#this one's been nearly done and in my drafts for a while | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yueebby · 5 months

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4:36am – gojo satoru

synopsis. satoru is dying (he has a fever) and he needs his darling wife (you) to nurse him back to health

contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo, even in sickness gojo can still flirt, he yaps a lot abt marriage and he’s kind of perverted, but he’s just so in love why dont you just give him one chance?

notes. i tried to make this very shoujo-esque. cant have a good shoujo anime without a fever episode! this has also been sitting in my drafts for a hot minute. enjoy yet another fic of me showering satoru with affection (sigh).

the cold wooden floors of your dormitory creak underneath your waddling feet. your sleepy haze does not deter you from the strong desire for a cold glass of water.

surprisingly, the usual dark communal kitchen is illuminated by the small lightbulb inside of the fridge. you hear shuffling of some items from the white icebox, removing any ounce of sleepiness from you. it was unusual for anyone to be up at four in the morning.

a tuft of white hair peeks over the refrigerator door, giving the culprit’s identity away.

“satoru? i thought you were still on that mission in sendai?”

the sounds of digging pauses. satoru’s rises to his full height, towering over the rundown refrigerator door. he gives you a crooked smile that you rarely see. it’s dopier than one of his signature cocky smiles.

“missed me? don’t worry, i tried to speed run it since i knew i had such a beautiful woman waiting for me back home.”

you placed a hand on your hip, scoffing at his pathetic attempts to flatter you. a snarky response was about to fall from your lips, but a series of painful coughs from the lanky male stopped you.

you recoil back to avoid his germs. “gross. are you sick?”

satoru sniffles, pointing his nose in the air. the same nose that was starting to turn pink from irritation. “i can’t get sick. it’s physically impossible.”

“don’t be stubborn, satoru. why didn’t you call for help?”

he huffs, eyes trained to the floor. “it’s too early. shoko’ll kill me for waking her up.”

sometimes you forget that satoru had an image to uphold. he was the great gojo satoru, after all.

but if you don’t take care of him, then who will? and despite your disdain at the thought of coddling his ego, it was only basic decency to take care of a fellow peer (or that was what you’d like to convince yourself).

silently, you place the back of your hand to his forehead. you’re not surprised by the warm sensation that you feel.

satoru’s hazy eyes watch as you move your hand from his forehead to his cheek.

you purse your lips in concern. with the way satoru was stubbornly denying that he wasn’t sick, you were nearly certain that he was indeed not fine. without warning, you grab the collar of his white t-shirt and pull him to your room.

“at least take me out to dinner before~”

“shut it.”

it wasn’t hard to get satoru to settle in your bed. in fact, he seemed giddy at the opportunity. while he was happy cuddling with your rilakkuma plushie, you came to two conclusions: either satoru had a wound from his mission that got infected, or he was simply sick.

knowing his pride, you lean towards the former.

the boy in question winces when you grab his shoulders to inspect the damage done to him. the sounds of furious pats and heavy breathing is the only thing you can hear over your rapidly beating heart as your hands run down his body to check for any injuries. satoru sucks in his breath when your hands cup his cheeks to loll his head to check for any damages done to that pretty face of his.

his body tensing up doesn’t go unnoticed by you. your imposing hands immediately retract, afraid of inflicting any more damage on him.

“where is the wound?!” your frantic eyes meet his blissed out ones.

satoru sighs happily, lazily grabbing your hands to bring back onto him, “there isn’t one, this just feels nice.”

your chest angrily puffs up before you shove him into your soft mattress. he grunts, but you know it didn’t hurt.

“[name]!” he whines, rubbing the arm that cushioned his fall.

you cross your arms angrily, “you scared me!”

gojo mimics your actions, crossing his arms while weakly glaring at you. his efforts to intimidate you prove futile as he shivers uncontrollably, resembling a newborn kitten.

sighing, you delve into your closet, emerging with an oversized black sweatshirt that you toss to him.

he catches it with ease, a chuckle escaping while he inspects the sweater, “i never took you for the type to wear this.”

“....that’s not mine.” you give a nod in the direction of the men’s sweater. the sparkle of amusement vanished from satoru's eyes, coinciding with his jaw dropping.

his grip on the dark sweatshirt tightened while his head darted back and forth from you to the clothing item. “then whose is it?!”

“suguru’s.”

you think that you’ve broken him when his face scrunches up in disgust. it’s laughable how his mouth had managed to stay wide open the entire time.

“sugu-suguru?!” he splutters. you slowly nod, careful not to make any sudden movements that could provoke him any further. “why– how– explain yourself!”

you cast an uneasy glance at the sweater, finding it challenging to summon any recollections of how you obtained it, especially with satoru's piercing cerulean eyes fixed on you. his scrutinizing stare has the power to reduce you into a puddle.

“well? go on,” he urges you when you stay silent.

“it’s nothing, really. i believe it was from that mission i had with suguru a while back. somewhere up north. i had packed light and suguru offered me his sweater.” you tap a finger on your chin to recall the memory. “i guess it just slipped my mind to return it.”

“slipped your mind, huh…” satoru sniffles before letting out a sneeze loud enough to wake up japan. you nearly jump out of your skin.

“suguru was just being friendly… and be quiet! yaga will have our heads if he finds you in the girls’ wing!” you warn the weary boy in front of you, prompting him to respond with a dramatic sigh.

“how mean!” he whines before making a pained expression. you quickly rush to his aid. when you make it to his bedside, satoru weakly hands you a clean tissue.

you stare at it blankly.

“be a darling and help me blow my nose?” he gestures for you to hold the tissue up for him. all you can hear are muffled whines when you shove him underneath your plush covers.

when your flurry of attacks ends, he cautiously lifts his head from beneath the sheets. to his surprise, a steaming bowl of bitter melon miso soup is presented to him. while the broth isn't your personal favorite, shoko appreciates its bold flavor, spurring your decision to prepare it the night prior. despite its bitter components, the concoction had a perfect track record of treating illnesses. you have your brown haired friend to thank.

perhaps it was cruel of you to take enjoyment while he eyes the bowl in horror. you know his sweet palate couldn’t handle it.

he looks up at you with big pleading eyes while shaking his head. you roll your eyes.

“c’mon, it won’t kill you.” the bowl inches closer to him by your doing. “please?”

satoru's pallid complexion contorts into a hesitant frown. "i’ll eat it…” he concedes reluctantly. however, his gaze lingers on the bowl with a mixture of uncertainty and reluctance. you respond with a hopeful smile, but it fades when he adds, "on two conditions."

“this is for your own health, not mine satoru.” you remind him.

“doesn’t it pain you to see me suffer?” he brings up, eyes glittering in the darkness.

you suck in a breath. “...not really.” lie.

“you wound me, love.” he clutches his shirt like he has been critically hit.

you bite your lip, tired of his theatrics. “what are the two conditions?”

just like that, gojo comes back to life.

“condition number one! you have to feed me.” he points one finger into the air, paired with an innocent smile. “and two: i want you to warm me up like that night in our first year.”

an unflattering appalled expression is cast over your face. no words leave your mouth for a good minute. “y-you’re disgusting. why are you the way you are?”

“love,” he sighs. “anyways, what kind of wife wouldn’t feed her husband while he’s dying?”

“satoru,” you warn. he was starting to babble nonsense again. “if i accept your conditions, will you shut up?” your eyes were starting to feel heavy. it was the middle of the night, after all.

he nods fervently.

carefully with the bowl of soup in hand, you gently squish yourself next to satoru on your full sized bed. the tight fit left you little room to move, forcing the two of you to nestle closely to each other. with a gentle maneuver, you rest your head on his chest. his arm slowly drapes itself protectively over your shoulder.

“your heart is beating awfully fast.” you whisper, tilting your head upward to take a glimpse of satoru’s feverish face. his breath hitches.

he takes a hand and holds your head back onto his chest to prevent your movement.

“shut it. i didn’t think you would actually accept my conditions.” he mumbles.

“don’t get used to it. this is another moment of weakness.”

you stir the spoon in the broth, basking in the silence of the night, save for satoru’s erratic heartbeat.

“this is very intimate isn’t it?” he gushes. “it’s almost like we’re married—”

“keep your side of the deal,” you remind him, lifting a spoonful of broth up to his mouth. satoru looks straight into your eyes as he opens his mouth to receive it.

his adam's apple bobs when he swallows, “i’m going to tell our grandkids that we were written in the stars.”

you shove another spoonful of soup into his mouth.

extra notes

satoru magically recovered from his fever the next morning.

his second condition (for you to warm him up like that night in your first year) refers to this fic from earlier on in the series.

satoru also made you promise to never accept another hoodie from suguru. if you needed one, satoru was more than willing to give you his! (you halfheartedly agree, only because he was acting all delirious because of his fever).

as of right now, there have only been three occasions where satoru has fallen asleep in your presence. he can testify that those were the best nights of sleep in his life.

shoko went into your room for a spare pair of stockings the next morning only to find you tucked into gojo’s chest. she chases him out of your room all while calling him a pervert . bless her heart.

#kt.writes.·:*¨༺#remember spring days!au #rsd!au #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x you #gojou satoru x reader #jjk fluff #gojou satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk x reader #gojou x reader #gojou satoru x y/n #satoru gojo x reader

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imrllytootiredforthis · 1 month

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The ‘bad’ kind of desire

pairing: soobin x reader

synopsis: you can't touch him, because he's too innocent, too sweet. but god you wish you could.

warnings: implied fem reader (can't remember if it's outright said), dom reader, sub soobin, masturbation, fingering, lowkey corruption kink, mentioned mommy kink, think that's really it

a/n: the first portion of this fic has been in my drafts since roughly july last year and was in my notes app for a few months - at least - longer than that so don't even ask me how old this really is, but at least it's out!!😭

“Am I bad person?”

Beomgyu scoffs, looking at you with eyebrows raised. He nearly laughs at the ridiculous statement coming from your mouth.

"What?"

And that makes him lose it, unable to even hold it back as he barks out a laugh, looking at you as if you've grown a second head.

It’s a hard thing to fathom coming from you given that you’ve definitely never had any qualms about your morality when it comes to this kind of stuff. “Really? You’re asking me that?”

His best friend sits across the room, oblivious to the conversation, his headphones pulled over his ears, the game he’s playing flashing on the computer screen in front of him.

Soobin.

Sweet sweet Soobin, messy blonde hair left unbrushed, pajamas still on, not bothering to change as this was all he was planning to do all day.

Sweet Soobin who you can’t help but want to play with.

Who you can’t help but imagine how pretty he’d look with tears in his eyes.

"I'm not fucking around Gyu-am I a bad person?"

You groan and flop over on the couch, rolling over to rest your head in Beomgyu’s lap, looking up at him with a comically-in his opinion-concerned expression.

He gives you nothing but an exaggerated eye-roll. "Don't even start."

“But aren’t I?” You look again at the boy across the room, wondering why, why he had to be so stupidly adorable. His lips were twisted into a small pout and why it was so fucking cute.

Why? You wondered, feeling like this was all you were doing nowadays.

Beomgyu resists the urge to roll his eyes at you for the second time in a row, now at the way that you look at his best friend like some kind of lovesick fool, especially considering that all you really wanted was get into his pants. It didn’t really make sense, but hey, who was he to judge?

“Why? Just because you want to rock his shit? Step on him and make him cry? That makes you question your morality? Out of everything that you've done?”

You gasp, slapping his chest. “He’s right there.” You hiss, not exactly denying the words.

He ignores that, shoving you off of him. He knows as well as you do that those headphones are the expensive noise cancelling ones that he'd gotten from you last Christmas. He barely hear himself yelling at his online teammates much less your hushed conversation.

You look at him as if you want to take him out on a nice picnic date and let him lay his head in your lap while playing with his hair pointing at clouds. Which Beomgyu couldn’t really see in any world, you were never really the type.

But who knows? Maybe you were really just that eager for his dick at this point-or the more probable scenario-have him on your dick, that it broke something inside you.

“Why’re you so concerned now? Not like you had any issues with Yeonjun or Taehyun. Hell, you kept up everyone else in the dorms,” His voice goes higher as he attempts to poorly mock his roommates. “‘Y/N, more~’ ‘please, I need it-need y-‘“

“Shut the hell up.” You spit, quickly covering his mouth with your hand while your eyes flicker once more to him, still staring intently at his game.

Really, why were you so concerned now?

Beomgyu was right. You’d had no problem doing the same to them, to Tae and Yeonjun, but they were different-he was different.

Soobin was different than any of them. They were the product of having fun with someone you knew like the back of your hand and vice versa. Simply satisfying-albeit unimportant-a matter of getting your rocks off with people you knew could find your clit and would let you hit it from the back.

Soobin was Soobin though. The sweet boy who looked at you with the most innocent smile.

Who got all blushy and embarrassed when you so much as lightly and non-vulgarly flirted with him.

He’d squeak and duck his head away when you called him bunny - again, non-vulgarly, trying to hide the fact that he was blushing and it turned him on-just a little bit.

In other words, painfully obviously, it was clear.

“He’s a virgin!” You hiss, hand still clamped over his mouth despite his garbled reply. You know just as well as Beomgyu knows how bitchless his friend is. Despite the fact that offers for him were nearly endless he was too shy, too awkward to accept said advances. “-I can’t take that away from him, it needs to be special, it needs-“

Your hand, still over his mouth is touched by something warm and wet and you shriek, pulling away quickly with a look of disgusted horror. “Are you serious right now?”

“Fight me bitch, I will not hesitate.” He growls, looking triumphant with the fact that you’ve now backed up to the edge of the couch.

You roll your eyes at him, looking once again at Soobin.

Fuck, why does he have to be so adorably innocent?

Beomgyu rolls his eyes, wiping at his mouth. "Just trust me, he'd be happy to be used by you. He might be a virgin, but he's nowhere near innocent."

"And what do you mean by that?" You sit against the arm of the couch, wiping Beomgyu's saliva onto the cushions.

He lets out a dry laugh, glancing back at Soobin before reaching for the previously forgotten remote control. "It means he wouldn't be as freaked as you think he would be if he found your sex toy collection."

—-

You suppose Soobin had always been special in some sort of way.

Always there over the span of time that you'd known all of them. Sitting off to the side while you hung out with the others. In his own room while you were fucking around with his other roommates. Playing his game while you were hanging out with Gyu.

He'd caught your eye more than once or twice, or three times over the years.

He was hot. You'd never discount that. Hot in the loser-y, adorable, cute, corruptible kind of way.

But then again, that kind of was your type if you thought about it.

You'd never been particularly close with him like you'd been with the others. He'd never made much effort to hang out with you but he was there when all the others were, if not one-on-one.

And he got really, really embarrassed when you tried to flirt with him like you did the others.

You didn't mind much, you'd just come under the impression that he was kind of scared of women. Which was also kind of cute.

But Beomgyu was right when he'd said that you'd never cared much about morals in the first place.

It didn't matter how close of friends or if they were a virgin or whatever other silly things that made things like that 'trivial'.

Life was too short to pretend you didn't feel things and besides. Sometimes, you really, just...didn't care.

And it wasn't personal, when you wanted someone, you would pursue it and if there was now friend groups you'd single handedly broken up, well they'd clearly made it personal themselves because you always made it very clear that there was no feelings involved.

Besides the raw, hot tension that made your skin tingle like your nerves were livewire.

Soobin was different though, special.

You felt bad for wanting him. For wanting to dirty him up.

He was something pure, something beyond and above you, perhaps and that was something you weren't willing to ruin, no matter what Beomgyu told you.

—-

"Fuck," he panted, "please,"

The room was dark, the light of his laptop being the only thing illuminating his face.

"Please,"

Sounds filled his ears through the crappy pair he'd owned for years, refusing to get wireless ones.

"Please."

"Bet you fucking like that, don't you?" The voice, only a few octaves higher than your own, still sent shivers down his spine.

Close enough.

"You're a such a dirty slut, you know?"

He whined into his sleeve, a sweater paw pressed over his mouth to keep the moans at bay. "I'm sorry, no, no please I'm sorry~" It wasn't doing a very good job muffling his voice though.

"I need it~"

The video seemed to respond to his desperate pleas. "If you need it so fucking bad then you'll be a good boy and wait for mommy's permission. You hear me?"

Or maybe he'd just watched this video so many times he'd memorized all of the male counterpart's lines. "Yes mommy," he panted, "I'll be good, I-I'll wait for your permission!"

He wouldn't. He knew he wouldn't.

He couldn't, as much as he prided himself on being a good boy. This time he knew he wouldn't even make it through the seven minute and thirty-two second video.

Not with you in the next room.

He couldn't tell if you were with Yeonjun or Taehyun. It didn't really matter either way.

Because he would only focus on you.

You weren't loud, having endured enough of Beomgyu's teasing and gripes about your sexual habits. He decided he hated Beomgyu for that.

But he could hear your pants through the paper-thin walls, heavy and followed by your quiet praises. "Sweet boy," you cooed, just as the porn on his laptop continued, "Naughty boy, such a messy little-" He ripped the earbuds out mid-sentence.

He wanted to hear you.

Not some substitute for the real thing.

He could imagine if you walked it on him right now.

Laying spread out on his bed, pants not even all the way off-just messily pulled below his hips, just enough for his dick to breathe properly and for his hand to easily slide up and down with the amount of pre-cum leaking from the tip.

"Fucking please." He moaned, quiet and needy.

You'd see him a mess, his soaked through sleeves catching the drool from his lips, teeth biting into the soft fabric to keep from crying out too loud.

You'd see him shamelessly fucking up into his fist, calling out pleas with no one there to hear him.

"C'mon baby, you can take it, take it all for me." Your voice was accompanied by the wet sounds of what, Soobin wasn't completely sure but his mind quickly conjured a few different theories. "That's it, a little more~"

Fuck him, he wished you were speaking to him.

Cockwarming him, your pussy wrapped around his dick, warm and wet and squeezing around him so good. Fluttering kisses over his face and throat as you teased along the length of him, slowly lifting up just to agonizingly sink back down onto him, clenching tight while he moaned into a kiss.

Or stroking him to another orgasm, making him cum again and again until his body was shaking and tears streaming down his cheeks. Telling him he could take more, do it one more time, for you. Because whatever pain you'd inflict would be worth it, after all it was your hands doing the damage.

"Fuck you look so pretty like this, just makes me wanna fucking wreck you. Turn you into a mindless whore on my dick."

Fuck, so that was what it was.

His mind managed to come up with one more picture through the haze.

You'd have his wrists pinned over his head with one hand, over him, keeping him down with a surprising amount of strength.

God, he could imagine the way you'd look at him. Maybe you'd be kind and gentle, sweet words and a sweet hand, fulfilling every one of his fantasies while calling him your sweet little bunny.

Like you were with whoever you were with on the other side of that wall.

But he doubted it. Or, he hoped not at least.

In his head you'd be meaner, crueler. Look at him with dark, hungry eyes and watch in a sadistic sort of glee when he cried, when he whined, when he begged and pleaded for more.

You'd thrust into him, hard and punishing, slowing down just to make sure that he wasn't crying from serious pain before you'd slam your hips against his, driving the tip of the toy dead into his prostate.

He'd beg you, plead you to slow down, to be nicer to him.

You'd tell him no. Tell him to be a good boy, voice patronizing and low, tell him only good boys get rewards.

God, that’s what he needed right now.

Needed you.

Your words, your touch, your scent, your presence even. You eyes on him, watching as he fell apart.

Not you fucking someone else in a different room.

Liquid heat flowed through his body, scorching and consuming every coherent thought.

"More."

He imagined it was you. Your hands all over him, pressing up against his throat, fondling his balls, purposely, maliciously ignoring where he needed to be touched most while you drove into him over and over and over until he was screaming in ecstasy.

It wasn’t enough, not nearly

"You just love my cock, don't you angel? Love being fucked by me into a mindless whore?"

He silently cracked the lube open, lathering his fingers in it before letting them drift lower.

He'd done this before, but it had been awhile and the stretch was beyond overwhelming with your words ringing through the wall.

“You’re just a little angel, aren’t you, bunny?” And he pressed a finger inside, thrusting shallowly, breath picking up as you got louder.

"No, you're not an angel. You're a fucking whore, taking it like you were made for it, huh?" A second finger, following the first, scissoring himself open with a quiet gasp.

"Yeah? Fuck, is that it?" You laugh and he swears it's right in his ear, ringing through his head. "'m gonna make you scream for me baby,"

He whines in frustration, his fingers not deep enough - you not deep enough inside of him. No, he needs it deeper, harder.

More.

"Get on top of me baby, ride me," you mutter, so far but so close.

He can imagine, as he settles on his knees, that the pillow he straddles is you. That his legs are around your hips. That his fingers, positioning on the bed under him is your dick and your hands are pressing against his hips, holding him in place.

"You're mine, you hear that? Mine. My perfect little slut, taking my cock like a pretty little slut." His body trembles, eyes rolling back as he slowly sinks down onto three fingers.

"Your's." He moans in reply.

And finally, finally, he reaches his prostate, hitting it head on with his fingers.

Stars burst behind his eyelids as they slip shut, back arching into the intrusion. He could cry, he thinks distantly that he maybe is.

But it doesn't matter.

Because your hands are on his hips, controlling his movements, leading him the way you want him to ride your cock.

Up,

"Slut." You whisper.

and down,

"Whore." You lean up, teeth nipping at his neck but not hard enough to leave marks.

over,

"Baby," Breathing over the shell of his ear.

and over,

"Good boy~" Teasingly biting at his earlobe.

harder,

"Bunny," Kissing along his jaw.

faster,

"Mine." Across his cheek.

deeper.

Just barely there, ghosting across his lips-

"-Cum for me baby,"

And he does. With his mouth hung open, drool covered sleeve long forgotten over. With his eyebrows furrowed and body curled into itself, fingers pressed against his prostate.

Ropes of cum covering his chest, and his face. Some reaching his lips and his chin, staining his skin and landing in his open mouth.

"Fuck,"

And on the other side of the wall, "Good boy,"

a/n: i was thinking about making a part two but honestly if it took me a year to find the inspiration to finish this one, i'm not sure a second one will ever come out😭

#soobin x reader #soobin smut #sub txt #txt x reader #txt smut #sub!txt #sub kpop #sub idol #sub!soobin #sub soobin #afab reader #dom reader #dom!reader

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matrixbearer2024 · 3 months

Text

Troubles Unforeseen

Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader

A/N: Wowowowow- I did not realize my story would be so well received hahaha, I'm honestly grateful you guys like it so much. Anyways- here's the loooong awaited continuation to the series and I hope you all enjoy this installment as much as you've enjoyed the past ones. Happy reading!

A/N: To say this was looong overdue is a friggin understatement since it's literally just been chilling in my drafts like no one's business hahahaha. I'm posting it now so people can start writing ideas about what to do after Reader dies, but go ahead and feel free to keep posting HCs about Reader still being alive. It's an AU at this point and I'll keep writing about it like one HAHAHAHA!

To say Vox paid more attention to you now was slightly an understatement.

You were both practically connected by the hip digitally.

Even your friend group noticed how much time you'd spent just chatting whoever was on the receiving end of your shenanigans.

Not that they knew what kind of peculiar situation was always on the other side of the screen.

In fact, Vox was aware he probably should've been paying more attention to the meeting he was in-

It just so happens that you interested him more than any typical business ever could.

All the more when you'd told him you were getting ready for a party.

"It's just a birthday celebration Vox, it's not like I'm going to a club or anything."

"If there's any booze try not to get shitfaced, or will you drive yourself there?"

You could only giggle at his worry, taking a glance at your phone as it continued to buzz from his messages.

You clipped on the new earrings you'd bought just a few days ago to go with your outfit.

Even if you had gone shopping with your friends-

You still sent Vox pictures, asking what look he preferred.

He was in the middle of spying on Alastor when you once again swiped up all his attention.

Aaaaaand he actually thought you looked great in all of the outfits.

A warm feeling spread through him upon seeing your cheeky grin and silly poses.

Ah whatever, at this point it was nothing new.

But he did finally end up picking the one which bore a striking resemblance to his color scheme.

You didn't even notice at first when you bought the outfit.

Only when you saw the small desktop companion Vox made for you while doing assignments did you realize the subconscious decision your overlord buddy had made.

You teased him about it for a while too, much to his chagrin.

"I'll be with my friends, you don't have anything to worry about."

"The same friends that caused how we met? Doll, I have every right to be concerned."

Vox had nothing against the chaotic nature of your friends.

After all they always brought out the best-

And the worst-

In you, no matter what you were doing.

Even so, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was very... off.

Like an ominous shadow just looming over his shoulder.

He didn't make any mention of it though, thinking he was just being paranoid.

Besides, he didn't want to rain on your parade.

You'd gone the whole nine yards to pretty yourself up for the party.

He wouldn't want your efforts to be in vain.

Vox felt a twinge of jealousy towards the fact others would be able to admire how nice you were in real time, he only had pictures.

Wait what-

Okay, there was definitely something still wrong with him.

"I might not be as active for a few hours because of the party so go and actually focus on the things you gotta do."

"Are you insinuating that I don't do that already?"

"When you spam memes and talk to me nearly all the time can you blame me for not thinking you're always distracted?"

Vox mumbled cursed under his breath, rolling his eyes and glancing back up to check if the boring meeting was over.

Ugh... were they even halfway done discussing this shit?

"Yeah whatever, enjoy your party dollface. Don't get too hammered."

"Hahaha love you too dumbass, I'll keep you updated."

The overlord glitched slightly reading your reply.

His stomach definitely did a flip when he first saw what you typed.

Vox already knew it was probably just a: "I love you as a really close friend" thing-

But that didn't stop his systems from freaking out about it anyhow.

He decided it would be best to stop thinking about it anyways, placing his phone down and finally placing his attention back on the meeting.

Like it should've been the entire time-

Vox didn't really give a fuck though.

On your end, you were going to be picked up by your friends before you all headed to the party.

You guys decided it would be smarter to carpool so most of you guys could actually drink and unwind.

"Heeeeey bitch! Wow! Your outfit slays!"

You rolled your eyes before climbing into shotgun.

"I had some help picking out the look, any good?"

"(Y/N) you are going to break necks with how fast heads will turn, are you kidding me??"

That just reminded you of something Vox said when you showed him the pictures of your completed outfit.

'They're going to turn their heads so fast it'll give them whiplash! You look stunning darling!'

Vox's knack for petnames sometimes embarrassed you, especially when it sometimes seemed a little more than friendly.

Though- that was probably not the case, he was just being the charming idiot TV telecaster that he was with his sweet talk.

You often caught yourself wondering if he ever meant his words, or if it was just the persona Vox played up.

You partly hoped he meant it, even if you didn't know why.

That was until the not-so-subtle snickering of your friends popped the thought bubble you were in.

"Ooookay, what's so funny?"

"Who are you thinking about~? That digital 'friend' of yours?"

You audibly groaned from the situation your friends were insinuating.

They never really believed that you were just chatting with a friend when you were on the phone with Vox.

Despite the multiple times you'd blatantly mentioned that he really was just that.

A friend, a companion-

He wasn't supposed to be anything more than that right?

A blush was creeping up your neck as your friends continued to prod and tease at you for it, fanning your own face slightly to try and calm down the raging embarrassment.

Of course, it would always be fun and games-

Until it wasn't.

Everything happened so fast.

You were just joking with your friends in one moment-

And now you were coughing up blood in the next.

You remembered your friends screaming, some bright headlights, the brakes screeching then metal crunching.

You couldn't even move.

The entire front of the car had been shoved backwards into the front seats.

Even if the paramedics got here in time, you doubted they could save you.

The coppery tang of blood stained your tongue.

You'd gotten all dolled up for the party too.

It's unfortunate that now you'd never be able to go.

Heh... you probably wouldn't even be able to get drunk now either.

Wait-

Oh shit-

Vox!!

You wanted to reach for your phone but both your arms were fucked up in the crash.

The only thing you could really move was your head.

Even then, darkness was already starting to creep into your vision.

It didn't matter how valiantly you fought to keep your eyes open.

You lost too much blood, by the time the paramedics had arrived-

They announced you dead and took you away in a body bag.

The lower half of you had gotten entirely mangled from the accident that you surviving seemed bleak to begin with.

You thought you were done for when you closed your eyes for the final time.

Only when you opened them again- you were somewhere else entirely.

What...?

The skies were blood red, there was practically fire and murder everywhere you turned-

And oh ew- it even smelled like rotten burning corpses.

Where the fuck were you??

Was this supposed to be hell???

You carefully wandered around, hesitating here and there before stumbling across a large building.

Hazbin Hotel...?

Huh, you had no where else to go.

Might as well give it a shot.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin vox x reader #vox x you #Get Off My Screen Series

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 6 months

Text

The Turkey Baster Experiment

Summary: Her cousin just had a baby via turkey baster, supposedly. Robin had to find out if it actually works. Based on this.

A continuation of me cleaning out my drafts.

1990, Chicago, Illinois

The Rockie Harrison Apartment (named in combination of all of their names)

It was Robin and Eddie's day off of work, so they were busy lounging in their pajamas watching Scooby-Doo. Their partners hadn't been so lucky. Steve was working as a middle school teacher, so of course, he didn't have a day off during the week. Vickie was working in a library at a different school, unfortunately, while she worked on also publishing her own book. Eddie worked as a mechanic. Robin worked at a bakery while also tutoring kids with their Spanish and French on the side. Some of them were rich kids, so occasionally, she could afford to take a few days off like she was now.

"You're such a Velma," Eddie said with a shake of his curls.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Robin said. "Velma is very cute."

"That would make Vickie Daphne?" Eddie asked.

"Duh, she can be such a Daphne sometimes," Robin grinned fondly.

"Steve is such a Fred," Eddie sighed dreamily.

"You're definitely a Shaggy," she said. "And the kids are definitely all Scooby."

"Robin. . .I'm feeling that empty nest thingy again!" Eddie exclaimed and pouted.

"It has been almost a year since they've graduated, and we moved here. Weeks since they've called us. It's not like we practically raised them or anything," Robin pouted. "Do you think they've forgotten about us?"

After the kids graduated high school, Steve and Robin decided to move to Chicago with their partners, who were happy to move anywhere as long as it wasn't Hawkins. It was in Chicago that they found a lovely abandoned old firehouse. It took some TLC, but it was liveable, and it housed them all perfectly. Plus, Eddie loved the pole that went down to the first floor, specifically when Steve used it as a stripper pole. Vickie and Robin had vowed never to use it once they learned what they did with it.

"Rob, they're in college now. El, Lucas, and Max are starting this new relationship. Will and Mike are still dancing around each other since Will broke up with Gareth. They're probably really busy," Eddie shrugged and then paused to wail, "They have forgotten about us!"

Suddenly, the phone rang, and Robin nearly broke her neck, jumping over the back of the couch to answer it.

"Oh, hey, mom," Robin said.

Eddie sighed and crossed his arms, pouting in his seat.

"Darn kids," Eddie muttered.

He focused on the show as Robin talked with her mother. Occasionally, he lifted his head when he heard Robin gasp about something. When the phone call was done, the episode of Scooby-Doo was finished, and another one was starting.

"What was that about?" Eddie asked Robin.

"My cousin finally had a baby. Although she didn't tell anyone that she was pregnant and it's crazy how she got pregnant in the first place," Robin said.

"Not the normal way?" Eddie asked in surprise.

"Well, she and her husband have been trying to have a baby for a while, but it hasn't happened, so she decided to take matters into her own hands," Robin said.

"She fucked another guy?!" Eddie gasped.

"Nope," she said.

"She fucked another girl?" Eddie asked in confusion.

"Dingus! No! She used a turkey baster and get this: she didn't use her husband's sperm to do it. She used his brother's!" Robin exclaimed.

"There's no fucking way," Eddie scoffed.

"She did. Her husband only found out because he went to the doctor and discovered he couldn't have kids," she said. "She told him the truth when he confronted her."

"No, not that. There's no way she got pregnant using a turkey baster," Eddie said.

"She did!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Didn't."

"Did."

"Didn't!"

"I'll prove it," Robin said.

"Fucking how?" Eddie asked.

"You have a turkey baster of your own. You should be able to understand the concept of how she did it," Robin said, narrowing her eyes at him.

"No, I mean how the fuck are you going to prove it?" Eddie asked.

"Well, we have a turkey baster, and I happen to be ovulating," Robin said.

"Okay, so what happens if you do get pregnant?" Eddie asked.

"Then you get a baby like you and Steve have been talking about," Robin said. "Although Vickie's been kind of broody lately too."

"So, this kid would have two moms and two dads?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah," Robin said.

"This kid is either going to be the queerest kid ever, or we're all so queer that they're going to be the straightest person alive," Eddie snickered.

"Either way, because of us, they'll be the fast talking son in the west," Robin said.

"It could be a girl," Eddie said.

"No, it's play on words for - never mind. Are we doing this or not?" Robin asked.

"Hmm, maybe Steve and Vickie are right. Maybe we shouldn't hang out without them," Eddie said.

"Coward," Robin said.

Eddie and Robin stared at each other for a while. Eddie glared at her.

"Do it," Eddie said.

"You're up first, big guy," Robin said.

"Right."

Robin gave him a cup and shoved him into the bathroom. She waited rather impatiently outside the door. A couple of minutes later, she heard him groan in frustration.

"Problems? Just think about Steve at the beach when he ate that vanilla ice cream cone, and it started dripping into his sweaty, hairy beast of a chest, but instead of you gawking at him like an idiot, you reach over and start licking - "

"Okay, it's up! Stop helping!" Eddie shrieked.

Eddie glared at her when he walked out of the room and handed her the cup. She took it, and the turkey baster into the restroom, her head held high. He leaned against the wall, smirking when he heard Robin complain loudly.

"Well, if I didn't know I was a lesbian before this, this is definitely what would turn me. Disgusting!" Robin exclaimed.

"I've heard no complaints from Steve when he swallows!" Eddie exclaimed cheerfully.

"Gah!" Robin exclaimed as she came out of the bathroom. "It's done."

"Now what?" He asked.

"Now we wait," Robin said.

She threw herself down on the couch, turned herself upside down, and threw her legs over the back of the couch.

"What are you doing?" Eddie asked.

"Helping your little guys find their way," Robin said. "Plus, it's a cool way to watch Scooby-Doo."

Eddie shrugged and copied what she did.

"Now, we wait," Eddie said.

An uncertain amount of weeks later. . .

Eddie was alone in the apartment while Vickie took Robin to a doctor's appointment. Steve was at work. Eddie was working on writing music when the door to the apartment burst open. Vickie stared at Eddie while Robin stood nervously behind her.

"Did you get my girlfriend pregnant?" Vickie asked.

"It was her idea! She seduced me!" Eddie said.

"How?!" Vickie asked.

"She called me a coward!" He exclaimed.

Vickie giggled and threw herself at him, hugging him tightly.

"It's hard to stay mad at the mother and father of my child even if it was reckless of you guys," Vickie laughed again. "Just wait until Steve comes home."

"Oh God, Steve," Eddie realized, his face pale.

Eddie waited around nervously for Steve to come home. When he finally did, he walked in with a smile on his face. Oh good, he had a decent day. . . It was a decent day that Eddie was probably about to ruin. He walked up to Steve, greeting him with a tight hug and a kiss. He snuggled into Steve’s side, his cheek pressed against his. Eddie traced patterns in his chest.

"Hi," Steve said, looking at him in confusion.

"So, how mad would you be at me if I got your platonic soulmate pregnant?" Eddie asked.

"What is this now?" Steve asked with wide eyes.

"Robin's cousin got pregnant by turkey baster, and I called bullshit on that, then Robin wanted to prove it. I jerked off into a cup, and Robin squirted it up her hoo-ha with the turkey baster. Then, several weeks later, here we are," Eddie said and paused. "So, how was your day, sweetheart?"

Steve sighed and rubbed his face with his hands, trying to wrap his head around Eddie's ridiculous description of the situation. He walked into the kitchen, grabbed a beer from the fridge, and plopped down at the table.

"So, how are you feeling about this?" Steve asked Vickie and Robin.

"Excited," Vickie grinned. "We're all going to be parents."

"So, all four of us, huh?" Steve asked.

"Yes," Robin said.

"We're having a baby," he said softly, and then he grinned. "We're having a baby!"

"Three bisexuals, a lesbian, and a baby!" Eddie exclaimed, and they all looked at him. "What? Spock directed that film."

Steve laughed, pulled him into his lap, and kissed him.

"I'm happy this happened, but maybe next time you want to get Robin pregnant, maybe get all of us involved," Steve grinned.

"Hey, I was just trying to prove Robin wrong," Eddie said and smiled softly. "I'm glad I was the one who was wrong."

"I just realized this baby is going to part Robin and Eddie," Steve said.

"Oh god!" Vickie laughed.

"Hey! You guys are supposed to love us!" Eddie exclaimed.

"This baby is going to kick the shit out of me, aren't they?" Robin asked, holding her stomach.

Several months later. . . after many shenanigans during which Robin discovered that she could use Steve and Eddie as her willing puppets. . .

"Wednesday, huh?" Steve asked as he held the baby in his arms.

"You said we couldn't name her after a Scooby-Doo character," Eddie said defensively.

"Besides, you always said you love Wednesday because she reminds you of Max," Robin said.

"I'm not complaining, I love the name," Steve said grinning.

Wednesday Elizabeth Munson-Buckley had started arriving sometime during the middle of the night, much to Robin's annoyance. She had been busy sleeping. Wednesday had arrived that afternoon, surrounded by doctors and all of her parents. Now, here they were in Robin's hospital room, with Eddie and Vickie cooing over Steve’s shoulder.

"You did great, baby," Vickie said tearfully. "She's beautiful."

Vickie kissed Robin deeply before going back to gazing at the baby.

"You want to go next, don't you?" Robin asked her girlfriend.

"What?" Vickie asked.

"If we ever decide to give Wednesday a sibling, you want to be the one that's pregnant, don't you?" She asked in amusement.

"Ooh, both her and Steve could go next," Eddie said.

"Let's just see how this one goes," Steve said, laughing. "But probably."

"Oh, I called Uncle Wayne. He cried like, well, a baby when I told him I wanted to give her a w name in honor of him. He's going to call everyone else and let them know. So, we're probably going to have a full house sometime in the next few days," Eddie said.

Steve grinned and passed the baby back off to Robin. She smiled and stroked the top of Wednesday's head.

"Oh, I want her to have the whole world," Robin said.

"So, you want her to be an evil super villain hellbent on world domination?" Eddie asked.

"It's what she deserves," she said.

"She'll succeed where men have failed," Eddie said proudly.

"Yeah, that's a no," Steve scoffed.

"We're just keeping her options open, Stevie," Eddie said.

"It's not set in stone," Robin said. "We're just letting her know that we'll love her no matter what."

"I'm not supporting our daughter becoming a super villain," Vickie laughed.

"I guess we know who the fun parents are," Eddie said.

It certainly wasn't an everyday situation, and most people would call it abnormal, but to the four of them and the people they loved, it wasn't so strange. Wednesday would grow up to be well loved with four supportive parents and with an extended family to match. Stranger things have happened than a child growing up loved and isn't that the most important thing of all. . . That the child was loved?

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stromblessed · 6 months

Text

Mizu's spectacles, and the levels of her disguise

In drafting some more Blue Eye Samurai meta posts, I find myself writing out the comparisons between what Mizu can and cannot hide about herself, and how that affects how she moves through the world.

Like, I get the jokes about Mizu's glasses, if only color contacts had existed back then, etc. etc., and I think (hope) that most viewers don't take the glasses jokes seriously, as in "I don't care about the suspension of disbelief because BES is a cartoon." But I wanted to write these thoughts out anyway without burying them in a text post about something else.

I think the points I'm going to lay out here are viewed very differently by different people, so please feel free to add to this post, reply, or put your thoughts in the tags!

Not only do Mizu's glasses not actually help her that much, there's surely more to Mizu's mixed race appearance than just the color of her eyes.

In my view, this was pointed out in episode 1:

I'm willing to bet most of us were expecting young Taigen to say "blue eyes," not "ROUND eyes."

Obviously this is still about Mizu's eyes, but not even spectacles can hide their shape.

I don't think the show is obligated to point out everything about Mizu's face that isn't quite as Japanese as the people around her expect. Though the creators have said that they specifically designed Mizu - and her clothes - to read both as "white" and as "Japanese," as well as both male and female. I think there's more about Mizu's features that read as "white" than just her eyes.

This is where my own headcanons start entering the picture, but it's my impression that people can just tell that Mizu looks different, whether or not they can put a finger on exactly how.

There's the little girl who looks at Mizu and then hides on the way into Kyoto:

When there's more to your face you'd like to cover up than just your eyes, big hats are a big help!

By the way, most of these examples have to come from the first half of the season, since by the second half, either Mizu is too preoccupied with fighting henchmen, or everyone Mizu is facing knows who she is already, and she therefore has no reason to hide her mixed race identity.

It's worth mentioning that the mere fact that Mizu has to hide multiple aspects of her identity - her mixed race and her sex - results in her having to choose clothes that really, really cover her up, which doesn't win her any favors either:

(Zatoichi reference, anyone?)

If it were as easy as, for example, tying her glasses to her head and wa-lah, nobody would ever know she was half-white - then (1) Mizu would've just done that long ago, and (2) Mizu wouldn't be so on guard and on tenterhooks 100% of the time the way she's depicted in the show, even when her glasses are on.

Her spectacles sure don't help her in the brothel, which is full of observant women who are trying to seduce her, meaning they get good long looks at her:

Mizu never takes her glasses off, but they still send a woman to her who has light eyes, thinking that must be what will interest a blue-eyed man:

No wonder Mizu gets mad after this, lol

So Mizu never takes her spectacles off in the brothel, it's dimly lit inside, and the women can still tell that she has blue eyes. I'm getting the sense that Mizu putting on her spectacles isn't a guarantee that people suddenly can't tell that she looks different.

And yet no one spots that she's female.

Mizu can hide her breasts, can wear her hair in the right style, can hide what's between her legs, can walk and talk and behave like a man - and she's been doing it for almost her entire life, to the point that not only is she very good at it, but the threat of being found out as female is deadly, but isn't presented in the show as omnipresent.

Let me explain.

She threatens Ringo for nearly saying the word "girl" out loud, because while she's constantly ostracized for being mixed race, being a woman traveling without a chaperone, carrying a sword, and disguised as a man will get her killed or flogged or arrested or some combination of these things.

But in addition, it's been drilled into her since she was a child that if she is discovered as female, the combination of her being mixed race and female will identify her as someone extremely specific, someone known to some bad people, and she will be killed:

I think of it as Mizu thinking to herself, "Being found out as mixed race means I'm treated badly. Being found out as mixed race and a woman means I'm dead."

Mizu's hair is cut as a child. But she isn't made to wear a big hat, or cover her eyes somehow, or anything like that. Because hiding her sex is a more successful endeavor than hiding her race.

Ringo finds out she's female by accident, but once Mizu accepts the fact that he won't rat her out, she relaxes pretty early on in the season. Because the threat of being found out as female is mitigated pretty much 99.9%, since Mizu has gotten so good at being a man. And also, because most of the time, people see what they want to see. Even if Mizu's face makes her stand out as "not 100% Japanese," no one in the world of BES looks at Mizu's clothes, her bearing, her sword, hears her voice, and will ever in a million years conclude that she is a woman, because expectations around gender roles in the Edo period were so rigid and so widely enforced.

One detail that proved this to me is after the Four Fangs fight:

Ringo takes off Mizu's clothes so he can stitch her up, then leaves her clothes off even after he's done. He doesn't even throw her cloak over her as a blanket or anything. There's a little a straw (pallet?) as a divider there on the left, but anyone could just peek around it and see Mizu and her chest bindings. (I think it's mostly there as a windbreaker.)

And Taigen is right there, but he doesn't give a shit:

Opinions probably vary hugely on this, but my impression is that because the show doesn't make any kind of deal about Taigen being in the room with Mizu here, my guess is that Mizu isn't in any danger of Taigen thinking she's female. Even when I watched the show for the first time, I assumed that Taigen had seen Mizu out of her clothes here, and that he thought nothing of it.

Eat your heart out, Li Shang (Mulan 1998). I actually do think that this scene is a direct and purposeful side-eye to that movie, lol

There's obviously some nuance to how "severe" being mixed race is compared to how "severe" being a woman is for Mizu:

After all, Swordfather can't bear to listen to Mizu confess to being a woman.

So a Japanese man can go wherever he wants, whenever he wants in BES. A Japanese woman has limited options: marriage, religion, or a brothel. A mixed-race man is an eyesore in this story. A mixed-race woman is a death sentence.

May as well eliminate the female aspect, and do what you can about the mixed-race aspect. Because that's just realistic.

Meaning Mizu can avoid the strictures Edo society places on women. But she can't avoid the repercussions that come with being mixed race. And I truly don't think that it's just because "there's no brown contacts yet."

#blue eye samurai #mizu #racism #bes #I am truly disappointed that we didnt get absolute confirmation that Taigen saw Mizus bound chest and just didnt think it was a big deal #but I still think that scene is making a point #again I dont think most people take the glasses jokes seriously #but its been bothering me ever since I first saw them #I really dont think Mizu just looks like a 100 percent Japanese person...... with blue eyes #and I bet that will be made even more obvious when she goes to London where Im sure she will meet plenty of people #who are more than happy to point out their observations to her #also I ran out of room in this post to go into it but this is also what made Mizus marriage an absolutely doomed prospect #Mikio talks about wanting to find the right creature for his lord and well... a mixed race woman is the right creature huh #he just needed a little push imo #getting kind of sad at the thought that Ringo is the only person in Mizus life who knows her whole identity AND accepts it wholly

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nickfowlerrr · 7 months

Text

your forever is all that i need.

pairing: max burnett x curvy!reader

warnings: angst! smut! some fluff! 18+ ONLY. kinda soft!dark max if you squint. warnings not exhaustive but if something needs to be tagged, pls lmk!

words: 7.8k

notes: this guy has been sitting in my drafts waiting to be finished for months and i finally got it done. i think i like it 🥲 i hope you will, too! please let me know what you think. 🖤

thank you in advance for reading. as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome and so appreciated.

You keep your head down, the baseball cap you’re wearing pulled low to aid your attempt at keeping your face concealed. The duffel bag you keep a tight grip on swings slightly with each step you take down the long, empty hallway of the apartment complex.

You reach the door leading to the stairwell and make your way down the steps until you finally get to ground level.

Pushing the lone metal door open ever so slightly, you peek out and make sure you’re still in the clear. No one's around. You walk through and head straight for the gate that leads you out to the parking garage.

You can feel your heart racing, your adrenaline pumping as you cross the lot. Lines of cars, but not another soul in sight.

You get the urge to look back over your shoulder as you walk but you fight against it and keep on to the car.

You’ve missed his call twice already and you just need to get out of the city before you can muster up the courage to call him back..

You unlock the doors with the click of a button as you approach. Your eyes leave the car for maybe two seconds as you pass a large cement pillar, looking down to fish your phone out of the deep pocket of your coat.

There’s a blur in your peripheral.

You look back up, your heart seizes in your chest, and you gasp as you halt in your path.

You suddenly find yourself mere inches from him as he stands before you, his gaze harsh as he stares daggers into you.

His jaw is set, eyes dark as you do nothing but stare back stupidly. Where did he come from?

"Fuck, Max," you say with a heavy breath, "you scared the hell outta me."

You try and calm yourself, playing it cool. You wait for him to respond, to say something, but he doesn't. The pit in your stomach only grows deeper at his silence.

You lift your phone in your hand, doing a show of waving it at him, "I was just about to call you," you lie effortlessly.

Still, he says nothing. Eyes narrowing as he takes you in, his gaze falling to the bag in your hand.

You swallow your nerves, praying he doesn't notice, as you step to him. His hands are in his pockets as he stands tall, still looking down at your own. Your gaze is set on him, not for a second straying from his face as you stand before him, nearly pressing yourself against him; trying to search his eyes, urging him to meet your own.

When he finally does, a shiver runs down your spine, though you're not sure of its cause.

Fear, worry, or maybe just the proximity to him that you hadn't had in a while.

Maybe something else...

His eyes are nearly black with how blown out his pupils are and the intensity of his gaze has you even more taken aback than you were a moment ago.

You can't let it show, though.

"Hi," you draw out, brows raised in faux confusion. As if you have no idea why he's acting so off. But of course you do.

He must know.

God, of course he knows.

But he hasn’t said anything. So still, you keep up the charade.

You drop the duffle lightly and wrap your arms around him as you look up at him. You're so close, so much so that you couldn't possibly get any closer - but that doesn't stop you from trying as you lean up on your tiptoes, chin tilted upward with a delicate pout playing on your lips.

He eyes you, his hands still in his pockets as he does nothing but watch.

You brush your lips against his softly, not expecting him to kiss back - and he doesn't - but he doesn't stop you, either.

You deflate, despite the expectedness of his lack of response, and let your feet meet the ground again as you tilt your head innocently at him, arms still wrapped around him.

"Max," you scoff lightly, a hint of a question in your tone. "Hey, I'm sorry I missed your call, but I really was just about to call you back," you try to defend yourself.

He stares for another unnerving moment before finally he responds,

"Calls," he corrects harshly. "Plural."

Your lips part as if you're going to speak, but you don't. Instead, you pull away from him, your brows furrowing. You let your eyes scan over his face, trying to assess him.

"Why does that sound accusatory?" you ask, letting your taken offense be known.

"What's in the bag?" he asks sharply, ignoring your question.

You stare one another down for a long moment. The thundering of your heart only grows louder in your ears as you do.

You were nervous before, scared more of what you were planning than of what his reaction would be to it. You didn’t want to tell him face to face, not because you thought he’d be truly upset but because you knew you’d back out if given the chance - whether Max cared or not.

But he was here now.

And he's upset?

If he knows, then is this him trying to… stop you?

If it is, great.

You're fucked.

Your plan is completely and totally fucked.

All of this, or at least the courage you had to attempt it, hinged on the fact that you wouldn’t have to see him, to be this close to him, again.

Your willpower around Max was near nothing and you knew that.

Maybe you could just take your bag and go. Would he really try all that hard to keep you here? You doubted it.

You both move in the same instant, but he's faster.

As you were reaching to grab the bag, Max planted a heavy foot on it, keeping it on the ground and out of your hands.

Your eyes dart from his shoe back up to his face. You take a deep breath as you stand straight and keep his gaze.

Well damn. It’s starting to seem like he cares.

But still, you need to get out, you remind yourself.

You can work this. There's always a way out.

You aren't thinking a plan through, not fully, you just start talking. It’s instinct. Stay in character. Never give yourself away.

He taught you that.

"I was just gonna open it for you," you say, aggrieved.

You stay still as he slowly reaches down to grab the duffle himself, his eyes never leaving you.

You watch him right back, refusing to let your discontent show.

All that’s in there is what little personal belongings and clothes you have. It doesn’t mean or prove anything. Can’t confirm or deny whatever it is he thinks you were planning on doing.

And maybe, well maybe you don’t have to go… You can just pretend this never happened. Prove him wrong and keep up like you had no intention to leave in the first place.

Fuck, it hasn’t been a minute and you’re losing it already.

"Well," you prompt him, "open it."

He considers you and you take note of the way he grips the bag in his hand, his knuckles nearly white, his hand is clenched so hard.

"Go to the car."

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at his command and move to walk to your car before his voice stops you.

"No," he grits out, "my car."

You look over in the direction he motions toward and see it, the sleek black Benz you somehow missed is parked across the way, but still on. You glance back to Max and he's already walking to it. You know you don't have a choice, not really, so you follow.

He throws your bag into the back and suddenly turns on you when you get closer, stopping you from rounding the car to get in on the passenger side.

You find your back pressed up against the vehicle as he closes in on you, jolting you a bit as he pushes you back, stealing the air from your lungs. He rips the hat off your head and throws it on the ground carelessly as he nearly snarls his words.

"How stupid do you think I am, huh?"

Your mind goes completely blank as you're stunned.

You've never seen Max this angry before, his apathy - though you hated it - was the norm. Or had been for the last six months or so. You hadn't seen him react to anything with any real care at all, not even you, in about as long. And never had you seen a real reaction from him to such a degree as this.

His anger and proximity were the only things you could focus on. That and the scent of his cologne that was invading your senses. Vaguely you register the longing for him that you’d been suppressing, the familiar scent you’d missed since having been away from him making you a bit dizzy as he crowded you.

"You know I know every trick in the book. I'm the one who taught them to you. So who are you trying to hide from? Who are you trying to run from? Because if I didn't know any better, angel, I'd think it was me." His hand is on your chin as he holds your face, his other planted next to your head as he keeps you against the car. "But I know better, don't I, baby," he smirks coldly.

You blink, lost in the torrent storms of his blue eyes, before forcing yourself to nod.

"Say it," he seethes, smile gone just as quickly as it had appeared.

"You know better," you say obediently in a near whisper as your chest brushes against his with your every breath.

He nods, leaning in closer, resting his forehead against your own for the briefest of moments before placing a chaste kiss on your skin as you shudder at the contact. His lips are by your ear now as he exhales heavily through his nose, "So do you," he tsks before dropping his hands and taking a step back as you stay where you are, eyes wide.

After a second, he motions with his head, signaling for you to move. He lets his tongue wet his lips and sniffs, "Get in."

You do as you're told, no arguing. There's no point.

You fall to him.

You’ll fall to him every time.

The second you close the car door behind you, Max peels out of the garage.

You look in the side mirror as your hat, the car, and your foolish plan to leave alone all slowly fade away.

You buckle yourself in as he speeds down the street.

You could chide yourself for your stupidity but, you really weren't all that stupid about this. You kind of knew, deep down, he'd know; that he'd see it coming a mile away. You just really didn't think he'd care.

You thought he had stopped caring a while ago. That he’d just let you go.

It was a simple plan. You'd just finished the job, Max had the money. You were supposed to meet up with him back home, the closest thing to one you'd had, and get resettled. For the time being, at least.

But you had other things in mind.

Your stage apartment, the place you'd been living for almost half a year now, didn't hold much - but neither did your duffle bag. Just the necessities. Always.

You cleared out nicely, still had the old car Max got for the job, and had enough cash to get out of the city and to last you for a while while you'd try to get settled somewhere new.

You had enough practice being someone different, becoming someone else for the sake of the job, you were sure starting fresh away from here would be easy compared to what you'd been doing the past three years.

And you were sure Max wouldn't care. He'd certainly given you that impression.

That he was over you. That he couldn’t care less.

You were tired. and sad. and lonely.

You never thought you could feel that way with him. It tore at you, the hurt threatened to dismantle you completely.

He was so close, but so, so far.

That’s what hurt the most.

He was right there, but he acted like you weren’t. You thought you’d done something wrong at first. You still remember the first night you kissed him and he just… didn’t kiss back.

You pretended you didn’t notice his lack of reciprocation but you quickly whispered a goodnight before you eventually cried yourself to sleep while he stayed out in the living room on his laptop.

He didn’t even bother to mutter a goodnight back.

With each month it only got worse.

He’d stop by your apartment less and less and would always be out when you tried to stop by his.

You realized maybe you hadn’t done anything, maybe he was just done with you. But he didn’t end things. No, he needed you. For now, at least. Until you finished the job, or maybe until he stumbled onto someone new.

You remember all he told you about his old partners. He was burned once and he’d be damned if he ever let that happen again.

You’d taken his face in your hands, peering into the depths of his deep blue eyes and swore to him he’d never have to worry about that with you.

And you were keeping your promise, weren’t you? You hadn’t tried to screw him over. You finished the job, made sure he got the score. All you were doing was leaving him to his own devices, the way he clearly preferred it. If anything, you were doing him a favor. Seeing yourself out so he wouldn’t have to end things himself.

Because, really, what were you supposed to do if not leave and put you both out of your misery? You couldn't take it anymore.

You loved him so much.

You love him so much.

You don’t want to leave but you can’t stay. Not like this. You’d rather miss him by being hundreds of miles away than miss him while he keeps you just a room away. And you couldn’t be there when he’d inevitably find that someone new. You couldn’t just wait for the final sword to be pierced through your heart.

You wouldn’t be able to live through it.

The tension is thick as you sit silently, looking listlessly out the tinted window while the city passes by you in a blur.

It’s not until Max gets on the highway that you realize you aren’t going home. You look over to him, staring for a moment as you try to keep your heart from racing. You aren’t scared, just concerned. You don’t like not knowing.

“Where are we going?” you ask after a long few seconds.

He doesn’t respond, his face still stony as his anger radiates off of him. He puts on music without sparing you a glance and you take it as your cue to be quiet. He’s too angry to talk right now, and though he’s pissed at you, he doesn’t want to snap on you.

It’s almost midnight, the lanes all across the road almost completely empty as he keeps on driving. You give up guessing where you’re headed to after he passes the last exit you recognize without getting off and resign yourself to the unknown.

You look out at the dark sky, the stars glowing brighter the further away from the city you get.

You find some solace in that.

As you rest your head against the window, your eyelids begin to feel heavy as your breathing slows.

You try to fight off the sleepiness as it threatens to take you down, but it's to no avail. Within a minute, you're sleeping as Max continues down the highway.

—

You startle awake at the honking of a semi truck, jolting up from where you lay on the reclined passenger seat. When did you do that? You blink your bleary eyes open as the sun shines brightly outside. You recognize you’re still in the car as you unbuckle your seatbelt and sit up, fixing the seat when you do.

You swallow thickly and unpleasantly as you cringe. You feel gross and a little disoriented from the heat of the sun combined with the weight of your long sleep.

You look around and realize you’re at a gas station. Checking the time, you find it’s already past seven. You’re surprised that you’ve slept so long, and that Max had driven for the same time. It dawns on you then that you have no idea where you are, and after seven hours of driving, you’re even more confused than you were last night.

Max isn’t at the pump, so you figure he must be inside.

You get out of the car, rubbing your eyes before you make your way across the lot and into the store.

You see him right away as he stands at the coolers grabbing water. On your way to him, you stop at the small toiletry section and grab a cheap disposable toothbrush.

You approach him carefully as he turns and spots you, waiting for you to get to him.

“Hey,” you say awkwardly, not knowing what else to go with. “I just need the bathroom, I’ll meet you back at the car.”

You don’t wait for a response, not sure he’d even planned on giving you one, as you head toward the big sign labeling the restrooms.

You quickly find a stall and relieve yourself. As you wash your hands at the sink, you can’t help but cringe at your reflection. Your makeup from yesterday is smudged and you look a little crazy, admittedly. You are feeling more well rested, though, so there’s at least one thing to be thankful for. You never slept well alone, and despite the physical discomfort of sleeping nearly eight hours in a car, this was the first time in months you’d gotten more than four hours of sleep without disturbance.

You open the package and take out the ninety nine cent toothbrush with the toothpaste already included. You run the bristles under the water for a second before you quickly brush your teeth. You really just want the feeling of sleep out of your mouth. You scrub at your tongue before spitting out the remnants of the sudsy paste and swirling with a bit of water.

The toothbrush does its job but doesn’t leave you with the minty feeling you were hoping for. As you toss the brush and the ripped packaging in the trash on your way out of the bathroom, you debate snagging a travel size mouthwash on your way out.

You stop in your path as you walk by a display of sunglasses. You don’t know what it is about the stand that somehow takes you back but you find yourself wondering when the last time you were in a gas station was. It’s silly, but you think it’s been a long while.

You look around and don’t see Max, but when you glance out the large glass window, you find him putting gas at the pump. His brilliant blue eyes hidden behind his dark, name brand glasses.

You turn and start looking at the cheap sunglasses, grabbing a pair of pink bedazzled ones and trying them on. You laugh at yourself in the small mirror before grabbing another pair to try on.

You go through five or six different styles before you settle on a simple, sleek black pair.

You aren’t sure how much longer you’ll be in the car, but you know you don’t want the sun shining in your eyes.

Before walking up to the counter, you wander around the aisles a bit, glancing outside every so often to ensure Max is still there.

You smile at the soda fountain and though you’re tempted to get the largest size they have, you know you’ll be lucky if Max lets you bring even the small one into his car without a complaint.

You fill the 12 oz cup with crushed ice and some raspberry iced tea, taking a sip before filling it back up and snapping on the plastic lid.

You don’t know why you’re feeling so free.. giddy, almost. It’s a stark difference from last night, and so far from anything you’ve felt these last few months, too.

It’s nice, not feeling so sad. And the more you wake up, the lighter you feel.

You mindlessly drink your tea as it cools you with each sip you take.

You glance out the window and see Max putting the cap back on the gas tank, so you quickly make your way to checkout.

You set down your drink and the glasses and fish in your pocket for the crumpled twenty you know you had.

As you pull it out and try to straighten it, the young blonde cashier speaks.

“Glasses are buy one get one right now,” she tells you as she rings you up, popping her gum.

“Oh, nice. Thanks,” you say as you flit back over to the stand. You knew which pair you were gonna grab the moment she let you know about the deal.

You smile as you grab them and hand them to her to scan when you get closer.

“It’s gonna be $11.14. You want a bag?”

“Uh, yes, please. And can I get two of those scratchers, too?” you ask pointing to the glimmering black and silver dollar scratch offs. She hums in affirmation as she pulls two for you and adds them to your total.

You hand her the twenty and grab the bag and your drink before pocketing the change when she gives it to you.

“Have a good one,” she bids you.

“Thanks,” you smile, “you, too.”

You walk to the car and pull your jacket off before you climb in as Max starts the engine.

He eyes your drink and bag but doesn’t say anything as you throw your jacket into the back and then buckle your seatbelt.

“I got you water,” he finally says after a moment.

You look at him in return, “thanks,” you say softly. There’s still some tension lingering between you, but it doesn’t feel as harsh as it had last night. This right here is the problem. When you’re together, everything is better. Even when it isn’t.

“Are you gonna tell me where we’re going now?” you ask, watching him closely.

He starts driving, heading out of the lot and back onto the highway.

The sun blinds you as you shield your eyes and quickly fish out the bejeweled pair of pink sunglasses you’d gotten free.

Max looks over to you briefly before returning his gaze to the road and your heart soars as he smiles to himself at your glasses.

“We’re less than an hour away,” he answers you without really answering you.

“You drove all night?”

“Yeah. You know I don’t mind a long drive. I have patience,” he says the last word more harshly as he adjusts his grip on the wheel.

There it is, you think to yourself.

Of course he wasn’t letting it go so quickly. He’d bring it up when he was ready to talk about it, and as he shifted his complete focus back to the road, you knew that time wasn’t now.

You watched as his jaw ticked slightly and you sighed to yourself.

Grabbing your cup, you took small sips from the straw, enjoying the way the drink went down. Cool, sweet, and smooth.

It relaxed you, easing the twisting of your stomach.

You settled in your seat and pulled out your phone.

You weren’t surprised by the lack of notifications; there wasn’t really anyone you kept in constant contact with, aside from Max.

As you looked up out the window, you were struck by the beauty that surrounded you. Gorgeous trees lined either side of the highway, and it was hitting you now how far away from the city you really were.

Max gets off at the next exit and you’re even more surprised by the naturescape you find yourself driving through. You’re on a two way road now and there’s no other cars in sight. As the road winds up and up, the sun is blocked out by the trees. Only glimmers of sunlight streaming through them every now and again as you continue on. You push up your glasses and look over to Max as he keeps driving, looking more relaxed once again.

It isn’t until you come upon what seems to be the start of a very long driveway that Max looks over at you.

You don’t return his gaze as you're wonderstruck at the massive house he’s driving up to. The long winding drive leads to a garage that is empty when it opens for Max’s car. The front yard is expansive and though it still blends into the wooded area, it’s well maintained.

You don’t even realize your mouth is hanging open until Max’s fingers gently take hold of your chin.

“You think this is nice, wait til we get inside,” he says before rescinding his touch, shutting off the car and getting out. He walks around and opens your door for you as you unbuckle.

You get out and pull your things from the back seat while he goes to the trunk.

You follow him and you're stunned when you see it’s packed full of his things. You stare stupidly as you watch him grab his own duffle and a suitcase before leading you out of the garage and up the path to the front door.

He unlocks the door with a key and pushes inside before stepping aside and letting you in.

You stand there in shock as you take it all in.

It looks like it came right out of a magazine. Everything looks so perfect. Cozy and comfy, and deceptively expensive, you’re sure.

You turn to him, a question in your eyes.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he asks. You continue staring, eyes slightly widening as your brows raise; you’re unsure of what to say.

It is what you wanted, what you’d talked about late at night when you’d stay up telling each other everything. Secrets you’ve never uttered to another soul, all about your deepest, darkest desires, your dreams, what you truly wanted out of this life.

You remember the exact night you’d told him this specifically.

“A nice house,” you’d whispered into the dark as you laid against him in his bed, your head on his chest as he held you under the covers, listening intently as you spoke. “A big yard. Somewhere, away from the city. Near the mountains, maybe? Doesn’t have to be fancy. But I hope it’d be cozy. Pretty,” you smiled. “But I wouldn’t be picky. Just a nice place of my own. Somewhere I could finally call home.”

You had spoken the last sentence so quietly, so full of distant hope and longing, and mostly to yourself, you hadn’t been sure he’d even heard you.

He had stayed quiet after that, the only way you knew he was still awake was his hand smoothing up and down your skin, almost tickling you as he lulled you to sleep with his gentle touch.

That had been the night before you were set to meet your mark. The last night Max had held you so lovingly. After that was when things started to change. He was always on the phone, or on his computer, always meeting up with someone. Growing more and more distant. Too busy for you, his apathy only becoming more evident with each passing day.

It had been a long six months.

“Isn’t it?” he asked again, his voice pulling you back to the present.

You nod, blinking to hold back the unexpected wave of tears you could feel wanting to form.

“But,”

“But nothing. It’s what you wanted. It’s what you deserve.”

You shake your head as a lump in your throat forms. “I wanted it to be real,” you murmur, voice tight. You don’t know what it is you’re doing here. What the next job could possibly entail, but this is just… a different sort of cruel. Like all you’ve ever wanted is being dangled in front of your face, but it isn’t yours to keep as you're forced to play out another charade.

His touch is on you then, turning you to face him completely before he takes your face in his hands, stepping closer to you.

“What makes you think this isn’t real?” His voice is hard though you can hear how he tries to soften it for you.

“I can’t just play pretend for the rest of my life, Max. I can’t. I can’t pretend to be someone I’m not anymore. I don’t want to. To have to move around, living fake lives, never getting to settle down and make one of my own, I-”

“Angel,” he stops you, realizing what your thinking is as a tear slips down your cheek once the confession you never thought you’d say slips past your lips, “I know.”

His thumb wipes at the tear streak as he presses closer to you, leaning his head down to yours while you look up at him. The cold his eyes held before seems to melt as he looks at you. He continues.

“I’ve known. This isn’t temporary, baby. This is your house. It’s in your name and everything. Anything you don’t like, we’ll change. I bought it for you. For us.”

“Wh-,” you breathe, no words forming as you take in what he said. “For us?” your voice cracks as you repeat his words, more tears burning at your eyes. “I thought…”

“Thought what?”

It takes you a second to speak, “... I thought you were over me.”

Hurt flashes across his face before it’s replaced with some kind of indignation.

“Over you?” he says harshly, “I’ve spent months putting all of this together for you-”

“I didn’t know that, it felt like you were ignoring me. Avoiding me-”

“You don’t get all of my attention for a little while and you just assume I’m bored with you? You think that little of me?”

“No, Max. I just - I was hurt and I didn’t, what was I supposed to think?”

“How about you think about how much I love you. Have I not made that clear? I’ve given you every piece of me. I let you in, I took care of you - I take care of you and I love you like I’ve never loved anyone,” you can feel how upset he is as he holds you tighter, his voice cutting you with every word.

“Max,” you say as you grab his wrists. He doesn’t respond, only moves you back as he walks you toward the couch. “Max,” you say again, almost pleading.

Your legs are right against the couch as he towers over you, still holding your face in his hands as you hold his wrists.

“I love you,” he says, hurt seeping through entirely now as he speaks. You’re almost being bent back over the armrest as he continues to try to get even closer to you. You’re looking in his eyes with your bleary ones.

“I know,” you whisper, squeezing his wrists lightly, your thumbs mindlessly running over his skin, “I know.”

“I’d give you the entire world if you wanted it,” he says.

“I don’t want the world,” you breathe sharply. “I’ve only ever wanted you.”

His lips crash into yours without warning as he takes you by surprise. The intensity of the moment completely overwhelms you as you fall back over the armrest onto the couch, Max following you.

You both move up the long couch as your kisses turn messy and fervent, your hands finding his hair as his move under your clothes.

You’ve missed him more than you’d even realized. You’re desperate for him, every little touch, the lightest of brushes of his fingers over your delicate skin. You’re pulling him as close as possible as he crowds you, the reciprocity from him filling you with everything you’d been longing for.

So caught up in the feeling of him, your mind wasn’t thinking of anything else until Max spoke, his words almost a snarl in your ear.

“Everything we’ve been through together, and you were just gonna leave me? Without talking to me, without a goddamn word?”

His hand circled your throat as he spoke, but he didn’t apply much of any pressure. Even still, the feeling enlivened and distressed you all at once.

You didn’t have to speak your admittance, you both knew full well what you had been attempting - what point was there in trying to deny it.

“I tried to talk to you,” you whimpered, eyes watering with the tears threatening to flow over, “you never listened. You acted like I wasn't around. I felt like a ghost, like a burden on you. I didn't want to leave,” you stressed, needing him to know that truth, “but I thought you didn't want me around. I thought I’d be doing us both a favor.”

His hand relaxed around your throat and instead moved up to caress your cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, staring at you with the softest look you’d ever seen. “I was caught up in all this, I was brushing you off. But, that was all it took?”

“Max,” you breathed, “even just one day without you, feels like an eternity. I didn’t think I could take it anymore.”

His nose brushes against yours as his eyes close, pained, before he presses his lips to yours, softer this time.

You return his kiss as it grows deeper, his hands moving down your body as he takes you in.

“You’re so dramatic,” he breathes against your skin. You huff, a hand in his hair as you keep him close. “Impatient,”he grits out, then another kiss, “needy.” His voice is low and rough.

You can feel yourself getting hotter with each word he speaks, and had it been anyone else, you’d be embarrassed by how wet you were getting. But you know that he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Please, Max,” you whimper, puppy eyes on display as you pout.

He pulls away, dark eyes penetrating you.

“You know what,” he breathes heavily, “maybe it's time you learn a little something about patience.”

You gape up at him dumbly, not knowing what to say.

“You think you can manage that, angel? Or you gonna try and run off on me again?”

You frown, blinking away from his harsh gaze. “I can manage,” you whisper.

His grip on your chin forces your gaze up, an unbidden whimper leaving you.

“Look at me when you’re talking to me,” he orders.

You swallow hard with a nod, “I can manage.”

—

It’s tortuous the way he moves his tongue, tracing up and down your slit before plunging in and out of your dripping hole, moving back up to swirl over your sensitive clit.

Your body is slicked with sweat, your clothes long tossed away as Max played with you, bringing you to the very edge of pleasure over and over again just to tear it all away before you could reach your release.

You swear you’re about to combust as he sucks on your clit, his fingers buried deep inside your pussy. Your moan sounds from your throat as you keep your mouth shut, head thrown back in pleasure, eyes screwed shut, your hand fisted in his hair while he devours you.

Your hips buck up despite yourself and for the first time tonight, Max doesn’t pull away from you completely. This time, he grips your hip, burying his face deeper in your cunt as his fingers curl just right inside of you, coaxing you closer.

You’re a mess of gasps and moans as he moves his fingers faster, fucking you hard and deep as he keeps his tongue focused on playing with your clit.

“Oh- god! Max, I-, Max, Max, Max, I’m gonna-”

You can’t even hear yourself and your senseless babbling as he speeds up his movements while you cry out for him.

Your orgasm shatters you, your body going tense before you shake beneath him. You’re seeing stars, that glorious warmth washing over you, the pleasure of your orgasm crashing over you in never ending waves as you pulse around his fingers. Max doesn’t stop what he’s doing until your hand in his hair is tugging at him to stop.

You’re breathless, body tired and sweaty as you try to calm down for the intense high. When Max sits up, still between your legs, his chin is slick with your arousal and release as he licks his lips. His eyes are glued to your body, roving up to your chest as it rises and falls with your labored breathing before he crawls over you. You’re face to face as his bright blue eyes peer into your soul. You feel like you’re in a trance as you return his gaze. Your hand reaches to caress his cheek before he leans closer to you, kissing you deeply, letting his tongue lick into your mouth. You moan at the feeling, and the taste of yourself still on his tongue.

“You see the pay off you can get when you just have some patience?” he husks. You whimper as he pulls away from you.

He rids himself of his shirt as you sit up and, slowly at first, reach for his belt. He doesn’t stop you and you grow emboldened.

You fumble with the buckle for a moment in your haste before you get it undone, immediately going for the button of his pants.

His hands brush yours as he unzips and pushes his pants down with his briefs, freeing his erect cock. You can’t help but reach for him, wrapping your hand around his length. Your heavy lidded eyes are glued to his body, your free hand exploring him as goosebumps break out over his skin under your gentle touch.

His shaky intake of breath as you stroke him with one hand and ghost slowly up and down his side with the other fills you with a sense of accomplishment and pride.

You can’t keep your longing at bay as your hand speeds up, gripping him a bit tighter as you jerk him off.

The moan that tumbles from his lips has your desire growing tenfold, but Max stops you all too soon.

He pushes you to lie back down on the couch, eyes dark and focused solely on you. The intensity steals your already unsteady breath as you release a soft gasp from his push.

It’s quiet in the house, the only sounds to be heard are your labored breaths as you wait, simmering in anticipation.

Max leans over you, planting one hand next to your head as he holds his stiff length in his other, never breaking eye contact as he guides himself to your entrance, prodding you with his cock.

Your breath hitches as he pushes his tip just inside your tight hole. You don’t so much as blink as he leans himself down closer to you while pushing further inside you. You spread your legs as much as possible as your mouth opens in a silent moan. Max holds your waist as he begins rocking in and out of you, slow and deep with each thrust he drives into you.

You tremble beneath him, your eyes wanting to roll back into your head but you don’t want to look away from him for even a second. A part of you terrified he’ll disappear if you do.

You reach for him with one hand, pulling him closer by his hip, your other holding his hand as he holds you.

Your nose tingles as he moves even slower, hitting even deeper with every stroke, his fingers squeezing your plush waist. Everything feels so intense; strong, powerful, entirely overwhelming as your eyes fill with tears once more.

He smooths his hand from under yours, up your waist, over your breast and further until he’s holding your cheek, his thumb wiping away your stray tears. He leans down as he stops his hips, keeping himself fully sheathed in your tight warmth.

He kisses you, so gently. More tears roll down your cheeks as your eyes close, your hands urging his body closer. Your touch has his kiss growing deeper; not as soft, but just as passionate as he begins to roll his hips into yours again.

You gasp as he stimulates your clit, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, sliding against yours before you let him dominate it, following his lead - like you always do.

Like you always will.

Each rock of his hips stokes the fire building deep inside you. Your hands are clutching him like your life depends on it.

You can feel your walls flexing around his length, his groan at the sensation still audible through your kissing until he pulls away, nuzzling your nose with his as he refuses to put space between you as you both try to breathe.

“Fuck, it’s been too long,” he says, voice strained, eyes screwed shut. “I’m not gonna last with the way you’re squeezing me, baby.”

You mewl as he starts to move faster. It’s evident he’s close to coming and you’re beyond grateful because you know you’re right there with him.

The sound of his hips hitting against you grows louder with each thrust, his balls are slapping against you and the wet sounds of his cock sliding in and out of your cunt are as salacious as they are arousing - only pushing you further to the edge.

Your toes are curling as your muscles tighten, and a strangled moan leaves you. His rhythm is completely lost now as he fucks into you relentlessly. You can’t stop yourself from coming, your walls constricting around his cock as the high of your orgasm crash over you.

You feel the spurts of his come hitting your walls as he lets out a throaty moan, thrusting in and out of you, riding out the high as he fills you completely. Your name intermingled with curses leave his lips as he relishes in the orgasmic bliss.

When he can’t take it any longer, the sensitivity too much for him, he gently pulls out of you before he collapses down beside you.

You’re breathless as you lay there, reaching a hand to touch his chest, just wanting to feel him.

You turn onto your side to be chest to chest, face to face.

“I’ve missed you,” you say, your voice small and tight. He strokes your face lovingly as he watches your eyes well with unshed tears.

“I’ve missed you, too, baby.”

You try to blink away the new wave of tears but you’re unsuccessful. His touch only coaxes more as you finally feel safe enough to let them all out now that you’re in his arms again. He moves to hold you against him as you shudder, nuzzling closer.

He shushes you as you cry, kissing your head and rubbing your back in an attempt to soothe you. His warmth alone is a comfort. You don’t know how long you spend like that in his hold but finally your tears begin to subside.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper pathetically. “I’m so sorry, Max.”

He places a kiss on your forehead, “I know. It’s okay. And I know you, sweetheart. I know you’d never leave me, you wouldn’t have gone through with it. I know you wouldn’t have.”

You take a moment, worrying your lip before you look up to meet his gaze.

He waits for you to speak, seeing the thoughts and worry in your eyes and knowing you have something to say.

“I love you, Max. But I can’t do it anymore. I can’t live another lie. I can’t,” your voice breaks on your last words as Max cradles your face.

“Baby, why do you think I brought you out here? Why I bought all of this for you?”

Your brows furrow as you look into his soft gaze, needing him to say it outright before you can really start to believe what you think it is he means. He offers you a soft smirk,

“You can be done, sweetheart. You’re done.”

You breathe in a bit shakily, eyes wide and a pout on your lips.

“But I,” you take an unexpectedly sharp breath, “I don’t want you to leave me, either.”

He chuckles at the small tremble underlying your voice, gently kissing your pout.

“You’re so greedy,” he admonishes, holding your cheek before pulling you closer for another kiss. He sighs as he pulls away. “But if that’s what you need from me, then I’ll be done, too.”

You aren’t even thinking when you take his face in your hands and pull him to you again, pressing your lips to his firmly. You keep hold of him as you part.

“Yeah?” you ask, not sure he means it.

“For you,” he nods, “yeah.”

You share another deep kiss that takes your breath away before you have to pull away for air. You caress his hair, “So… we live here now?” The question sounds silly to you, but it’s genuine.

He nods with a smile and you nod in return.

“Well, as nice as this couch is, I’d love to see the rest of the place.”

“You ready for the tour?”

“Mhm,” you smile as he moves to get up over you. Before he can, though, you stop him. “Max, wait. I-...Thank you,” you say, carding a hand through his dark hair. “I never expected this, at all. But it’s all I’ve ever wanted. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

“I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you,” you return with watery eyes. Emotions getting the best of you yet again. But you can’t help it. You’ve missed him so much, missed being this close, hearing his voice, hearing those words.

He holds you again, lips against your ear, “I’m sorry, angel. Sorry I was so distant.” He kisses your temple. “I promise I’ll make it up to you, and I’ll never make you feel like that again.”

He turns your face to his and kisses you once again.

“I promise.”

There’s so much love in his gaze, and a sincerity in his eyes, one you couldn’t question even if you wanted to. So you readily return his kiss, you take him at his word. You believe him. Because it’s him.

It’ll always be him.

#max burnett x curvy!reader #max burnett x reader #max burnett smut #max burnett angst #max burnett fluff #max burnett #sebastian stan characters #max burnett fanfiction #max burnett one shot #max burnett x you #max sharper

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moneymartin · 1 month

Text

・❥・- one more?

summary: kate comes home tired and needy :( part two to this fic. build up drabble to part three

warnings: none! fluff cause its kate :3 this is kinda shorter than the last one soz. again, every divider is a skip. most are constant cuz im lazy. didn’t know how to end oops!!!

rpf dont read it if ur uncomfy thx

a/n: all yjs reqs r still itw soooo they’ll be out soon poopies 🙄 also my single part drabble for kate is lowk marinating in my drafts and i don’t have the motivation to finish it…

its been 5 months since you and kate finally ended up together. pretty long, right? but you two never really got the hang of this thing, especially after remembering how long those feelings between you two had been brewing up for. it was still hard for you to show up to her games and practice due to soccer season, and the second it ended, you showed up to nearly every single one of them.

“i really can’t come this time, baby, i told you!” you grumble while kate drags you across the dorm. they had their practice game at carver today but you couldn’t make it, which made kate upset. “dilanni is gonna kill me if i don’t show up.” your soccer team needed to show up together for this fundraiser, and it was during the offseason. fucking lame. you hated letting her down all the time but some things like this just needed to be done.

kate’s fingers grip at your sweater sleeve, her eyes soft, and lips slightly pouting. “can you please just say you feel sick!? you’ll finish quicker than i will and it’s not like they won’t let you in.” she begs and tugs a little at it. her height makes you a little overwhelmed but she’s slightly bent at the knees and trying to make herself seem smaller than she really is. “kate, its just practice. its not like its the final fours yet.” you sigh and make her stand up straight. your eyes dart to hers and you bring your hands up to cup her face. the way she leans into your touch makes your face flush up like never before.

“yeah, but you always show out! i know we’re still trying to keep this on the down low still but i love pointing at you in the crowd before i make a shot during our practices.” she complains, trying to pull her head away from your hands but you keep her in place like a vice. your thumb brushes up against her face and she sighs under her breath. all those shots that she makes have all been for you ever since. and you didn’t even know that. everything she did on the court was meant for you. “i’ll make a deal with you, okay?” your words make her feel a little bit better and she nods ecstatically.

“when you get back we can do whateverrrr you want to make you feel better about me not showing up. does that sound good?” you propose, the idea crossing your mind after you realize that she just wants to spend that time with you while her teammates try to piece together this big puzzle. none of them know other than caitlin, and they’re completely unaware of you and kate’s relationship. “yes! okay, deal! deal deal deal…!” she blurts out and smiles stupidly, leaning her head towards you again as a sign that she wants a kiss.

you give it and let go of her face, wrapping your arms around her waist quickly and pressing another big kiss to her cheek. “don’t work yourself too hard out there.” you breathe out and pat her back before letting go of it. “this fundraiser should only be an hour, trust me.” kate just shrugs and smiles again, less big but you still know that she’s pretty happy at your little proposition for when she gets back. the moment you walk out of that door, her face drops and she rubs awkwardly at the back of her neck. she’s alone now, and doesn’t know what to do. you’ve been with her for every game and every practice so she’s lost most of her motivation to go. “aw, dang it..”

after your little fundraiser, you come home exhausted and dreary when you realize kate is gone too. you two are exactly the same person, lost without one another. it’s cute but sometimes it’s hard. this whole relationship thing is such a different concept and it makes your head hurt. the lock clicks on the door and you dig through your closet, finding a pair of pjs and some small shirt kate likes seeing you wear for ‘some reason’. which is what she says every time you ask.

a quick change and your casual clothes scatter across the floor before you basically face plant into the pillows. a warm feeling fills up your body while you fall asleep, a feeling that seems different still without kate. you two always sleep and take naps together so this is another thing you have to get yourself used to.

the stupid fundraiser ran longer than it should have. at least another 30-45 minutes extra and you weren’t very prepared for it. kids were all over the place too and you were somewhat on babysitting duty? according to your teammates. you stood with all the kids for at least an hour and the questions they asked you were probably the stupidest things ever.

the sound of the door opening is what wakes you up, fingers instinctively rubbing your eyes and sitting up. you’re met with the sight of kate rummaging sluggishly through her backpack and taking out clothes. she mumbles out a small ‘hi’ and yawns, walking into the bathroom. the sound of the shower hits your ears and you just lay back down, trying to keep yourself awake to fulfill that proposal you made earlier.

a few moments after the shower turns off, the bathroom door opens and your mattress shifts in weight, a few drops of water coaxing you to open up your eyes. kate is sitting on the edge of the bed and she tucks herself in, burying her face into your neck. “how was practice?” you mutter, moving her wet strands of hair to sprawl out on the bed. she grumbles into your neck instead of instantly responding. “tiring, huh?” you ask.

“extremely.” she whispers breathily and looks up at you. kate’s eyes are slightly droopy and her lips are pursed. your arm wraps itself around her back and you tilt her head up with your hand, making her look up at you as you start rubbing her temples gently. kate’s eyes are opening and closing continuously while your fingers continue to massage her head and she huffs heavily a few times.

you push kate’s head into your neck again and slide your hands onto her shoulders, patting them gently to make her fall asleep easier. she doesn’t though. instead, she hoists her head up and quickly locks her lips with yours, grabbing your waist and holding herself up with her arms. her fingers are gripping at the bedsheets tight and she’s kissing you a little bit too hard. not that you mind, of course. “mmmf.. hey?” you pant and pull away from the kiss, making eye contact with kate and realizing where she’s placed her hands.

“i’m just kissing you.” kate mumbles and doesn’t even bother waiting for you to finish catching your breath. she kisses you again, propping herself up on her elbows and grabbing your arms to wrap around her waist. “y- yeah! but like… let me get a breather at least.” you laugh quietly. you’re still trying to catch your breath and the more you try to get away, the more persistent she becomes. “c’mon. you’re just sleepy, baby. get your butt to bed and you’ll be alllll good in the morning.” you smile and push her shoulders down.

kate ends up falling onto your body and her nose brushes up against your cheek, her lips running up and down your neck as she starts kissing all over it. “one more..” she rasps out and slides her hands underneath your shirt. she starts to claw your back a few times, whining into your neck when you try to push her away. “kate, please.” you grunt and pull back, nearly falling off of the edge of the bed.

her face is the same one as earlier. her big, pretty blue eyes going soft and her lips pouting. she looks like a sad puppy and you hate it. you hate how you can’t say no to it. “just one more! this is the last one and i’ll sleep, i swear.” kate spits out and tilts her head to the side. she yawns, her eyes getting watery and now you know that it’s basically over for you. “i can’t.” you mutter. “yes, you can. it’s just one more kiss, babe. please?!”

“all you have to do is give me one, and i’ll sleep!”

“you say this all the time! you’re gonna say that you’ll ‘sleep after’ but the second my lips land on yours, you’re gonna act like an animal.”

“that’s not true.”

“oh, yeah? watch.”

you cup her cheeks and she grabs your waist gently, your lips going in for one quick one. when she feels how warm you are and how much you’re trying to really prove a point, she just helps your claim anyways. kate’s lips are against yours again, kissing hungrily.

i mean, she’s practically eating away at your face.

#um this is so bad.#bye #kate martin x reader #wcbb x reader #wbb x reader #that pic of her is so cute

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faetreides · 2 months

Note

I have had this thought running around all week. What if reader was sejanus’s girlfriend but Coryo was in love with her, so when he returns to the Capitol after everything in district 12 and the reader is upset that her boyfriend had died and been labelled a rebel, he’s there to comfort her and later married her.

I realised that there’s a few gaps in this but I don’t even care cause I’m so obsessed with the thought! Love you!!💗

I debated on answering this bc this is a fairly common "trope" in the corio x reader space, but I decided to see if I could do something a bit different with it, I hope you like it & I love u too!!

(TYPICAL CORYO WARNINGS Y'ALL)

In my head, canon era Coryo would be a lot more confused by being able to feel anything romantic for anyone. It's not like you're a childhood friend of his, or a new transfer from a district family that won the gamble and made it big, no. You're just one of the many middle tier capitol families who while never being on the same level as others, they also had less to lose. It would make something in his gut simmer, if your family was any more significant than a fly hovering around a rotting corpse. You are not the asset that Sejanus is.

But he hates seeing you link arms with Sejanus as you walk out of class together. He loathes the sight of you two splitting a cookie and feeding it too each other like it might as well be your wedding cake. It isn't until Coriolanus "happens" to be wandering through the academy corridors after hours, that his mind catches up with his cock. It's useless to count how many times he's rubbed his cock raw to the memory of your panty covered crotch under your skirt (you don't wear them constantly so you're a bit stupid about remembering to be careful).

Your moans, which he's already heard through the walls of your apartment when he couldn't resist the urge to see you, tip him off. He ducks around a nearby corner and peeks out to see you and Sejanus locking lips. What's worse, is that he can see that your pants are pooled around your ankles, and Sejanus is nearly throwing his back out thrusting his dick in your dripping hole. Huh. Coriolanus would've never pegged you as the sort of person to take risks like that, but you must need the added thrill to be wet enough for your boyfriend.

Coryo knows that there's nothing special about the softer moments you and he share. That the food you sneak him is given because you're a nice person and not because it kills you to see the love of your life starve. You aren't implying anything when you explain Antony and Cleopatra to him (he didn't need you too, he just wanted to have more memories of your voice and to make you feel smart). But he can't stop himself from drafting up a false reality, which he's believing is become less and less false with every touch and glance.

In the days after his return to the capitol when all is said and done, he tells himself that Sejanus had to die so he could live. That that's all it came down to, survival. Deep down, he doesn't bother kidding himself. He knows that he saw the perfect opportunity to get rid of the thing standing in between him and his happily ever after, and that you weren't very bright when it came to capitol propaganda. You might even feel inclined to be grateful once you learn about your beloved was all too willing to betray you and run off with some district songstress.

Having less to lose doesn't mean you have nothing to worry about. If anything, it makes you an easier target.

He gets a reoccurring nightmare about Sejanus having survived the hanging and biding his time in the woods of district 12 before coming back to hunt him down, to get you back. The paranoia will never fully go away.

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writingstoraes · 11 months

Text

sparks 🎇

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!reader

type: written imagine (fluff)

word count: 1.7k, no warnings hehe

notes: once again this is a new idea even though i have a ton of drafts like my mind is a mess so i am not surprised ANYWAY . trying to get out of a writing slump so lmk what u guys think! ALSO apologies for any typos or grammatical errors this is not proofread at all 😆

about: The few of the many times Charles’ heart skipped a beat because of you.

Movies have always portrayed “real” sparks so well. Sometimes it’s a scene where a guy sees the girl for the very first time during a first date and he freezes for a moment, the apparent electricity between two people when their hands almost touch and they panic for a little while, or the moment of suspense before a first kiss and the exhilaration after.

But Charles taught that was exactly what they were - movie scenes. He lingered on the thought that the moments where sparks flew and one’s heart skips a beat, those moments cannot be manufactured in real life. They stay in movies, books, in the arts; where they belong, somewhere where they were fiction.

Not until he experiences it first-hand, not until he meets you, the woman who held his heart in the palm of her hand.

He felt it the first time your hands ever touched.

At first, he thought he was going crazy. There was no way he felt a current run through his skin the moment it came in contact with yours, but to this day, it’s a testament he swears on very seriously.

You had been going out for a few weeks, several dates here and there. It was the exact point where you felt comfortable with each other, but only starting to be, hence why there were still evident boundaries present. The two of you were careful to not cross any, especially Charles. He’s cautious on establishing any physical touch, sure, he’s held your waist to guide you through bustling crowds and had slung his arm over your shoulder, but he hasn’t held your hand. At least, not yet.

He had invited you to have dinner on his yacht, set at the perfect time where you can be of witness to the beautiful sunset over the sea. He says the food was nearly done, so he set up two comfortable chairs that gave you just the perfect view of the Monaco skies. The sun was setting and the golden sky formed a beautiful gradient with the blue hue that painted it beforehand.

He turns his head to you, your arm resting on the chair’s handles, a tad bit preoccupied with the view in front of you. He keeps a smile to himself, enjoying the personalized view he had. For some reason, he feels the urge to hold your hand, or at least rest his on top of yours. He was hesitating and second-guessing, lifting his finger once in a while and then putting it back down when he decides not to push through. It didn’t help that there were minimal distance between your chair and his, and so he was fighting the urge to initiate contact and have you flee off.

But his hesitant hand that kept on moving was something you grew to notice, and thanks to your knowledge of many, many romance movies, you assumed it meant he wanted to hold your hand but was too afraid to do it. You shove the thought of doing it first in the back of your head, overthinking that you might be wrong and he in fact did not want to hold your hand.

Maybe it was something in the air, the quiet waves of the ocean, or just the fact that he really really liked you.

He finally lifts his hand so he can reach yours, resting it softly on top of your hand. He lets out a relieved and contented sigh when he feels you ease into his touch. His heart raced faster, like it was screaming for help and begging to be let out of his chest.

As if that was not enough, he feels a current run through his arm and out of his fingertips the moment you grasp his hand and decide to interlock your fingers with his then setting it on top of the chair’s handle. He swears he saw fireworks when he closed his eyes and his heart finally exploded out of his chest. He vows he can stand up and jump around out of joy, but he chooses to indulge in the moment and gives your hand a reassuring squeeze instead.

He had met you earlier in the season and he would be lying if he said he didn’t want you to see him in his element, doing what truly made him happy. That is, if his team does not proceed to ruin the entire weekend for him and his dedicated fans.

He invited you to watch a grand prix, in a track that he felt most comfortable. He was the perfect gentleman whe he extended the invite, letting you know you could always decline if you didn’t feel like going. You were together, in all terms to be considered, but he didn’t want to pressure you into finally making your appearance only because he knew how harsh it could get. He assures you that he will take care of everything and all you needed to do was come.

You were committed to attend the entire weekend, from free practice until the race itself. Even if Charles was quick to reassure you that you didn’t have to be there for everything, you only return a smile and tell him you wanted to be, which not surprisingly calmed his nerves.

You knew people were going to stare, fans will take pictures, even the possibility of you making headlines. This was your first paddock appearance as his girlfriend, after all. It was inevitable, so you try to take your mind off of the pressure. Much to your nerves bothering you before you even got on the plane, you had been racking your brain on what to wear. You didn’t want to seem like you were trying too hard or too little.

You finally settle on an outfit and your lips form a small smile as you looked in the mirror. It was nothing extravagant, only a black one-shoulder top and a black high-waisted pants that you paired with a red leather jacket. It’s not like you wanted what you wore to scream Ferrari, but you wanted to add a little touch, at least for Charles.

“What do you think? I chose the red jacket for you,” you turn around to see Charles, seeing as you heard his footsteps earlier and knew he entered the room.

If he was being honest, he had seen you put on the outfit. He witnessed how you cocked your head to the side trying to see if it looks good. He sees the outfits laid on the bed, all with a touch of red, and he could feel butterflies swarm his stomach at the thought of you carefully planning out your outfits to include his team’s colors.

There it was again, the stupid sparks that he’s been getting ever since he met you. He curses himself for being a little non-functional when feels them, but he figures he has to get used to being blown away by everything you did. It feels magnetic, like he’s feeling actual static. You make him feel so much by just doing so little.

He sees you twirling around in front of the mirror, smiling when you finally put on the red leather jacket, looking satisfied.

He stops at his tracks, at least internally, and fails to respond for at least 10 seconds.

“Do you not like it? I can always go change-”

“No,” he says, almost out of voice. “You look absolutely beautiful.”

Where he was standing, he swears he sees fireworks erupt behind you.

Charles stands on the podium, feeling victorious and ecstatic he had clinched another win for his Formula 1 career. He looks fondly at the sea of crowd cheering for him, waving flags of his own country, Ferrari, and Italy. From where he stood he could see Fred’s big smile and the engineers celebrating, jumping up and down.

The trophies had been awarded and the Monaco national anthem had finally played. He was wearing his Pirelli cap and completely drenched in champagne. He scans the crowd down the podium, hoping to get a glance of you. Earlier, he did tell you you didn’t have to witness the awarding personally should he win, because he didn’t want you to get in between many people and possibly get shoved or pushed. He assumes that you were in the garage, waiting for him, probably with a kiss and a hug.

He leans over the makeshift railing of the stage, eyes still set on possibly sighting you. When he fails to find you, he finally comes down and there he sees you, just near the stairs going up to the podium with teary eyes and a wide smile. There you stood with hands clasped together, in awe of Charles who was standing in front of you.

He feels his heart race yet again, having experienced the first time you ever greeted him after he claims P1 in a race. Even just by looking at you he feels his world shift, like its only goal was to pull him towards you, like the fireworks that took the skies earlier weren’t enough and he was having his own show.

He jogs towards you, exhilirated and filled with adrenaline and pulls you into a tight embrace. His entire body twitches when you plant a soft kiss on his cheek, as if every fiber of his being had turned into putty at your touch. Everytime you engulf him in an embrace, kiss his cheek, or run your hands through his hair, he feels as if he’s inside his car going at least 320 kilometers per hour. He has no clue how you do it, how you possibly make him feel like he’s won a race every time he was with you; as if you and his heart had a binding agreement.

“Congratulations, mon champion du monde,” you say slowly and close to Charles so only he could hear, hoping you didn’t mess up the pronunciation, after having practiced it several times on the plane.

Something tugs at his heartstrings, having been greeted by the knowledge that you sent out his well wishes in French, even though you didn’t speak the language and mentioned you were always scared you were going to say something wrong. But mostly because you called him your world champion, and that just sends him down a spiral.

“Thanks for being here, amour.” he replies, pulling you in again for another hug.

------------

tagging: @slytherheign, @honethatty12, @siovhanroy

notes: thanks for reading everyone <3 will try to post a 1.4k special soon but firstly thank u so much for all the love hehehe hope u guys r having the nicest day!

#writtenbyrae #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #formula 1 #f1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc one shot

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shiny-jr · 11 months

Note

Could you do a piece of the octotrio(individually) where they confess to the reader but they reject them because they don't like them,the whole chapter 3 situation, and the reader knows that they obviously do even more shady shit? Like Jade and Floyd are pretty much confirmed part of the fish mafia, Azul is a slimeball capitalist and by relation to the twins will do even more deplorable shit. Kinda like what you did for Malleus, Kalim and Leona,please?

Warning: Yandere. Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Azul Ashengrotto.

Summary: You already had a handful with adjusting to life at Night Raven College, what you didn't need was the extra attention from a curious student of Octavinelle. Those of Octavinelle were bad news, and you did not need whatever bad news they decided to deliver to you with a bouquet of flowers.

Note: Anon, as soon as I read this request, I made a face. And not a bad face. It's hard to describe, but to assure you, I immediately muttered, "Now that's what I'm talking about." I'm so terribly picky with accepting requests, and I hate it, but this one managed to catch my eye immediately. Man, do I love rejection requests. Rejected sad and crazy boy hours are here.

Added: I drafted this up months ago and haven't touched it until now. I've been struggling on Floyd's part, so I just decided to finish Azul's part and put that out.

When you suddenly awoke in a floating coffin and miraculously became a student at this magic school, you expected surprises but not like this. As if trying to go through the daily motions while wondering which student would snap next wasn't enough, now you had a particular fellow lurking about and watching you. It would only be a matter of time before they grew tired of waiting and would decide to strike.

Oh, would you look at that. This greedy merman now has his sights set on acquiring your love. How did this happen? Why is this happening? It's difficult to tell, but for now you can only hope that he isn't concocting some terrible plot for you.

He's terribly intelligent and much too cunning, then he has his business facade to top it off. But so many times, so many times, his facade has nearly cracked around you. In fact, you wouldn't exactly call him "cool and collected." There's a little desperation in his tone when he asks for your time in a worthwhile exchange, he states. Or how his hand grips yours and lingers for much longer than is necessary whenever he has an excuse to shake your hand. And the freebies, oh god the freebies. You don't trust anything "free" from him, but he's always offering an abundance of goods, a token of goodwill, he says. Not that you trust that either.

Azul generally seems like a talented and clever guy destined for success. But, you prefer to have no affiliation with him. It's his methods to success that you can't exactly approve of. The scams, the tricks, the intimidation, every bad deed was done in such a meticulous way under certain circumstances he sets so that he faces no repercussions in the end should something go astray. Which is why when you caught on to his desire to be close to you and give you gifts, it placed you on edge as you anticipated the big moment he would act on those feelings.

"Why, hello, dearest. What a pleasant surprise seeing you here! You do know you are always welcome in my lounge." Azul exclaimed in greeting, as if the twins hadn't herded you here. The dorm leader stood in front of your table, serving you the food you begrudgingly ordered once you realized you wouldn't be allowed to go off the hook so easily. "I hope the meal is to your liking. Now that the opportunity has presented itself, I'd like to speak with you. I must admit, I've taken quite the liking to you, so please, I implore you, consider the rare proposition I'm about to offer." Azul flashed that award-winning business smile, as he held up a bouquet of flowers decorated with colorful pastel shells. He had practiced his speech for hours, and now he was awaiting your response. However, when he noticed your hesitance and obvious discomfort, his heart stopped.

His smile became more strained as he went off script, attempting to further convince them that he was a worthy suitor.

"I assure you, I will be a wonderful significant other. Not only am I the head of the Octavinelle dorm, but I am a top student as well. As you know, I also own the Mostro Lounge and have a great many connections to students across campus."

With every second that passed, he was growing more desperate. That much was obvious.

"If you desire gifts, I will deliver gifts. If you wish for affection, I will drown you in my affection. If you ask for praise, I will pen poetry that rivals literature venerating the most coveted figures in the land and sea's histories!"

Well, this was awkward. You did not anticipate him to have the brazenness to confess publicly. It felt more like a business proposition than a confession. Maybe this was a part of his plan to profess his affection in his lounge, a controlled environment, where there was a higher chance you would accept under the pressure of the many eyes of other customers taking notice. His smile faltered the more the unease festered in his gaze as each second passed.

The answer was no. You wouldn't date him even if the deal included a weekly allowance, because you had a lot more to lose. You weren't sure what category Azul fell into. Acquaintance? Yes. Friend? Possibly, but that was pushing it a bit.

The owner of the lounge was greedy, cunning, and conniving. No matter what he had, it never was enough. Even when he swiped the powers of countless fellow students, he still wanted more. If you gave him an inch, he would take a mile. And you weren't exactly quick to forgive him for his many past transgressions.

Even if he's claimed to have mended all his ways, repented, seen the light, and made a switch, Azul remains a business man above all. And honestly, you'd rather not be dragged into his affairs, especially since you're fairly certain that some of the things he's done may be unlawful or accomplished by going through loopholes in laws. All of his attention and time was consumed by his academics, his business, and creating other deals to earn a profit. These were the three that took up his time the most, and it kept him incredibly busy. That was one thing, the other was this: How long would things be sweet before he allowed his desire to sour the relationship? Sure, at first he may shower you in gifts, cash, and affection, but you're sure that eventually the relationship would become bitter by his possessiveness and bottomless greed.

So... you're declining... I see. Perhaps the incentives aren't enough. Allow me to offer you something more. He felt humiliated. The rejection gave him flashbacks to primary school and his constant refusals then, but this one hurt ten times harder. Back then those were just silly childhood crushes that were worth nothing, this was different. This was worth more than all the cash in his vault. Eventually, he improved himself in his youth with stubborn determination, and that's how he would win again. He would use charm, manipulation, underhanded tactics, wit, and stubborn determination to ensnare your heart.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst writing #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #azul ashengrotto #twst azul #yandere azul ashengrotto x reader #yandere azul ashengrotto #yandere azul x reader

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gurugirl · 1 year

Note

I miss the priest and his pet!!

What about if we get to kind of see a continuation of where she was sitting on his lap with him inside her while he was getting his homily ready at the end of part 3??? Because that was hot and I want to know where that went. There’s no way they didn’t have hot seggggs after he was done.

Summary: Harry lets you sit in his lap while he finishes his homily. But you continue being a brat so he has to take further measures to get you in line.

A/N: Thank you for this request! Loved writing this one - though it's been in my drafts for months! Enjoy babe! 4k words

Warning: 18+ only, smut, bondage, overstimulation, cage play, dom/sub dynamic

Priest!harry Masterlist

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Excerpt from Ch. 3 of Forgive Me, Father (read for refresher)

“You’re naughty today. You were given a lot of attention already this morning pet. You know the rules. But let’s try something else now. Climb up into my lap and sit over me. But you have to stay still, otherwise, I’m going to tie you up and put you in your cage where you’ll stay until I’m done.”

Harry helped her stand up and she sat over his lap, facing him. Harry held onto the base of his cock as Y/n angled herself to slip down over him. She watched his face as she slowly encased him and Harry was barely holding it together. He pulled her into his chest and she tucked her face into his neck so he could see his work as he scooted back up to the desk and picked up where he left off once Y/n had coated him with herself fully. The tiny squeezes and clenches felt good around Harry’s big dick, but he remained calculated as he read the scripture he was using for inspiration for the homily he was preparing for Sunday mass.

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Y/n was a very good girl for nearly ten minutes. Harry was impressed. His pet had been a bit of a brat all day but it seemed all she needed was just to be close to Harry. He'd let her sit with him as long as she kept still.

Her warm breath was humid against Harry's neck and he could feel her breathing in soft puffs. Her naked body sat against his clothed one as she gently shifted over him.

Harry closed his eyes for a moment to call on a higher power to control himself. The girl was warm and wet and her walls were clenching around him each time she tilted her hips.

Harry was prepping for his Sunday homily. It was a Friday and it was important for him to have it ready that evening so he could go over it again the following night to make sure he hadn't missed anything.

He scribbled a note in the margin of his Bible and then jotted down a verse in his notebook when he noticed his pet shifting back and forth very very slightly. The tiny tick of her hips and the way her pelvis tilted and she squeezed around him was delicious but he needed to finish before they could really get to playing.

"Little girl," he said in a tone of warning, "what did I tell you?"

Shifting back a little so she could look up at him she rounded her eyes sweetly and batted her lashes, "Sorry, Father. I'll stay still."

"Not what I asked you. What did I tell you was going to happen if you didn't stay still?"

She bit her lip and let her eyes wander to the side of the room before slowly bringing her faux innocent gaze back to Harry, "You said you would tie me up and put me in my cage."

Harry hummed, "That's right. If you do that again I will have you sitting in your cage away from me until I'm done. If you're a good girl for me, you can sit here in my lap and you'll get to feel me inside of you the whole time. And when I’m done, then we'll play."

Y/n nodded. Her soft bottom lip bit into her mouth.

Harry pulled her into his chest as he turned his attention back to his homily. Y/n sighed and he could feel her fingers playing with the buttons on his shirt. But she was being good keeping still and not moving over him. For a few more minutes.

Harry's focus was already interrupted by having her in his lap as her soft and wet pussy kept his cock nice and warm. But when he noticed her breath pick up and he felt the way she was gently pulsing herself around him he sat his pencil down and she moaned at the small movement he made and then rocked down over him once. And then twice. A third time.

"You're a brat today. So you'll get the punishment a brat deserves," he spoke and he moved her off of him and stood up, grabbing her by her ponytail and leading her to the bedroom.

"Father! Please! I need you! Please!!" She squealed as he opened up the cage.

She put her hands onto his forearms and he let go of her hair, "Get in."

Immediately she fell to her knees and grasped onto the fabric of his trousers just under his knees, "No. Please! I just... I need you so bad today. Father," she pressed the top of her head into the space between his knees before slowly craning her head back to look up at him, blinking her eyes with her lips set in a pout, "please."

Harry stood tall and unmoving. He wasn't buying her act. She loved all his attention on her when they were home alone together. It wasn't the first time she'd interrupted his studying because she was too needy. Sometimes he'd give in but the more he gave in, the more she did things like this, thinking she could possibly persuade her dominant to let her have her way.

She needed to learn her lesson. He couldn't leave another homily prep until the last minute. He hated to rush. Hated to feel like he wasn't prepared. He'd allowed it too many times, secretly enjoying the way she needed him and begged for his attention.

"In the cage."

Y/n let go of his pants and put her hands in her lap as she looked down. She wasn't moving.

"Do as you’re told like a good girl."

No answer. Just a huff.

Harry sighed and shook his head as he went to the dresser and removed the red cotton bondage rope.

Kneeling behind her he pulled at her arms and drew her wrists behind her back and began winding the restraints together upward toward her elbows until the fit was snug and she would be unable to get out but not so tight that her circulation was cut off.

As he stood, he pulled her with him, grasping the back of her arm, and brought her into the cage, where he had her sit on her pillow, moving her legs to the side and began to wrap more rope around her ankles.

She didn't say a word as she kept her head down.

"There," the priest spoke when he'd finished tying her up as he stood to close the door.

"Please don't go,” she spoke with her face still downcast.

Harry latched the door closed and paused, "Look at me, pet. Right now."

She turned her head and tilted her neck back so she could look up at him.

"Are you okay?"

She sat for a moment as she blinked her eyes. She just wanted his attention. She hated when he was so focused on something else.

"Please will you give me one more chance? I'll be good this time."

Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head, "I have to get my work done. You are making it impossible. Last week you pulled something like this and I had to rush through finishing my homily last minute,” he swiped his tongue over his bottom lip and tried to keep a grin from breaking out onto his face (because she was so cute and he actually enjoyed this kind of play with her), “You’re naughty. Stay in here until I’m done. And I don’t want to hear a peep from you either or I’ll have to gag you.”

He took the skeleton key from his pocket and placed it into the lock, twisting it and securing the door. Harry looked back over his pet to make sure she was okay. As much as seeing her in the cage with her hands and ankles tied gave him a tinge of excitement, power he always wanted her to be okay.

When Harry left the bedroom he closed the door behind him and she whined quietly. She knew she deserved this. And he might not fall for it anymore. Last week she really made a scene. She was a brat, interrupting his work repeatedly. He spanked her. She resisted. So he put her in her cage (but made the mistake of not locking it because she promised to be good) but she got out and crawled to him begging for his attention. He put her back in the cage, tied her arms above her head, and gagged her. And by the time he sat back down he was fully distracted, turned on, and too much time had gone by to get his mind back into his work. So he didn’t finish his homily that night. Rather, he listened to her muted whines and grunts from his work desk and planned out a more appropriate punishment for her.

And now, a week later, here they were again. He loved to play with her. He enjoyed their dynamic but she had been quite a lot brattier over the more recent weeks. So he was being made to stay on his toes with her. It was fun. He actually liked this. But he truly did have a homily to finish.

She was tempted to call for him. Or whimper loudly so he could hear it. But she decided against it. She didn’t know what had gotten into her exactly. She just liked having his attention on her. Liked it even if was in the form of punishment (but of course she liked punishment and spikes of pain that led to an overflow of oxytocin afterward).

She shifted on the pillow, trying to keep herself in a comfortable position, sitting on her bottom and bending her knees into her chest. She used her feet to push herself back against the cage to lean onto the cool metal, her arms behind her digging into the bars. She rested her head back and closed her eyes. She’d try to be a good girl for her priest. Y/n knew getting his homily finished was important to him.

With every line Harry wrote and each passage he read and contemplated, he couldn’t get over how quiet she was being. Why was he now unable to stop wondering what she was doing (which was obviously nothing because he’d tied her up and locked her in her cage) when he’d finally gotten her to be quiet and could focus on his work?

He groaned and closed his eyes. It had only been about a half hour and he had made some ground in preparation for Sunday, but he didn’t get as far as he wanted. He hoped to be mostly done at the half-hour mark but he was far from it. In fact, at the pace he was going it would take two hours to have everything prepped.

Looking toward the bedroom door he had an idea. It would make for a long night but in the end, they’d both get what they wanted and he could clear his mind to focus on the task at hand when he was done with her.

She popped her eyes open when Harry stepped into the bedroom, “Father! Are you done?”

Harry unlocked the cage door and grasped her underarm to help her scoot out of the metal enclosure and he lifted her up to bring her to the bed, “Not yet. But I’ve decided to show you mercy.”

The truth was that he was just as needy. His cock was still half-hard in his pants the whole time he’d been studying and so he was really the one that needed mercy if he were to tell her the whole truth. He needed his urges soothed.

Lying on her side she stretched her neck to see what he was doing behind her but he was across the room and she was unable to get him in view.

“Need to calm you down. Make you feel all soft and pliable so I can get my work done finally.”

Y/n grinned to herself. She knew the truth. She’d been good and quiet for a while but he couldn’t stop thinking about her and now he was the one that needed to calm down so he could concentrate. She’d done her job then.

When she felt the bed dip and Harry grab her wrists, he pushed at her to lie face down into the mattress. He lifted her ankles up, pushing them close to her wrists behind her back, and began tying another rope in between to attach her ankles and her wrists.

He tugged at the braided material when he was done and grunted. She felt the mattress shift and she turned her head to look at her priest but he swatted her bottom with the leather paddle and she squealed, “Face down.”

She could hear him removing his clothes. She loved to look at his body and ogle him. He was fit and muscular. And he was strong. He always handled her as if she weighed nothing and she knew it was because he was in such good shape. But she took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she kept her face into the comforter below, using her sense of hearing to determine what was happening next.

Harry kneed up behind her and nudged her thighs apart so he could have access to her. Smoothing his hands over the outside of her thighs and up to her hips he pulled at her and lifted slightly before she felt his fingers spreading her cheeks apart.

She was vulnerable tied up this way. She couldn’t move much. She was able to open her thighs up and twist to her side but that was about it.

Suddenly Harry’s fingers were in her ponytail and he pulled her head up with one hand as he stuffed the gag ball into her mouth with the other. He buckled the gag in place and released her hair so her face fall back into the mattress. But with the gag, it was far less comfortable. She’d deal with it, though. She’d had worse.

“Was this what you wanted?” Harry spoke in a deep voice. Dominant and dark.

She moaned as a response and the priest laughed, “Oh. My sincerest apologies. You can’t talk right now, can you? Well, I guess that’s a good thing since you’ve been trying my patience for most of the day. I’m gonna fuck you and make myself come. I don’t care if you come at all,” his words were tight as he pushed his thumb into her labia, already wet for him. He actually did care if she came. In fact, the intention was to make her come until she couldn’t take it anymore. And since Harry knew just how to do it and make it happen fast, he was going to torture her with overstimulation until he finally came himself.

A stinging smack against the side of her bum with the paddle caused her to groan but the next smack had her eyes watering. The third rendered her silent as drool pooled onto the blanket below her mouth where she was gagged.

When he’d gotten her nice and red, and the skin was raised and hot to his touch he chuckled at how quiet she’d gotten. But the glistening from her pussy was the giveaway indicating how much she enjoyed it. She loved being spanked. He loved spanking her.

Suddenly she was being pulled at again, her hips brought up another few inches when suddenly she felt the cool silicone of one of the vibrators enter her pussy. Harry pushed it in slowly but she was fully aroused and ready for it. He brought it into her until it was secured and the front tip of the silicone that laid against her clit was in place. She knew this vibrator. This was the one that had her coming fast because of the way it vibrated against her clit and curled into that yummy spot on the inside. He turned it on and cooed at her when she moaned around the gag, “S’good isn’t it pet? This’ll have you nice and subdued for me while I come in your ass.”

She was already shaking and her heart was racing by the time Harry had prepped her bum for his cock, adding lube and fingering her open.

Harry could hear the way she was moaning and breathing through her nose heavily. He’d have her nice and worn out for him by the time he was done.

Filling her bum slowly she suddenly stiffened and her muffled moans were louder, “Aww, poor baby. Did you need to come? You can if you need to.”

As he continued to prod into her he could feel her clenching around him and he held the vibrator back in place as the way she was squeezing and pulsing nearly had the toy being pushed out, “Ah ah ah… this stays in.”

She wasn’t in any mind to understand what he was saying as she had her first orgasm, letting the electricity heat up her core as her eyes rolled to the back of her head. When she began to come down she squealed as the vibrator was buzzing against her sensitive clit. She tried to cry out around the gag but the noise was muffled and her drool only increased. Her chin and cheeks were drenched. But now she was feeling his cock too. He was slipping himself in and out, pressing into her deeply and moaning above her as her pussy was still being stimulated.

Harry kept his hand on the vibrator as he fucked her. The vibrations filling her insides and tapping into his cock the entire time. It felt good. Harry loved fucking her when she had the vibrator in.

“Your bottom is all red but your pussy is dripping pet. You’re so needy today. You were even taken care of this morning and yet here you are on the cusp of coming a second time in less than five minutes.”

Harry smirked as he eyes the scene below. Her ankles and wrists tied together behind her back, her sore bottom needing a bit of soothing (which he’d get to later), her pussy packed with the vibrator and the little nub at the end dancing over the hood of her clit, shiny with arousal, and his favorite thing to see; the way his cock filled her bottom and how she opened up wide for him.

Each time Harry’s hips met her ass she was shoved forward slightly. He was inside of her deeply, moving in and out, making her brain turn to mush when suddenly she was hit with another wave of ecstasy. She gurgled and clenched hard around the toy and her lover’s cock as he continued pounding into her.

Harry closed his eyes and groaned. He needed to last as long as possible, which he knew wouldn’t be long with how worked up he’d been and good she felt around him at that moment.

Her shaky limbs were stunted by the rope as he fucked into her fluttering muscle.

“Fuck…” he let out a curse. His own hips stuttered as he struggled to keep it together. But part of her punishment would be to come a couple more times. He knew he could hold out.

She whined and arched her back at the excess of sensations. Her clit was revolting, her pussy was clasping and leaking, her ass was getting stuffed so hard it ached.

Harry buried himself into her and paused for a moment, the little toy buzzing and making him moan. He had to still himself for a moment before he came as his balls were already tightening and preparing for his orgasm.

But the way his orgasm continued to slowly build he knew he had to pull out. The vibrations alone would make him come. He slipped himself out and panted as he held the vibrator inside of her and used his other hand to hold the rope to keep her position for him.

She was making soft little whimpers and her hips were gently swaying as she was trying to fight the hyperstimulation. But she was powerless against it. Because she began to come again for the third time. Harry choked out a moan and watched as her body convulsed and her neck tightened, causing her head to lift upward. Her tensed muscles had her constricted limbs jerking in compact little movements.

When she had come down from her orgasm and began to wiggle away from the vibrator (which was impossible as he kept it in place with his hand) he finally dipped himself back in and gasped. His cock twitched and the sensation was delicious.

“Gonna come again, pet? Bet this will teach you to behave, won’t it?” His words were panted as he languidly pushed and pulled himself into and out of her tight hole. His thick cock was being squeezed and petted by her insides as he sunk into her repeatedly.

He watched her closely as he clenched his jaw holding back his orgasm. He wanted her to come once more before he poured into her.

And it came quickly. When her body tensed again and her soft muted moans grew louder around the gag he began to pump himself into her harder and faster as his release finally took over.

She jerked around him as she came and he pushed into her until his come was filling her. He stopped his hips as he spurted warm sperm from his tip inside her but her body was trembling and lurching.

It was so much. So much. She thought she would simply cease to exist. Her body didn’t feel real. Her insides were melted by his cock and the vibrations from the toy. It seemed as if she didn’t exist as a human, but only a thing that kept coming involuntarily and was being used as a holding vessel for her priest.

When Harry clicked the toy off she felt her heart beating again but her mind was elsewhere. Her body floating in the clouds above.

The priest pulled his cock out and watched as his come dripped from her ass. He’d leave her lying on her side, filled with his come, tied, and gagged as she came down while he finished his homily.

Now he was ready to get his work done. His mind was cleared, his body relaxed. And afterward, he’d untie his sweet girl and kiss her all over, put her in a warm bath, and speak softly to her as he brought her back.

He kissed her temple as he gently laid her on her side, “Stay here and relax. I’ll be back for you, pet.”

She was in a dream state with her eyes closed and her body like jello so she didn’t even notice when he finally returned and his warm hands deftly untied her until her arms and legs were free and the gag was removed. He kissed her wrists and her ankles and her bottom before placing her in a tepid bath. He held her to his chest and whispered to her.

“Such a good girl. I love you, pet. My little sweet submissive. I’m right here when you’re ready.”

She could hear him. His words and his voice but to unscramble the sentence and make any sense of it was difficult at first.

He rubbed his hands up and down her arms and squeezed every now and then to switch up the sensation and bring her back as he continued speaking into her ear, “Tomorrow we’ll have a movie night. Whatever you want to watch,” he chuckled when he felt her move and she groaned lightly, “How does that sound?”

Harry stayed with her and coaxed her back slowly with soft coos and touches, damp presses of his lips on her neck and cheek.

They’d both gotten what they wanted. Harry finished prepping his homily and Y/n had gotten his attention. He adored having her so soft and gooey after she came so many times and her body was limp, but he loved it even more each time she began to come back to him, her doe eyes blinking and soft sighs falling from her mouth.

Helping her dry off and steadying her as he brought her to the couch with a big blanket he tucked her in and brought her a warm tea with honey to share.

“Father?” Her first real words to speak since he’d had her gagged.

He looked at her as he secured her red leather collar back to her neck (which he’d removed before the bath) and her eyes were on his, “Yes, pet.”

“I’m hungry too.”

Harry smiled and took the mug from her hands and placed it on the coffee table.

“You know what? So am I. I’ll make us some cucumber tomato sandwiches with that cheese you like. Does that sound good?”

She nodded and hummed, “Yes, Father. Thank you.”

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582 notes · View notes

xxblairexxss · 10 months

Text

Saving your bacon

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x medicstudent!reader

Theme : Light on angst, more heavy of fluff

Word count : 3.4k

I feel like something’s missing but I’m not sure what it is and I don’t wanna keep this in my draft so I’m just gonna drop and dip. Oh, and I wanted to switch up and play around with reader’s personality instead of sticking to one so this time around, reader is more (idk how to explain) but more bright????? And I also don’t want to write her as someone struggling with her studies just because I think I have seen the same plot a few times around so let’s just say she enjoyed doing what she did. I know you asked for more angry Charles but for some reason I found him more of a people pleaser so it’s hard to write him getting angry at the crowd. 😭

Warnings, inaccurate medical term and procedure, as usual.

Requested!

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Charles was catching up to his favourite series, all sluggish and slothful on his day off when he heard your footsteps and humming got closer and closer to which he immediately took a cushion near him and laid down, pretending to sleep.

“Oh?” Your little skip stopped when you reached the living room. You were so, completely sure he was awake because you sworn you heard him laughed at one of the jokes on the television a few minutes ago. Stepping closer, you saw the way his lashes slightly fluttered as he bit the inside of his lip, holding his smile from exposing his little trick. “You are not sleeping!” You called out and chortled, quickly placing your medical files on the tea table before diving into his embrace, making him groaned from the sudden impact. “I caught you!”

“You got the wind knocked out of me, baby.” He moved a little so you could settle down by his side. “What do you need me to do today?”

“How do you know I was gonna ask for your help?” You cackled in his arm at the way he looked completely unfazed with your requests by now.

“Because this isn’t the first time. I just knew how your steps would sound like if you needed my help.”

“Yeah? How does it sound like?” You sat up and his hand snaked its way under your shirt instantly.

“Can’t explain it in words. Lay down or sit up?”

“Lay down! Wait,” You took back your medical files and scanned through your notes. “Oh, wait! No, no! Sit up and turn that way.”

“That way?”

“Yeah! And close your eyes! I’ll be right back.”

Charles had his eyes shut, sitting up straight facing the balcony of his apartment while trying to catch up with the dialogs coming from the tv series he was watching. “No way! I missed the important scene, did– ouch!” He jolted to the front when something cold was pressed on his neck, sending shiver up to her head. “Babe, what was that?!”

“Ice pack! Sit back down!” You pulled him back and placed the ice pack back on what you imagine the pain would be.

“It’s cold! Can’t we just pretend to use an ice pack instead of– cold! Babe, it’s cold! Instead of using actual ice pack?” You held him by his shirt to stop him from moving away while you repetitively went back to scan through your notes.

“Stay still! I’m trying to get these right! Oh, I need to move it in circular motion and never let it sit for more than 20 minutes on the same spot.” You leaned against his back and giggled. “I nearly gave you frostbite!”

“Are we done yet, babe?” He tilted his head to the side to catch your eyes, while still obeying every instructions.

“Wait, let me do one last check on the C1 and C2 first.”

Charles had always been your some sort of medical dummy ever since you started your medical school residency. You would always come to him whenever you needed to revise some of the notes that you had written as you went through different types of medical or surgical problems. Thought it looked more like you were trying to disturb your boyfriend’s peace, it actually helped you a lot. And though it looked like your boyfriend was trying to hide and ran away whenever you needed his help, he was actually excited to be apart of your dummy, claiming to be his some sort of contribution to your career.

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“Oh, this is sour! Babe, give it a try.” His face was all wrinkled up as he tried to feed you the fruit to which you refused. “Try it.”

“I don’t like sour berries!”

“It’s good though.” He popped another one into his mouth and shivered when the sourness hit, causing you to laugh.

“Your face doesn’t seem like it. I think I picked the wrong batch, baby. We need to let it ripe a little longer.” You sprinkled some salt into the the pot before letting it stir. Charles was too busy chumbling on the berries to realise that you had been staring at him with your arms folded.

“So,” You spoke and he stopped chewing.

“Why? Do I have something on my face?”

“No, but let’s say you come in with your nose bleeding.” You moved closer, half leaning your body against his side with your head tilted up so you could admire his pretty face.

“Ah, so we are doing this?” He pushed the berries away and propped both hand on the kitchen counter. “Okay, let’s pretend my nose is bleeding. What’s next?”

“And I asked you how did your nose bleed. What would you say?”

“Babe, I’m completely lost with whatever topic or disease you are proposing right now.” He hummed, eyes wandered away to think of an answer. “I would say “How I would know, doctor. That’s your job to find out.””

“Charles!” You bursted out laughing and he chuckled along, casually left a soft pinch on your cheek.

“I don’t know, pretty. What should I say?”

“Let’s say you got into a mild accident a few hours ago but you refused to go to the hospital because you thought you were fine but then!” You dramatically gasped and Charles’s eyes widen in amusement. “Then you started feeling blockage in breathing. This is one of the symptoms for?”

His lips curved downwards as he shrugged. “I don’t know. Flu?”

“Wrong!”

“Dang it, that was my best shot. What is it then?”

You giggled and stood on your toes to kiss on his cheek. Charles would always try to answer your questions though he never got any of it right but you just found it adorable how he never gave up because he said he would get it right one day. “Septal hematoma! I need to drain it before it collapses your nasal bridge.”

“Really?! Wow, never knew that. How do you drain it?”

“You are gonna fall asleep before I even start explaining the first procedure. Oh, are we still going to the event tonight?”

“What event?” He raised his brow and his mouth went wide when he realised about it. He was talking about an event a few weeks ago and you decided to tag along. You were rarely seen attended any of his weekend events. Even more after you started your practical and though he never said anything about it, you still felt guilty about it, especially when you saw his pictures at any events that you didn’t attend, all alone while most of his friends would have their partners by their side.

He was a little dubious when you told him you wanted to attend his next event. He didn’t want to make it seems as if he was forcing you to do something that you didn’t want to because he knew both of you have different schedules and accountability as a student and an athlete, or public figure. You had to reassure him that it was something you wanted to do, not because you felt like he was forcing you in some sort of way. A fresh breath of air was the reason that you came up with, professing that you needed to get away from your cases this weekend.

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“Are you sure you want to go?”

“I’m all dressed up!” You clipped on your left earrings and gave a little twirl. You had chosen a satin dress with crisscross backless as it would be the perfect dress considering the event was more leaning towards an informal night out vibe. “Why?You don’t… want me to go?”

“No, that’s not what I meant, babe.” He held your hand, wrapping both of his and your arms on your waist as he turned you around, making you faced the mirror. “You are literally the most beautiful doctor I have ever seen.” He stared at your reflection admiringly, giving a soft smile when he locked his eyes with yours in the mirror and pecked on your neck.

“Nice try, handsome but I’m not a qualified one yet.”

“But you will be.”

“Not if I fail my residency.” You spun your body to face him, hands on his shoulders as you found yourself getting butterflies from seeing his face up close, even after all these years.

“Did you forget how many times you made me suffer with all those on hand practices? It’s impossible for you to fail.” He stole a kiss on your newly applied gloss and left the room before you could scream at him.

“Stop kissing me when I got my lip gloss on!”

“Can’t help myself. Come on, we gotta go.”

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“Is this normal?” You blinked as Charles made the final turn towards the entrance of the club. There were tons of people with cameras hung around their neck gathered in front of the building. They would congregate towards every cars regardless of who it was.

“No, not at all. It might have something to do with the other event that is happening at the casino, I think.” Charles saw you clasped your hands together on your lap and knew what you were feeling even when he didn’t see your face. “You okay, babe?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just a little surprised.”

“It’s okay. I’m not gonna leave you behind. Don’t let go of my hand okay?” He unbuckled his seatbelt and was going to unlock the door, when he stopped himself. “No, babe, hold on. Wait for me.” You retreated your hand from the shotgun door as he hopped off the car. Charles handed his car key to the valet staff who greeted him as he walked around to get to your side. You saw the flash went off, following your boyfriend all the way to your side. Though the front windscreen window was half tinted, you could still see how bright it was.

“Ready?” Charles leaned in, one hand gripped on the door seal and other arm at the end of his car roof to make sure you felt safe and had the people blocked before your could step out.

“Ready!”

He offered a hand, while keeping his other on still gripping of the weatherstrip so the door wouldn’t be opened too wide. “Don’t let go of my hand, okay?” He brushed his lips on your cheek before moving away so you could step out.

The first few interactions with the fans were fine. He was handed notebooks, caps, and shirts to be signed. Even a few selfies here and there. You were gripping on his jacket, a little uneasy when you heard a few men with cameras started shouting and scream. At first it sounded far, as if it came from the casino so it shouldn’t be a problem to you. Soon enough, the shouting went louder as if it was brought closer to you by a wave and the fans who were asking for Charles’s autographs and pictures began yelling out to stop the shove and push. Charles heard the commotion and intertwined his hand with yours before making his way to the building before it got any worse.

The flashes suddenly went off to your direction and you could barely see where you should placed your heels, your free hand immediately tried to shield your face. Even some of the fans from earlier started to get shoved around, some even used it as an opportunity to take closer pictures of both you and Charles.

“Charles..” You breathed out, feeling yourself getting pushed. You could feel the crowd getting closer as you tried go get out of the way. He didn’t reply but you could feel his grip on your hand getting more firm as he tried to step away from the crowd.

“Don’t push!”

“Give them space!”

You kept on hearing the words being shouted over and over amongst the crowd but you still felt all closed up with them getting closer and closer regardless of the orders. You let out a gasp when you lost your balance as the crowd started pushing one another, causing a few of them to accidentally inclined towards you.

He stopped and turned back, looking all worried. “You okay? Baby, here. Hold my arm.” You regained your composure and held, more like clinging on his arm while your other hand still fully secured in his. It felt like forever for you to pass your way through the throng, even with the help of the person in charged because none of them even bother to listen and kept on pushing one another towards you.

“Stop it!”

You heard another howl from one of the crowd when you stumbled back as few people were pushed in front of you, the impact caused your hand to slip away from Charles when you tried to move away from the pack of people, your arms were pressed on your chest while you swayed back and forth from constantly being pushed from every sides.

“Y/N– excuse me!” Charles tried to get back to you but he got pushed back by the crowd even more.

“I can’t– !” He heard you called out to him before your voice was swamped with voices amongst the number of people.

You tried to wrap your arms around your body, feeling as if you taking up the space was the reason why you felt suffocating and squeezed up but a sudden shove caused you to jerk forward. You tried stop your fall with your hand but the impact sent a jolt of pain on your wrist. The pain made you wince as you tried to retract your hand but it was stepped on over and over by the number of feet around you.

“Charles, here.”

He was pulled out from the crowd and was being assisted, more like dragged towards the entrance of the building before he stepped back. “I need to get back to my girlfriend.”

“Leave it to us.”

“No.” He sprinted back out and tried to scan amongst the crowd. It got a little under control now that they had enforced more people in charge though the pushing and shoving was still going on.

“Please let me pass..” It took you a while to get back on your feet and tried to squeeze your way out when a camera was thumped on your face, causing your head to tilt. You couldn’t see anything else other than constant flash and light. You started choking back tears and dabbed on your philtrum when it felt like something warm trickled down your nose.

You tried to move away, hand kept on wiping your philtrum as the blood was still leaking down your nose when you felt a firm grip on your arm, yanking you away and out from the crowd. Charles had saw you in the midst and just grabbed on whatever he could get. The grip was harder that he had wished for but he needed to get you somewhere safe, regardless whatever force he had to use.

Your face was forcefully crashed against something hard but you were too beat to repudiate that you continued to cry against the embrace. It was when the familiar scent hit you when you finally realised it was your boyfriend.

“It’s okay, baby. I got you. I’m so, so, sorry.”

You refused to pull away, your whole body was aching but the stroke on your hair and the strong grip on your back made you feel safe, away from the furore. “I was– “ You sobbed. “I was so scared.”

He could feel you trembling in his hold, your head tried to look back to make sure you were really away from the people. “Y/N– Y/N, look at me. Baby, look at me. You’re okay. I got you. You’re okay.”

He leaned away but you could still feel his body latching against yours. “Fuck, you’re bleeding.” Holding your face in his hands, he started scanning through your pretty face. That was when he actually saw the bruise on your temple, your bloody nose and your flushed cheeks. When he caught you by your arm earlier, he was a little at eased as it felt like you weren’t harm but you were far from it. You kept on sobbing, your hand wiped on your tears that was threaten to fall from your chin. “Let’s go home, alright? I’m taking you home.”

Charles wrapped his arm on your waist as you leaned against him while he tried to get you to his just newly parked car.

“Y/N, a picture!” One of the paparazzi snatched on your sprained arm, causing you to shriek in pain.

“Hands off my girl.” He pushed the guy away, feeling so close to land a punch on that face but he had to hold himself from causing any scene that he knew would feed these people even more. Instead of placing his hand back to your waist, he lifted you up in his arms as you placed one arm across his neck, the sprained arm to your chest. He didn’t know you had any other injury because your hand was out of his sight the whole time.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

“Is your nose still bleeding?”

“I think so…” You dabbed the tissue that Charles had given to you when he got in the car and still found a fresh, wet blood stained.

“Keep on pinching your nose, alright?”

“Where did you learn how to treat nosebleed?” You tilted your head to the side and stared at your boyfriend in surprise.

“From my doctor girlfriend.” He gave your hair a stroke and pressed on the pedal as the light turned green.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

“Baby, stay there. I’m gonna get the first aid kit.” He left you and rummaged through the kitchen drawers. “Let’s treat your wrist first.”

You winced and pulled your arm away when he wanted to place it on his lap. “It hurts..” You didn’t think it was that bad but it still hurt. The tears started to fill your eyes again but you looked away so it wouldn’t roll down onto your already wet cheeks.

“Oh, was it too harsh? Sorry, baby.” He scooted closer and tried to place your hand on his lap more gentle this time. “Here. I’m gonna use– yeah, I’m gonna use the one with velcro.”

“Do you know how to do it?”

“Yeah, I have seen you did it to me before.”

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

flash

Charles groaned a little when he heard you placed all sort of stuffs in front of him. “Babe, can I borrow your hand?” He heard you whispered as you sat cross legged on the floor.

“Right now, baby? Let me sleep 5 more minutes.”

“You can just keep on laying down.” You replied as you pull his hand from under his head. He was laying on his stomach on the couch before you disturbed his peace with the first add kid and your notes with you. “I just need your hand.” He is still in the same position, just his arm dangling from the end of the couch.

“Like this,” He heard you kept on murmuring, as if you were chanting something whilst he was trying to get back to sleep. “and this,” He peered at you first with a frown and soon after a smile formed on his lips. “around the thumb,” You were completely focused on wrapping his hand with the compression bandage, completely unaware and thinking he was still sound asleep. He would always find the little wrinkles in between your brows whenever you were too focused on some things made you look so adorable so instead of dozing back, he was gazing at you with fondness.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

“I thought you were asleep when I wrapped your hand!”

“I wasn’t. Your little mumble kept me awake.” He rolled the elastic compression bandage around your wrist one last time before securing it with the velcro. “There you go. Did I do I right?”

“Yeah!” You held your now fully wrapped wrist. “I think you did it better than me.”

Charles had left you again to get an ice pack and you leaned against the back pillows. You were expecting neon lights and loud music before you left the house, not coming back with bleeding nose, bruise, and a sprained wrist.

“You okay, baby?”

“Yeah, just a little overwhelm. Can we cuddle?” He then took a spot next to you, ice pack still in hand as as you leaned your head on his shoulder. His hand is on your back while you propped your legs on his laps.

“How did you get those bruise on your head?”

“One of the man accidentally hit me on the face but I don’t think it was on purpose.” You were playing with his necklace when dabbed the ice pack on your temple, causing you to move away. “It’s cold!”

“Oh, so now it’s cold? Was it warm when you dabbed it on my neck for no reason a few days ago?” He pulled you closer to dab the ice pack back on your bruise. “Baby, stay still!”

“I’m getting brain freeze! Stop it!” You giggled and pushed him away.

“You are overreacting! It’s not even 20 minutes yet.”

✧.* general tag list! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @f1obessed @love4lando @shinrjj

if your usernames were crossed meaning I can’t tag you 😭 let me know if you would like to be removed or added to the taglist! or if I missed anyone!

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagines #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #f1 imagine #f1 x reader

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alchemistc · 5 months

Text

an: I was cleaning out my drafts and ran into this nearly-finished piece of two disasters having their first kiss. Enjoy.

the way you feel when you kiss him for the first time like fire within your bones like your soul has returned to the water like every part of you that came from a dead star is alive again

Here’s the thing. So. Like.

He’s kissing Eddie Munson, tongue and everything, hands digging into his crazy fucking hair, face twisted sideways because they’d been sitting there next to each other, close enough that their hips were touching, and Eddie was gesturing with both hands thrown wide, so that every once in a while his hand smacked Steve’s chest on accident and he murmured a quick apology before going back to his story, and Steve fucking loved listening to him rant and rave about whatever he had a bug up his ass about on any given day, he loved it so much and it seemed like the thing to do when you loved something about someone so much it made your chest tight and your head a little fuzzy.

Steve twists his head and slots his tongue over Eddie’s lips and Eddie makes a noise that Steve feels down to his fucking toes and he nips, just a bit, swallows up Eddie’s gasp and curls his fingers around his neck and licks into his mouth.

First kisses are usually either tentative or chaotic, and this one is sloppy as all get out but it’s not – it’s good. It’s so fucking good Steve thinks he could happily fucking die right this second and he wouldn’t even be mad about it. Eddie’s teeth slide along Steve’s lower lip when he sucks said lower lip into his mouth and Steve hums and blows a breath out through his nose and fleetingly imagines their entire lives expanding out before them – tables that for another day when he’s done more than make out with Eddie in the woods behind his house.

Eddie pulls back, and Steve chases, a bit, blinks his eyes back open with a pout. “You. What. You?”

It’s – Steve’s done this whole song and dance with half the girls in his age group in Hawkins, rarely ever felt this buzzing under his skin. The desperate urge to claw his way into Eddie’s chest is burning him. That’s…not the usual reaction he gets when he kisses someone.

“What the hell, Harrington? What the fuck?”

And like… okay. So. He’s had crushes before. He’s been in fucking love before and he fucking knows what it feels like and he knows what it means when someone looks at you that way that Eddie looks at him and.

“Fuck, uh… Shit, sorry man. Yeah. Should have, uh…whoops?”

“Whoops?”

Eddie’s on his feet then, his limbs akimbo as he throws his arms out, gesturing vaguely in Steve’s direction, looking at Steve like he’s grown like, three extra heads. Which. Okay so maybe he could have done better at like, explaining what the fuck he was doing but Eddie was so fucking hot when he got really in the zone with some rant or other and Steve’s been like, waiting for him.

“You can’t just go around kissing people, man!”

“I thought you were gay!” Steve says, like that explains a damn fucking thing, and Eddie whirls on him, wild eyed, like Steve’s just shouted some tightly kept secret to the world and… yeah. Alright. Fair.

“I thought you were the straightest fucking dude in America, Steve, what the fuck?”

“Oh,” Steve says, because that, yeah. That tracks. Okay. So. Yeah, he can work with this.

He runs a jittery hand through his air, glances up at Eddie through a few strands that cut loose from the hairspray. “Yeah uh, so I guess like, no? Chicks are like, great but then here you are being so fucking adorable I wanna like, put you in my fucking pocket to keep you safe and like, take you out on a date and, I don’t know, suck your cock or something. Which is.”

He’s rambling now, doesn’t know what to do with his hands.

“Okay so like I guess I didn’t really think about the ramifications of this before I fucking went for it but I have been thinking about your lips on my lips for way longer than I have been acknowledging to myself and you weren’t fucking doing anything about it and I just thought I could. Do something about it. So um…no. Not. Not straight.”

Steve imagines, for a moment, Hawkins High jocks fading out of the shadows to beat the shit out of him, bible thumping mothers intent on letting him know his sins will destroy the country and land him straight in hell, his own father telling him he won’t have a fag for a son. Feels really fucking shitty about it for about thirty seconds and then remembers he’s saved the world at least four times and internally tells them all to go fuck themselves.

“Hey, is there a word for that? Liking both? Do you – fuck, is there like, a handbook? Do you even know? Did – but then you’re – I mean I definitely for sure got the feeling you and Robin have more in common than just being really great at saving the world, also you for sure kissed me back and – holy shit Robin’s gonna be pissed you found out before she did.”

Eddie stares at him in abject horror for about thirty seconds, but it’s not – it’s not judgy, at least, it’s more like Steve looks at Robin when she word vomits. “Jesus H Christ did you just speed run gay panic?” Which – Robin has explained that before and if Eddie knows about it then he probably also is not…not gay.

“I don’t think I’m strictly gay!” Steve says, his voice a little higher than he’d like but Eddie is pacing now, which. Not conducive to more kissing, and it’s literally all Steve wants to be doing right now. “It might not even be dudes in general, I haven’t gotten any further than you!”

“What the fuck, Harrington?” And pacing be damned, Steve hops up and cages Eddie in again, leans forward for a kiss because he’s not, like, saying no, he’s just confused because he didn’t think Steve was into it and kissing will definitely help him figure it out. Only he rolls his head back, away from Steve’s, shoulders and neck rolling back. The rest of him stays, though, and Steve slots his hands on Eddie’s narrow waist and stares at him.

“I’m like, super into you, Eddie, and unless I’m suddenly really fucking bad at reading signals you’re also into me.”

Eddie leans forward, rolls his forehead against Steve’s. It’s nice. Not as nice as the kissing had been but…yeah, he’s cool with this. Eddie huffs out a breath of laughter, a self-deprecating little chortle that Steve recognizes and wants to dash away. “I’ve been trying really hard not to throw those signals. Just. Just so you know.”

“You’re really bad at it,” Steve tells him, fingers digging a bit into his side now, his left hand sliding towards Eddie’s back, and he doesn’t really think about it when he exerts a bit of force to drag Eddie a little closer. “To be like, fully clear here. I’m not… I haven’t been misreading, correct?”

“Fuck,” Eddie says, those wide dark eyes holding Steve’s. “This is insane. People don’t just wake up one day and go ‘hey I’m actually totally attracted to my own gender and I have literally zero bad feelings about that’ – people kill themselves about it.”

“Nearly died enough times to know I don’t care for it,” Steve tells him, and he really, really wants to fucking kiss him again but probably Eddie needs a second. “Listen, do you like me or not, because if not I am seriously overstepping right now and I don’t actually want to make this weird.”

“This is so fucking weird, man,” Eddie says but then he’s curling his fingers into the end of Steve’s shirt and fisting it there before Steve has a chance to draw back and respect his boundaries, like he’s holding himself back from more but not quite ready to let go. Steve follows his lead. “Did Robin say something?”

“Robin has been literally zero help,” Steve admits, because she really has been fucking useless and cagey and completely unwilling to give him any idea if this whole thing is reciprocated or just a fully fucking unrequited crush. “I am actually pretty emotionally intelligent, so I figured…” God he’s giving Steve that look. Again. “Vibes were there.”

“Vibes.” Eddie says, like he wants to bash his brains in. “You… you just threw all caution to the wind on fucking vibes.”

“Vibes are a thing!”

Eddie curls the hand not already fisting in Steve’s shirt around his waist, his long fingers catching at the stripe of skin exposed by the pull of his shirt. Every thought in Steve’s head feels like it’s centered right there, where he can feel Eddie’s rings warm against his skin.

Steve is like, 97.3 percent certain at this point that he hasn’t just ruined a decently important friendship, and he really, really does want to return to that zenith of his tongue in Eddie’s mouth, so he rolls his head again, nosing at Eddie’s cheek, reaching for his jaw.

Eddie shoves him back – slowly, regretfully almost.

“Give me a fucking second, Harrington.”

“Sure. Yeah.”

Even as Eddie goes back to pacing Steve feels good about this. Eddie Munson is probably a lot more accepting of things than most of the assholes in Hawkins but he has yet to tell Steve to go fuck himself and he seems more…overwhelmed than anything else. Surprised. He had just admitted he thought Steve didn’t go for that thing. Had he thought about it, beyond a passing ‘Steve the Hair Harrington digs the ladies’?

Jesus. He’s so fucking embarrassing. Even in his own goddamn brain.

Eddie whirls on him, opens his mouth. Shuts it and takes a few pointed steps further away from Steve. Steve very much hates that, but – time. Space. He can manage that. He takes the opportunity to enjoy the pull of Eddie’s jeans over his ass.

Holy shit, Steve thinks to himself as he ogles the other man, holy shit he’s so very much not straight and it’s taking every ounce of willpower to give Eddie his fucking second.

“You’re a fucking psycho,” Eddie says, and it’s probably aimed at Steve even though he still hasn’t actually turned back to look at him again. “You fully understand that what you just did screams absolute lunatic, right?”

“The – which part, exactly?”

“Steve, what if I wasn’t gay?”

It’s – kind of a sad question, if he’s being honest, because he’s suspected he likes dudes for maybe two weeks, even if it’s been nagging at him for literal months now, but he’s been that shitty kid who called people queer like it was the dirtiest word in the book, and he’s well aware at this point how fucking scary it is for anyone who is the least bit not ‘normal’ by societies standards. Especially if it’s actually true.

“I mean, I assume you’d probably give me a lot of shit and I would spend a good month too mortified to look at you before you let me off the hook?” But that question gets a little closer to the heart of it, the one thing Steve’s still a little worried about. “But…you are?”

“How the fuck did you even know?”

“The vibes!” He wiggles his fingers at that, widens his eyes like that will help Eddie understand. “And, you know. The general feeling every time you look at me like you’re half a second from eating me alive.”

“I do not!” Eddie says, a little scandalized, a little like he’s been caught out.

“You totally do. You have…very expressive eyes.” This is new. Just balls to the wall flaying honesty, right off the bat, no hiding behind a slick smile and a clever little wink. What even is flirting, Steve thinks. In for a penny, in for a pound. “I fully thought you were gonna bend me over a table at Gary’s party last weekend.”

“Jesus fuck,” Eddie says, only he’s still not denying it, and he’s turning those same round shining eyes on Steve and – yeah. That is not a platonic fucking look. “I’m gonna take, like, three steps towards you right now. Can you. Not fucking attack me when I get there?”

“Yeah. Sure. Totally.” Robin and Nancy once ganged up on him to tell him he was basically a golden retriever in human form, and he feels every inch one as Eddie takes long, measured steps towards him. If he had a tail he’d be wagging it so fucking hard his ass would be wiggling.

“Full disclosure,” Eddie tells him at a step and a half in. “I was actually thinking about getting on my knees and sucking you off until your soul left your body, at Gary’s party, last weekend.” Steve bites his lip, doesn’t say a word, ignores the heat thrumming in his veins. “Don’t you dare kiss me right now, Harrington,” he says, and there’s an edge to his voice that is very fucking interesting and Steve would like to explore more.

“Yep. Hands and lips to myself. Gotcha.”

“I also had a massive panic attack about it like five minutes later because you’re the best person I know and I will be fully, absolutely destroyed if I lose you, so. Before I set myself adrift here, are you sure you have a single fucking clue what you’re getting yourself into?”

“See, that’s the thing!” Steve points, just as Eddie takes another step, so his finger ends up right in Eddie’s face and he’s eyeing it like he might just pop it into his mouth. In for a penny… “You got really mad at me when you thought I was avoiding you, and I very much, totally was because I have like, two age appropriate friends and figuring out one of them might be the love of my life threw me for a fucking loop.” Too soon, way too fucking soon, he was supposed to like, at least get Eddie in his bed before he admitted that. “So. I’ve already had that crisis and I know I lied and told you it was nothing but that’s. What that was.”

The look shifts. Eddie’s eyes were already wide, so his expression doesn’t change all that much, but his eyes get a little glassy and the dimple in his cheek twitches.

“Whoops,” Steve repeats and Eddie gathers up the hand Steve still has between them, guiding the arm down towards Steve’s side, lacing their fingers up together as he gets close enough Steve can feel his breath on his cheek.

“You’re an actual lunatic,” Eddie tells him, but he’s leaning in close, now, curling a hand around Steve’s neck. “Whoops, he says,” and Eddie shakes his head fondly, close enough that the tip of his nose swipes across Steve’s with the movement. “How long?”

“We’re still not kissing, right?” Steve asks, just to clarify, and Eddie smiles, shakes his head. “Yep. Still good with that. Sure. How long what?”

“Don’t play dumb, princess.”

“I mean – are you asking about me? Are you asking about me knowing about you? Are you asking about attraction, or feelings, or…”

“Sure,” Eddie says, and Steve supposes he walked himself into that. He’s still – Steve could count individual lashes dashed across Eddie’s eyelids, he’s so close.

“Yeah. Alright. Me? Been trying to sort it out for a while, I think, since Vecna. For sure? Two weeks ago, when you made me come watch your campaign finale, or whatever.” Eddie’s eyes gleam with interest, and Steve can see him searching for a specific moment, but it hadn’t been a specific moment, it had been an amalgamation of the last seven months of his life, and watching Eddie in his element, threading together a sweeping close to a tale he’s been working on for a full year, seeing the kids delighted faces, thinking about all the shit they’d been through and all the terrible things they’ve seen, it had all clicked into place. “You? I didn’t know, know. Just. Robin’s always saying there are signs, if you look for them. I hoped. I was looking for them.”

Had to talk himself into and out of reading into signs multiple times, honestly.

“I had some very confusing boners before I understood them, so I can’t really pinpoint that one, but a while,” and Eddie’s lips curl up, which is nice. It’s one of his favorite things to do, making Eddie smile like that. “The… I liked you from the start, is the thing, so there isn’t just a single moment but… you remember that night we got up on the roof of the van and got way too fucking high?”

“You couldn’t find the Big Dipper,” Eddie recalls fondly.

“Yeah, well, you were right there next to me, being all freakishly smart about constellations and looking at me and when you told me about your mom I wanted to just – tear the whole fucking world apart for you. So.”

“So,” Eddie says, and his voice has gone whisper soft and his breath is fanning across Steve’s face and his eyes are big and brown and soft at the edges.

“We’re still doing the no kissing part, right?”

Eddie hums. Tilts his head to the side just a bit, and his nose stripes across Steve’s cheek. “I could probably be persuaded otherwise.”

It’s – he’s –

“If I admit the panic might be coming on now, will you change your mind?”

“Absolutely.”

“Cool. I’m very chill about this.”

“Steve,” he says, and his voice is so fucking soft, and his fingers are skittering up the side of Steve’s arm.

“Freaking out a little bit. Don’t – you can stay here, though.”

“I’ll stay here as long as you need.”

“While we’re here, you could – I mean I know I said I clocked you pretty easily but if you wanted, I would definitely be okay hearing about – how. How that happened.”

Eddie’s eyes flit up, hold Steve’s. “You lying about anxiety to get me to tell you my dirty secrets?”

“I’m not that smart,” Steve tells him, and Eddie’s smile tilts up at the corners.

#steddie ficlet #steddie #steve x eddie #steve is a chaotic bisexual #that's just a fact.

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dragon-teaparty · 1 year

Text

“ I Love You Too ” - Leon Kennedy x Reader

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

ok so first off, i'm so fucking MAD bc tumblr didn't save my draft when it suddenly closed the app to update so i have to rewrite this ENTIRE THING

i'm actually so mad about it, i swear i was about to just not write this. i'm gonna rip my hair out i swear

anyway, i'm back with another story :3 this time it's more wholesome and fluffy

-------------------------------

summary: you and leon become even closer than before (gn reader btw)

It was nearly sunset. You and Leon were in his backyard, just enjoying the weather. You had begun to play fight, something that was common amongst you both.

Usually, it would be typical banter but you'd always say something that would set Leon off, and now was one of those moments.

You said something about his driving and teased him about every time he crashed a vehicle. Of course you had to make some snarky comment about his license.

Before you could bolt off, Leon grabbed you by the waist, causing you to yelp and giggle.

He swept you off your feet and held you in his arms bridal style. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck.

"Hey, c'mon!" You laughed, wiggling in his grasp. "You're like 80 tons of muscle, it's no fair!"

Leon chuckled. "Can't take what you dish out, huh?"

You and Leon were very close. Your connection was obvious to those who even glanced at you. You weren't dating, no, but a lot of people sure thought you were.

It was clear how much Leon genuinely cared for you. You had been his light in the darkness of the horrors he's seen in Raccoon City and the mission to Spain to save the president's daughter. It was difficult for him to let people in and the trauma only made it worse.

Of course, Ada had to do something with this as well. Her betrayal all those years ago still weighed heavy on Leon's heart. He was still confused, hurt, and angry all the same. Although he was glad to see Ada alive, he couldn't help but have a taste of bitterness for her. A bitterness that just wouldn't wash off of his tongue no matter how much the mercenary tried to make things better.

You were different. So much different than any other person he'd ever known.

Everything about you was perfect in Leon's eyes. Your laugh, your smile, your sense of humor, the way you'd look away and squeal when you were excited about something. It made him smile.

You had successfully torn down the walls Leon had built and he was more than happy about that. Of course, the initial part of getting to know you was rather irritating for him, he didn't want to talk about his feelings or let anyone see this side of him. You had been a ray of sunshine on his cold heart.

"Put me down!" You squeaked, squirming around.

Leon let out an exasperated huff. "Okay, okay!" He chuckled and then gently placed you back down on your feet. He immediately pulled you into a hug to which you happily accepted.

Your love for Leon was just as strong as his love was for you. You always had more romantic feelings for him but you never admitted it in fear of ruining the special bond you two had.

"I missed you while I was away," Leon spoke up, still holding you against his chest.

You smiled at this. "i missed you too." You said, your voice becoming quiet. "I always miss you."

Leon felt a pang in his heart when you said that. His job was dangerous and there was always the risk of losing his life. He knew how much you worried and he hated it.

He never really thought much about how dangerous being an agent is since he was so used to it at this point. Seeing you worry made him feel guilty.

"I know," he replied softly. "But you know I'll always come back to you, right?"

You nodded, burying your face into his chest.

As much as Leon reassured you that he'd always come home safe, you couldn't help but have the thought in the back of your mind.

When he was away, your nights were often sleepless and you found it difficult to get things done from how worried you got sometimes.

The thought of losing Leon was crushing and you couldn't stand it.

"Hey," Leon spoke, pulling away a little to look at you. "I promise." His expression was soft and his tone sweet and reassuring.

You couldn't hold it back. As you looked up at him and heard his words, tears swelled in your eyes and they began spilling. Leon pulled you back into his arms and you hugged him back once more. He shushed you quietly, running his fingers through your hair and murmuring soft reassurances.

The two of you had stood there in each other's arms for quite a while. By the time you two parted, the sun had finally dipped below the horizon. The moonlight shines through the branches and leaves of the tree you were under, illuminating you both.

Leon couldn't help but admire you. You looked so beautiful underneath the soft glow of the night sky. Your eyes always appeared to sparkle in the light but they looked especially like stars here. He found himself not being able to tear his eyes away from you.

You looked back up at him and into his pretty blue eyes.

He reached over and gently cupped your cheek with one hand. "I'm never leaving you, y'know." He whispered, once again reassuring you with a genuine smile spreading across his face. "You can't get rid of me that easy."

You smiled back, your heart fluttering as you leaned into his touch, placing your hand on his own.

"Oh, I know," you said, your tone turning more playful. "You really don't know when to quit, Kennedy."

Leon laughed, a genuine laugh that you and you alone had ever heard. He looked back at you, a comfortable silence suddenly falling upon you both.

You felt yourself get lost in Leon's eyes. The baby blue was so mesmerizing to you.

The way you looked at him didn't help either, it made his heart jump out of his chest.

The way you looked at one another was undeniable. The fondness and love in your eyes, like you were a golden treasure in the middle of the rubble in both of your minds.

As Leon looked at you, he had an overwhelming urge to just admit his feelings. He loved you so much and he wanted to shout it out loud, pour out his heart to you.

Instead, he simply leaned in, his lips softly pressing against your own.

Your eyes widened, not expecting the sudden gesture at all but you melted into the kiss, your eyes closing shut.

It felt like fireworks had gone off in your brain, butterflies swarmed your tummy, tickling your insides. You almost couldn't believe this was happening.

Leon held the kiss for a little while longer before he pulled away, looking into your eyes. His expression was so soft and loving.

"I love you," you finally spoke, blurting out the words as you were unable to hold them back anymore. You surprised yourself, a blush quickly creeping across your cheeks.

Leon smiled. For the first time in years, he actually felt complete, he felt so loved and safe. This feeling was almost enough to drive him to tears. Never in his life had he ever felt this way about another person before.

He pulled you close again and planted another kiss on your lips before he pulled away again, looking down at you with a grin that he just couldn't get rid of.

"I love you too."

-------------------------

phew! this one is definitely not as good as the one i originally had and that upsets me a lot :'c

i hope you all liked it anyways! love u guys <3

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littlejuicebox · 4 months

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Hello Gina! Been loving your stories a lot specially Astarion talks in his sleep and My Sun, My Moon 1&2! which is why I wanna try if you can do a one shot of their 1st anniversary of marriage! 🤭 just wondering how it was for them, usually they say the 1st year is the toughest one but i wanna see how you see it 🤭 Many thanks!! i look forward to more stories!

Hello, my friend! <3

I really love this prompt! Marriage is hard and Astarion has his quirks that would def make him frustrating to Tav! Love isn't always sunshine and rainbows.

I took this in a slightly different direction, it's a reflection on their first major argument! Hope you like it. <3

Warnings/Tags: not edited or beta read / In-game spoilers, fluff/angst w comfort / married people having an argument / this follows my HC fics for redemption Astarion x Tav but I'm pretty sure it can be read as a OneShot

Word Count: 1.7K

-----

Astarion cannot concentrate on the blasted contract in front of him any longer. The delivery should have been here by now.

He only had a few hours before you returned from the Upper City and his entire plan for your first anniversary would be shot if the florists didn’t hurry the hells up.

“You said they would arrive by midday and now it’s nearly teatime, Pascal!” Astarion snaps at his steward, a middle-aged human with wide set eyes and a scar running horizontally along his nose bridge.

Pascal sits on the far end of Astarion’s office, reviewing a ledger. He slowly raises his eyes from the document to meet the petulant visage of his employer.

“That is what the florist told me, my Lord. But it is quite a large order. Fifty night-blooming plants and shrubs would likely take several carts, sir. It’s certainly possible they’ve run into delays along the way.” Pascal responds, his voice gentle but unbothered, as if he’s grown used to placating the moods of the vampire over the past year.

Astarion simply huffs in response, “We did not pay a premium for those ingrates to simply—“

He stops as his highly acute hearing catches the sound of wheels turning along the manor’s pebbled drive. By the raucous sound of it, there are several wagons making their way towards the home's entrance.

“Pascal, they're here. I will go greet them; round up the other servants and have them stop what they’re doing immediately. We will need all hands to make up for lost time.” Astarion says as he tosses the contract he’d been reviewing, leaving it with a large stack of papers scattered across his desk.

Several of those papers had the remnants of ink splotches and blood splatters from an hours-long drafting session he’d done on a business proposal the day prior. The goblet he'd been drinking from yesterday, dirtied with now-dried blood, sits haphazardly in the corner of the desk.

Astarion struggled to contain his natural propensity toward sloppiness. His mind often worked far too quickly for him to slow down and pay attention to trivial things like bloodstains and spilled ink.

However, after multiple gentle chastisements and one angry explosion from you, he’d managed to curb his disorganization to his office, which you accepted. The argument you two had, prior to coming to this arrangement, had truly terrified him.

The pale elf makes sure to grab the goblet and place it out in the foyer for the maid to grab; she had never been allowed to enter the master bedchambers or his office, for privacy. You two were responsible for keeping those areas tidy. Astarion did... almost nothing to his office, while you kept everything pristine in the bedroom.

Except for that one time before the argument. His mind wanders as he exits the office, reflecting on the memory that keeps him cleaning up his goblets.

-----

He could tell by your voice alone that you were angry. Furious, in fact. The sound ripped him away from the contractor agreement he'd been reviewing.

“Astarion! How many times do I have to ask you to not leave cups of blood in the bedchambers!” Your voice came booming down the hallway before you burst into the office, causing the door to slam into the wall with a loud thud. His eyes caught sight of the angry red splotches on your face, and then trailed down to your wedding dress, clutched in your shaking hand.

There was a large, crimson bloodstain smattered along the train. He almost fainted at the sight.

So many hours of his own work. Drenched in blood.

“I’d laid this out for the servants to frame today, and Scratch ran into the bedroom and knocked the goblet of blood — that you left there, completely full, by the way — off your nightstand and onto the dress!” You were waving the grown vehemently as you spoke, voice cracking toward the end.

Oh, his little love was infuriated. His gut sank at the thought.

The anger in your voice sounded entirely foreign, it was rare for you to speak in such a manner to anyone. But towards him? Never. You always spoke to him in soft, adoring tones and little whispers. The only time you truly raised your voice had been in bed, and he rather liked it then.

But this? He did not like this one bit. It made his undead heart thrum with anxiety.

“My love, I—“ He begins, his voice honeyed and smooth in the usual tone he used to appease you, but you cut him off.

“I’m sick of your excuses and your words, Astarion! I’m sick of cleaning up after you! I have asked you more than once to not bring blood into the bedroom and you've deliberately ignored me. And the one time I don’t remove the damned goblet from the bedchamber look what happened! I can’t keep—“

You were crying by then. Large, angry tears rolling in streams down your face as you swiped angrily at your eyes. That dress, and the hours of work he'd put into it, had been a testimony of his love to you. His actions had made your heart soar; seeing the gown ruined caused your heart to break entirely.

And Astarion's heart almost broke at the sight of his little love so distraught, but he had no words nor actions to soothe you.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath; he watched as the patches of red faded from your cheeks. When you opened them, the sight scared him and when you spoke, he was terrified.

Your face was blank, unreadable. Your tone was resigned. In that moment, in the absence of any discernible emotion, he felt certain you were going to leave him.

Eight months into a marriage and he was already failing; he knew he hadn't been cut out for this.

“I am very patient with you, Astarion. We both knew this wouldn’t be easy… with well, everything. Your condition, navigating my newfound fame, easing back into normalcy when we both have our baggage... but I chose this. I chose you. I choose you every day. Over and over. A hundred times a day."

You paused, and your eyes flicked between his, searching for something.

“I just wish I felt like you were still choosing me, too.”

And then you were gone. You left the dress crumpled on the floor as you turned and walked away.

As he moved from his desk to pick the garment up from the ground, he heard you call for Scratch and exit the front door. The sun was out, he couldn't follow you. And even if he did, there would be nothing he could say to placate you. He needed to give you time and space and wait for you to come to him; it was something he’d learned over the past eight months. Although he hated it.

So, he stayed in his office, trying to work, and failing at that, too.

After a few more hours, it was time to head to bed. When he entered your shared bedroom, he realized the goblet you'd spoken about had splattered over the sheets and onto the carpet, as well. He removed the goblet from the bedroom and placed it in the foyer; and then he changed the sheets, which you usually did. He waited for you to come to bed, but you never showed. Hadn’t he given you enough time by now?

Eventually he traveled to the guest chambers, certain you must be there sulking, and when he attempted to enter the room, the door was locked. He knocked tentatively on the door.

"Tav, darling--"

"No. And don't you dare pick the lock, Astarion."

"Tav, my sweet, please--"

"Please, Astarion. Please just leave me alone."

He wanted to pick the lock. Wanted to break down the door. Wanted to hold you in his arms and whisper apologies in your ear until you forgave him. But you always told him that his actions spoke louder than his words; honeyed lamentations would not work on you. Another thing he’d learned this past eight months.

And then he thought of the dress, which he'd left draped across the sofa in his office.

While you slept, Astarion set to work. He could have outsourced the task, sure... but truthfully, he did not trust anyone else with the fine detailing work he had spent several hours doing with his own hands. He'd created the masterpiece himself, after all, so perhaps it was best he restores it himself.

He worked gently, and for several hours, scrubbing the blood out of the fine fabric. His time with Cazador had taught him many things, and unfortunately a skill he used more often than he liked happened to be removing bloodstains from nearly any fabric.

By the time the gown was restored, his hands were raw from hours immersed in the harsh combination of soaps, chemicals, and water. It was past noon when he finished; you had certainly risen by now, but you hadn't come looking for him.

Astarion asked Pascal to place the gown in the sunroom to dry and then resigned himself to his office, back to reviewing contracts.

It was several hours later when you knocked on the office door, eyes downcast and face remorseful.

He didn't say anything, he just simply opened his arms and you crossed into the office before folding yourself in his lap. A few moments of quiet passed between you.

"I saw what you did to the dress. It must have taken hours... thank you." You finally whispered as your face nestled into the side of his neck. Your hot breath tickled, and he hummed in acknowledgement.

"It did, darling. And the skin on my hands certainly is not happy about it," He starts, and your hand comes to his as you bring it closer to your face, examining the uncharacteristically cracked knuckles and reddened flesh, "But you are worth the effort. And more. I'm sorry about the cups, my love.”

You placed a kiss on his chapped knuckle. An acceptance of the apology. And then you turned to face him and pressed a soft, tentative peck on his lips that made his entire body melt into you. Before long you two wound up on the floor of his office, and he made sure to use his actions to ensure you knew just how much he cared about you. How much he chose you.

And every day since then, he'd been certain to no longer bring goblets in the bedroom, and always leave them sitting in the foyer for the maid regardless of what room he was in. A tiny daily action signifying his love for you.

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