for disobeying,” Leon chided, but his own body was fighting against him. The bulge in his pants was getting harder to hide, but he wasn’t to blame. You really were so soft under him, your body pliant to his tight grip. He wanted to kiss you and eat you whole, glitter and all. His hands trailed down to your ass and squeezed, but he noticed a certain bump. You had a butt plug in. My my, does this change plans.
“Bad princesses don’t deserve to be fucked.” Leon continued, squeezing your ass again. You moaned quietly, clinging onto Leon’s chest as he played with you. The disappointment finally settled in. No matter how much you teased, he really wouldn’t fuck you tonight for disobeying.
“Since bad princesses don’t deserve to be fucked, I guess I’ll just have to fuck your ass.” Leon said before he pulled your shorts down to squeeze your ass again, his hands trailing to the butt plug you had in.
You gasped at the sudden motion, but smiled so big at him, “Really daddy?”
He kissed you softly as he played with your butt plug. Thrusting it in and out slowly, working you open with the lube you had previously. Your knees were going weak at the pleasure and you threw your hands around Leon’s neck to stay upright.
“I’ve got you princess,” Leon cooed as he felt your hole relax around the plug. He continued to work your open, feeling you thrust back onto the plug. You let your head fell into Leon’s shoulder, feeling him pepper kisses on your head as he stared at your round ass below.
“Such a pretty princess,” Leon cooed again. The strain of his bulge against his pants reminded him of his own need, but he had to make sure you were well prepared first.
A few kisses later and you were on the bed, pajamas thrown to the side. Leon’s body loomed over you, hand on your hip and the other supporting him on the bed. It didn’t take long for your kisses to turn more desperate and heated, your own teeth nibbling against Leon’s bottom lip.
“Daddy,” you whined, throwing your arms around his neck again.
Leon shushed you with more kisses and gently pushed your back onto the bed. Once he pulled away, he took the time to really take you in. Staring up at him with doe eyes, flushed cheeks, and swollen lips. You were the finest painting he has ever seen. Your hair was splayed out like a halo onto the bed, and he decided he needed to have you at that moment. He reached forward and flipped you over onto your stomach in one swift move. He made sure to grab Captain and gave him to you so you had something to hug while he fucked you.
Gentle fingers trailed down your spine, slowly taking in the curve of your ass. He spread your cheeks to see your little pink hole, stuffed with the plug and leaking with lube. He slowly pulled it out not without noticing the way your hole twitched at its absence. You turned your head to look back at him, his gaze fixed on your body. Leon’s hair covered half of his face, but the deep groan he let out was a clear sign on how he was feeling. He needed to stuff you. Needed to feel you take him whole and cry out for him. Daddy needed to take care of his princess.
“Are you ready for your punishment, princess?” Leon kneaded your ass all while his gaze remained transfixed on your hole. The urge was clawing him from the inside out. He was going to stuff you.
His briskly took his clothes off to finally have his leaking tip pushing at the tight bundle of nerves. You waited with baited breath as he slid his cock between your cheeks, teasing you.
“I want you inside, daddy,” you whispered, staring at him with your begging puppy eyes again. Fuck. You were going to be the death of him.
He finally pushed his cock inside, taking in the sensation as he filled you to the brim. Your breath quickened and you let out a deep moan at being stretched and full. You felt whole. Leon watched you stuff your face into Captain, watched the rise and fall of your back, as he stayed still inside. Rubbing small circles onto your back to help you relax. The urge to fuck into you like an animal was bubbling just under the surface, but he withheld. He had to take care of his princess. He needed you to feel comforted, safe, and pleased.
It didn’t take long before he finally felt your body relax around him and he began to slowly thrust. His pace was so slow, but it was so overwhelming you wanted to cry. You loved the way Daddy stretched you so full it was tipping on the edge of pain, and you wanted more. Leon moved so slowly and gently, working you open with his cock. He watched the way your body trembled under his touch, giving into his ministrations. You molded around his cock perfectly as if you were made for him. Made to be stuffed by daddy’s cock.
“Daddy,” you whined into Captain.
Fuck. Calling him daddy like that did something to him.
“I know baby, I know. Let daddy take care of you.” Leon continued his slow pace. Your mind went blank at the sensation, squeezing your eyes shut from the pleasure. It was too much. If he fucked into you any faster you were sure you would break. But he didn’t, he held himself back knowing you were struggling to take him. So he was slow, grinding into your heat, feeling the lube leak onto your thighs.
A few thrusts later and the begging began. You wanted more —no, needed more. And Leon was right behind you. Baby. His baby. Stuff his little girl until she was full. He couldn’t stop looking at how your small hole took him so nicely, seeing you take the sheer size of him. He pressed his body lower and kissed the junction of your shoulder before he finally quickened his pace.
You cried from pleasure, clinging onto Captain as you felt Leon’s balls slap against your weeping cunt’s entrance. It felt neglected while your ass was being fucked into instead. It was so lewd listening to the wetness of your asshole being fucked, squelching around Leon’s cock.
You were doing such a good job, squeezing around Leon relentlessly and taking him whole. He groaned at the sensation, his orgasm creeping up behind him so soon. It was like his body was moving on its own by caving into the need of fucking into you; feeling your hot walls squeeze around him. It felt so good you couldn’t imagine stopping. His cock working you open, only for him to pull out and watch you gape around his absence.
“What a filthy little princess. Needing her ass fucked for being a bad, bad girl.” Leon watched with bated breath as your asshole twitched around nothing, his cock aching to stuff you again.
“Daddy,” you cried, aching to be filled again. You shook your ass, trying to get him to fuck into you again. “Please fuck me!”
You cried as he finally pushed his fat tip past the tight bundle of nerves, groaning as he bottomed out inside of you. He really was going to rearrange your guts.
It felt so shameful to like having your asshole fucked instead of your cunt. It was dripping wet, begging to be fucked into instead of your ass, but this was your punishment. Only good girls deserve to have their cunt used, and tonight he was going to breed your ass and watch the cum drip down onto your cunt instead.
So he continued to fuck into you, your cries only pushing him to fuck into you longer.
“Poor baby, you want your cunt fucked into don’t you?”
You cried into Captain, the pleasure overwhelming. Your body started to twitch and you felt the sudden wetness gush between your thighs. Leon held onto you as your squirt continued to gush with every thrust. Too much. Too much, you can’t. You lay beneath him, trembling and crying. Babbling about how you couldn’t stop, can’t imagine stopping, you needed more. Leon listened, feeling you squeeze around him was finally pushing him over the edge.
“I’m gonna stuff you so full baby, can you take it? Take daddy’s cock? Yeah?” Leon groaned as he gripped your hips, snapping his own flush against yours. Yeah, he was going to stuff you.
His own orgasm chased after yours, finally filling you. You trembled at the sensation of Leon finally pulling away only to watch his cum dribble down onto your weeping cunt. It didn’t take him long to notice the puddle of squirt you had made on the bed too. What a sight, his princess had taken him so well.
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moonstruckme · 3 months
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Worried/gentle Pre relationship Sirius x reader who’s having a panic attack (his first time seeing her have one)
Thanks for requesting!
cw: panic attack
Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words
Sirius is no amateur concert-goer. He knows how to hunt for the best tickets, how to smuggle in drinks, and how to get there early enough that he gets right up by the stage. Since it’s your first real concert (you argued that you’ve seen musicians play at restaurants and parks and the like, which Sirius informed you doesn’t count), he’s pulling out all the stops. 
“Alright, doll, we’ve got one bottle of water and one of vodka. Newbie’s choice.” 
“You can stop hammering in the newbie thing so hard, you know,” you say, reaching for the vodka. Your eyes flicker between the people starting to gather around you as they filter into the venue. “I don’t want to be ostracized by everyone here.” 
Sirius grins. “I’ll vouch for you, don’t worry.” 
You mirror his smile wryly, taking a covert swig from the bottle. “Won’t someone take this away from us?” 
“No,” he says, “right now everyone who works here is too focused on getting people inside, and soon it’ll be too packed to see us anyway.” 
You press your lips together as you nod, taking another hearty sip of the vodka. 
As if he hasn’t already been doing it all week, Sirius launches into a biography of the band you’re seeing. How they’d gotten started, when they’d been discovered, how he’d first discovered them (the true beginning of their fame, really), etc, etc. At first, you’re smiling and chiming in as he talks, but gradually he notices you becoming less responsive. You seem distracted. Must be the atmosphere, he reasons. There’s an exhilarating buzz going through the crowd, which Sirius is pleased to note comprises a rather impressive turnout for a band that’s just getting their start. With the colored lights the venue’s management turned on after everyone had been let inside, it’s difficult to make out distinct faces in the sea of bobbing heads. Sirius would hardly know it was you next to him if you hadn’t linked your arm through his the first time someone had cut between you two, as though worried he’d get swept away if you didn’t hold on tight. He hardly minds; if things were different between you, he doubts you’d ever be able to extricate his hand from your back pocket. 
“You with me, dollface?” he asks when you don’t seem to notice he’s asked you a question. He’d asked if you wanted to try to find an after-party, though he knows you well enough to suspect you’ll be ready to collapse into bed by the time the concert itself is finished. 
“Hm?” You look at him, the sparkly eyeshadow you’d asked him to put on you glinting as you blink. Your pupils look huge. “Yeah. Yeah, sorry.” 
Sirius starts to nod, but then someone behind you shoulders you accidentally and you jolt like you’ve been shot. 
He eyes you warily. “You sure? You look a bit warm.” 
It’s an understatement. Your features gleam with sweat under the colored lights. The crowd does make it a bit balmy inside, but your face is as flushed as if you’ve run a mile. 
“I’m okay,” you say, though you won’t look at him. You take a breath as if to steady yourself, untangling your arm from his to press a hand to your chest. 
Sirius touches your shoulder tentatively. It’s hot and slick under his hand. “Sweetheart, you’re shaking,” he says, panic creeping up his throat. This is all a bit too familiar. “Do you need some air?” 
You suck in a breath, the action sounding more effortful than it should. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” you pant. “Yeah, I think—yeah.” 
Sirius glances around, taking a millisecond to mourn your prime spot before plotting a course through the crowd. He makes you hold his hand as he shoulders his way through, keeping you close behind him. It’s frightening how he can hear the sound of your gasping breaths even over the eager ruckus of the crowd. 
He gets you through as quickly as he can, beelining for the exit. “You’re alright,” he tells you as you both break out into the crisp night air. It takes all the self-control he has to keep his own anxiety from his voice, but he does his best to sound gentle and calm. “We’re going to find you a place to sit down.” 
He guides you over to the side of the building, mostly out of sight of traffic going in and out the doors, and sits you down on some grass. You fold your knees into your chest instantly, the position obviously familiar, and press your forehead to your knees. 
“You’re gonna be okay,” Sirius murmurs, crouching beside you and rubbing your back. Smooth, slow passes up and down your spine. “I’m not going to leave you. Just breathe, doll.” 
You seem like you’re really trying, forcing slow if stilted breaths through your mouth. He gathers the hair off your nape, using a ponytail from his wrist to tie it loosely over your head. The cool air seems to be helping somewhat. Your ears and neck are less flushed, but you’re still shaking something terrible. He redoubles his efforts on your back, pushing his palm into your spine in a way he hopes is soothing. 
“I’m sorry,” you gasp into the space between your knees and your abdomen. 
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it, please,” Sirius begs you. “Are you cold? Do you want my jacket?” 
You shake your head. 
“Anything I can do?” 
You blow out a breath. Shaky, but more substantial than the rest. “Can I have the water?” 
“Yeah, of course.” Sirius’ own hands tremble slightly as he untwists the cap, passing it to you. You bring your head up to drink it, taking brief, measured sips. Your makeup is all smeared underneath your eyes. 
“Thank you,” you manage once you’re done. Sirius gets the impression you mean for more than the water. 
“Don’t mention it.” He takes the bottle from you, hand resuming its path on your spine. You tuck your head back into your legs. “Take your time, love, we’re not in any rush.” 
Slowly, over the course of the next few minutes, your breathing evens out. Some of the tension leaves your body, your posture slumped and miserable as goosebumps appear along your arms. Sirius drapes his jacket over you, continuing to rub your back through the thick material. 
Finally, you lift your head. 
“I’m sorry.” Your voice is tight, a tear slipping down your face. Sirius’ heart revolts, batting against his ribs like a frantic bird in a cage. 
“Hey, it’s okay,” he says, doing his best to keep the desperation out of his voice as scoots closer to your side. He brushes the wetness away with his thumb. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for, sweetness.” 
“No, I know crowds do this to me, and I didn’t even warn you, I just—” Your face scrunches, as if you’re endeavoring to keep some great pain at bay. “I wanted to do this for you.” 
Suddenly he’s the one with no air. Guilt chokes him, hot and thick in his throat. “You didn’t have to do anything for me, dollface. I mean, I appreciate it,” he gives you one of his best smiles, rewarded when your eyes crinkle slightly in response, “but I never want you to put yourself through anything like this for me. I’m happy when you’re happy, understand?” 
You nod, eyebrows stitched together remorsefully. Sirius wants to kiss between them, then all up and down your face until not a hint of melancholy remains, but in lieu of that he tucks a piece of hair that had escaped his earlier capture behind your ear, thumbing affectionately at your cheek. 
“I’m sorry for scaring you,” you say meekly. 
“That’s okay,” he promises you. “My brother Reggie used to get panic attacks too, when he was younger. I have a bit of practice with them.” 
Sirius doesn’t think it matters how much practice he gets; he’ll always be shit at comforting people, but at least he knows enough to guess what you’ll need now. 
You look at him interestedly. “Really?”
“Mhm,” he says. “Are you tired? We can go back to my place and watch a movie. Or if you just want to go to bed I can take you home.” 
“Your place is good,” you say, letting him take your hand to help you up. Your legs wobble a bit underneath you, and Sirius wraps a hand around your waist, holding you to his side as you start back towards the sidewalk. 
“This okay?” he asks, watching you carefully. 
“Yeah,” you say softly. Your hand worms underneath his arm, sliding around his back in turn. “Yeah, this is good.”
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yournowheregirl · 1 year
Text
Eddie used to be a pretty fearless person.
He ran red lights almost on the daily, provoked his bullies while his bruises from the last run-in were still healing and agreed to shady drug deals in the dead of night.
Having a kid changed all that.
As soon as Hayley was born, Eddie found himself riddled with anxiety every waking moment of the day. Scared to drop her, scared she’d get sick, scared she’d break something, scared that someone’d take her from the playground if he looked away for just one second. Even Wayne had to pry Hayley out of his arms when he had to go back to work and assure him that everything would be fine.
Lucky for Eddie, none of those fears ever came true. Until today.
They’d just gone through Hayley’s night time routine - reading a chapter of that Narnia book Jeff had gotten her, singing her good night song together, kissing her forehead and sharing I love you's - and Eddie’s about to close her bedroom door when Hayley’s squeaky voice suddenly speaks up.
“Dad?”
“Yeah, sweet pea?”
“I wanna join the soccer team.”
And just like that, with six little words, one of Eddie’s personal horrors suddenly becomes a reality.
His daughter is a jock.
“Uh, let’s… let’s talk about that in the morning, okay? Sleep tight!” Eddie says quickly and closes the door behind him.
As soon as he knows Hayley’s fast asleep, he dials one of the two numbers he knows by heart.
“Hello?"
“What have you done to my daughter?” Eddie seethes.
“Well, hi to you too, Eddie.” Chrissy says on the other side of the line. “What’s up?”
“Hayley wants to join the soccer team and it’s all your fault, Chris!” Eddie is pacing up and down his living room now, trying to calm himself down without reaching for his cigarettes - he quit when Hayley was born and this is not going to be the reason that’ll end his seven year streak.
“And how is that my fault, exactly?”
“You- you have poisoned her mind with your jock ways! Hayley isn’t a jock! She likes dragons and castles and fantasy worlds, as is her right as my daughter. I mean, her middle name is Arwen for fuck’s sake, being a nerd is in her goddamn DNA!”
“Okay, Eddie, breathe.” Chrissy says calmly. “Hayley’s always been a curious kid, it’s in her nature. She always wants to try new things and then move on to the next big thing. Remember how she wanted to become a drummer after she saw Gareth play? And then she abandoned the drum kit after two weeks?”
“Right.”
“Maybe this is just another phase, maybe she overheard some classmates and wanted to join in on the fun.” Chrissy says. “Just take her to try outs and see what happens, there’s always a chance she doesn’t like it.”
Eddie lets himself fall onto the couch. He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs in defeat. “Fuck, you’re right.”
“I’m always right, Eddie, how have you not learned this yet?” Chrissy giggles.
Which is how Eddie finds himself waking up at the crack of dawn that next Saturday. Well, he was supposed to sleep in for another thirty minutes or so but Hayley was so excited about try-outs that her high pitched screams and jumping on his bed woke him up regardless.
Hayley’s excitement carries on during breakfast and she barely keeps still as Eddie braids her hair. She’s even dead serious about the color of her hair ties, saying that they have to match the colors of the soccer team (aptly named the Purple Cobras, so obviously the hair ties have to be purple as well).
And any other morning, Eddie is trailing behind his daughter, making sure she hurries up so they’ll get to school on time, but not today. Now, she’s already got her coat on and bouncing from one foot to another in the hallway and calling him out instead.
“Dad, come on!” Hayley whines. “We’re gonna be late.”
“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Eddie huffs as he puts on his trusty leather jacket - if he’s gonna freeze his balls off by being outside all morning, at least he’s gonna do it in style. He can’t help but laugh at Hayley, who’s now jumping up and down from excitement. “Geez, you better save some energy for the try-outs.”
“Can we go now?” Hayley sighs and scrunches her nose in annoyance and yeah, she really is his kid.
“One ride in the Munson Mobile, coming right up!”
Hayley doesn’t shut up about the intricacies of soccer the entire drive to the local soccer club, apparently Chrissy (the traitor) had helped her read up on the rules and now obviously Eddie had to know all about them as well.
Half of what Hayley’s saying flies over his head, partly because he’s never really cared for sports but mostly because he can feel his anxiety growing with every passing second.
What if Hayley gets injured? What if some tackles her and she breaks her leg? Or worse?
What if she is an amazing player and she needs all these fancy soccer supplies and training clinics and Eddie’s forced to get another job to just to keep them afloat?
What if she’s weak at sports, just like Eddie was while growing up, and all the other kids will make fun of her and laugh behind her back?
What if-
“Dad, look, we’re here!”
The van barely comes to a screeching halt and Hayley’s already halfway out the door when Eddie grabs her by the collar and pulls her back into her seat. This obviously annoys Hayley, judging by the furious look on her face. If Eddie was a weaker man, he would’ve cowered in fear, but he invented that look so he barely feels a thing.
“Sweet pea, listen to your dear old dad for a minute, alright?” Eddie says softly. “I know you really wanna be on the soccer team but it’s still okay if you don’t make the team, you know that right? I won’t love you any less if you don’t make it or you don’t like it, just try your best, okay?”
Hayley’s face turns serious, as if the words are slowly sinking in. “Okay.”
“Pinky promise?” Eddie asks, holding out his pinky finger. Within a split second, Hayley’s tiny finger links around him and she sends him a toothy smile.
“Pinky promise.”
“C’mon, let’s kick these kids’ butts!”
Hayley giggles. “You’re supposed to kick the ball, dad.”
“Oh, right, silly me.” Eddie grins and follows his daughter outside.
But right as his anxiety has died down, it comes flooding right back as soon as Eddie lays eyes on the soccer field. There are so many kids. So many balls being kicked at full speed, with no time to duck. So many sneering soccer moms who look at him like he’s the devil incarnate. So many dangers just waiting around the corner and Eddie just want to turn on his heel and run. Hayley’s inevitable temper tantrum be damned, at least she’ll be in one piece and-
“Hayley Arwen Munson?”
Both Eddie and Hayley whip their heads around at the same time, only to be greeted by one of the coaches and shit- Eddie’s suddenly very interested in soccer.
With a chiseled jaw, soft hazel eyes and broad shoulders, the coach looks like he belongs in a Calvin Klein ad rather than a little league soccer field. He’s wearing a wind breaker, white knee socks and bright purple shorts (that cling deliciously tight around his thighs), which shouldn’t work on him but it does and Eddie just can’t look away.
Hayley (thankfully) doesn’t seem to notice his inner turmoil and instead happily waves at Hot Coach. “Over here!”
The coach writes something on the clipboard and walks towards them, crouching down in front of Hayley. “Hi Hayley, I’m coach Steve, nice to meet you. You here to try out for the soccer team?”
“Yes!” Hayley replies brightly.
“Well good, you can say hi to coach Robin and the other girls and I’ll be there in a sec, okay?”
“Okay.” Hayley nods and turns to Eddie. “Bye dad!”
“Hold up, hold up, hold up.” Eddie says quickly, once again grabbing the back of her t-shirt to keep her from running off. He kneels down in front of her, trying to look her in the eye. “Be careful, okay, baby? And if you don’t like it you can just yell and I come and get you, no questions asked. And if your laces get loose, you can yell too, literally if anything goes wrong you can-”
“Dad…” Hayley interrupts him and puts her tiny hand onto his shoulder. “It’s gonna be okay.”
Eddie laughs and ducks his head. God, this is like kindergarten all over again, when Hayley just skipped to Miss Coleman without a care in the world and Eddie was sobbing into Wayne’s shoulder as he watched her go.
“I know it will be, sweet pea.” Eddie says softly, pressing a kiss to Hayley’s forehead. She takes that as her cue to go, skipping across the field towards the gaggle of girls that surround another one of the coaches.
Eddie feels his heart burst as he sees Hayley smiling as she greets the other girls, she seems to fit right in. He sighs deeply and stands up, trying to keep his eyes on Hayley, when a voice suddenly speaks up.
“Arwen.”
“Jesus Christ!” Eddie yelps because shit, he totally forgot that Coach Steve was still there as well. “Yeah, she’s named Arwen. What about it?"
Eddie wants to eat his foot as soon as he utters the words. He’s always been defensive when it comes to Hayley, being a single dad who doesn’t look like your standard suburban dad next door will do that to you. But to do it in front of a cute guy like that? It makes him want to kick himself. Repeatedly.
But much to his surprise, Steve doesn’t seem to mind all that much. In fact, there’s an amused smile playing on his lips. “That’s from Lord of the Rings, right?”
“Uh, yeah.” Eddie replies dumbly. He feels his walls lowering down - holy shit, this Steve guy is hot and he knows Lord of the Rings? If they weren’t around a bunch of kids right now, Eddie would’ve dropped to his knees already.
“Cute.” Steve chuckles and are Eddie’s eyes deceiving him or is Steve actually checking him out? Before he gets a chance to wrap his head around all that, Steve gestures back to the field. “Well, I gotta jet. Soccer waits for no one. See you around, Mr. Munson.”
“Ew, no. Mr. Munson is my dad.” Eddie winces, remembering all the times his neighbor growing up came by to help Wayne out and refuses to call him by his first name. “I’m Eddie.”
“Well then,” Steve smirks as he walks backwards. “see you around, Eddie.”
As Eddie tries to look like a normal human being instead of a total creep - which proves to be terribly difficult when Steve turns around and puts his ass on fully display in those damn shorts - he slowly begins to realize one thing.
Maybe Hayley’s decision to join the soccer team is the best idea she had in a long time.
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daisynik7 · 6 months
Note
Hi are you still doing song requests? If so can you do Make You Feel My Love by Adele for Toji? 🥹 please and thank you ☺️
Make You Feel My Love
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Part Two to Photograph
Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!reader
Word Count: ~2.3k
cw: fluff, explicit language, basically all fluff lol
Summary: Toji Fushiguro is nothing like his previous self. He’s become hardened, almost completely desensitized through the years, being used and abused by his own family, the Zenin clan. After the loss of his first wife, Toji takes his son and decides to finally run away to the only place where he can feel like his true self again: home. There, he reunites with a familiar face. 
Author’s Notes: Thank you for this request for the y2k karaoke party! I thought it’d be perfect as a continuation to this story. I hope you enjoy! Thank you for reading. Divider credits to @/cafekitsune.
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“Zenin?”
Your voice is soft, almost breathless, when you utter his name as he stands between the door frame of your classroom, hands in his pockets, a shy expression on his face. “Uh, yeah. It’s me. I go by Fushiguro now.” 
You look between him and Megumi, spotting the similarities instantly. The jet-black hair, the same-colored eyes, almost identical facial structure. A spitting image of his father, who stands before you, much bigger than when you last saw him, but certainly the same boy who’s grown into a man. There isn’t time to catch up as your students file in, greeting their new classmate politely at his desk. Toji clears his throat, stepping aside to make room for the kids to walk in. “I’ll be back later to pick up the kid, if you want to catch up.”
The kid. You hide your giggles, pleased to hear that he still sounds like the same Toji you knew many years ago. His eyes light up at your laughter; he doesn’t remember the last time he heard a genuine one like yours. Sweet, pure, and music to his ears. 
The bell rings, and that’s his cue to leave. There isn’t much to do throughout the day, considering he is now unemployed. He’s tempted to resort to old habits and head to the racetrack to gamble on horses, but instead, he goes to the public library to use a computer, searching for job openings around the area. The day passes quickly and it’s time for him to pick up Megumi. He waits outside, watching as all the other children run towards their parents, most of whom eye him with wary expressions. He’s gotten used to lingering glances like this, aware of his intimidating presence. It doesn’t bother him anymore; he’s used to being seen as some sort of monster. And with what he’s done during his life as a Zenin, maybe he is. 
Megumi is the last outside, hand-in-hand with you, his teacher. You both give him a wave, your eyes twinkling with kindness and a bright smile. You’re the only one who looks at Toji like this. The only one who sees him as human. When you approach him, he places his hand on Megumi’s head, ruffling his hair. “How was it?” 
His son grins, giving his father a thumbs up. 
“You made some new friends, right Megumi?” you say, squeezing his hand. “What are their names?”
In his squeaky voice, he replies, “Yuji and Nobara.”
Toji smirks. “Friends already? That’s great, bud. I knew you’d like it here.” 
Megumi lets go of you, holding onto his dad’s wrist. “Yuji said he’s getting ice cream down the street with his grandpa. Can we go too?”
“Of course,” Toji responds. He looks to you, tipping his head to the side. “Want to join us?”
~~~
You’re sitting in a booth across from the Fushiguros, who share the biggest chocolate fudge sundae they could order off the menu. Eventually, Megumi spots his new pink-haired friend and asks if they can play at the mini arcade together in the back of the shop, to which Toji agrees, passing him money. Now, you’re alone with him, hundreds of questions you want to ask, but are too nervous to. You sip on your milkshake, unsure where to begin. 
Fortunately, he speaks first. “Did you stay in Tokyo this entire time?” 
You shake your head. “I went to university overseas, then I moved back.”
“Overseas, huh? Sounds fun,” he muses, scooping a big bite into his mouth. 
“How about you? Where did you go?” The last memory you have of him is the distraught look on his face, after you shared a kiss together. The next day, he was gone. 
He licks the back of his spoon, collecting all the chocolate off. “Here and there. But mostly there.”
“You were still in Tokyo?” You try not to sound outraged. Deep down, you’re hurt by the way the two of you parted. And if he was truly here all along, you’re even more upset, knowing he had all this time to apologize. Years and years, you wondered if all the little moments you shared together were just that, or something more. Even now, finally meeting him in the flesh, you’re uncertain where you stand with him. 
He senses your uneasiness, sitting up straight to explain. “The Zenins relocated to a more remote location up in the mountains in order to carry out their dirty deeds. I dropped out of school and started working full time as their lackey. I was often sent to Tokyo for duties.” He spreads his fingers, presenting his hands towards you, calloused and scarred from overwork and guilt. “I’ve done things that I am not proud of. Hurt people that didn’t deserve it. I didn’t want to do it, but at the time, I had no other choice.”
You listen to him intently, sipping on your milkshake slowly, giving him your undivided attention as he continues his story. 
“Me and Megumi’s mom had an arranged marriage. The Zenins wanted me to produce an heir once my father’s health started to decline. She was a kind woman, the closest thing I had to an escape. But still, the both of us were trapped. It didn’t matter that we had each other; we were both under the wills of our families.”
“After a few months of trying, she got pregnant. Our lives felt normal during this time. Like we were a regular family. Me, her, Megumi in her belly. My father left us alone. He wanted to make sure I was taking good care of her so that our son would come out strong and healthy. And he did. He was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” 
Toji takes a deep breath, the both of you anticipating this next part. “It was a home birth, per my father’s request. I should have said something from the start, but I didn’t think anything would go wrong. After Megumi was delivered, the bleeding wouldn’t stop.” He swallows hard, throat tight with emotion. “And by the time the ambulance arrived, she was gone.”
He avoids your gaze, staring hard at the metal container filled with napkins on the side of the table. You’re tempted to reach for his hand, to offer comfort, but you decide against it, deeming it inappropriate. 
“My family couldn’t care less. All that mattered to them is that they had their new heir. They didn’t even cry when she passed away.” His jaw is clenched tight, hands in fists, trembling against the table’s surface. “Heartless bastards, all of them. I should have left with Megumi then, but I didn’t. I was a fucking coward, too scared to face the world alone. And with a little baby at that.”
“Why did you decide to finally leave?” you ask.
“They were going to start training Megumi how to fight. He’s only five-years-old, for fuck’s sake. He’s the gentlest, sweetest kid, and they want him to become like me. I didn’t want that. I don’t want Megumi to have the life I did, not if I can help it.” He unclenches his fists, relaxing into his seat, spooning whatever melted ice cream remains into his mouth. 
You lean forward, resting your elbows on the table. “Why did you decide to come back here?”
He doesn’t respond right away, pretending to be preoccupied with the swirly mess of sweet cream in front of him. He contemplates how best to explain himself. If he admits the truth, it may come off too strong. The reason he’s returned home is because of you. The photo of you and him smiling on the beach a decade ago is in his pocket, wrinkled and faded from years of yearning. He had dreamt of this day ever since he left, hoping the next time you reunite, he’ll be free of the Zenin name. Free to do as he pleases, free to love who he wants. And now that day has come, he’s just as nervous as he expected he'd be. 
Not wanting to make a fool of himself, he says, “I know this area well. Figured it’d be a good place for us to start fresh.” 
You smile at him. “If you and Megumi ever need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask. I’d like to help you in any way I can.”
“Megumi is a good kid. Quiet, but good. He doesn’t give me any trouble, so he makes it easy.”
“So nothing like his father, then?” you tease, raising a brow at him.
He chuckles. “Like I said, I’ll make sure of that.”
You reach for him, resting your hand on top of his. “You’re not all bad. You’re pretty great, remember?”
Instantly, you’re taken back ten years ago, moments before that kiss. Electricity sparks between you; his hand shifts beneath yours, his palm turned up now, fingertips brushing lightly against the delicate skin of your wrist. He gazes at you, smiling. The prominent scar across his lips more titillating than it’s ever been before. “Yeah, I remember.”
Before either of you can do anything more, Megumi returns to the table, head drenched in sweat, breathing heavily. He grabs the water cup on the table, chugging it aggressively, wiping his mouth with the hem of his t-shirt, fresh from a rousing game of Dance Dance Revolution against his new best friend.
~~~
Toji picks up Megumi every single day after school. He’s adamant about it, claiming it’s important for him to spend as much time with his son as possible, something he never experienced growing up. He accepts a job in construction, working early morning shifts in order to be outside the school steps promptly. 
A few nights a week, he invites you to their apartment for dinner, where you help him cook simple recipes like fried rice or noodles, even little treats like rice balls for Megumi’s school snack. This Thursday night, you stay until bedtime, watching from the doorway as Toji tucks in his son, a small grin on his face, studying the way his eyelashes flutter into a deep slumber. Sound asleep, he sneaks out, closing the door quietly.
You check the time on your phone, disappointed that it’s getting late. “I should head home.”
He walks you to the exit. “Megumi is going to Yuji’s house for a sleepover tomorrow night.”
So far, Toji has kept his distance from you, though you’ve notice subtle glances here and there. You haven’t exactly been forward yourself, too nervous to make the first move or misunderstand what could be friendship and nothing more. Toji feels the same way, unsure if his feelings are reciprocated or if you’re simply this nice of a person. Hopefully, it’s both.  
Your heart beats faster, not sure what you’re supposed to do with this information, waiting for him to elaborate. He clears his throat. “I want to take you out to dinner, to thank you for all that you’ve done for us.”
“You really don’t have to.”
“I want to,” he insists, smiling. 
The following night, he arrives at your house, dressed in a flattering button-up and slacks, greeting your parents formally for the first time in over a decade. They remember him fondly, excited to see him all grown-up. He takes you to a restaurant downtown, ordering the most popular items on the menu to share between you, enjoying each other’s company as you always do. After dessert, he invites you to his house for a nightcap, and you’re a little too keen when you agree. While you wait for the water to boil in the tea kettle, you sit beside him on the couch, looking through pictures of him and Megumi on his phone. 
“We went to the beach the first weekend we moved in,” he says, showing a selfie of the two of them sitting on the sand. 
You nudge him in the arm with your elbow. “Remember that school project?”
He grins, leaning into you. “How could I forget?” He glances at your lips, then into your eyes, inching even closer. You gravitate towards him, holding your breath, ready to kiss. Then, the tea kettle whistles, ruining the moment. 
Chuckling, he stands up to remove it from the stove. You sit back into the couch, sighing, body tingling and flustered. He returns shortly with a hot mug of tea in his hands, setting it on the coffee table. “You should let it cool. It’s too hot right now.” He sinks into the cushion beside you, knee brushing yours. 
“Did you like me back? When we first kissed?” It’s one of the many questions still unanswered, and you decide that now is the best time to find out the truth. 
He smiles, grasping your hand gently. “Yes.”
You lock your fingers with his, filling in the spaces seamlessly. “Then why did you lie to me?”
“I didn’t think it’d be safe for you to be associated with me. Not while I was still a Zenin.” He pulls you forward, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders, noses nearly touching now. 
“And where’s the picture of us?” you whisper, nuzzling your nose to his, wanting so badly to close the distance. 
“I took it. I’ve had it this whole time,” he admits, brushing his lips to yours. You kiss him fully, his grip around your waist, no signs of letting you go anytime soon. You make love to each other right there on his couch, your hot tea forgotten on the coffee table, cold by the time you remember it the next morning. 
For the first time in his life, Toji doesn’t feel dangerous. He doesn’t feel like a monster or a threat. As he marvels at your peaceful form cradled delicately in his arms, Toji Fushiguro feels normal. He feels loved.
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winterarmyy · 10 months
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Behind The Facades | Part II
An unrequited pining over a certain super solider.
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Navigation: Part I || Part II || Part III (end)
Words: 3.3k++
Pairings: avenger!bucky x female!reader
Warnings: angst. pent up anger. unspoken jealousy. conflicted feelings.
P/S: i heard you. i got you. since lots of you enjoyed the supposedly oneshot, so i decided to do a continuation for this couple. Hope you enjoy~
Read my other works here: Masterlist
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Weeks gone by, months flown through and the team was already accustomed Bucky's girlfriend wandering around the tower. Though they thought she would move-in eventually, knowing that Tony allowed them to do so, but she hadn't done it yet.
While Y/N, on the other hand, felt like she was constantly walking on thin ice. Being tug in between holding herself together and breaking down.
What's worst about this was, deep down, Y/N wanted to hate her.
Gail Richards.
Bucky's girl.
A gorgeous red-head, sultry champagne-colored eyes, a deep dimple on her right cheek, sculptured body of goddess and heart of gold.
Y/N got to admit that she hated how perfect Gail was for Bucky. She had such a kind soul; it's impossible not to fall for her. In hindsight, she was exactly what Bucky needed in his life.
What he deserve.
And in the end, Gail managed to steal not just Bucky's heart, but also the entire team's.
Including Y/N herself.
The friendship between Gail and Y/N was true and genuine; even if it hurts her everytime when she was forced to see Gail canoodling with the man she had fallen madly in love with.
"So where's the date? Did he tell you or is it a surprise kind of thing?" Gail's questions snapped Y/N from her deep internal thoughts.
Her gaze fell into her own reflection in the mirror; she was fitted with a simple black satin dress, with a quite scandalous slit on one side on her thigh. Standing behind her, was Gail, helping her out with the pearl necklace she was graciously lending it to Y/N.
"I don't remember the name but it's that new michelin star restaurant." Y/N replied as she straighten her dress, suddenly feeling conscious of how tight the dress was hugging her body.
"Oh! I know that fancy new restaurant. It opened last week, right? Bucky and I haven't had the chance to go yet. I heard it's pretty hard to get reservation. I must say, I'm impressed."
While Gail seemed to approve of Y/N's date, she didn't notice the way Y/N's body froze as she mentioned Bucky's name.
Her fingers were itching to dug it's nails somewhere, anywhere; as she try to keep her composure as neutral as possible, "Yeah, I'll definitely give you my review before you guys go on a date there. Who knows if its not up to the standards, right?"
Oh, how desperate she was on wanting to hide her pain away.
"That's great, y/n! But, I'd rather you actually enjoy the date rather than secretly being an undercover food critique. Forget about everything and have fun for once! Who knows this one is a keeper, huh?" Gail rubbed her hands to side of Y/N's arms; her eyes brighten as she encouraged her.
Ignorance is truly a bliss; though it's not that she knows that Y/N had been in love with Bucky this whole time.
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On the other hand, Bucky was starting to feel the effects of what Gail had warned him before. He doesn't want to feel like she doesn't love him because she does.
At least she tries to.
Persuing Gail was not necessarily easy; not because he was lacking or she played hard to get. But because of how honest she was; how self aware she was.
"Being with me is a hell of a challenge, Bucky. My emotions are unpredictable. Today, I will love you ever so truly; I will drown you with all the kisses and cuddles you could ever imagine but the next day you might not being able to talk to me or even see me."
"I'll go M.I.A and isolate myself from the world at any time, with no warning. I shut down without any reason."
"I might not be there for you when you needed me the most. I might abandon you when all you wanted for me to stay."
"Worst part about it is I won't feel sorry for what I did because I can barely feel anything during those time."
But he insisted to try.
Maybe it was the sudden surge of passion when he met her but he was determined that they could make it work.
So, try they did.
As his relationship with Gail progresses, his and y/n's started to astray. He noticed y/n has been keeping her distance with him since he got together with Gail.
She had been cooped up in her room more often. There was a gradual changes in their schedule. Lesser trips to the corndog stall that y/n was obsessed with, canceled trips on visiting Alpine, the cute little kitten they have been eyeing at the adoption center, and almost none of the late night coffee trips.
He missed her.
From her annoying laugh to her odd habit of scratching things in her sleep.
Her smile, her voice, her presence.
He missed all of it.
He missed her.
Which was why Bucky thought it was better to talk it out with her. Maybe there was some sort of misunderstanding that needed to be clear out.
It took just single knock before Bucky intrude himself into Y/N's room, "Hey, y/n I don't want to disturb you but can we..." Bucky's sentence did not managed to end with a period, thus his words was instead left hanging just like his mouth.
"Oh, wow."
For a moment there, Bucky literally forgot how to breath. It was as if the reality around him was deteriorating, leaving just the perfect view of Y/N. For a split second, his gaze seemed to dilated into a trance, slowly getting bewitched by the beauty before him.
Bucky was so captivated by how, almost sinfully, beautiful Y/N looked in that dress, he didn't notice his own girlfriend was standing right next to her.
Gail carefully slide her way towards Bucky as she prompted, "So... what do you think, Buck? Gorgeous isn't she?" A dreamy sigh escaped from Gail's lips as she admire the woman in front of her.
"Yes. Yes, she is."
Those were the words Bucky wanted to say but his mouth wasn't listening to his heart, rather it followed his head, "I didn't know you were coming over, honey." Bucky arms reached towards Gail as he scooped her close to him, placing a soft kiss on her cheek.
It was subtle but if they paid enough attention, they could see how Y/N's gaze quickly shifted downwards to her feet. Her teeth sunk between the insides of her left cheek as an effort to distract herself from the thunderstorm within her chest. A little bit more force on her teeth would've tore her up and left her bleeding from the inside.
How much longer she must be in this torment? How much suffering her heart needs to endure until it adapt to the pain? She's tired of the ache in her chest but at the same time she can't help it when her heart yearn for a love that's never going to be hers.
"Well? Is she not goddamn beautiful?" Gail playfully slapped Bucky's arm, demanding her question to be answered.
"I mean..." Bucky stuttered to find words. Especially when those round doe eyes of Y/N's spark with anticipation.
All those milliseconds of time Bucky had to think of an appropriate, truthful answer but somehow he only come up with, "...i guess, you could do better."
Idiot.
Straight up dumb.
Bucky immediately regret his words when the gleam in Y/N's eyes suddenly faded; turning into something cold and stoic.
Gail huffed in denial, before taking Y/N's side, "Then you sir, need to check your eyes because she's absolutely stunning". Y/N gave a small smile as Gail pulled her for a side hug.
"Why are you dressed up anyway?" Bucky wanted change the topic before he said something stupid again.
There was a noticeable pause on Y/N's side as he asked, as if she was unwilling to tell him. However, the reluctantcy only arouses his curiosity.
Y/N turned around and faced the mirror. As she fixed the necklace near her collarbone, she made an eye contact with Bucky through his reflection and answered, "I have a date."
Something shifted in the air; as if it was getting heavier, sturdier.
"Who's the guy?" Bucky was clearly not amused with the idea. It barely filtered through his stern tone.
"Daniel. One of the SHIELD agent I worked with before." Y/N noticed how his expression morphed into a frown.
"Why is he making that face? "
Bucky seethed, "That douchebag? Really y/n?" There's a hint of disappointment in his voice; like how a father would scold his daughter of doing something stupid.
And that ticked her off.
She's a grown-ass woman; she can do whatever she wants, date whoever she wants. None of it was Bucky's concern.
"What do you mean?" Annoyance flowed through her tone.
Bucky rolled his eyes as he recognized that name.
Daniel.
That scumbag whose always staring at her. And not in a cute, crush-like way. There's nothing innocent about the way he stare at Y/N's ass and boobs, or always finding excuses to touch her.
However, Y/N has been oblivious to it since Bucky had always been with her.
Since when did that douche got close to Y/N? How did he managed to get Y/N agree to go to a fucking date with him? More importantly, how did Bucky not know all of this?
There was this uncontrollable, unexplainable rage within Bucky that he was unable to contain; like a venomous poison it seeped through his head, "Are you that needy to even consider going out with such scum? Come on, y/n. You're being naive, it's ridiculous." Bucky scoffed as his tone laced with scorn and mockery.
Gail gasped in complete shock, "What is wrong with you, Bucky? That's not--"
"That's not fair. How can you have the luxury to fall in love and lived happily ever after while I have to continue to break and break, again and again?"
"Ridiculous? Am I a fucking joke to you, Bucky?!" Y/N could hold back her own anger as she turned towards him. His face remained the way that it is; red and furious and he was not willing to put his ego down either.
"You know what?" Y/N swerved towards the bed, "I am going to go this date with Daniel, whether you like or not..." She took her purse on the edge of the mattress, "...and I am going to enjoy every second of it!"
"Thanks, Gail. I really appreciate your help today." Y/N smiled as she briefly took Gail's hands into hers. Blinking in confusion, Gail replied, "Y-yeah.. sure--" though her speech was cut short when Y/N interrupted.
"And you!" Y/N shot a glare towards Bucky before marching towards him, "You can go fuck yourself." She clashed her shoulders into Bucky's before walking out her own room.
Bucky gritted his teeth; his jaw clenched in pure vexation as his frown grew deeper.
Looking at her very angry looking boyfriend, Gail let out a tired sigh, "Why would you say such thing to her, Bucky?
Why did he say those things?
He could explain it much better way, knowing that he had plausible reason to why he thinks she should not go to this date.
But, why did he not do that?
Why did he lash out and spat those hurtful things to her?
Even Bucky himself was not sure why.
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After that Bucky spent the rest of the night at the gym, and this was the third punching bag that he had completely destroyed. He could see his girlfriend coming in from the corner of his eyes, with an emergency kit in her hand.
She sat at a nearby bench before, "Bucky sweetheart, come here." Gail softly asked him sit with her.
Despite the grunts and gruffs that slipped from his lips, he still obeyed her; though partially was because she had been sternly staring at him.
Gail gently remove his boxing glove of his right hand, then lo and behold his knuckles was crushed and bloodied.
"The wrappings is there for a reason, you know?" She knew he would this; especially when he is guided by rage. Bucky remained silent, knowing that if he did not control his anger first; then he would probably do the same thing he did to Y/N again.
There was a comfortable silence as Gail was tending his wounds. Bucky looked down at her, focusing on cleaning the wounds. She was always careful and tender while handling Bucky; as if she was taking care of a child.
"You love her, don't you?" Gail calmly asked as she started to wrap Bucky's hand.
The question caught him by surprise, "What do you mean?"
She chuckled softly, "y/n. You love her. Am I right?" she reclarify.
It didn't need a genius to figure out how Bucky truly feels about Y/N. Even if he himself if not aware of his own feelings.
But she can see right through him.
She noticed how attentive was Bucky towards y/n. How he looked at her; like she's his whole world. How every single thing he does somehow relates back to Y/N; and he cannot go by a day without mentioning her name in their any conversation. How peaceful looked when y/n is anywhere near him.
She noticed every single one of those detail.
"Of couse, I do. It's y/n we're talking about here." Bucky replied as-matter-of-factly. Though there was some truth in his answer but it was not all.
Gail shook her head lightly as she holds Bucky's wounded hand in hers, "No, Bucky. You love her." Her brows crunched into a pleading curve as her gaze turned gentle.
Bucky frowned in confusion; he looked down at his hand where her thumb caressing his knuckles and he thought back all the moments he spent with y/n.
From the very first day he met her, on those nights she stayed with him, through thick and thin, her eyes on his, her smile on his cheek, her laugh in his arms, her voice in his ears, her skin on left arm, everything flashed through him so fast until a single moment when he realizes.
"I love her."
Gail recognized the glint his eyes, "And she loves you too, Buck." She coaxed.
The frown on his face turned into a shock as she spoke. Even if Y/N does love him, what does that mean?
"What are you saying?"
"Go." Her voice were somehow calmer than she was supposed to speak in such a dire situation.
Bucky knew what she meant; he knew what those eyes were telling him, "Gail, you--"
She cut him before he could say anything, "We did agree to see where will this take us..." her smiled was somehow bitter-sweet, "And I guess this is our end of the line."
A hit of pain struck Bucky's heart, "You don't have to do this." His left hand raised to tenderly cupped her cheeks; it was warm. Unlike his winter cold hand, she was warm. Like the soft heat from the morning sun.
She placed her hand on top of his as she craved a reassuring smile, "I want to."
And that broke Bucky's heart. And it broke for her.
He loved Gail.
All the feelings he felt for her was real. As real as the feelings he felt for Y/N. The only difference was he didn't realized he was in love with Y/N, but he did with Gail.
"And to be honest, I'm not sure I can keep up with the emotional commitments, I'm always M.I.A and lost in my own head..."
As Gail starts to ramble, Bucky wasn't hearing any of it. His eyes stings and his vision blurred.
There was only so much any man can handle.
There was joy in realizing his was in love with Y/N but there was also agony in knowing he had to break Gail's heart. Unable to hold back his emotions anymore, his tears finally broke out.
She was prepared not to cry today but seeing Bucky like this; who wouldn't tear up, right?
"Hey hey hey, I'll be okay. We'll be okay." She placed her palm on Bucky's cheeks, wiping away the tears with her thumb as she lead his gaze to her own.
"Bucky, listen to me. I don't want you feeling like you're alone." she cooed, her eyes had gotten glassy as tears filled within them. "You deserve so much more than what I can offer you, do you understand?" Bucky can simply nod as he feels like his voice will betray him.
"Good." Gail closed her eyes and leaned into a kiss. A soft innocent kiss on his forehead, as their tears fall on each other's bare skin, "Now, go get your girl."
<< Part I || Part III >>
Read my other works here: Masterlist
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A/N: Feel free to leave some feedback behind! And what do you think of Gail? I thought it'd be nice to have a different characteristics for her instead of the cliche 'bitchy and rude' girlfriend.
There's no actual taglist. So, I only include those who reblogged with comments and/or commented on the previous part. However, do tell if you want or do not want to be tagged.
Taglist: @ghostofwinter @angstysebfan @erinallene @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @paarthurnax59 @nomajdetective @kentokaze @dexter99 @nana1000night @prettyinpink350
904 notes · View notes
vioartemis · 1 year
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I'll sit with you in the dark
(Wednesday Addams x fem! childhood friend! reader)
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Summary: You first met Wednesday when you were just kids, and eventually became friend with her. Years later, you meet again at Nevermore... Warnings: none (?) (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)
Wednesday was upset. Her parents were forcing her to go to a new school. Their old school, Nevermore. She hadn't planned on staying long though, a few days in and she would mysteriously disappear.
"Wednesday, this is Enid Sinclair" principal Weems said
"Howdy roomie!"
The blonde girl tried to hug the ravenette, who took a step back. Physical touch. Disgusting.
"Not a hugger, got it"
"Excuse Wednesday" Morticia started " she's allergic to col-"
She was interrupted by someone bursting through the door.
"Fuck yeah I was right!"
"What did we already told you about swearing, young lady?" principal Weems said "I'm sorry for that Mrs Addams. This is-"
"Y/n L/n."
Hearing Wednesday say your name, your lips curled up into a wild smile.
"So you do remember me uh?"
"How could I not?"
You and Wednesday were childhood friends. You met when you were 5. You were in the same class, but you started talking during one of her birthday parties. The one with the piñata filled up with spiders.
While every other kid ran away, you sat on the floor and played with a spider, letting it climb on you, to everyone's surprise.
"Anyways, I'm not gonna stay long or I'll be in trouble. I just wanted to give you this"
You walked up to her, before mumbling intelligible words. A black dahlia appeared in your hand, which you handed to the ravenette. She looked at it for a second with suspicious eyes.
"You can take it, it won't explode this time. I grew it myself. Just teleported it from my dorm"
She finally took the flower after one more look.
"It seems you have improved dear Y/n" Morticia said
You turned around to face her and Gomez.
"Thanks again for the book you gave me, Mrs Addams. It really helped"
While you talked with her parents, Wednesday's eyes didn't leave the flower you gave her. You remembered it was one of her favorites. You remembered your promise to give one to her when you'd meet again. And, most importantly, you were still wearing that bracelet.
She looked back at you, analyzing how you've changed since the last time she saw you. You were different, back in the days. You were cute. A cute little mouse. But now... She wouldn't say you were cute anymore.
She would rather say beautiful. You looked more like a true witch now. Or at least you had the aura of one.
"I am sorry to interrupt, but Wednesday still has a school to visit." reminded Weems "Miss L/n, don't you have anything to do?"
"Ahh yes yes sorry. I'm glad I could meet you again, Mr and Mrs Addams." you turned to face your friend, still smiling "I'll see you around, Wednesday"
The way you said her name made butterflies spiders grow in the ravenette's stomach. And your smile... That smile she didn't think she could see ever again...
After her new roommate showed her the school, Wednesday came back to her dorm. She was taking off the colorful stuff Enid put on the window when you knocked at the door.
"Want some help?" you asked
"It would be appreciated."
You made your way to the window and took off some of the colorful panels. Enid wouldn't be happy about that, but Wednesday and colors didn't really go together.
"How did you know?"
"Hm?"
"You said you were right. Plus you said you grew the dahlia yourself. So I assume you were talking about my arrival here. Am I wrong?"
"I heard someone new was coming. And that they murdered a student in their old school by putting piranhas in the pool. Couldn't be anyone else than you. Plus I had a feeling we'd meet soon."
"I see."
You put the last panel on the floor, not saying a word, as you knew she preferred silence over small talk.
<><><><> ♡ <><><><>
"Yeah but- if I wanted to do that, how much do you think I'll need?"
"Why would you want to do that in the first place??" Enid asked with disgust
"I say if I wanted to, that's hypothetical. We never know what can happen Enid. Better be prepared"
"In what kind of situation would you need to throw a corpse in an acid bath?"
You waved your hand in the air, like you swept her question away.
"That's not important. I just need to know how much acid I'd need"
"Why don't you ask Wednesday? She sure knows the answer"
"Yeah I know. I just- it's basic murder knowledge.. she will be disappointed I don't know that.."
"Why do you care so much about what she thinks of you? You don't have a crush on her, do you?"
You didn't say anything, looking at your feet in embarrassment. You knew what Wednesday thought about romantic relationships. Pathetic, she would say.
"YOU DO!!"
Enid jumped in excitement, clapping her hands, before shaking you slightly back and forth for a second and hugging you tight.
"Enid- I can't breath- and for fuck's sake please keep your voice low..!"
While you were patting the werewolf's back to calm her down, Wednesday was watching you from afar. Oh how she wanted to rip the blonde's head off at this moment.
She clenched her fist so hard that small drops of blood started to fall onto the ground.
Why was she hugging you like that, her body fully pressed against yours? And most importantly, why weren't you doing anything about that?
You were hers.
You were always hugging Enid or other people. But you never tried to hug her. Not that she'd want to. Of course not.
But, maybe, she wanted to know what your body would feel like. How your lips would taste like.
She never thought she'd ever be romantically attracted to someone. But then she met you again, years after you left with you parents.
Obviously she could just confess to you. But even if she would never admit it, she was scared. Scared that you wouldn't share her feelings. That you would leave her. Again.
She liked being alone. But being alone with you... Now that's what she really wanted. But ask her and she will threaten to skin you alive.
<><><><> ♡ <><><><>
A few days had passed since Wednesday saw Rowan getting killed in the forest. No one believed her, as everyone saw him the day after the attack.
You didn't know why she would lie about that, but you saw him too.
You were thinking about all those events, in your bed, incapable of sleeping, when you heard a knock at your door.
You stood up slowly, half dressed, and opened the door.
"Wednesday..? Wha-"
"I need your help."
"It's 3 am...?"
"I know. May I come in?"
"Uhh... sure"
You step to the side.
"What can I help you with?"
"I need you to go in my mind."
"Wha-"
"Find the memory of the attack. I am not lying, Y/n. Plus you could see what the monster looks like."
"I-" you sighed "Okay, let's do that"
You lit some candles and put them into a circle, leaving space in the middle for you to sit. Fortunately, your roommate wasn't here...
You gestured her to sit in front of you.
"I'll need to hold your hands, if that's okay for you"
She nodded, letting you take her hands in yours. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, before entering her mind.
Wow. Her mind was really organized. The memory will be easier to find that way.
You found it pretty quickly, and practically jumped when you saw the monster. God it was ugly. You rewatched the scene a few times, just to be sure Rowan didn't have any chance to survive this.
Having someone looking into her mind was quite strange for Wednesday. She didn't know what to expect before coming, and now that's she was here she didn't know what to think of it.
She could feel where you were looking in her mind. Couldn't explain it, but she felt it. So she was a bit surprised when she felt you looking at what she thought of you.
She didn't let go of your hands though. No. She let you watch whatever you wanted. She wanted you to see what you meant to her. What she would do for you.
You quickly went out of her mind after seeing all of that, trying not to blush and quite ashamed of yourself. Spying on people's thoughts was really not something you approved, but at the moment you just couldn't help it.
"I- I'm sorry I-" you stooped a second "I saw things I wasn't supposed to look at.. I- I saw you were interested in some witchcraft stuff..? What about you go in my mind and look at what you want to know..?"
Oh so you were lying now. Interesting, Wednesday thought.
You weren't aware of the fact that people could feel where you looked in their mind, that's why you lied. Plus you didn't know how she would've reacted if you confronted her directly.
"I only have visions, Y/n. I am not a psychic."
"I know, I'll just project my mind into yours, if you're interested by-"
"Fine."
You blinked twice, surprised by her fast reply, before closing your eyes once again and projecting your mind into her own.
Contrary to Wednesday's mind, yours was a mess. Some thoughts were bigger than others, some were hiding, jumping (?), running away or just lying there like they were dying.
One of the biggest thoughts she could see was your witchcraft knowledge, which wasn't much of a surprise. The other big thought was, to her surprise, her.
Before she could realize it, she was already reviewing memories of you two. But not only that. She saw the moment you realized you fell for her.
On the other hand, you had no idea where she was looking in your mind. As she wasn’t in your mind, but in a projection of your mind, you couldn't feel anything.
Eventually, she came out of your mind, a slight smirk on her face, knowing you wanted her as bad as she wanted you.
She slowly approached you, taking advantage of your still closed eyes, your hands still in hers. Feeling movement, you opened your eyes, just as she sat on your lap.
"Wednesday what are yo-"
"Shh, we've lost enough time, don't you think, Cara Mia?"
You were a blushing mess. She was so close to you your lips almost touched. You could feel her breath on your lips when she murmured:
"Dame un beso, mi amor"
You spoke enough spanish to understand what she wanted, and kissed her within a second. The ravenette cupped your cheeks, lips not leaving yours, as your hands made their way up to her waist.
She pulled away after a moment, staying only inches away from your face, looking directly into your gorgeous e/c eyes.
"I hope you understand that I am not going to bring any light in your life, mi amor”
"I don't need you to light up my world" you smiled "I'll sit with you in the dark."
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anathemaspeaks · 10 days
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dandelion wishes
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character(s): shoto todoroki synopsis: always the bridesmaid, never the bride - isn't that how the saying goes? my name is momo yaoyorozu, and in my case, it's true. word count: 1.3k warning(s): none a/n: not my best work, but here you go anon :) likes, follows, and reblogs are appreciated <3
this is all from momo's point of view.
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it happened at my birthday party, a day after i turned 16.
kaminari managed to somehow smuggle booze into the house. still teenagers and drunk off the excitement more than the liquor, someone suggested we play 7 minutes in heaven. everyone cheered in agreement - except bakugou, of course. he opted to stay sober and make sure we don't have too much fun.
after a few uneventful rounds, it was finally my turn to spin the bottle. i wished it would land on shoto. this was my chance to tell him how i feel about him. maybe he'd say something back? well, a girl can dream...right?
my heart hammered in my chest as i gripped the bottle, spinning it on the polished wooden floor. every spin felt like an eternity until it finally landed with a decisive click. i traced the path of the neck, breath catching in my throat as i saw it pointed directly at todoroki. this was it. this was my chance.
we awkwardly shuffled towards the closet, the door creaking shut behind us, the dim light casting shadows on the wall. before i could calm my nerves and speak, todoroki blurted
"listen, about the spin…" his voice was uncharacteristically soft, almost hesitant.
"yeah?" i forced a nonchalant reply, inhaling to try and calm my nerves. he ran a hand through his dual-colored hair, a faint blush creeping up his neck.
"actually, there's someone i... well, someone i kind of like." a sheepish grin tugged at the corner of his lips. it felt like the wind got knocked out of my lungs. my eyes darted around the cramped space, landing on a crumpled magazine lying forgotten on the floor.
"oh, cool," i choked out, my voice barely above a whisper, "who is it?"
"y/n" he mumbled, a shy smile on his lips. the name rang in my ears, shattering my painted dreams of a chance with shoto. i forced a smile. maybe y/n wouldn't have walked out of this closet with a shattered heart hidden behind a forced smile.
of course it was her. her smile could light up a whole room, kindness radiating from her like sunshine. she was effortlessly beautiful. she was everything i couldn't be. pretty, funny, and kind - how could i ever compete with that? a pang of jealousy, sharp and unwanted, twisted in my gut.
my gaze flickered to shoto's shy smile, and the way his eyes seemed to light up just at the mere mention of her. a hollow ache settled in my chest, envy so deep it felt like a barbed wire wrapped around my heart.
shoto's turn. when the bottle stopped spinning, it landed on y/n. because of course it did.
they emerged from the closet looking like a tornado had hit them. clothes askew, hair a mess, and faces flushed with a kind of unspoken ecstasy that left little to guess.
the next day, they walked into class hand-in-hand. it was official.
today marks 2 years since that day.
over this period, they became the textbook definition of the perfect couple. they were disgustingly cute. sneaky, affectionate glances in the middle of lectures, whispered jokes that erupted in shared laughter, their hands seemingly glued together.
shoto ever-stoic todoroki, weak for y/n. he'd wrap his arm casually around her waist, brush stray hairs from her face with a lingering touch, and steal kisses during training breaks. it was a side of him no one had ever seen - a shoto who wore his heart on his sleeve. for her.
here i was, stuck watching their picture-perfect love story unfold, a constant reminder of the confession that will forever remain trapped on my tongue.
we were sprawled across mina's living room floor, empty pizza boxes scattered around like confetti, and a half-eaten bag of chips resting precariously on a mountain of rom-comes. the topic, just like a normal beginning to a girls' night, was boys.
"boys are the worst!" mina declared, prompting a chorus of agreement from everyone.
"mine just left his gym socks under the bed again. seriously, how hard is it to use a laundry basket?" uraraka chimed in.
just then, y/n came in from the kitchen with a bag of marshmallows and sat down next to us. well, she wouldn't be participating in the complaining.
"look who finally decided to grace us with her presence," i teased, nudging her playfully.
"so, how are things going with the ice king, anyways?" asked jirou.
she blushed a bit. "oh, the usual. he's amazing, and he's surprisingly..." she trailed off, a sly smile on her face.
"surprisingly...?" mina prompted.
"let's just say his quirk isn't the only thing that's hot and cold."
the room erupted in laughter and whoops for her. i forced a smile, feeling an all too familiar pang in my stomach.
the conversation continued, everyone chiming in with their recent stories about boys. including y/n. every detail felt like a knife to my heart. 'that should've been me' i thought. i pushed it away. i wouldn't let my jealousy get the best of me.
they all seemed so happy, while i was stuck on the sidelines, yearning to feel their joy. we all fell asleep in that room while watching movies and gossiping, a smile on everyone's faces. i still couldn't help but feel a little bitter.
now we all have finally graduated. we decided to still meet up every saturday for dinner, and this week, it was at todoroki's. the familiar buzz of anticipation and excitement filled the house as we all talked about our first week after graduating.
then, shoto and y/n walked in hand-in-hand.
"hi everyone!" greeted y/n, smile so bright she was contagious.
"sit wherever you're comfortable, dinner will be ready soon" announced shoto.
"but before that, there's something we have to tell you." she was practically shaking in eagerness.
todoroki cleared his throat, a faint blush creeping up his neck. "we, uh, well…" he fumbled for words, a rare sight for the usually composed half-and-half king. she squeezed his hand reassuringly.
"we got married!" she blurted out, a wide grin splitting her face.
the air crackled with shock. wide eyes, dropped jaws, and a silence followed the announcement.
"wait, married?!" kaminari finally found his voice, his eyes wide with surprise. "but you guys are only eighteen!"
todoroki chuckled, a sound rarely heard before y/n. "we know," he admitted, a hint of shyness lingering in his voice. "but we knew what we wanted, and well, here we are!"
and then, as if a dam had broken, the group erupted. mina squealed, launching herself at y/n in a bone-crushing hug. kirishima gave todoroki a hearty back slap, nearly knocking him over. uraraka, tears welling in her eyes, showered them both with congratulations.
"dumb brats, you're gonna regret this!" yelled bakugou. but i saw him turn away and wipe away a falling tear. both y/n and shoto engulfed him in a hug. he threatened to burn their arms off if they did it again.
congratulations continued, hugs going all around. the surprise announcement had cast a whole new light on their evening. it was a celebration not just of friendship and graduation, but of a love story that had blossomed within the very walls of U.A.
married. at eighteen. the words echoed in the hollow space where my confession had died. cheers rained down on them, a cruel confetti shower on my silent tears. my wish for him was as futile as willing a dandelion's wispy white petals not to fly away with the wind.
they were a love story written in stolen glances and secret touches, a masterpiece i could only watch unfold from the sidelines - a happy ever after that couldn't be mine.
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to the anon who requested this, i know you wanted it to be more angsty so i tried to make it as vengeful as i could, i hope you like it! <3 (i accidentally deleted the ask I'M SO SORRY ILY)
please send in requests everyone 🫶
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