#but at the end of the day i believe that reading should always be something that's FUN
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three dates to fall in love
part one. part two. part three. part four. part five (here). part six (coming soon).
pairing : hyunjin x gn!reader
summary : after a two year long unspoken hatred, hyunjin and you are forced to be costars in a romantic series, but when it comes to filming any of the romance scenes, you both utterly fail and are unable to get through your lines. the director threatens to take your roles away if you two aren't able to get past this within the next week, which spawns the genius idea from both your managers: can you learn to (fake) fall in love in seven dates and save your careers?
wc : 2.5k
cw : actor!au, enemies to lovers ?!, slowburn , not proofread, nothing crazy :)
a/n : im back from my hiatus and omggg i graduated from my masters program wahoooo! here's part five. let me know what you think! theres not much going on here to be honest........ its pretty chill
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“Yo,” Changbin answers from the other end of the line, his heavy breaths echoing through the call.
“Are you still working out?” Hyunjin asks incredulously, pulling the phone back to check the time, “You said you were going to the gym two hours ago and you’re still there?”
“Gotta keep these bad boys in shape, ya know?” Changbin teases, a giggle ringing through as he is most, (and he is), checking himself out in the mirror, “What’s up though? Did you just get home?”
“At this point, you look more like a bodyguard than my manager.”
“I take that as a compliment! Thank you very much, but I believe you have something to discuss with me, hm?”
“I mean, it went well?” Hyunjin responds with uncertainty in his voice, causing Changbin to sigh from the other end of the line.
“Is that all..? Are you just going to call me every time to tell me only that?” Changbin asks with annoyance, unable to understand the actor’s unwillingness to share anything more about the arrangement he found himself in. “You know, I’ll just end up calling Chan and hearing it from him instead…”
“Huh?”
Changbin smirks to himself, knowing that would capture the younger’s attention, “Yeah, you know, Y/N has a lot to say. I know all about it. It’s the only way I know how things are going.”
“What do they say?”
“Why do you care?”
“I just do.”
“And I should tell you because…?”
Hyunjin frowns at the back-and-forth, feeling peeved Changbin, his manager, wasn’t divulging any information upfront, “Because I’m the one going on dates with them and I should probably know…?”
“I’ll tell you if you tell me how today went.”
“It went well, I already told you that.”
“Tough luck, buddy, that won’t do. How unfair, especially when Y/N has sooo much to say,” Changbin dramatically mocks a sob, “Yet you, oh, you have so little to offer. It’s like you’re not enjoying any of it.”
Hyunjin rolls his eyes at his antics, frustration bubbling within him, “I am enjoying it and it is going well. Is that good enough for you?”
“Nope.”
“Okay.”
“Okay… So, can I hang up now?”
“No.”
“So you want me to stay on the phone in silence with you?” Changbin asks, a smirk still plastered on his face because he knew, eventually, Hyunjin would relent to Changbin’s teasing. It was always like this, Hyunjin was hard to read and never shared much with Changbin, which honestly makes his job as his manager a lot more difficult than he’d like. The only times Hyunjin would be transparent with him about his emotions was when he was complaining about something, or the time he panickedly called him after his very unfortunate date with you, and how he realized what a big mistake he had made. Other than that, Hyunjin lips were always sealed tight. Either because he was a private person or was bad at vocalizing his feelings, Channgbin didn’t know, but he was getting annoyed at Hyunjin calling him after every day with the same three words every time. ‘It went well.’ God, those words were pissing him off and he felt like his time was being wasted because now, he had to call Chan and find out from him what was going on. After another few moments of silence, Changbin sighs once more, “Okay, I’m hanging up now —”
“N-no, wait!” Hyunjin interrupts him, a slight tremor in his voice.
“Okay, now I’m waiting.”
“Today went well, and I know I already said that, let me finish,” rambles Hyunjin, the words slowly clawing their wait up his throat, “It’s just… it’s a lot nicer than I thought it would have been. They’re super kind and welcoming to me even though I was a complete asshole to them.”
Changbin smiles victoriously to himself, ecstatic to finally hear this simple, yet salient confession out of the younger boy, “Oh, that’s good then. Sounds like they’re doing their best to make it work.”
“Yes, but I also… feel really bad about it too,” Hyunjin grimaces at the guilt he had been trying to ignore, it sneaking up to the forefront of his mouth as he speaks, “I really don’t think I deserve any of this from them, but they’re treating me sorta like nothing ever happened before and it’s a little weird to get use to this side of them. The more I realize how wrong I was about them, the shittier I feel.”
“Man, I don’t blame you, but I think you gotta give yourself some credit. It sounds like you both are handling this weird situation the best you can. Have you told them this?”
“Yeah, and that’s what makes this feel worse. They were so sweet about it, they comforted me when I was the one who hurt them,” groans Hyunjin, pinching the bridge of his nose as he squeezes his eyes shut, “And they… they said they need time to forgive me, which is fine! I get that entirely, but… I don’t think I’ll be able to forgive myself until they do?”
“Mhm, I understand what you’re feeling isn’t easy, but don’t you think you should at least try to be nicer to yourself? I mean… It sounds like Y/N cares about you enough, and if they want you to feel better about the situation, shouldn’t you try for their sake?”
“I guess, but it’s not that easy, Changbin –”
“I never said it was easy,” Changbin responds pointedly, “But wallowing up in guilt is no way to be living either, I’m sure Y/N knows that too and doesn’t want you beating yourself up this much about it when you’re both trying to move forward.”
“I don’t know…”
“Just give it a try, it won’t hurt. You can hold yourself accountable and still be nice to yourself. Alright, but I have to go now, so byeee!”
Hyunjin frowns, “Wait, no, you’re supposed to tell me–” only for him to be cut off by the sound of the call ending, “... what Y/N said…”
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Hyunjin decided to take both yours and Changbin’s advice to heart and do his very best to practice compassion, yet he forgot how terribly difficult that was until the next day arrived. In theory, it should be simple to just be nicer to himself, but his heart kept contorting and aching with guilt throughout the day, it becoming too much to bear as he tried to figure out how to control that emotion. He had to eventually learn to be in your presence without that harrowing, bottomless pit that would form in his stomach, especially if you two were going to be costars for the rest of filming.
So here he was, his face and ears tinged with red as he sat across you on a picnic blanket, an assortment of foods between you two, and a gentle breeze causing locks of your hair to dance. Despite the chilly weather, Hyunjin could feel himself being covered in what he can only describe as a cold sweat while his stomach flipped onto himself. He was nervous, anxious even, and he had zero clue on how to deal with what he called guilt, shame, humiliation. He wasn’t sure which word was the best descriptor for this very moment, but he could barely sit still, constantly fidgeting as he tried to turn his gaze away from you, hoping the blues of the lake would ease his nerves that had not stopped rapid firing since noon.
“You okay?” You ask, lifting a sushi piece to your mouth as you eyed Hyunjin with a cocked up eyebrow.
He freezes up for a moment, before forcing a nervous smile with a nod, “Oh, yeah, I’m fine!” He tries to force his voice into a more cheery tone, but he can tell you could see right through him. Somehow, you could read the faintest microexpressions from him, but he’s thankful to see you shrug your shoulders and not press on any further. It was almost as if you had the ability to read his mind, knowing when it was right to question his behavior or just let him revel in his own thoughts.
“Well, you should eat some more! I need some help finishing all this food Changbin ordered for us,” you laugh, picking up a piece of sushi between your chopsticks and lifting it towards him, “Here, open up!” you say in a teasing tone.
He rolls his eyes, “You know, I can feed myself,” but he felt his stomach bubble up with inexorable nerves, his words almost getting caught in his throat. You playfully pout at his words, “Oh, c’mon, just eat it! I know you want to.” You wiggle the sushi in front of his face in some poor attempt to entice him, but it was only causing him to become uncomfortably warm as he did his best to look anywhere that wasn’t your face. “Fine, fine,” he responds, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible as he opens his mouth as you plop the sushi into it, the beating of his heart thumping loudly in his ears.
“Good, right?” You smile.
He nods his head, his eyes crinkling at the overwhelming flavor as hums in agreement, “Wow, yeah, which one was that?”
“Mmm, I think that one is toro salmon? I’m not sure,” you giggle at his reaction, feeling pleased with yourself that you managed to whittle away at the awkwardness he wore around you. Hyunjin was constantly on edge around you, the nerves obvious in the frown lines of his forehead, and while you could understand why, you were hoping he would start to loosen up around you as time went on. Despite everything that has occurred over the past two years, you were starting to yearn for the friendship you and Hyunjin once had and wished to be able to return to that comforting time.
However, it was never that simple, as your desire for his friendship was often overshadowed with memories of his cruel words, how easily he spat them out to you without a moment of hesitation. A moment of innocent banter could just take you back to that time because somehow, his banter and cruelty shared a similar inflection, just enough to cause your eyes to prick with tears if you noticed it. The lasting impact his words had on you was a stark reminder for you to not so easily forgive him, to not forget what he was once capable of. But no matter how hard you tried to look past it and solely focus on your friendship with him, there was this inexplicable rift between you two, a hurdle neither you could just quite jump over, though perhaps it was this mutual understanding that allowed you both to understand each others’ quietness. It was strange, you two had become strangers that understood the language your souls’ whispered, but neither retained that fluency and were struggling to recall the words you once spoke.
The silence returns, enveloping you both as the wind hushedly howls, the sounds of birds chirping filling in the empty pages of dialogue as you each continue to eat. Every now and then someone would comment on the food, how good it tasted and thanking God for letting Changbin set up such a delicious day, finishing the last bits of sashimi that was left on the plate.
“Oh jeez, I’m so full,” you mutter, sleepiness slowly creeping its way into your body, “Ah, but we gotta take pictures, I don’t wanna deal with a whiny Changbin.”
Hyunjin snorts, knowing all too well the fit his manager would throw if his date plans were not followed through, especially when he made it clear to the both of you that he wanted proof that you two actually did take those pictures. All he wanted was for each of you to take photos of the other, a mini photoshoot by the lake, while also insisting it would be a great post for either of your instagrams. “Yeah, let's not do that to ourselves.” He lifts himself up from the floor, anxiously offering a hand to help you up, quickly retracting after you stood while ignoring the electric nerves bouncing at the palm of his hands.
“I’ll take your pictures first, okay?” You say, your phone already in hand as you gesture to him to stand in front of the lake, “Luckily, the sun is out, so maybe we will get some nice photos to post,” you add on. Meanwhile, Hyunjin, very stiffly, stood ahead of you, unsure what to do with his body and how to pose. Normally, he is good at this kind of stuff, he has done plenty of photoshoots in the past, but he was terrified at the thought of embarrassing himself in front of you. Before, he had never once had this concern, this worry, he didn’t know why these thoughts kept forming each time he thought of you. It clouded his mind, preventing him from seeing any logic or reason. “Alright, model boy, do your thing, I know you know how to work the camera,” you call out, snapping Hyunjin out of his trance.
If he wasn’t sweating before, he most definitely was now as he body overheated under the sudden pressure he put onto himself as he robotically posed, and you, as always, couldn’t help but notice the lack of elegance he usually carried himself with. “Oh, c’mon, what’s up with you today?”
“I… I don’t know, I’m just nervous… I think?”
“Well, I can see that,” you sigh, placing a hand on your hip, “But, you got no reason to be! It’s just me!”
“I think it being you is the issue,” he murmurs out, not really meaning for the words to slip out his mouth.
You press your lips into a straight line, “Right, I get that. Sooo, how about you pretend it’s not me taking the pictures, but Changbin?”
Hyunjin breathes out a sarcastic laugh, “Oh, yea, that will totally work, you make a very convincing Changbin.”
“Oh, right, let me just-” you roll up the sleeves of your shirt, exposing your biceps as you make a poor attempt to flex them, “How about now, is this working?”
Hyunjin found himself laughing loudly at your very sudden and unexpected antics, his stomach flipping onto itself as a flurry of affection rushed over him. You looked absolutely ridiculous, yet something about it was incredibly endearing despite the goofiness that radiated off of you. However, the sound of the camera shuttering from your phone quickly made him pause his laughter. “Hm, I think you look pretty cute in this,” you smile, turning the screen towards him to see you had captured a photo of him in the midst of his giddiness. He felt his cheek flush at your words, the shyness that had temporarily disappeared made its presence known. “I guess it’s not bad, just… a little different from what I usually post online.”
“Good different, right?” You ask, a smile still gracing features as the sun kisses your features, the wind gently brushing through your hair.
“Definitely a good different.”
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taglist (closed): @kopikokrunch @icouldntcareless22 @kidrauhlschik @hhwangsmoon @lestayzone @cupidcures @sleepyxxhead @pinkpunkdynamite @kaiyaba @palindrome969 @aokiss @annybah @tigerroarsinthelight @bubbly-moon @nattisbored @jin-from-the-block @hyuneyeon
#cinnamostar writes#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#skz fanfic#skz imagines#hyunjin x reader#hwang hyunjin#stray kids hyunjin#hyunjin imagines#hwang hyunjin fanfic#hwang hyunjin x reader#skz scenarios#skz hyunjin#stray kids scenarios
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Standing a step behind you, watching you from afar, is already my biggest happiness.
Sorry for spamming I accidentally put the post in queue two times, this is the proofread and correct one the previous one is not :']
Price + Ghost*Reader
Price
Price doesn’t want to bind you to him. He’s nearly 40, plus the rank difference between you two, he’s a mature superior, no personal feelings should be involved in the workplace.
Not to say, he doesn’t sense even a tiny bit of romantic love from you, every time he tries to hide his affection towards you, he only sees respect for comrades in your eyes.
Even till the day you jump out and take a bullet for him as he gets knocked down accidentally, which ends up with the enemy dying, but you become lifeless in his arms, blood painting his palms and gear, he still believes you just view him as a teammate.
As he steps into your silent quarter and reads the words written in the journal, he slumps onto the bed, speechless as sorrow swallowing him that he needs to bite his lips until he tastes the bitter to stop him from crying.
“Personal feelings won’t be allowed, I can see Captain comply with this rule without exceptions.”
“but it’s okay if it means I can stay beside him.”
“It’s already a bliss that I can watch him from afar.”
He’s seasoned with gravel and pain, which ends up making a choice to free you from caging with him and hide his love, but unknown to him, you’re better at secreting yourself.
Ghost
He’s an expert at hiding and perceiving other’s feelings, not a single human —even his captain— is able to conceal the true thoughts running in their mind from him.
He knows he views you differently , not the family love like he owns for other 141 members, but the need to stay beside you forever, become old together if you both are pardoned from dying on the field at a young age.
The emotion plants a seed in his heart, sprouting as time flows, and when he realizes, the branches are already entangled with his heart.
Yet he chooses to lock those feelings inside the deepest part of him, he stares at you secretly with an amount of distance, always got your six and protects you, but never closer.
He’s afraid if standing too close to you, the sentiment will break through his mask and reveal it to you.
No one left behind, that’s his motto, yet he derogates it the moment he watches you shove the enemy badgering him off his body and over the railing, but he can’t catch your hands as he helplessly witnesses you tumble over inevitably.
You leave nothing, not even your body has been found, since the bomb exploded and perish you and the enemy together.
But when he flips through your journal in your room, he takes off his balaclava, letting it fall to the floor carelessly, as he discovers it does nothing to hide the truth from you.
“Something’s holding Ghost back, but I can wait, until he’s comfortable enough to take a step, even if it means years.”
“I imagine we getting old together, but am I provided with such privilege?”
“Maybe not, hence I’m already extremely satisfied to have a chance to watch him from afar.”
He assumes he’s excels at observing people, but what he’s unaware of is after he stares at you across the room and turns away eventually, your eyes land on him and never dart either.
a/n: thx for reading, have a nice day/night! :D
#cod imagine#cod x reader#cod x you#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon riley imagine#ghost x reader#ghost x you#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost x you#simon 'ghost' riley x reader#john price x reader#john price x you#price x you#price x reader#price imagine#price x y/n#queued post
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AquaKane & OnK 148
Ohhhhh boy. I thought we would have to wait until July to get back to Aqua and Akane, so this chapter blindsided me lol
I know that the most on-the-nose reading of this chapter is that Aka is preparing to pull the classic romcom trope where the love interest gives up on the MC only so the rest of the cast can reassure her that she is the one who makes the MC happy, etc. etc. Considering that this is happening two chapters after Aqua told Kana that he has fun with her, it's like Aka is leading us all to believe that's where it's going. It's all very tropey and in-your-face and perfectly on brand with the way Aka has always written that particular ship.
So instead of talking about the obvious, I'd like to indulge my hopes for good writing and discuss the possibility of Aka actually subverting those tropes by playing this straight, regardless of how likely or unlikely it may be. Because if he does, then all of the stuff I've always loved about Aqua and Akane may just end up meaning something.
This is the possibility I'm rooting for against all odds after all, so I figure that I may as well go down throwing my ship the hurrahs it deserves while I can still do so lol
So buckle up because this is going to be long!
This chapter is a wild ride because it touches upon a lot of different things at once.
First, Aqua supposedly didn't want to be involved with Akane any longer in order to keep her safe.
However, when Akane announced that she would stop his plans — in other words, that she would stay involved in his life — Aqua looked giddy.
Look at him. When Aka allows him to actually emote and be an actual character, Aqua can be so funny!
True to form, in this chapter we see Akane come up to him and Aqua just... welcome her. In fact, he even asks her if she feels awkward around him. Instead of acting like they never dated (which is exactly what Akane has been doing, mind you), he himself brings their former relationship to the forefront.
There's a pause splitting his question in two, meaning that this is something Aqua hesitates to ask. Almost like he is scared of the reply. Or like he may be feeling a little awkward himself.
Which is no surprise, because that is how Aka himself presents their current era. Akane isn't just Akane and she isn't just a friend; she is Aqua's ex girlfriend, a title that never fails to bring attention to the fact that they used to be romantically involved.
From colleagues, to a fake couple, to partners, to a real couple and now they're in their Exes era. I've been waiting for Aka to explore all the tension and complexity that should bring, but he's been kind of busy off-paneling most things Aqua. Alas!
When I commented on Chapter 131, I mentioned that (to me) it feels like after Chapter 116, Akane found something to focus on. She isn't thinking about her relationship with Aqua, the only thing she has in mind is Aqua. Keeping him safe, helping him achieve happiness.
Even here during this chapter, she goes to him to ease his loneliness and remind him that he has people worth living for and that he deserves to be happy, but... nothing she says includes her. It's all about Aqua and the others, the others and Aqua.
I don't think it's a coincidence that Akane walks away from him with her eyes closed. Her mind is consumed with thoughts about wanting Aqua to be happy, and so she doesn't even notice the way he turns to look at her retreating back.
Until Kana shines her proverbial light on her, making Akane open her eyes.
The way the chapter is structured, it's like Kana is there to give Akane the answer — the missing piece to solve the Aqua Happiness Conundrum™ that Akane is so focused on. It's easy to think that the answer is predictably Kana herself, but since I'm here for Aqua and Akane, I'd like to believe the answer can be just as Kana says.
After all, who is prominently featured in what Aqua considers to be his happy days?
Kana's words are abrupt, yes, but the silver lining is that they reflect what Aqua himself has already told us.
Akane is front and center in what Aqua has come to know as happiness.
One may wonder: How TF does Kana know that though?? And it's a fair question that I'll talk about in a little bit, but maybe what matters most is that she knows it at all.
In a way, it feels almost like meta commentary. Like the story has finally reached the point where Aka can afford to go back to Aqua and Akane, and so he is getting ready to reap all the seeds he sowed during the previous arcs fingers crossed.
And this is the very first one of those seeds: Aqua was happy with Akane, but Akane never let herself think that she played an instrumental part in his happiness. She seems to think that it was just being freed from his revenge.
I'd even argue this right here was the true reason of their downfall. It wasn't Aqua finding out about the loophole and Akane not coming clean, it was the reason why she didn't come clean.
Aqua's happiness mattered so much to her that Akane failed to consider that risking her life for him was the last thing Aqua wanted.
So when I read the leaks and Kana's comment, my kneejerk reaction was to think Finally! because this could be setting in motion something I've been waiting for all along.
For Aqua and Akane to revisit their dynamic, their relationship, and come clean about what they mean to each other — wherever that may lead them.
Now, going back to Kana and that earlier question of how does she know? Perhaps she saw something we haven't been privy to (in classic Aka fashion). Or maybe it's as simple as Kana finally realizing that Aqua is deeply unwell, and knowing that the last time she saw him happy was back when he was dating Akane.
Considering the information Kana has and — especially — all the information she lacks, it's not far-fetched for her to come to the conclusion that Aqua's state is partly to blame on his break-up with Akane.
Once again, it would be easy for Aka to say that Kana got it wrong because she doesn't know anything about Aqua's revenge. But wouldn't it be ironic if Kana's lack of insight into that particular side of Aqua is what allows her to see something so simple that the very parties involved are missing it?
Regardless of the road she took to get there, I'd like to think the manga has given us enough reasons to believe Kana is not quite wrong.
After all, Aqua didn't get his black stars when he found out that his father was alive. It wasn't finding out about his father's identity that did it, either.
It was turning his back on Akane and on the naive thoughts of being happy in order to walk down the Revenge Road, on a chapter aptly titled "Going Astray", that gave Aqua his two black stars.
If that was the chapter where Aqua stepped away from the "correct path", so to speak, then it stands to reason to believe that Akane may be front and center in the path Aqua is meant to take.
Coincidentally, this was the last interaction Aqua and Akane were allowed to have before this chapter.
Another thing I find very important in c148 is the way Kana words her realization. Kana isn't telling all of this to Akane as an observer. She's saying it as someone who likes Aqua romantically.
This is in contrast to Akane and Aqua, who are two hot messes when it comes to identifying the nature of their own feelings.
Throughout the entire manga, we've never seen Akane put a label on the way she feels about Aqua. We've seen her realize why she feels the way she does, but we haven't seen her say what she feels, even though Aqua himself has questioned it.
Closest we got was this, and they broke up a chapter later.
Aqua has unexpectedly been more open than Akane in that regard, but... once again, they broke up literally one chapter after Aqua was at his most candid.
And considering everything that happened before and after that, I'm not sure if Akane actually got the message.
But before I get to that, there is an important difference in the way Akane was thinking of Aqua's happiness back then and the way she's thinking about it now.
Chapter 97 was even titled Together. Akane wanted to make Aqua happy, yes, and she also wanted to be together with him always. Just like Aqua wanted them to, according to his own admission: "I don't want to let go of these days... when you're by my side."
But all of that is missing in this most recent chapter. She no longer includes herself as part of the equation at all.
It truly feels like Akane is back to completely underestimating how much she means to Aqua.
Back when Aqua told her this:
Akane reacted like this:
And what is her reaction to Kana's words this chapter?
Every single time, Akane is taken aback by the thought of meaning more to Aqua than she thinks. Every. Single. Time.
This is sad and a little frustrating, but it's far from surprising. After all, this is how Akane has always interpreted their relationship:
As far as Akane is concerned, their relationship was a lie that was turning into truth little by little. She never dared to hope that he loved her back; hell, she even thought that he was attracted to Kana and wondered why he decided to date her instead.
To make matters worse, in Chapter 98, Aqua deliberately set the stage so that Akane's trust in him — the very basis of their relationship — would be broken.
So while Akane realizes that Aqua doesn't want to use her, she may have explained that away as Aqua being his kind self rather than as Aqua harboring any kind of special feelings towards her.
Regardless of how she interpreted his actions though, it seems likely that Akane thinks that she failed him.
She couldn't save him as his girlfriend and Aqua told her he would have nothing to do with her anymore, and so Akane is now trying to save him as something else entirely. Not even as a friend, because she hardly interacts with him at all.
She's trying to save him while staying away just like he wanted her to. While only stepping in when she deems it appropriate and/or necessary.
But is that really and truly what Aqua wants?
Most importantly, is that what Aqua needs?
This chapter suggests that may not be the case, and the rest of the manga agrees. Staying away is not how Akane saved Aqua little by little. This is how she did it:
That's why the way Kana worded her realization is important. It isn't only that Kana — the very girl Akane thought Aqua was attracted to — is bringing romance to the forefront and thus setting the stage for the nature of Akane's (and Aqua's) feelings to be finally cleared up.
It's also that Kana is showing Akane that it's possible to own her feelings while being selfless about his happiness.
After all, the ball right now is in Akane's court. In the state he is now, Aqua would never ever allow himself to chase his own happiness. Even when he thought he was free to do so, he felt that Akane deserved better than to be held back by him.
So all in all, it's like with this chapter alone Aka has laid the groundwork to address all the AquaKane elephants in the room. Just in time for the very season that will be showing AquaKane in all its glory to all the anime-only watchers, at that.
In each of the last arcs, Aqua has reconciled with someone important to him. Kana and Ruby are fully back in his life now, yet he isn't doing any better. Maybe it's finally Akane's turn to try again.
So yes, Kana's change of heart is so abrupt that it may be a red herring leading to a very predictable end.
But since I've made it this far, I may as well keep hoping for the opposite to be true: maybe, just maybe, Aka is planning to tie all of this together and lead it to a satisfying conclusion. I can only hope that is the case, because it's where I feel that the writing is at its best.
Besides, if "giving up on Aqua" and "turning his black star white" are so-called "winning flags", well... Akane did both of those first 😂
#akane kurokawa#aqua hoshino#aquakane#aquaka#my aquakane meta#I was half-tempted to wait until next week because for all I know Aka is going to shoot all of this down in record time#but as I always say: if I've been reading for this long I may as well go down clowning lmao#aka can do whatever he wants but this is the way I'd personally like the manga to go and I'm sticking by it#bring it on aka#I've got both my celebratory and my clown gifs so I'm ready for both outcomes#one thing I forgot to mention is that aqua adresses akane by her first name in this chapter#but that's a post for another time
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Fantasize (Cypher x F!Reader) Part 3
Summary: Part 3 to Fantasize. Read part 1 here and part 2 here!
Pairing: Cypher x F!Reader
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 7,042
Warnings: vaginal fingering, p in v sex, blow jobs
Notes: Sorry for the long wait, guys! Here's 7,000 words of Cypher love to make up for it ;)
You’re exciting, boy come find me
Your eyes told me, “Girl, come ride me”
Fuck that feeling both us fighting
Could he try me? Mm, most likely
~~~
Something was off with Cypher.
The last few weeks, he hadn’t seemed quite like himself, but the past few days, it had become even more apparent. He was less present. Less focused. Quieter. He’d always been quiet —but this was a different kind of quiet. The distracted kind; the kind that told you his mind was somewhere else, far away from here.
On missions, he’d hardly been cracking jokes like usual, and only spoke to you to give orders. The rest of the time, he spoke to you even less, and scarcely stuck around for team activities. No doubt, something was troubling him; he seemed more on edge than you’d ever seen him. A couple times, you’d approached him to ask him a question, and he reacted almost as if you’d spooked him. And both times, he’d been quick to leave after giving you the answers you sought.
You weren’t stupid; you knew he was avoiding you. But… why?
In the back of your mind, you’d worried that he’d seen something that night—the night you’d touched yourself to him. If anyone were to find out about it, Cypher—the man with thousands of eyes—would be the first. You’d known it was a possibility even in the heat of the moment, and yet, you’d believed he didn’t know. Because if he did know, surely he wouldn’t act like this.
Cypher never let anything get to him. Ever. He wasn’t emotional. He never let the information he gathered interfere with his work, or his relationships. That was why he was so good at what he did.
Still, though, it worried you. Had you done something to offend him? Annoy him? Or was there something else on his mind that had nothing to do with you, and you were simply always in the wrong place at the wrong time?
Whatever the case, you couldn’t let this go on any longer. Your feelings for him aside, you didn’t want things to continue this way. He was more than just your teammate; he was your friend, wasn’t he? What could be bothering him so much that he couldn’t talk or joke with you like he always did? You wanted to understand, and help if you could.
At the end of the day, as training sessions wrapped up, you searched for Cypher in the common room. When you didn’t find him there, you went out into the hall, heading for the dorms. If he was in his room, there was a low chance you could get him out to talk, but you had to try.
Then, just as you rounded the corner, you ran into him.
Cypher made a sound of surprise when you smacked into him, and you pulled back abruptly, mortified. “Oh, shit!” you exclaimed. “Sorry, sorry.”
The pale blue eyes of his mask blinked at you, and for a second you feared you’d angered him. But unexpectedly, he chuckled. “It’s alright,” he said. “I was…” He glanced away briefly. “I was actually looking for you.”
Your heart jolted so violently you thought it might burst. What? He had been looking for you? “You—you were?” you asked.
“Yes,” he said, still not quite looking at you directly. “I was, well… hoping we could… talk. If you are not busy.”
You were shaking your head before you could even answer him. “No, I’m not busy,” you assured him. “I was—I was actually looking for you just now.”
His eyes seemed to widen. “I… I see. That is…” He trailed off, then cleared his throat again. “Well, er… we should… go somewhere private. I… cannot show you my room, but I know somewhere else that will—”
“We can go to my room,” you said before he could finish. It had been your original plan to speak with him there, if you had succeeded in catching him at the right time, but your heart was pounding now that the words had left your mouth.
Cypher hesitated. “Are… are you sure? I wouldn’t want to—”
“It’s fine,” you promised. You managed a smile, despite how nervous you’d become. “It’s fine, really. Should we, um—go right now?”
“Yes, if you’re sure it’s alright,” he answered slowly.
“It is,” you said earnestly. “This way.”
You led Cypher down the hall to your room, miraculously making it there without your legs giving out from sheer anxiety. Once you were both inside, you closed the door behind you.
The two of you stood in silence for just a moment, and you wondered if he was just as afraid to make the first move as you. Finally, you asked him, “Do you, um—want some water?”
“I’m fine, thank you,” he replied, moving to lean against one wall.
Looking around the room, you tried not to panic. What had you been thinking? There was practically nowhere for him to sit apart from the chair by your desk and… your bed. Shit, you were so stupid. Things were already awkward between you two, and you’d only made it worse.
Still, you had to ask. “Do you want to sit down?” you asked, gesturing to your desk chair. “It’s no problem, really.”
“Thank you, but I would prefer to stand,” he returned, sounding oddly grave all of a sudden. “But please, feel free to sit. Do not stand on my account.”
You couldn’t help but be worried by his change in tone. “Well, what exactly are we talking about?” you asked, laughing in spite of—or maybe because of—your apprehension. “Is it something I should sit down for?”
He didn’t laugh, and that made you worry even more. Instinctively, you moved towards the bed, taking a seat at the edge of it, and looked over at him. He was still leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, eyes on the floor. What was going on? Why couldn’t he look at you?
“Cypher?” you said softly. “What is it?”
He lifted his head ever so slightly, then let out a sigh. “I… must be honest with you about something,” he murmured.
You were silent, heart beating so hard you could feel it in your ears.
When he spoke again, you could hear the effort it was taking him to go on. “You know that I see everything,” he continued. “That I have… cameras everywhere. Well…” He swallowed. “I have cameras… in here, as well.”
You froze, and immediately, devastatingly, you knew where this was going.
“I can’t tell you where they are, or why they are here, but—” Cypher turned his head, the brim of his hat covering much of his face. “One night, a few weeks ago, I—”
“You saw me,” you finished for him.
He looked up at you, and even with his mask on, you could tell he was stunned. After a short pause, he nodded. “I… saw you,” he echoed. “And I… heard you.”
You looked down at your hands, feeling as though the room was spinning around you. He knew. He’d known for weeks. Of course he had.
He’d heard you say his name—his codename and his real name. Your throat tightened with realization.
He’d heard you say you loved him.
The words were tumbling out of you before you could stop them. “I’m so sorry.”
A heartbeat passed, then Cypher spoke, his voice startlingly soft. “Why are you sorry?” he asked, bewildered.
You shook your head, unable to look at him. “I just—I’m sorry,” you mumbled. “I shouldn’t have—fuck, I’m just—I don’t know. I’m just sorry.”
You were sorry, but for what, you didn’t know. Sorry for yourself? Sorry you hadn’t kept your secret better? Sorry you hadn’t told him?
Sorry you were in love with him at all?
Cypher was quiet for a long moment. You willed yourself not to cry, thinking desperately of what you could possibly say to rectify this situation, but then he said, “There’s nothing to be sorry about.”
You raised your head at that. Tentatively, you found the strength to look at him again. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that…” He seemed to be searching for the right words. “Well, I mean that… there is no need to apologize. You’ve done… nothing wrong.”
You studied him, wishing more than ever that you could read his expression, understand how he was feeling. What was he trying to say? “You’re not… upset?” you asked, disbelieving.
“No.” He shifted against the wall, eyes still on the floor. “No, I… I’m not upset.”
You believed he was telling the truth, but you could see the discomfort in his stance. He might not be upset with you, but there was still something he wasn’t articulating.
Your throat was so dry; you wished you’d gotten yourself some water before sitting down. “Then… why have you been avoiding me?”
Cypher sighed. “I am… sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to—what I mean to say is… avoiding you was… not my intention.”
Something told you he was lying.
“Cypher,” you said, “I—I mean it when I say I’m sorry. I didn’t want to complicate things like this, I just—” It pained you to say it, but you did anyway. You’d do anything to make this right. “It’s nothing, okay? It’s just a little crush. It’ll—it’ll go away.”
Cypher turned his head, meeting your eyes with those ice-cold blue orbs. “You… said my name,” he murmured. “That night.”
You faltered, unable to look away. “I-I—yeah, I did,” you stuttered. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t—”
“Why did you?” he asked. There was no anger, no accusation behind the question. Only a desire to understand.
You tore your eyes away, occupying yourself with your hands in your lap. “I-I—I just—” You knew your voice was quivering, but you could do little to steady it. “In the moment, I guess I—I don’t know. I wanted to know the real you.”
Cypher did not answer right away. You wished you knew what he was thinking. “You said you… loved me,” he said, in that same soft tone.
Your heart dropped into your stomach. “I know,” you whispered, your face burning. “I didn’t know what I was saying. I didn’t—I didn’t mean it. I promise.”
“You… didn’t?”
The softness in his voice took you completely aback. You looked up at him, blinking away the tears that were seconds from gathering. “What?” was all you could say.
“You didn’t mean it?” he asked. “When you… said you loved me.”
You didn’t know what to say. Why was he asking you this? You’d already told him it meant nothing. Unless… he didn’t believe you.
But… why would that matter to him? What did he care whether you loved him or not? Was this just more information he intended to keep for himself, to store away for later?
You shut your eyes, forcing back the tears once more. You could easily lie. You could say it had been nothing. You could say you didn’t know how you really felt, and that would be true, at least partially. You still didn’t understand all this, but you had to give him an answer. There was no way out of this.
And you weren’t a very good liar.
Looking down, you nodded. “I did mean it,” you said. “I meant it in the moment, and… I mean it now.”
Cypher was silent.
“It’s true I have feelings for you,” you went on, needing to get everything out before he said anything back. “I do, but… I care about this job. I care about the agency. And I respect you too much to let this change things.” You wrung your hands together. “I won’t let this get in the way. I’ll—I’ll keep working hard, and if you don’t want to work with me anymore, I—I understand. I just want to do my job. I don’t… I don’t want things to be different. I just want things to go back to normal. Please. ”
You felt the heat of his gaze on you as you waited for him to respond. He said he wasn’t angry, he said you’d done nothing wrong, but why was he so fucking quiet? What was going on in his head? You wished he would just tell you.
Tell me what I have to do, and I’ll do it.
You heard the sound of footsteps, and suddenly, his shadow entered your field of vision. You looked up ever so slightly, and saw that Cypher had moved from his spot nearby; he was standing in front of you now, just a few feet away.
Slowly, he took off his hat, holding it to his chest. “Sweetheart,” he said softly. “I have feelings for you, too.”
It was as if every one of your nerves had been shocked back to life. You stared at him. “You—you do?” you uttered.
“Yes.” He gripped his hat a little tighter. “That night, I… I didn’t mean to see you. I watch everyone, as you know, but… I don’t—I don’t watch them like that. I’m not that kind of man.”
You believed him.
“I saw you, and I heard you say my name, and I…” Every word seemed difficult for him to get out, as though he were frightened to be so vulnerable with you. “I couldn’t… stop thinking about you. For weeks I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was… interfering with my work. I couldn’t focus.”
That much had been obvious. And, if you were being honest, you’d been off your game, too.
“I didn’t understand it at first,” Cypher continued. “I am… never like this. This is not familiar to me. Or at least it… hasn’t been for a long time.” He swallowed. “I realized that… you’ve affected me. I have not been the same since that night. I have feelings for you, and… I thought it best to tell you.”
You were lost for words, mind reeling with the weight of his confession. Cypher had feelings for you. Real feelings. You’d… affected him, without even meaning to. Your heart, confused though it was, had begun to beat madly.
All this time, he’d felt the same way.
You wanted to stand, to meet him at his level, but you were in such a state of shock, you feared you would pass out if you did. “What does this mean?” you asked him, your voice small.
Cypher fidgeted with the brim of his hat. “I… don’t know,” he confessed. “Not yet. All I knew was that I needed to tell you… for both our sakes. But…” He took the smallest step closer to you. “You know that… because of this, and because we are both agents here, nothing will be the same.”
You nodded, knowing it to be true.
“You know that I… can never tell you everything,” he said ruefully. “I can’t tell you about my past. And I can never let you see my face, as much as I may want you to.”
Your heart twisted. “I know.”
Cypher took another step, stopping right at your feet. The tips of his shoes were nearly brushing yours. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. When he looked down at you, you could almost see the sorrow in his eyes under the mask. “I’m sorry for all of this. For not telling you until now.” He scratched the back of his head with one hand. “I… haven’t done this in so long. I’ve almost forgotten what to do.” He laughed, though there was sadness in the sound. “I would… understand if this is too difficult.”
You peered up at him, still not understanding. “Do you… want to be with me?”
“I…” He had started to fray the edges of his hat. “I, well… I wish to be something with you,” he answered. “I… am not sure what exactly, yet. This is still new to me, and… I don’t understand all of it.” He shuffled his feet. “But… I can never be fully vulnerable with you. I may never be all you need me to be… because of who I am. What I’ve become.” A sigh escaped him. “I am truly sorry if this hurts you.”
Your arms reached out, seemingly moving of their own accord. Before you could think twice about it, you took the sides of his face in your hands. Though your touch no doubt surprised him, he did not pull away. “Cypher,” you whispered. “I… I don’t care.”
He blinked. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t care,” you repeated. “I don’t… I don’t need to see your face. I would never make you show it to me.” You realized just how much you meant that. “I don’t need to know your past. I know something hurt you, something that forced you to hide yourself like this, and… that’s all I need to know.” You could feel a smile forming on your lips, slowly but surely. “I… mean that. I really do.”
He looked at you, his bewilderment evident even with his mask. “You… are really okay? With all of this?” he asked, full of disbelief.
You gave him a feverish nod. “Of course I am,” you said. “I fell for you as you are, didn’t I?” You laughed lightly.
“I…” His mask was warm. Was he blushing under there? “I’m… older, you know,” he mumbled. “I’m… out of practice. W-With—a lot of things. I haven’t been… well…”
You giggled. “That’s okay,” you reassured him. “We can—we can take things slow, okay? We’re still figuring this out.”
Cypher stared at you a moment longer, speechless as you held his face. When he finally spoke, his voice was a low rasp. “You are… lovely,” he said. “You know that?”
You glanced away, your cheeks hot. “Thank you,” you murmured. “You know, I… I can’t believe you’re really here right now. Are we sure I’m not dreaming?” You chuckled nervously.
Cypher leaned into your touch, dropping lower so that he was eye-to-eye with you. “You’re not,” he said. “And I will prove it to you.”
Before you knew what was happening, he ducked gently out of your grasp, letting his hat drop to the floor. With one hand, he reached for his mask, then took it off.
Your breath caught in your throat. What was going on? Had he changed his mind? Had he decided to show you his face after all?
But under his mask, his face remained hidden. There was another black mask that covered his skull and features, skin-tight like spandex, with the blue orbs over his eyes attached. Cypher grasped the bottom of it, lifting it up just above his nose, and your heart thrummed fiercely in your ribcage. It wasn’t all of it, but it was his face; olive-skinned, angular, with a trimmed, dark beard and a scar on his lip.
His lip. His lips. His lips.
Cypher brought his gloved hand to your face, stroking your jaw. “May I kiss you?” he asked.
You didn’t even answer. You just kissed him.
Your first thought when your lips met his was that he was warm. There was so much warmth coming from him, gentle and encompassing like the sun, and though his beard was a bit rough, his lips were so soft. You melted into the kiss, throwing your arms around his neck. You needed more of him.
This wasn’t a fantasy. This was better than anything you could’ve conjured up.
Cypher matched your eagerness in kind, tangling his fingers in your hair as he kissed you. You felt his tongue at the seam of your lips, catching you by surprise, and you welcomed it inside your mouth, the softest of moans escaping you when it entered.
He pulled back for just a second, hand still in your hair. “Are you alright? Is—Is this okay?”
“Yes,” you breathed before kissing him again.
You tugged at him, pulling him forward as the kiss deepened. You felt his chest on yours, his weight pressing down on you, and then you were falling back onto the bed, Cypher atop you as your mouths remained interlocked. Fiery warmth spread through you, rushing from your face down to your core. You held him closer, moaning when he sucked on your lower lip.
This wasn’t a dream; you were sure of it by now. But what was going to happen? How far did he want to take this?
“Cy—Cypher,” you managed to say against his lips. “Do you—do you want to—”
Cypher stiffened slightly, as if stirring from a trance. “I…” His breath was hot in your mouth. “I— yes. I want to, but—”
“But?” you said.
“I can’t be… naked,” he said breathlessly. “Not completely. I can’t—my body—”
“It’s okay,” you cut in. “You don’t have to. It’s okay.” You kissed the side of his mouth. “Can you—take off some things?”
“Yes,” he answered. He jolted suddenly, like he’d just remembered something. “Wait, wait—do you—do you have condoms?”
You blushed. “Yeah, I-I should have some—somewhere. They should still be good.”
“Okay.” Cypher shook his head, reining himself back in. “I—I’m sorry. If I’d known, I would have prepared for—”
You shut him up with another searing kiss.
No more talking. Just show me what you can do.
Cypher grunted into the kiss, carding his fingers through your hair. Slowly, steadily, he began to move against you. “ Ghzâla, ” he whispered.
The word sent a shiver down your spine. “What does—that mean?” you asked between kisses.
“Sweet,” he rasped. “You taste sweet.”
You shuddered. You felt his thigh rub between your legs, and your hips thrust up instinctively. You dug your nails into the back of his coat. “Please.”
Cypher broke away from your lips, kissing your cheek, then your jaw, then your neck. “What do you want?” he asked. “Do you want me to touch you?”
You didn’t hesitate to answer him. “Yes.”
He kissed the spot where your neck met your shoulder. “Where?”
The two of you had only just started, and you were already falling apart. “Everywhere,” you whimpered.
His lips were at your collarbone. “Everywhere?”
Holy shit, was he teasing you? This was too much. “Yes, everywhere,” you responded, trying not to sound as desperate as you felt. “Please, just—just touch me.” You’d dreamed about this for so long; there was no more holding back.
Impatient, you reached for your shirt, yanking it out from where it had been tucked into your pants. Noticing at once, Cypher acted accordingly, taking the hem from you and hoisting it up. You lifted your arms, and he pulled it off swiftly, exposing your bra and bare upper body. He leaned back, sitting up on his knees as he looked you over hungrily. “Beautiful,” he said, breathless. “So beautiful.”
You moved to unzip your pants, but he was faster this time, pulling them down with palpable desperation. Once he’d gotten them off, leaving you in only your undergarments, he put his hand to your panties. His touch was featherlight, but the second you felt it, it was like one of Neon’s electric shocks. You bit your lip to keep from moaning.
“Is this okay?” he murmured, adding just a little more pressure.
You let out the tiniest of gasps. You were soaked already, and you were sure he could feel it. He was so close to where you needed him. “Yes. Please.”
He stroked the outside with two fingers, feeling the shape of you through the fabric. His lips were parted, as if he were awestruck by you. “So wet,” he uttered, half to himself.
Unable to help yourself, you bucked against his hand. “Cypher,” you begged. “ Please. ”
He looked at you once, and that was enough to get him to focus. He made quick work of his coat and belts, then tore the gloves off his hands, setting them aside before flexing his freed fingers. They were the same color as his face, and just as scarred, with nails trimmed impeccably.
Thank goodness.
Cypher took hold of your panties, tugging them gently down your hips. Without speaking, he brought two fingers to your entrance, gathering your slick to coat the tips. Then, in one gentle motion, he plunged one inside of you.
You threw your head back, moaning as he entered. Cypher parted your walls with painstaking care, and you did your best to relax for him, knowing your pussy was strangling his finger with everything it had. It’d been months since you’d last had sex, and though you pleasured yourself often, the feeling of someone else’s finger inside you still came as a shock. You could feel every inch of it; the ridges, the callouses, the knuckle pressing up against the outside of you.
It was so good.
“Cypher,” you whined, feeling cockdrunk even at the small penetration. “Please.”
He was watching you intently, maintaining a steady pace with his finger. “Does it hurt?” he asked.
“No.” He curled it inside you, and you gasped. “No, don’t stop, please.”
“I won’t,” he promised. He sat back on the edge of the bed, studying you like a man entranced. He did not slow down.
He pumped deeper, hitting your g-spot, and you moaned louder, urging him to keep going. You were gone already, lost in the sensation. The dorms could be on fire outside this room, and still you wouldn’t care. Cypher was alone with you, touching you, and it was everything you wanted and more.
“N-Need you,” you blurted out. “I need you. Please.”
Cypher tilted his head, looking at you curiously. “What do you need, dear?”
The sweetness in his voice was killing you. “You,” you pleaded. “ You. I—” You were cut off by your own moan when his thumb brushed your clit. “Please. Please, can we—”
“You want to?” He leaned over you. “Already?”
“ Yes. ” You hardly recognized your own voice, so heavy with need.
“Yes, we can, but—are you ready?” he asked, concerned.
“Yes, yes, please,” you babbled. “Please, I just—I need you.” Under normal circumstances, you would be more embarrassed with yourself, but right now, you were too flustered, too hot with desire to care.
“Okay.” Cypher nodded, understanding, and carefully withdrew his finger with a wet pop. You shivered as it left you, watching him get up from the bed and look around. “You—said there were condoms somewhere, yes?”
“Y-Yeah.” You forced yourself to focus, if only for a few seconds. “Check—check the drawer. Right there.”
You pointed to your night table, and he went to it, opening a drawer to search inside. As he rummaged, you sat up, removing your bra and panties faster than you’d ever done in the past. After a minute, Cypher turned, a wrapped condom in hand. When he saw you, his jaw dropped.
Actually dropped. For once, you could see his mouth, and know what was on his mind.
“Sweetheart,” he said, mystified, “you didn’t have to—I would have understood if—”
“Just shut up and get over here,” you ordered, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him forward.
Cypher collapsed onto the bed, head hitting the pillows as you climbed on top of him, straddling his lap. He looked up at you, mouth still open with awe. “You’re beautiful,” he marveled.
“So are you,” you replied before bending down to kiss him.
Cypher opened up for you eagerly, his tongue parting your lips with ease. “You—you don’t know that,” he breathed. “You’ve never seen my face. I could be ugly under here.”
You ground your body against him, nipping at his lower lip. “I know you’re not.”
He made a low sound in his throat, grabbing hold of your thighs. He kissed you hard, squeezing your soft flesh. “Are you sure you want this?” he asked when he finally broke free.
“ Yes, ” you answered firmly. You were naked on top of him, spreading slick all over his pants, and kissing him like you needed him to breathe. What more did you have to do to convince him?
You looked at him beneath you, face still half-covered by his mask. You could tell he wanted you; you could feel it in his lap. But as much as you craved him, you needed to be sure. “Do you want this?” you whispered.
Cypher gripped your thighs. “I-I do,” he said. “I do. I’ve wanted this for weeks. It’s just… been a long time.”
You understood. You wanted this so badly, wanted to jump right in, but you would go at his pace. “We can take this slow,” you promised. “I won’t take anything off of you. Not unless you want me to.”
He smiled, and your heart swelled. “Thank you, sokar. ”
You gave him a curious look. “What does that one mean?”
He grinned. “I will tell you later.” He reached for the condom, unwrapping it from its package, then met your eyes. “Will you help me? Please?”
“Oh. Y-Yeah. Yeah.” You shifted in his lap, moving aside so you could undo his belt. Once it was gone, you unzipped his pants to reveal his boxers underneath, feeling around gently until you found an unmistakable hard shape. Cypher made a soft noise when you touched it, and you looked up, fearing you’d done something wrong. But then he gave you a nod, encouraging you, and you got back to work.
Deftly, you freed his cock, bringing it out into the open, and abruptly sucked in a breath at the sight of it.
You’d been right. He was big.
It was long and thick, that same lovely tone as the rest of him, with dark hair trimmed short. “What did I tell you?” you said, dumbstruck. “You are beautiful.”
Cypher laughed. “You’re too sweet,” he remarked. “Pretty girl.”
Those words, spoken so affectionately, got you riled up in a way you’d never felt before. Remembering your task, you took the condom and brought it to the head of his cock, unrolling it all down the shaft. Cypher very nearly whimpered as you did so, and that made you all the more determined to get it done.
Once you’d covered him completely, you spread your legs, positioning yourself over his cock. “Do you want to start like this?” you asked him. “Or do you want to be on top?”
Cypher’s hands found their way back to your thighs, gripping them. “Like this,” he murmured. “Just go slow, dear. Please.”
Your heart fluttered, your whole body ablaze. This was really happening. You were about to have sex with him, and he was letting you take control.
You brought yourself lower, gasping when the head of his cock met your entrance. Taking a deep breath, you went even lower, then all at once, you were easing yourself onto him.
You moved slowly, walls splitting as you took him inside of you. It was a light sting at first, only the head of him penetrating you, then the further you went, the more you could feel yourself being opened, spread apart by his massive length. You were helpless not to moan as you went, the pain quickly replaced by mind-numbing, mouth-watering pleasure the deeper you took him. There was some resistance on the way, but at last, he bottomed out, and when you sat yourself fully in his lap, he moaned in tandem with you.
“Shit,” you gasped. “You’re so big.”
Cypher breathed out shakily, chest heaving as he adjusted to a sensation he likely hadn’t felt in years. His hands still grasped your thighs, his grip tightening after a heartbeat. “So tight,” he groaned. “Does it—does it hurt?”
“N-No,” you said, clenching around him without meaning to.
He winced, though not in pain. To your surprise, he rolled his hips up into you. “Please,” he uttered. “Please.”
His plea took your breath away. Knowing at once what he wanted, you began to move, sliding yourself up and down his length. You were so wet, it was effortless, even without the condom’s lubrication. You placed your hands on his chest, supporting yourself as you took him in and out, in and out. This couldn’t be real. Nothing this good could ever be real. “Cypher,” you moaned.
“That’s good,” he choked out. He thrust up into you, almost shyly, then he did it again, and again. Each time, you let out a whine, and that seemed to spur him on. “Good girl. Yes. ”
You moved faster, needing more of his praise, more of him. You were fucking him. He was fucking you. “S-So good,” was all you could get out.
He chuckled in between moans. “You’re so good, sokar, ” he cooed. “So—so pretty.”
There was that nickname again. You tightened around him, forcing a strangled noise from him. “Please,” you whimpered.
He tilted his head up. “What is it, dear?”
“Please, I—” You couldn’t put it to words. You couldn’t think right now—how could you? How could anyone? There was only pure, overpowering need. Driven by instinct alone, you leaned down and took his face in your hands, kissing him hard.
If your first kiss with him was a flame, this was an inferno. It was as though all your desire for him, all that lust and desperation that had built inside you for months had finally risen to the surface, taking control of you now. You claimed his mouth greedily, feverishly, and he kissed you with the same ferocity, digging bruises into your thighs. You nipped at him, clutching the sides of his face as you tasted him, his tongue colliding with yours. You wanted to devour him. You wanted to make him yours.
Cypher thrust into you harder and faster, holding your hips in place, making you mewl into the kiss. “ Please, ” you whined.
“You like that?” he panted. “Is this—what you imagined that night? When you touched yourself?”
You moaned, faltering with every thrust. “Yes,” you said feebly. You could barely remember your fantasy that night; it paled in comparison to this. “Yes, yes, I wanted this…”
You could almost see his eyes rolling back. “Sweet girl,” he groaned. “Why me?”
You hadn’t expected that question. “What? What do you— mm —mean?”
“Why me,” he repeated, his voice low and gravelly. “Why not Phoenix, or Sova, or— anyone in Valorant? Why me, sweetheart?”
For a moment, you didn’t know how to answer. The answer itself was so simple, but… why was he asking this? Why now? “Because—because you’re you,” you responded, fighting to speak clearly. “Because you’re—you’re Cypher. You’re smart and—and kind and—” You cut yourself off with a shrill moan when he hit you just right. “You’re—you’re just—”
For several seconds, Cypher said nothing, processing your words. Then, all of a sudden, he grabbed your face, forcing you to look straight at him. “Do you love me?” he asked, panting.
With your bodies so close like this, his hands on your face and his heart beating with yours, there was only one answer. “Yes,” you moaned out. “I-I do.”
He did not look away from you, not letting up on the rough pace he had set. “Say it,” he whispered. It wasn’t an order. It was a plea.
Cypher released you, pushing you back gently. You sat up straight in his lap, bouncing on his cock as he continued to thrust. You obeyed without question. “I love you.”
“Please,” he said.
“I love you,” you chanted. “I love you, I love you. ” You meant it, with every fiber of your being.
“Say my name,” he said, nearly begging. “ My name.”
“Amir,” you breathed. “I love you, Amir.”
Cypher made a sound so new, so vulnerable that you could hardly believe it came from him at all. It was soft, halfway between a moan and a whine. “ Sokar, ” he uttered.
You gripped the edges of his shirt. “Amir.”
He said your name. Your real name, not your codename.
Reaching down, you searched for your clit, circling it with two of your fingers. “Amir.”
He said your name again and again, like a prayer.
You rubbed your clit harder, the coil inside you so close to snapping. “I love you,” you gasped. “I’ve loved you for months. I love—I love everything about you. Amir. ”
“ Ghzâla, ” he said weakly. He sounded so frail, like a man about to break.
“I love it all,” you went on. You were babbling now, but you didn’t care. “I love—I love the way you look, the way you talk. I-I—I love your laugh, your—”
“Sweetheart,” he interrupted. “Stop, please—I’m close.”
“Then cum for me,” you said without hesitation. Your body jerked at the pleasure from your clit, and you clenched around him with a gasp. “Cum for me, please. ”
Cypher breathed out harshly. “Stop,” he pleaded. “No more, please. I’m going to cum.”
You were so close, too, you could feel it. “Cum inside me,” you begged.
He bit his lip, and for a moment, he seemed to be considering it. He groaned, gritting his teeth, then shook his head wildly. “No—no, I can’t.”
You wanted to argue, to moan and beg until he popped like a cork inside you. You wanted it so badly. You wanted to be his, in a way no one was. Not Nora, or anybody else.
But you couldn’t. Not like this.
Without saying a word, you obeyed him, moving off of his lap just as he cried out, gasping for air as he came. His cock pulsed inside the condom, filling it to the brim with thick seed. You laid on your side, watching him as he grabbed the base of his cock and pumped it, groaning while he rode the wave of his orgasm—the likes of which he probably hadn’t experienced in years.
It took him a moment to come down from his high. When his body relaxed, no longer convulsing, Cypher sat up slowly and exhaled. He said nothing yet, still catching his breath, but when he turned and looked at you, he suddenly sprang into action.
He pinned you down before you had time to react, holding your arms above your head with one hand. You stared up at him, startled, only to moan sharply when you felt his fingers at your clit, rubbing it ardently. You tried to say something, to ask what he was doing, but you couldn’t form a single word.
Cypher grinned down at you. “Your turn, lovely girl,” he purred. “Let yourself go.”
Holy shit, it was so good. “A-Amir,” you mewled. “Fuck, please —”
“Almost there, yes,” he coaxed, breathy with effort. “You did so well. Cum for me now.”
You were drowning. You were drowning in pleasure and it was all him, him, him. “P-Please—”
“Cum now,” he cooed into your ear. “Let me hear you.”
That command, spoken so softly, was all you needed. You wailed as you reached your peak, loud enough that someone outside could’ve heard you. Your pussy, still gushing from earlier, fluttered and clenched around nothing as you came, and Cypher’s fingers on your clit slowed to a soothing rhythm. “Good girl,” he murmured. “So good. I knew you could do it.”
You panted, collecting yourself as your heart calmed and your body went still on the bed. You pussy throbbed, and the sheets beneath you were soaked, but words could not describe how elated you were.
Cypher wanted you just as much as you wanted him. He’d just fucked you stupid, and made you cum.
The man himself looked down at you now, smiling. “Feeling okay?” he asked, moving a strand of hair from your forehead.
You gave him an “Are you serious?” look. “Better than okay,” you answered, smiling back. “I think I could walk on air right now, honestly.”
He chuckled. “So sweet,” he said. “That’s why I call you sokar. ”
“Are you going to tell me what that means already?” you asked humorously.
He smiled. “Sugar.”
Your heart skipped a beat.
Cypher leaned down, pressing a kiss to your cheek before sitting up and stretching. “I should get cleaned up,” he said, eyeing the stuffed condom. “It was… a lot. It has… been a while, as you know.”
You looked at the condom too—Jesus, it was a lot. Still woozy from your climax, your body warm all over, you had an idea all of a sudden. “Wait,” you said. “Let—let me.”
He turned, puzzled. “What do you mean?”
You scooted closer to him, deciding to show rather than tell. Sliding off of the bed, you settled on your knees at his feet, taking your condom in your hands and gingerly rolling it up his cock. Cypher’s breath hitched when you pulled it off of him, but just before anything could drip from his shaft, you latched your mouth around his cock.
The moan that came out of him was better than you could’ve hoped. Clutching the base of his cock, you sucked up the remaining cum, licking and cleaning and swallowing. Cypher groaned as you worked, one hand coming down to grip your hair, and you did not stop until all of it was gone.
When you’d finished, you got to your feet, then disposed of the condom. Cypher was still sitting on the edge of the bed, hands on his thighs, flushed and panting like he’d just fucked you all over again. “You,” he said, his voice low. “I was—I was not expecting that.”
You giggled. Something about seeing him like this—so affected by you—was utterly amazing. You sat beside him on the bed, the mattress dipping under the weight of you both. “Sorry for the surprise,” you said, only half-apologetically.
“N-No, I—” He cleared his throat. “No, that was, I—” He laughed, avoiding your eyes. “Please do that again sometime.”
You laughed too.
You knew it was partly the hormones, but you felt so different now. Lighter. Freer. So much had just happened, in such a short span of time. Everything had changed between you and Cypher—but you welcomed it with open arms.
You liked him, and he liked you. Neither of you had to hide it anymore.
You leaned your head on his shoulder. “Will you stay?” you asked. “Just a little bit longer?”
Cypher wrapped one arm around your waist, gently pulling you closer to him. He was quiet for just a moment, then finally, he answered, “Yes. For a little while.”
Hope you guys enjoyed!
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❤️🩹Lifeline | MYG❤️🩹
Synopsis: It’s long been controversial for idols to date, but idols dating each other can be really beautiful or a complete nightmare. When Yoongi's relationship with another idol is discovered, he decides maybe it’s time to break the taboo and show people it’s ok for idols to date. Instead, they find themselves caught in the midst of one media frenzy after another and struggle to keep their relationship as strong as it had been the past 2 years. Yoongi finds a self destructive way to cope, and it causes even more problems than it solves. As they fight for their relationship and their careers, they discover that sometimes, the only way to truly be free is to let go.
Pairing: idol!Yoongi x idol!OC
Warnings: nsfw, alcoholism, cheating, depression, anxiety, Yoongi goes through a bisexy ho phase, Yoongi is also in his alcoholic phase, post-military BTS
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Ch. 19: Your Letter
Yoongi needed a longer session with Minho the next day. He barely slept so all of his feelings of hurt and sadness continued to grow throughout the night. By morning he was a puffy red eyed mess wishing for something to drink again.
The session was rough and involved many tears and realizations. Yoongi learned a lot of things about himself that he didn’t quite realize before. That unleashed more emotions because now he feels like he doesn’t even know himself anymore. It was the roughest session he’s had so far.
The session ended with homework for Yoongi, which is typical. Minho always gives Yoongi homework after each session. This time his homework is to read a few things about codependency that Minho sent him. The more Yoongi read, the more he got upset. He fit the description, but he wants so bad to not. It just adds another thing to his list of issues.
Regardless of his denial, he knows one thing. He needs to apologize to Hyeri. He may not be ready to accept that he’s codependent, but he’s willing to admit that he shouldn’t have acted the way he did with her. He should have believed her when she said she was fine and he definitely shouldn’t have made her feel like a helpless baby. It wasn’t his intention at all and he’s been feeling like shit ever since he came to the realization that he was in the wrong. On top of that, Hyeri’s birthday is in just three days and the last thing he wants is for her to hate him on her birthday.
He starts to type out a message but then stops midway through. He can’t text her an apology. As ashamed as he is to speak to her again, he knows a text message would be too impersonal and seem lazy. So he calls her.
The phone rings once and he hangs up.
He curses himself then calls again. This time taking a deep breath and for whatever reason hoping she doesn’t answer because he’s starting to realize he’s much too nervous to talk to her.
“Hey,” Hyeri’s voice softly rings through the phone.
“Hey,” he says with a shaky voice. “How did you sleep?” He asks suddenly going blank on what to say. “No, I mean, have you had breakfast? It’s ok if you haven’t. I mean I think you should have something for breakfast, but you don’t have to.”
“Is there a reason why you called?” She asks hoarsely. She hasn’t yet gotten out of bed and aside from that she had been crying all night, so she’s not actually in the mood to talk. Still she couldn’t stop herself from answering when his name popped up on her phone.
“No. I mean yeah, I just…” he pauses to take a deep breath and pull himself together. “I wanted to apologize for last night. I wasn’t trying to make you feel like a baby or anything. I was being…I don’t know…”
“Overbearing and suffocating,” she says finishing his sentence.
“Right,” he sighs. “I’m sorry, Hyeri. Truth is, I talked to Minho today and now I feel all fucked up and confused because he told me things about myself I never realized and I’m starting to wonder if I ever even knew myself in the first place.”
“Told you things like what?”
“That I’m…I just…he said a lot and I’m working through it all. I just wanted to apologize because I love you and I don’t want you to hate me for being a helicopter parent.”
“I don’t hate you, Yoongi. I never could. I just want you to know how frustrating it is for me. It’s like you’re focused too much on taking care of my every want and need, but you don’t focus enough on yourself. You ignore everything going on with you and devote your every moment to catering to me when I don’t need it and at times I don’t want it. I’m just tired. You’ve put me through a lot, Yoongi.”
“I’m sorry,” he says through the knot in his throat. “You’re right and I guess I’m finally starting to see that. I can’t get anything right when it comes to you.” He pauses realizing he’s saying just the thing Minho was telling him about earlier. “I’m sorry. I’m trying, I mean it,” he pleads. “It’s hard. So hard. I’m working on being better. I swear when I leave here I’ll be a much better person. I’ll be clean, I won’t lie or cheat or get back into drinking all of the time.”
“I know,” she says. “I know you’re trying to work on it, but you still have a long way to go. I’m trying my best to be patient but you have to know last night it was just too much on top of a day that was already stressful.”
“I know and I’m so sorry for that. I shouldn’t have acted the way I did. I’m really trying, Hyeri. I want to be so much better for you.”
“I know,” she sighs hating what she’s about to say. “I think maybe it was a bad idea for us to start talking on the phone. It was probably a bad idea for us to even text. I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but I think maybe we shouldn’t talk for a bit. At least until you’re able to find some mental stability.” She instantly regrets her words, but she can’t take them back. She knows he shouldn’t have been able to talk to her from the start because it could hinder his recovery, and it seems like it has.
“You don’t want to talk to me?” He asks feeling his heart drop to the floor.
“That’s not what I’m saying,” she insists. “I’m a distraction to you. Even if you don’t want to admit it, it’s true. You aren’t focused on yourself because you’re focused on me. If you don’t get better what would happen to us?” She chokes back tears at the thought of being without him.
Yoongi is silent knowing that she has a point, but not wanting to admit it. It feels like she’s trying to break up with him and he’s not sure he can take that.
“Babe,” she says in a reassuring tone. “I’m not going anywhere. I can take care of me, so you take care of you.”
“So…can we still text?” He asks feeling like his single source of mental and emotional relief outside of alcohol is leaving him.
“You can text me all you want. I just can’t guarantee that I’ll respond. Just…so you can remain focused. But I’ll always read your messages. I promise.”
“You wouldn’t miss me?” He asks searching for reassurance.
“I always miss you when you’re not here. That’s not what I’m saying. It’s just that…maybe I have an audition for that very big role that JJS tried to stop me from going for and I need to concentrate on that right now. Just like you need to concentrate on your health.”
“You have an audition? That’s great!” He says suddenly proud and almost as if she didn’t just suggest they not talk for a while.
“Yeah,” she responds softly. “I need to focus on that and focus on my own healing, you know? I haven’t really been able to since you’ve been home and it’s starting to catch up to me. So please use this time to take care of yourself.”
“Right,” he sighs. “Take care of yourself too. I mean…you already do so I guess I don’t need to tell you that…”
“It’s ok. I love you, Yoongi.”
“I love you too, Na Hyeri. I…I hate this, but I know you’re right. I love you so much, please wait for me I promise I’ll make it all up to you.”
“I’ll be here, babe,” she says. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Yeah,” he says softly. The call ends and he simply lays in place in the bed.
His heart hurts. It hurts a lot. But he knows she hurts too, and she deserves time to heal from everything he’s put her through.
That now leaves him alone with nothing but his thoughts. That’s a hard thing for him to deal with so he looks for a distraction. He goes to his keyboard and begins playing a few notes. Then a few chords. Suddenly he’s playing a melody off the top of his head, though it sounds like something he’s already long since written and perfected. It’s not, though. It’s just him freestyling fueled by the thoughts swirling around in his head.
After a minute he decides to set up his phone to record himself. He does it often when he wants to remember something he’s playing. He hits record and continues playing and playing.
Since Yoongi had left for treatment, the rest of the guys have been working on their own projects. Namjoon and Hobi both have taken on a number of things that have been keeping them busy. Jungkook and Jimin have worked on a few features, but spend most of their time on live with Army. Especially Jungkook. Taehyung has been taking over the fashion world. And Jin has remained mostly low key other than popping in on a couple of variety shows. However, for one day Yoongi asked a favor of them if they could.
Operation: Hyeri’s birthday.
It didn’t take long for Yoongi to think of a way to both apologize to Hyeri and give her the grandest birthday he can given the circumstances. He started by quickly polishing the song he had begun playing on his keyboard. He recorded a final video of himself playing it. It’s a song dedicated to her.
After writing the song, he went searching online for someone who could have 3 grand bouquets of flowers delivered to her on her birthday. Then he got the idea to make it a surprise. He ordered flowers, candy, jewelry, a few pairs of shoes, a massive Shooky plush, and a designer purse all to be delivered in 3 days.
He didnt stop there. He wants the surprise to be big and meaningful. He needs help though, so he reached out to his brothers to assist. Jungkook and Taehyung are both in different parts of the world so they aren’t able to help, but the rest of the guys agreed to carry out Yoongi’s operation.
Namjoon will be in charge of getting Hyeri out of the house. She has a schedule the morning of her birthday, that will keep her out for a while, but after that Namjoon asked if he could treat her to a birthday lunch. That will keep her away longer to ensure Jin, Hobi, and Jimin have plenty of time to set up the apartment with all of the gifts being delivered.
Yoongi has lots of free time, so getting all of these things setup was quick and easy. Once he had everything set he worked on the most important thing. What to say to her.
He knows she mentioned they should stop talking so he doesn’t expect that she’d answer the phone if he called. So he has no other option other than to write her a letter. He could send her a text, but he wasn’t sure that was the way he wanted to do this.
During his session with Minho the following day, Yoongi told him everything he was planning. Of course he first had to talk about the conversation he had with her and how it hurt a bit, but that’s why he’s so determined to make this perfect. Minho helped brainstorm ideas and in the end Yoongi decided he would hand write a letter to her on his tablet and send it to her that way.
Hyeri woke up the morning of her birthday almost forgetting that it was even her birthday. If it wasn’t for her birthday lunch with Namjoon, she would have just figured this day were like any other. She has breakfast, studies the script for her audition a bit, then heads out when her new manager arrives to take her to her first appointment of the day.
As soon as she’s gone, Jin, Hobi, and Jimin get right to work. They brought extra decorations for added impact, though Yoongi may not be fully aware. They have balloons, ribbons, and confetti that they put in every area of the place. They accepted every delivery that came and made sure to display everything clearly so Hyeri can see as soon as she walks inside. They took pictures of everything and sent them to Yoongi for his approval. When all was perfect they left, leaving Hyeri’s surprise waiting for her.
Yoongi waited for the signal. The message from Namjoon saying they finished lunch and Hyeri should be on her way home. That’s when Yoongi sent the letter he had written to her.
Hyeri knows she told Yoongi she may not respond to his messages, but she said she would always read them. She thought by saying that he would at least send her something, but he hasn’t. She hasn’t heard from him since they last spoke on the phone, until now. She lit up when she saw his name pop up on her phone. She couldn’t even make it to the elevator to get up to their floor, she had to read it right away.
The moment she saw that it was a handwritten note, she knew it was something sincere. Yoongi doesn’t always do handwritten letters. She leaned against the wall near the elevators not bothering to press the button. She’s only concerned with what Yoongi’s letter says.
My Na Hyeri,
Happy birthday my love! I wish I could be with you to celebrate, but since I can’t I hope this is enough. There aren’t enough words in the universe to describe what you mean to me.
From the moment I met you, I knew that you were special. Your smile, your laugh, your personality...everything about you just makes me feel like the luckiest person in the world. Spending time with you always brings me peace and happiness, and I’m grateful for every moment we’ve had together.
I am so sorry for putting you through so much pain and heartache. I know that you deserve so much better than that. I’m working hard to become a better person, not just for you but for myself as well.
I know that the past year has been challenging for us, but I believe that our love is strong enough to endure anything that comes our way. I promise to work on myself and our relationship every day, so that we can continue to grow together.
I want you to know that you are the light of my life, and I will always do everything in my power to make you happy. I hope that you can feel my love for you at all times no matter how far apart we are.
I promise I will spend the rest of my life making up for all of my mistakes and showing you how much you mean to me. I love you with all of my heart, and I can’t wait to hold you in my arms again.
Forever mine. Forever yours.
Yoongi
Hyeri can hardly even read the last few lines of his letter through her tears. Her heart hurts but feels so full at the same time. She takes a second to pull herself together and takes the elevator up. When she steps into the front door the tears start falling again.
She’s immediately greeted by one large bouquet of fall flowers. When she looks up she sees ribbons strung across the ceiling along with many balloons, some heart shaped. She walks further inside and is greeted by a second bouquet, bigger than the first, sitting on the coffee table in the living room surrounded by more confetti, a bottle of her favorite wine, and a small jewelry box. Inside is a silver cuff bracelet covered in diamonds with a matching pair of earrings.
From there she goes into the bedroom where she finds Shooky presenting her with the third bouquet and a gorgeous purse and shoes that are perfectly her style. At this point shes shed enough tears to fill a pool. All of these gifts that he somehow has set up for her plus the heartfelt letter he sent her has her feeling more loved than she ever has in her life. He’s put her through a lot, but he’s so good to her.
She takes a picture of herself hugging Shooky and sends it to him thanking him for everything. She tells him that he’s made this one of her best birthdays ever and she loves him so much. He quickly responds with the video of him playing the song he had written for her. He simply titled it “Rainbow”. There are no words, just him caressing the keys into a gentle melody.
Hyeri closes her eyes as she listens and smiles at how beautiful the music feels gliding into her ears and radiating a soft weightlessness throughout her entire body. He’s played her many songs before, but none like this. None made specifically for her.
Yoongi didn’t expect Hyeri to respond, but he was so happy that she did. He’s even happier looking at the photo of her hugging Shooky the way he wishes he could hold her. The smile on her face and evident tears in her eyes lets him know his surprise was a success.
It’s more than a success. Hyeri is in tears at Yoongi’s surprise. She misses him so much it makes this moment of happiness and admiration a little bittersweet. She can only hope that next year she won’t have to spend the day away from him.
#bts#bts au#bts fanfic#bts fic#cross posted on ao3#bts smut#angst#tw depression#bts fluff#tw alcoholism#bts angst#min yoongi#Suga#yoongi x oc#Suga x oc#yoongi au#suga au#yoongi angst#suga angst#yoongi fluff#suga fluff#yoongi fanfic#suga fanfic#yoongi smut#suga smut#yoongi fic#suga fic#established relationship#idol au#yoongi
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i missed that class what dont you like about starlins rendition of their relationship?
(and also like, DID you think he did something in particular well or was it all…meh
the crux of my issues in this regard stems from batman #416. in the post-crisis era you began to see this way more lopsided depiction of bruce and dick's relationship wherein the former was portrayed to be almost.. bitter that dick had moved on to establish his own life. and it stood in great, great contrast to the bruce of the pre-crisis era, who was certainly devastated at the realization that dick was growing up, but also very intent for him to find his own happiness and way in life. they would have their disagreements on occasion (e.g., bruce initially disapproving of dick dropping out of college, bruce immediately taking leadership of a situation where the titans were involved when dick was better equipped to handle it, etc.) but the outcome of those situations was never outright bad yknow. bruce was very much capable of recognizing where he might have overstepped and subsequently stepped back to let dick have his own space. and i think initially max allan collins expanded on that dynamic in the post-crisis era in interesting ways by juxtaposing bruce's desire to see dick flourish against his own constant fear for dick's life. so instead of mike w. barr's comedic and lighthearted backup stories in early 80s tec where bruce disguised himself to keep an eye on dick's shenanigans and assure himself everything was going alright, you got this more serious confrontation within bruce with regards to his position as a parent. i don't think a lot of people read it that deeply but i've always viewed batman #408 as one of the most sensible depictions of that dilemma. the general complaints tend to be that this issue robbed dick of his pre-crisis decision to retire robin on his own, and i'll concede that as a worthwhile concern. but i don't think it's esp damning what with the implication that bruce no longer wants to be the person indirectly making the decision for dick to continue to be in this line of work. their moment at dick's bedside is less about bruce robbing him of the decision and more about him saying, if i let you still be robin, that's a direct reflection on me, bc i'm the one who got you to do all of this originally. i'm the one who put you directly in harm's way. if you're going to do this from now on, you need to do it on your own terms. you need to decide for yourself that this is who you want to be, without your relationship with me even being a factor.
it's a moment contributive to that delicious dynamic between them wherein every decision bruce takes to service dick's agency is inevitably read the wrong way by the latter to imply that he's not valued or not worthy of being seen as bruce's equal (and before the hounds pounce on me this obv does not include the increasingly abusive depiction of their relationship as the 90s progressed). that is an unavoidable dilemma when you're simultaneously someone's ward/adopted son and also their partner-in-crime! dick wants to be bruce's son and to be entitled to all of the love and care and protection that that entails but he also wants to be bruce's brother, his equal, his confidante, the one person he trusts more than anyone else in the world, etc. it's a tough place to be! it is paradoxical! and i'm so, so open to seeing that explored and think the way collins attempted to approach it in #408 was marvelous. but the way starlin (and other writers as well) totally swerved right in #416 to create this sudden resentment in bruce that dick had grown out of needing him was.. so utterly bizarre. like completely out of left field in a way i don't understand why people don't question it anymore bc in light of everything in the immediate fifteen years prior to the crisis it makes so little sense. their relationship with each other was so valued, bruce was so anxious to see dick establish himself while nonetheless maintaining a protectiveness over him, but it was all very much in good will even if he could overstep on occasion. it had all of the potential to allow for a very nuanced, empathetic exploration into the dilemmas of parenthood and esp when you are someone like bruce who has to forever live and contend with the crime of taking kids with him out onto the streets. bc he has to feel guilty! there is no escaping it. this is history, done and dusted forever, can't go back in time, so on and so forth. whatever harm comes any robin's way he has to live with as in some part being traceable back to his own actions. and i frankly believe that would be far more likely to evoke grief and anxiousness and concern than it would be bitterness that his son is charting out his own life
#as to do i think starlin did anything well. hmm#i like that he was able to acknowledge that jason's parents were loving people despite their circumstances#it didn't matter that willis was a criminal. what mattered was that he loved his family and would've done anything for them#which was a rare concession from starlin bc his writing could be pretty classist elsewhere#but at the same time idk sometimes i read it back and it's like. i don't think he was actually as classist as winick was ultimately#like it's been a While since i reread the starlin issues#but you could tell he believed jason's demise was less about his social class and more about being unable to fully recover from#or process his trauma as a result of the life he'd lived and the things he'd experience. hence the garzonas saga#and even in a death in the family the question is never about whether jason is acting out bc he's criminally inclined#bruce explicitly says he doesn't think he's given jason enough time to mentally and emotionally recover and that's why#he suspends him. so even starlin knew it was about the trauma first and foremost#and i mean that somewhat goes in line with his reasons for wanting to kill robin to begin with#he thought robin was symbolically representative of child abuse#in that it wasn't the conduit through which a young boy should necessarily grow#and ideally? the way to explore that in a medium that Requires the existence of child vigilantes#would have been to make the distinction that while there is always going to be some danger to every robin at the end of the day#what made the danger to jason distinct was that robin didn't work to resolve His trauma specifically#what robin did for dick is never something it could have done for jason let alone tim. there were too many other factors at play#so if this dilemma had been approached that way rather than starlin pursuing a blanket robin is child abuse ideology#that was subsequently picked up by other writers. then i think we might have gotten somewhere quite interesting#but anyway yeah so he's not my most hated by any means. there are parts i love there are parts i hate#ultimately at the end of the day winick will always be a gazillion times worse#outbox
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#@ english anon#pls don't ever apologize for ranting!!#am always here to listen!!#i completely understand the feeling of not clicking with or being able to fully understand a work that everyone else seems to love#this happens to me with books a lot especially classics which tend to have a lot of dense prose and complicated vocabulary#like you mentioned!!#and i'm not sure what author you're referring to although i might have a suspicion??#but at the end of the day i believe that reading should always be something that's FUN#and if reading something in particular is making you more frustrated than entertained#then i personally wouldn't force myself to keep reading it#the fact that you gave them a fair shot by reading multiple of their fics further solidifies that maybe#u just don't mesh well with their writing#and i just want to stress that that IS NOT A BAD THING!!!#it happens for everyone – i have a list of authors i consider talented but who i just don't click with in terms of writing#that being said i do also understand the feeling of missing out because you don't what everyone else seems to get :/#and that definitely sucks... but you have the make decision that's best for you at the end of the day!!#and the decision of how you want to spend your (valuable) time esp after giving it a fair shot as you definitely did!!#idk if i'm making sense shjskls i'm rambling now!!#but hopefully you get what i'm trying to say#and feel free to message me if you want to discuss further!#EDIT: just also want to further clarify and say that i kept saying 'writing style' specifically#but you mentioned not understanding the big picture either#and that has also happened to me a lot –– it's completely normal!!!#everyone has different interpretations and ideas about things#and sometimes your interpretations/perspectives match with someone else's and sometimes they don't#i can't count how many times the 'big picture' of a story has gone straight over my head#but i try not to blame myself for it because i know that it's just because people are all different + we have different ideas about things#okay stopping now for real!!
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Luke x reader where a girl, daughter of Aphrodite, flirts with him and insults the reader, causing her to avoid Luke, but later he manages to find her and confesses that he actually likes them... I don't know if they should already be together or not, but I believe in you!!! you write very well :ooo
Sorry if the idea is bad or you wouldn't want to write something like that, if that's the case please pretend you never read this 🤡🤡🫶
true colours; luke castellan
wc + pairing: 3.6k, luke castellan x child of iris! reader
synopsis: everyone wants luke castellan, including you. curse your mother for getting your hopes up.
warnings: friends to lovers, reader is very insecure, bullying, lee fletcher & will solace cameo!! some angst with a fluffy ending
notes: thank you for the request!! as always this is longer than i anticipated but hope you like it :) i also combined it with another request for a child of iris reader (i also identify as a child of iris sometimes so i lovee writing for them) also i’m pretty sure lee + a lot of parts of this are ooc sorry but i havent read the books in about a year so hopefully everything’s fairly accurate!🌈
You knew this summer would be different because your mother sent her wishes twice as much. On the first day of July, when children flood into Camp Half-Blood like a hive of wild bees, a rainbow always lights up the sky.
This year, there were two.
As a child of Iris you’re technically supposed to be in the Hermes cabin. But your love for art, for music, for fun, has made you a particular favourite of the Apollo cabin. Most of your friends are there. They tolerate you singing in your soft, often unsure voice. They love when you catch sunlight and filter it into prisms of colour on their cabin walls.
You’d probably move in there permanently if it weren’t for Hermes. Or rather, his son.
Over the last few months, in the sticky summer heat, your mother knew you would fall in love.
It's not any surprise you love Luke. Everyone loves Luke. A fact that's becoming more obvious every passing day.
It used to bother you less. You’ve always been his meagre, hopeless friend, never any real competition to these girls. You’d basically taken yourself out of the running and instead decided to pine after him in the very back of your mind. A safe, deluded fantasy that would never happen.
Until recently, where it seems less like a fantasy and more like a terrifying possibility.
Over the past few weeks Luke has gone out of his way to be sweet to you. Or at least you think so. He’s spent extra time talking to you at lunch, laughing at your half-formed jokes almost in earnest. At bonfires he saves you a seat, grabs you a marshmallow on occasion. You even made him a friendship bracelet of sorts—admittedly a little ugly—but he’s never taken it off. Not since the day you gave it to him.
Not to mention helping you last week before the archery competition. His hands lingering over yours as he steadied your bow, the curls of his breath on the back of your neck when he stood behind you.
“Don’t be nervous,” he says, a tinge of mirth in his voice. “You just steady your aim and first is as good as yours.”
(You came in fifteenth.)
You don’t want to say that it’s him weakening your aim, making your pulse beat out of your neck. His nose brushes against the back of your jaw as he leans forward and you smell the pine on his skin. Is this friendly? Is he this close on purpose? Are you delusional?
It’s all you’ve been thinking about these past few days. So when Luke Castellan’s endless admirers come to the forefront of your mind, you feel like all those moments of potential buildup have been ripped away.
“You alright there, sunshine?”
He takes you out of your spiral with a teasing lilt you love. When you look at him, his face is a shimmering warmth, complete with boyish smile.
“Yep,” you reply, trying to ignore the nickname making your insides flutter even though you know he’s saying it ironically.
You’ve always had a gift for identifying colour. It’s the thing you pay attention to most. Something inherited from your mother, you suppose. So you’ve memorized the way Luke’s eyes melt in the sunlight. How his scar blends with his pinking cheeks when it’s hot outside. You never told him, and you probably never will, but you’ve painted him from memory quite a few times in the Apollo cabin—always with the excuse that you were practicing. It's so blatantly obvious you're in love with him there's no point in your friends bringing it up.
The two of you are meandering around camp before dinner, a tradition Luke started early on in the summer. You talk about high points of your day (mostly you) or share nuggets of gossip you’ve heard around camp (mostly him). It's the thing you looked forward to every morning. A time when his words are just for you.
Idle chatter flows as you keep walking. Sometimes your arm brushes his and you have the embarrassing urge to tug yours away. You do your best not to stare at him too long or laugh too loud at his jokes.
“Hey, Castellan!” Someone calls.
Luke’s head turns. Your heart plummets. A beautiful girl, Aphrodite cabin, you think, is heading towards you. She’s all honey-spun hair and dazzling pink lips, and it’s obvious she knows it. You don’t know her name. But Luke does.
They fall into conversation the second she arrives. It’s just greetings, pleasantries, but there’s a coy smile on the girl’s face that betrays any sense of disinterest. “Heard you’re not too keen on pairing up with us for the Chariot Race next week. What gives?” Her tone is pouty and playful as she taps Luke’s shoulder. She side-eyes you, lips curling imperceptibly. “I’m sure you’ll have a better chance with us.”
He lets out a strained chuckle. “Dunno, just thought it was fine to switch it up.”
Just like that, you’re out of the loop again. More of her friends flock after her, and soon Luke is tangled in a whole other world. They’re all glowing with a kind of righteousness you only get when you’re popular. You know Luke has friends, tons of them. He's the leader of the cabin with the most campers. Not to mention assertive and gorgeous. His presence is so inviting it’s a challenge not to fall in love with him.
So you can’t blame this girl, the one that keeps touching his arm and giggling. It’s not like you’ve staked your claim on Luke—no one even knows you exist. As much as you want him to be yours, you know you’ll never stop someone from taking him first. It’s your fatal flaw, you think. Cowardice.
You end up sidelined completely. Watching him swathed in people more charismatic than you plants an ache deep inside you. All your wishful thinking feels sour now, a pipe dream, a bedtime story to help you sleep better. Somehow it hurts more knowing that it’s nobody’s fault but yours. These people can’t be doing this on purpose. It’s just who they are. It’s who you are—always a step behind, always daydreaming. You are your mother’s daughter, after all. Just a prism reflecting everyone around you.
Eventually, one of the boys in the group takes notice of you. He’s not nearly as captivating as Luke is—you don’t find the colours of his eyes hold as much depth. There’s also a haughtiness when he looks at you. He sneers, “What the hell do you have on your face?”
It draws the attention of others in the group. You feel like a naked sculpture in an art gallery. “Uh, what?” You stammer.
Some of them purse their lips. The girl with Luke lets a laugh slip. You’re pretty sure you look like an idiot, waiting there with your brows wrinkled in a daze. Their gazes keep flicking over to your cheek, so your hand flies up there before you can delay any more. When you press your fingers to the side of your face, they come away tacky and pink. Mortification constricts you.
Paint. It’s leftover, half-dried paint. The colour of Luke’s cheeks in the sun.
“Oh,” you say dumbly. It’s drowned by snickers. All you can do is find Luke, the only face you know, and ask, “Why didn’t you tell me?” without sounding too hurt.
You know you failed when your voice comes out wrong and his ebony brows push together. “I thought it looked—”
He never gets to finish because the golden girl laughs a little louder, the pink tones in her face a little darker. “Oh my Gods, you’re that Iris kid that’s always singing, right?” She giggles sharply, cornflower eyes darting between her friends. There’s something in there you can’t quite pick up on, until it flushes the pupils of all her friends, and they all grin with a secret knowledge they want you to see. “You’re, like, really good!” The girl simpers, but her bottom lip pulls between her teeth to soften another laugh.
“Oh, so good!” Another friend piles on.
Their passive-aggressive chuckles start to sound like hail on a window. You shift further away from them. Dirt slides beneath your shoe, and you long to kick up more of it, displace yourself, disappear.
You don’t look at Luke. The giggly, flaxen girl has already turned back to him, and you’re sure he’s enthralled once more. You try to stir up the image of Luke’s closeness during archery practice, the lilac bruise on his knuckles when he angled your bow, but it doesn’t take. Now, it feels like you’ve dreamed it.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Luke leaning down to catch a whisper from the Aphrodite girl’s ear. The boy that first commented on your cheek leans closer to you again. He’s suffocatingly smug when he grins, “Why are you still here? Shouldn’t you go … wash that off? You don’t want to look like that at dinner.” He snorts. “For an Iris kid, you really aren’t good at taking a message.”
If you were a more confident person, maybe you’d point out how that didn’t really make sense, or how stupid it sounded coming out of his mouth. But the sentiment of it wounds you, and you’re weak enough as is.
"Guess you're right," you mumble. You wipe your face of paint as you leave. The memory of Luke’s skin stains you until you wash your hands off in the sink.
You haven’t talked to him since.
It’s been a few days of you avoiding him, and it’s hard to explain to anyone why you’ve been doing it. How do you tell the truth? Luke Castellan is a work of art and you are … a weird doodle, or something. Despite your adoration, you know there’s no reason he should feel the same for you. Everyone loves him for a reason. Everyone must ignore you for one, too.
“Why haven’t you been talking to Luke?”
The question breaks your concentrated silence in the Apollo cabin. You’ve been sitting here for a while now, humming to yourself over a mostly blank canvas. The cabin is dusted with a lilac haze, thanks to your manipulation of the light streaming through the windows. Helps you feel less like you’re at camp and more like you’re in a fairytale.
“Helloooo, lady, I asked you a question.”
You begrudgingly look up. Lee Fletcher, head of the Apollo cabin, is at the mouth of the cabin, gazing at all your supplies strewn about the floor like they’re a bunch of unsavoury substances. “It looks like a hurricane came in here. Now why aren’t you talking to Luke?”
“How do you know I’m not talking to him?” You mutter as Lee sits beside you.
“Uh, because you’ve been sleeping here multiple nights in a row and you never do that. And you don’t sit with him at dinner. And whenever we see him you drag me in the other direction—”
“Lee!”
“I’m just saying, you should probably talk about it. My beautiful voice can heal wounds, yes, but not of the heart.” He splays a hand across his chest in mock theatrics.
You don’t say anything. The familiar weight of the brush against your fingertips is far more comforting than trying to talk, so you busy yourself with your canvas again. “He waits for you, you know,” Lee continues, quieter. “In the morning. And before dinner. He always asks if you’re here.”
“Oh,” you say, and your wavering voice betrays your expression. But you think of everyone else at camp, their gleaming smiles and their celebrated parents, their own cabins and friends and dreams, how you don’t seem to have any of those. You think of the girl whispering in Luke’s ear. All her shades of beauty. You know it’s wrong to compare yourself, to be jealous. You’re just … sad.
The cabin darkens from a lilac to an imperceptibly gloomier shade. A blue sort of longing gets caught in your throat, blurring the colours on your canvas. But you keep your brush steady, focused on the scratch of its bristles so you don’t have to hear what you say next.
“I think I love him, Lee.” And then, “But I don’t think he loves me.”
There’s no sound except the scraping of your brush when it’s run out of paint, and a sniffle when a tear rolls down your cheek.
“Oh,” Lee fills the silence the way you did just moments before. Then he says your name, laced with pity, and hugs you on the floor of his lavender cabin.
“You want to help me lead the bonfire song tonight?” He asks after a minute. “Or at least … come to the bonfire song?”
“No to the first, yes to the second.”
You wish you said no to both.
The spot you choose after dinner is right next to the fire so you can distract yourself with the golden flecks of flame. Fire is so fluid, so complex, from a colour perspective. But no matter how close you get, the searing warmth can’t hide Luke’s gaze peering over the embers.
He will not. Stop. Looking at you.
The singing from the Apollo kids usually soothes you but tonight it’s just making you anxious. All this attention so close to you. Will Solace has been sitting next to you this whole time, your unofficial assigned companion for the night thanks to Lee. One of his siblings beckons him over, and he shoots you an apologetic look, hesitating. "Just go," you wave off kindly. "It's all good." He's not entirely convinced, and you aren't either, but he squeezes your shoulder with thanks and leaves you anyway.
Now you’re acutely aware the space next to you is wide open. And so is Luke, it seems. There’s an awkward moment where your gazes slide over each other and he weaves out of his current crowd towards you. So you do the most mature, sound thing you could possibly do in this situation:
You say you have to go to the bathroom to no one in particular and get out of there.
It’s dark, but you’ve got sharper eyes than most. Soon the noise of the campfire is behind you. You traipse through the camp towards the bathroom,but you don’t get far before you hear something that makes your stomach drop in the worst and best way.
Luke, calling your name.
At first you think you can get away with not hearing him. Then he calls a second, a third, a fourth time, punctuated with, “Come on, I know you can hear me, can you just turn around?”
He’s got longer legs than you so the next time he speaks it’s practically in your ear. “Hey, just look at me. Please. I want to talk to you.”
There’s something so tender in his voice that it makes you cave immediately. But you already feel so fragile, you can feel the tears behind your eyes. You know you won’t have the strength to talk to him.
His hand curls gently around your wrist and it sends warmth all the way up your arm. He says your name again, softer, and you love the way it sounds. You can’t meet his eyes, but you already know what he looks like. Even in the dark you picture him crystal clear.
“Look at me,” he repeats. “I just—I need to know what I did wrong.”
His dark eyes are full and apprehensive when you heed him. You notice how much you’ve missed studying his face—the slight bunch of his brows, the tensing in his jaw. And you almost delude yourself that he’s missed you just as much, the way he squeezes your wrist and rakes over your expression.
“Why are you ignoring me?” He asks.
“I’m not—”
“You are. I know you. Just tell me why.”
He looks so sweet, so earnest, and it kills you. You think of the way he looked when all his friends made fun of you. It all comes up before you can help it.
“Do you always let me walk around looking like an idiot?” You ask bitingly, staring at the floor. “The thing, with the paint on my cheek—why didn’t you tell me? I looked so stupid and all your friends just laughed at me!”
His face falls. “I tried to tell you, I thought—”
“It’s okay to say you don’t like me, or that you’re embarrassed, or whatever, but I …” You swallow, tears thick on your lower lashes. “Everyone makes fun of me. I don’t know why you don’t.”
“Because I do like you,” he states, hand moving up to your forearm.
“Don’t say that,” you whisper. “You’re so much … better, you know you are, and I don’t want your pity, or your spare time. I just—I made something up in my head that wasn’t there and I only noticed it the other day after you talked to that girl and that guy made fun of me and I’m really, really sorry—”
“It looked cute. I was trying to say I didn’t tell you about the paint because I thought it was cute.”
There’s a lull.
“What?” You blink stupidly.
“I know I should’ve told you about it, but I swear I was going to before dinner, I didn’t think we’d run into anyone before then.” His cheeks tinge red. “I had this whole dumb thing planned out where I’d wipe it off your cheek and tell you how cute it was once you got embarassed. I was waiting to tell you. I was thinking about it the whole time.”
His hand on your arm is a frighteningly grounding thing. You're dumbstruck by that alone. Your lips part, but all that comes out is, “Why?”
A gentle laugh tumbles out of his throat. “Why do you think?”
His other hand comes up to brush your cheekbone, where the paint had been, and you can imagine him doing it to you on that day. How you'd probably react just the way he said you would, the way you are now. A warm orange glow blooming in your chest. “But the girl—”
“She tried whispering to me how much she liked my bracelet,” he smiles fondly. “Told her you made it for me. It shut her up. I don’t know what that guy said to you but I chewed ‘em all out the second you left. They knew I wasn’t happy. I tried looking for you but you were gone. I don't like them, you know."
You don’t know what to say. It’s too difficult, too uncertain for you to jump the gun on this. So you just stare at all the shifting colours on his face as he moves closer to you. All this time going over his every detail, and there's still more to be enthralled by.
“I found the paintings,” he says, voice so close you can feel it brushing your skin. “The ones of me. I was looking for you in the Apollo cabin a week ago and you left one out. I knew it was yours because ... I mean, there’s no one in the world that can make me look that … beautiful.”
The last word is apprehensive but it’s spoken with an unimaginable tenderness. He looks a little teary himself. You think you’re dreaming. “I knew I had to tell you after that. I’ve been trying to tell you. But you started pulling away from me so I thought I was making it all up.”
“Tell me what?” It’s a ghost of a question between you, an impossible thing, but the hand on your arm slips around to your back and he presses it there with such certainty.
“You’re really gonna make me say it?” He cocks his head, but you nod. “I’m in love with you, I think.”
The words cascade over you in ribbons of warmth. Your brain feels fuzzy, seperate from the rest of your body. Your mouth opens multiple times but you can’t seem to control what comes out. “Luke, are you joking?”
“Not even a little.”
“But you’ve got so many other—”
“I want you.”
“I am literally the most incompetent person alive; I can’t sing, I can’t talk to people, I have a weird knee—”
"Your knee is fine!"
"I'm just saying, this makes no sense from an outsider perspective, it's—"
“Okay, clearly the telling thing isn’t working so I guess I’m just gonna have to kiss you.”
It happens so quickly you don’t have any time to think (probably for the better). You let out a surprised “oh” before his mouth silences you, stopping every other thought. He’s gentle, thumb still rubbing your cheekbone, other hand still firm at your waist. You want to panic—where should you put your hands? How do you know you’re doing this right? But he steadies you, the way he always does, and you give in.
He starts to smile against your lips. You’re almost positive the intensity of your heartbeat could summon a storm. When he pulls away, he kisses the corners of your mouth and you think you’re going to evaporate. “I don’t think I’m very good at this,” you whisper.
“You’re perfect.” He grins a little when your hands tentatively tug at a curl on the nape of his neck. “And none of that stuff you say is true. I mean, you’re definitely a better singer than me.”
Leaning close to your ear, he warbles out a song you know but gets the words horribly wrong anyways. You can’t help but laugh. “Okay, maybe you have a point.”
He hums and chuckles with you. You swear the moon gets brighter when he wraps his arms around your waist to kiss the side of your face. “Next time you paint me, I want to be there when you do it.”
You blush harder than you ever have in your life. “Only if you try painting me,” you say quietly.
“Of course. You’re very pretty, so I’m sure my horrible artistic skills won’t even make you look bad.”
Luke lets you press your face into the crook of his neck. You soak it up for all it’s worth.
In the morning, you wake up in the same position. Your nose tucked against his collarbone, the shade of pink you love freckled across his cheeks. You can't wait to paint him again.
When you look out the window, you say a silent, grateful prayer to your mother.
She's given you two more rainbows.
#perrie’s fics#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan#charlie bushnell#perrie's requests#pjo#pjo x reader#pjo fic#luke castellan fic#luke castellan imagine#luke castellan fluff#percy jackson and the olympians#pjo tv show#heroes of olympus#percy jackson
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Something you paid for
Fernando Alonso x Reader
Summary: Two years into the best relationship of your life, you find out that Fernando thinks you don't love him. But it get worse and you realize the whole world think of you as gold digger.
Word count: 5.7k
Tags: female!reader, established relationship, slut shaming, reader is confused, fernando is even more confused, miscommunication, cursing, a bit angsty, hurt/comfort, soft smut (almost not there), happy ending, not beta read
Relationship: Fernando Alonso x Reader
Note: I'm honestly not 100% sure about this story, a had another ending planned but I wanted it to be HEA. I don't know. :(
I'm sorry if it's rushed or full of mistakes. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx
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It was supposed to be just a pause in your studies. Something quick since your brain was already mushy from studying and writing your research for too long.
So when you picked up your phone, to aimlessly scroll through social media, you didn’t expect to see a new, sudden rush of comments on your instagram page. There were thousands of comments in your last post, calling you a gold digger, and much, much worse. Ever since you started dating Fernando, you had been getting these comments, and in the beginning they were worse but slowed down with time. Now they were on a new high again. Confused more than anything, you went on to try and find out what happened for this to happen all of a sudden. You and Fernando hadn’t gone out together for more than two weeks and you hadn’t been to a race week for a month.
After digging you eventually found out what happened. Deuxmoi posted something that made everyone quickly think it was you.
A lady who’s 12 years younger than her famous Spanish Formula One driver boyfriend, is known for being with him for his money. Many tried to warn him, but it seems like he doesn’t believe or doesn’t care.
Confused, you stared at the post, scrolling through hundreds of nasty, poisonous comments. That wasn’t true. Fernando did give you lots of presents and spoiled you a lot but he did this out of his own want, not because you asked for or demanded it. He was constantly giving you things, especially clothes, shoes and bags, and loved seeing you wearing them. He also gave you an Aston Martin car on your last birthday. He even went as far as getting you a credit card attached to his, for whenever you needed to buy books or go on a shopping spree. You never minded it because you knew he liked it, instead of refusing you were just grateful for his generosity.
You wondered if you should talk about it with him, but deep down you knew Fernando was never one to care for gossip of any kind. And this probably wasn’t even true to begin with, just someone trying to stir the pot. So you just limited the comments in your posts and went on about your day.
A week later you went to the race, it was Silverstone, and the last before summer break. You decided to dress your best, wearing clothes that were pretty and elegant and had been given to you by Fernando.
He always treated you like a princess, he was kind and patient, and always found a way to align your schedules to spend time together. He liked taking you on trips during summer break and to ski trips during winter break. Fernando adored having you around in race weeks, you could see in his face that he was radiant with your presence. And you loved all the gifts and the trips but you especially loved staying home with him, lazing around, making love on the sofa and taking walks hand in hand in his hometown. You loved helping him cook, trying your best to follow his orders and not mess up his recipes.
You walked into the paddock hand in hand, and you kept him company whenever you could. He would keep you around the most, only letting you go when he had meetings or media duties. During that time, you would go back to his room and do a little more of your research, writing your thesis.
You left his room so you could grab a snack and a coffee at the hospitality, but as you passed by a hallway, you heard someone saying your name in conversation. You stopped, leaning against the wall to hear, with a glance, you saw two mechanics talking.
“Seems like everyone tried to warn him, man. But it’s like he doesn’t mind dating a gold digger.”
“Is she a gold digger, really?”
“Man, she doesn’t do anything! She doesn't even work.”
“Has anyone warned Fernando?”
“Everyone.”
You went back inside his driver’s room, sitting down, completely shocked. So that’s what people thought of you? You knew people on the internet talked about it, but they were strangers so you wouldn’t allow yourself to mind because those people didn’t know you. But the people in the garage? They’ve known you for almost two years now, you were always kind and polite to them, even going as far as bringing them cookies and donuts as thank you for welcoming you so well.
You avoided crying, it would ruin your makeup, and Fernando would notice it very quickly. So you just sat there, numb. Thinking about how everyone believed you were with Fernando because of his money and nothing else.
When Fernando found you again, before he had to go get ready for the race, he noticed you were a little down.
“You should not study so hard on the weekends, princesa.” He muttered, hugging you from behind and leaving a gentle kiss to your neck. Of course, he would think you were just tired.
“You are absolutely right, mi amor,” you smiled a little, turning around so you could hug him properly, “do you have time for a little kiss?”
“Even two,” he joked.
You ended up sitting on his lap, making out like two teenagers, until someone knocked on the door, calling Fernando to go get ready.
“Hey, good luck, yeah?” You said, kissing him one more time then kissing the back of his hand, “I love you.”
You watched the race from the garage, feeling self conscious now that it seemed like everyone thought you were leeching off of Fernando.
In the end, Fernando got P3 which was a great result and you celebrated wildly, proudly watching him get on the podium.
After his post race meetings, you met him in his room.
“Let’s go out to celebrate! Dinner is on me!” You hugged him, mood better now than before.
You and him ended up going out for dinner, at a high end restaurant, dressed to the nines. It was fun, you listened to Fernando talking about the race, then he asked you what you thought about the race.
Before dessert, you went into the bathroom to retouch your makeup and freshen up. When you came back, your tiramisu was already there. You and Fernando shared the dessert, laughing to each other.
When the waitress came, you picked the opportunity.
“Dear, can we get the tab please?”
“It’s already taken care of, Madam.”
Your smile faltered, and you looked at Fernando as she left. He was smiling like he couldn’t hold it in.
“Fernando! I said dinner was on me!”
“Why would I let you pay, princesa?”
“Because you got a podium today! As a celebration!” You whined, upset. Fernando pulled your chair, until you were right beside him and he kissed your cheek.
“I like paying for you, Hermosa,” Fernando stood up, offering you a hand, “come on, you can treat me right in our hotel room, what about that?”
You smiled as he pulled you away, but something still nagged at your brain.
You and Fernando took the private plane back to Madrid after the date, because he had sponsor meetings over the week, and you honestly wanted to sleep in your bed. The trip was quick, and while Fernando took a nap, you tried studying, but your mind kept going back to being called a gold digger.
Deep down, you really wanted to talk to Fernando about it, but you were unsure if he could fix this in any way. What could he do? Make a post on instagram saying hey, my girlfriend isn’t leeching off of me as most you think!? You did live with Fernando, for six months now, and he paid all the bills and the house was his. But he also gave you many many gifts.
When you got home, putting your bags inside the closet, you two just changed into sleepwear, ready to doze off.
Then Fernando opened his bag and grabbed a small box.
“Oh, I had forgotten! Got you a present last week in Austria!”
He handed you the box, and with your heart beating fast, you opened it to a beautiful vintage watch. It was gold, delicate with a beautiful bracelet. There was a lump in your throat as you stared at the piece.
“You didn’t like it? It’s ok, princesa, I’ll get you another one,” he said, with a gentle smile.
“I don’t need another watch, Nando. You gave me this one not even a month ago,” you raised your wrist, showing him the brand new one he gave you.
“I want to give it to you. It doesn’t matter,” he shrugged.
“And I don’t want it,” god, you didn’t want to sound so ungrateful, but how could you tell him that his presents felt like something else now? “You have to stop giving me so many presents,” you said, trying to put into words what you were feeling.
“But that’s how I won you over, why would you refuse my presents now?”
Something about the nonchalance in his voice made you stop, stomach dropping. That’s how I won you over? That’s how he believed your relationship came to be? That’s why he thought you were together?
“What did you say?” You paused, suddenly turning to him, it felt like a punch to the throat, “You- you believe I’m a gold digger? You believe it?”
Fernando walked up to you, putting both hands on your waist, a soft smile gracing his face.
“Amor, you know I don’t mind spending my money on you. Quite the opposite, I love to spoil you.”
You stood there, speechless for a couple of seconds. Then you snapped out of it, pushing his hands off you.
“That’s not what I asked!” Your voice sounded louder, you tried to regain your composure, “people talk a lot, the press too, but you know the truth, right?!”
“I’m a rich man, I like providing you with the luxurious lifestyle you lead. I don’t care that you enjoy my money.”
His words made it so much worse. It made you nauseous, the idea that all this time, he’s been thinking of you as a gold digger, as someone who’s only with him for his money and for what he could provide for you.
“No, Fernando- no!” Your voice wavered, “that’s not true! I love you, you know that right?”
“Why are you so caught up in some silly rumor?
“You know right? You know I love you.” You pressed further waiting for an answer. Hoping against hope that he knew it deep down, that he could acknowledge that you harbored love for him.
“Amor, we have such a great dynamic like this. I don’t need your love, just your loyalty and for you to be my pretty girl.”
He was so calm and reassuring, like he had made peace with the fact that you didn’t love him. Like he wasn’t bothered at all by the fact that you were supposedly a gold digger. His dismissal broke something inside you.
“So you don’t- you don’t believe I love you?”
You felt pathetic and helpless, repeating the same words again and again, hoping and praying for a different answer from Fernando.
“Come on, I’m really tired, can we go to sleep?
“Fernando.”
“I’m going to wait for you in bed,” was all he said, dismissing you completely.
You walked out of the room at the same time he went into the bathroom, you held your head up until you softly closed the door behind you, then finally the tears spilled. You went to the bathroom downstairs, the farthest you could go away from him as the sobs broke from your throat violently.
Sliding down on the floor you wondered if everything was lie. You knew it wasn’t but the fact that he thought you were only there for the money was completely wrong. How long had he been thinking that? How many times had he heard you say “I love you” and thought it wasn’t true? You didn’t even know what to do or what to feel. How could you feel if this whole time while you were pouring your heart into this relationship he thought you were just leeching off of him? How can you love someone so deeply and still live with the fact they think of you as a freeloader? Did he joke with his friends like yeah, she’s a gold digger but at least she’s loyal and fucks me well?
Your chest hurt and you felt repulsive, making your way to the living room, opening a bottle of his whiskey, not bothering with a glass, just sipping it straight from the bottle.
What could you do now? Talk to him? Tell him you’re not with him for his money? After two whole years accepting his every gift with open arms? After getting a fortune worth of presents? After letting him pay for your books, textbooks, new laptop? After letting him pay for dates, trips, clothes, accessories, shoes and jewelry?
You hated yourself for it now. For taking it just because you thought it was his love language, not because deep down he was trying to keep you, buying your affection.
After spending the whole night awake, nursing a bottle and with only your repulsive thoughts as company, you watched as the sun rose from the big living room window.
It was time to fix it.
Fernando was an early riser almost every morning, so after the sun fully rose in the sky, you went in the kitchen and prepared coffee, to cut the effect of the alcohol. You weren’t drunk, really.
“Morning, bebé! You woke up earlier than me today?” He said, passing you with a kiss to your cheek, then going to the cabinet for a mug. He was so unbothered by your argument last night it was pissing you off.
“I didn’t sleep.”
He paused, looking at your face.
“We should talk.” You readied yourself. Fernando stopped in front of you, attentive. “I’ve been hearing a lot this past week that I’m a gold digger, this has been making me feel some kind of way, and I wanted to address this with you. Last night you were tired and we probably misunderstood each other…”
“Where are you going with this, corazón?” He asked, confused.
“I’m not with you for your money, Fernando. Do you understand that?”
He stood silent, which only made you feel worse.
“I want you to stop giving me presents without a proper occasion. And I want you to stop paying stuff for me. And we’re going to share house bills.” You laid it all out, after thinking hard all throughout the night.
“What are you talking about? No, I don’t accept it.” He frowned, “that wasn’t the deal when we moved in together.”
“Because I didn’t know everything back then. I don’t want to feel like I’m taking advantage of you, and I don’t live at your cost like this.”
“No, Y/N.” He took a step back, shaking his head as if you had said the most stupid thing he had ever heard.
“I’m serious, Fernando.”
“No, I’m not negotiating this. I pay for everything. That’s how it’s been and that’s how it will be.”
“I just want to show you that I’m not with you for the money! I’m not what they’re calling me! No more presents, Fernando.”
“You took them.”
“Because I thought you wanted me to have them!”
“I wanted you to have them so you would want to stay with me!”
You gasped, hearing it from his mouth finally. The tears finally started flowing, and you swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady even with the tempest happening inside your chest, staining the beautiful story of your relationship. Well, what you thought was a beautiful relationship.
“You’re just like them, right?” You said, defeated, “you think of me as a gold digging whore. You probably never defended me when they called me that.”
“I gave you all this stuff because I didn’t want you to leave!”
“It was never about the fucking money! And guess what? You lost me anyway!” You marched to the bedroom, Fernando hot on your heels.
“Don’t. Don’t leave.” He said, following you. “I did everything for you to never leave!”
“Everything but loving me! I don’t fucking care!” You unlatched your necklace, putting it on the table, “I don’t care about your money and the jewelry and the clothes and the bags!” You put down your watch and earrings too. Everything he had given you not because he wanted you or loved you, but because he thought they were the price to pay to keep you around.
“Fuck, I love you!” You shouted, feeling desperate and lost, “And all you see me as is something you paid for. A toy you can parade around and look pretty in your arm! You don’t even love me, Fernando. I could write a list about everything I love about you, and none of it would be your stupid money!”
In the closet, you picked a bag, and started putting your clothes inside. Then you noticed how most of them were gifts from him. So you put it back, taking only what you had bought yourself. Fernando stood there, helpless as you packed, putting clothes and a few shoes in a couple of baggage. You also took your study material and laptop, which he had gifted you, but you knew you’d refund him.
“Stop, no,” Fernando tried to stop you as went into the garage, “I do, I love you.”
“You don’t, Fernando. You’re not even sure of that.” You shook your head, putting the bags inside the car. The Aston Martin he had given you, “you have to think. If you really love me as you say, then why do you love me? Because I’m eye candy you can take to galas? Because I’m a good fuck? Because I stand there and look pretty when you have to kiss those old men’s asses?”
You didn’t give him a second, getting in the car and starting the engine.
“This is so messed up, oh my god, how could I let myself believe this for two entire years?” You whispered to yourself, accelerating the car and driving off.
Through the rear view, you could see Fernando standing there, doing nothing.
You drove and wiped the tears away, breathing in. When you moved in with Fernando, you hadn’t been able to get out of the lease of your flat because you still had a few months on your renting contract. Now it felt like luck that you had a place to stay. Despite getting your doctorate degree, you didn’t have any friends in the city, only a few acquaintances here and there.
You got to the apartament, not bothering to unpack your bags, only leaving it on the bedroom floor. You took your study material and with your phone in hand, you sent Fernando via transfer a total 4000 euros, for what you hoped covered the “laptop and books expenses” as you wrote in the little note.
Then you laid on the bed, crying yourself to sleep.
You woke up and it was getting dark, the sun setting outside. Checking your phone, there were fourteen missed calls from Fernando, and a notification, showing that he had returned the money to you, with additional 30000 euros and only “no” written on the little note. Huffing, you sent the whole amount back and blocked him, so he couldn’t transfer any more money to you.
He still had not realized what was wrong, he was still thinking money was your motivation.
The next few days felt like a haze, you were barely getting any sleep, only eating and writing your research, which ultimately reminded you of Fernando, since it was a study on aerodynamics. You couldn’t lie to yourself, thinking of how many times you stared at the door, waiting and hoping he would understand and come after you.
-
Fernando had work commitments in England, and going back to Madrid, he ended up giving George and his girlfriend a lift. Fernando was visibly not himself as soon as George saw him.
“How’s Y/N doing?” George asked, casually. But from the way Fernando’s face dropped, he could tell something was wrong, “trouble with the missus?” He joked, tried to lighten the mood.
“She- uh, she left.” Fernando muttered.
“What do you mean, she left?” Carmen joined the conversation, “She’s traveling?”
“No- no- I guess we broke up.”
“You guess?!” George’s voice went a little high pitched out of nervousness.
“Fernando, what happened?” Carmen tried to understand.
Despite not being exactly best friends, you and her were pretty close, always spending time together whenever both of you were on race weekends. The fact that you’re both engaged academics was also a common topic between you.
“You know about the rumors, right?” Fernando started, hesitating.
“What rumors?” George paused.
“That she’s only with me for the money,” Fernando muttered.
“All girlfriends of drivers are accused of that at some point, what’s new?” George pushed.
“I might have implied that I agree with that.”
“Oh, my god,” Carmen covered her mouth, absolutely shocked, “What?”
“Fernando, respectfully- Are you fucking insane?!” George exclaimed, jaw slack, “she looks at you all lovey-dovey, like- like- you’re the only person in the entire earth and you think she’s with you for the money?”
“She would never be like that! She’s so smart and kind,” Carmen added.
“I know- I just- I don’t know! Maybe I let the rumors get to my head!” he ran both hands over his face, exasperated, “And she always lets me pay, and she always takes the presents, I don’t know!”
Then, Fernando explained about how you tried to pay for dinner, and you refused his gift, he told them about the argument and how you wanted to set boundaries about money and gifts.
“She was trying to prove to you that she’s not a freeloader. She was trying to show that the money didn’t matter, and what did you do? You pushed more money on her!” George practically spat the words in Fernando’s face.
“Eres muy estúpido, Fernando. Te lo digo como tu amiga.” Carmen muttered.
“I don’t know what she said but I heard the word stupid, and I agree.” George backed her up, “Go talk to her, apologize and fix it.”
“That is,” Carmen interrupted, face serious, “If you really love her. Otherwise, better let her go find someone who can really love her, it’s what she deserves. Love and happiness.”
Fernando swallowed, his chest constricting with the mere thought of you moving on, of someone else having you in their arms.
Getting back home without you there felt like a thick fog day, cold and empty and he missed you, he missed his sun. He missed you jumping into his arms as soon as he opened the door. He missed the smell of the candles you always lit while studying. He even missed the little mess of textbooks, colorful highlighters and notes scattered around.
Home didn’t feel like home without you.
In the middle of the living room, there were big cardboard boxes, as he opened, he noticed they were full of clothes, shoes and bags he had gifted you throughout your relationship. In a smaller box, all the jewelry he had given you, even anniversary gifts. Even the beauty products he had given you like perfumes, makeup products, and face creams.
You had returned every single thing.
And on the coffee table, your keys to the house and the keys of your Aston Martin DB12.
It seemed like you had returned everything that could tie you to him, everything that made him wrongly call you a gold digger. And it felt painfully like a goodbye.
-
While mixing your homemade coffee, your eyes flicked to the door, then to your phone on the table, facing up. Despite the searing pain in your chest, and the sorrowful hole in your heart, maybe it was time to start to move on. It had been more than a week, if he wanted to come back to you, he would’ve come by now.
You got ready to meet with your advisor, and she brought up a topic that had been common now, about you taking a position as a professor for a couple of Engineering subjects. She said it’d be good for you to work in your area while on the last few months before getting your doctorate degree. You had mostly denied the other times she offered the position, because you wanted more time with Fernando, because you wanted the freedom to fly around the world following him to his races.
Now- now you had more bills to pay and no boyfriend to follow. You also had more free time, a broken heart and a vacant mind.
“I’m considering the position. I believe it could do me good right now.” You said to her, thoughtful, “can I confirm with you tomorrow?”
After going through the meeting and getting a review on your thesis, you went back to your flat, taking a long shower. You had just dressed in pajamas when the doorbell rang. With long strides, you were faced with Carmen, and not Fernando as you expected.
“From your face I take it he hasn’t spoken to you, yes?” Carmen muttered, seeing the visible disappointment in your face.
“I’m sorry, please come in,” you opened the door wider, forcing a smile. Carmen had a couple of bags that she set on a nearby table.
“He told us what happened, I’m so sorry,” Carmen hugged you and you immediately started crying, since you had no one to talk about the past few days, “I brought chocolates and wine, so we can talk.”
Over chocolates and a bottle of Merlot, you told her everything, starting at the deuxmoi rumor. She looked horrified when you said word for word what had transpired the last time you spoke with him.
“I just don’t understand why he didn’t come talk to you yet,” Carmen added, at some point.
“Because he won’t, at all.” You say with your voice shaky from crying so much the past hour.
“Don’t say that. He loves you.” Carmen said.
“I’m not entirely sure about that,” you shrugged, pretending it didn’t hurt as much as it did, “He’ll find another one, someone who can enjoy his money since it seems like it’s all that matters to him.”
Carmen didn’t say anything to that and you knew she couldn’t argue with the facts. Later, George dropped by to get her, going up to your flat so he could hug you quickly and mutter “I’m sorry”.
With a heavy heart, you slowly rebuild a healthy routine again, doing grocery shopping, cooking meals, going to the gym, studying and everything.
One day, you went back home after going on a shopping spree, and as you got into the hall, Fernando was there, standing in your hall, waiting by the door. You stopped, almost losing the timing to leave the elevator. When you walked closer, he noticed you. Meeting his eyes was different this time, uncertain and a little distant.
“What do you want?” You asked, you hoped your voice would come out harsh, but it only sounded defeated.
“Can we talk?” He asked, and you nodded, opening the door and letting him in.
There was a moment of awkward silence as you put the shopping bags down. After doing that, you crossed your arms and stood against a side table, waiting quietly.
“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, for not fully believing your love, I guess I was so focused in protecting myself, that I ended up hurting you, and it was never my intention,” Fernando stood just two steps away from you, his eyes holding such pain and fear, that it made you crumble, he didn’t look like he’d been sleeping well, “I love you, I really do. For who you are and nothing else.”
You wanted to give in so bad, you wanted to run into his arms and never let go, but you also didn’t want to suffer again.
“How do you know? You never knew that for two years, how would you know it now?” You shook your head, tears starting to fill your eyes again.
“Because it is hard being without you,” he said, like he was trying to find the right words, “I can’t sleep without you. My life is miserable without you around.”
You only nodded, covering your lips with a hand. You wanted to tell him that you had not gotten proper sleep without him, that your life feels empty, that not knowing about him everyday was painful. But you needed more. You needed something you could hold onto, and maybe, just maybe take another chance at the two of you.
“I- I made a list. Like you said,” his voice failed, and you noticed his hand was shaking a little as he held the paper, “I love you. I love coming home to you every time and feel our house so lived in. I love how you always hug me first thing after I’m back home. I love the silly texts you send me randomly throughout the day talking about your day. I love the selfies with your tongue out too,” that made you two chuckle, and the movement made your tears fall, so you wiped them, staring at him intently, “I love that you’re always the smartest person in any room we’re in. I love that you’re humble, never showing off or being a smartass. I love how cheeky and witty you are. I love that you talk in your sleep. I love that scar in your knee, because it shows you were always a little naughty, even as a kid. I love that there’s always fresh flowers at home. I love that you love kids. I love that you get along well with my family. I love that you-”
He didn’t finish, as you closed the distance and launched yourself at him, hugging him tight. Fernando held you close, pressing you into him, inhaling your perfume, feeling like he was at home again.
“I’m so sorry, princesa. So so sorry. I missed you so much,” he whispered against your cheek, kissing it softly.
“I missed you too, Nando” you said, eyes closed and allowing yourself to just feel him again, “I love you so much.”
You let go, holding his face with both hands, looking into his eyes before kissing him softly. He, on the other hand, held the back of your neck firmly, licking your mouth open, until he had tasted your mouth, leaving you breathless.
“Come back home with me, princesa.”
At that, you took a step back.
“I- I can’t, Nando. I got a new job at the university.”
“What?”
“I thought you weren’t coming back to me,” you muttered, and your words made him wince, “I needed something to hold on to.”
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” he ran a hand over his face, looking embarrassed for taking so long to come after you.
“I believe we should- we should take a step back, rethink a bit about our dynamic,” you told him, hesitant of his reaction.
“Are you unsure about us?” He asked, visibly worried.
“No, no- I love you- I do-” You started, taking his hand, holding it firmly against yours, “I just think we should rewind a bit. Have my own place and pay my own bills, I just don’t want to feel like that again, I need to regain my dignity in this.”
He kept quiet, because he knew deep down you were right. He felt awful about all the misunderstandings, but he knew you probably felt much, much worse. He should just get on his knees and be thankful you still loved him and still wanted him. He’d take all your conditions to get back with him.
And deep down both of you knew it was for the best. Moving out and living alone, working and seeing him occasionally as a boyfriend.
Holding your face, he kissed you, leaving little pecks on your lips, your cheeks, your chin, your forehead. You closed your eyes, letting him kiss you, and he muttered how much loved you and how much he missed you, kissing down the side of your neck. He walked you inside and let him, feeling his hands quickly peeling your clothes off, leaving a trail of clothes from the living room to your bedroom.
You parted so you could undress him, pulling at his jacket and the t-shirt.
“I love you, I love you so much,” he mumbled into a kiss, laying you down in bed.
You laid on the bed and he hugged him, making space for him between your legs. He held you, touching your nose with his gently.
“I missed you, princesa,” he kissed your cheek, “I promise I’ll do better from now on.”
“I know you will, baby.” You kissed him again, running your hand down his back, “make love to me now.”
He filled you up at once, and you groaned into his mouth, scratching your nails down his back as you cunt welcomed him. As he fucked into you, slowly at first then picking up pace, he muttered how much he loved you and how sorry he was, over and over.
As you cuddled after, quietly enjoying each other’s company.
“What do we do about all your gifts?”
“Give them away,” you shrugged.
“Can I convince you to take it back?”
“Not if you still want me in your life,” you muttered. He nodded, placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder.
“You know how I know I love you?” Fernando asked, drawing invisible patterns on your back, “there’s an engagement ring in the third drawer of my bedside table.”
You hesitated for a second, but he knew you well. Better than anyone else.
“I know what you said, I just wanted to let you know. I bought it a week after you moved in with me. I know we’re rewinding a little bit for now, but you’ll be my wife one day.”
“And what if I refuse when you propose?” You smirked, and he pulled your leg over his waist.
“You won’t.”
Note: UGH IDK GUYS :(
#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1#formula 1#fernando alonso x you#fernando alonso x reader#fernando alonso#Spotify
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Paring: Oliver Quick x Fem!Reader
Word count: 3520
Summary: You’d only been visiting family at Saltburn for a few weeks, but this time you couldn’t shift the feeling of something or someone watching you.
Warnings: SMUT (ONLY READ IF YOU ARE 18+) unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), choking, stalking? Kind of?, two way mirrors, vague horror ish themes, dubious consent, generally fucked up smut overall
Writers note: Hi friends! This is my first Oliver fic, I’m planning on writing more so let me know if you have any requests. I’ve only seen the film once so I apologise if my writing of him isn’t quite right yet.. just read his parts with his accent and I think it works! Please share, comment, like and all of those good things 💕💕
Part 2
21 days, almost a full month, that’s how long it had taken you to get to grips with the enormity of Saltburn. Most of that time had been spent mistakenly walking into a linen closet which supplied one of the many bedrooms believing it was the entrance to your room. You’d even drawn yourself a map by this point and somehow, you still managed to get lost, the house was almost as much of a maze as the actual maze in the garden was. You had checked off your room, all of the shared spaces and most of the other bedrooms, inhabited or otherwise, all marked down perfectly on your little map. There was only one wing of the house which you were not allowed into, Elsbeth called it the ‘bachelor pad’ something you know Felix would have at the very least groaned at. He’d been sharing this space with his guest, another student named Oliver. He was quiet, a bit of a mystery overall but from that you assessed that he was a man who liked his privacy, making you chalk up their reluctance to have you in that space no more than a matter of comfort. A comfort you wish that you could say you felt also.
You visited Saltburn many times as a child, the family themselves were distant relatives of yours which is why you always summered there when your parents were away on business. You’d never felt uncomfortable there before, but this time something was different even though you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Maybe it was the heat getting to you, maybe it was the ever changing list of house guests that visited or the way that it seemed the eyes on the paintings of long dead aristocracy seemed to follow you around the room. Something had changed, if only you could put your finger on it.. or a toe.. maybe even an out stretched palm if you felt confident enough, anything to make this restlessness end. Every night that you laid in bed, you felt something, someone, watching you. You had checked, you’d opened every door, searched every shelf and wandered into every linen closet in the vicinity of your room and every time, nothing. Your well drawn map granting you no ease of mind, even with all of the labels you’d added to it over the last few weeks. The constant tossing and turning ceased only by one saving grace, you’d remembered to pack your vibrator.
Every night like clockwork your little buzzing friend would find the tingling mound between your legs, slipping in and out seamlessly like always, making you cum within a few minutes. That was until tonight, maybe you should have expected it. 21 days in a row of usage, the batteries were sure to go flat at some point, you just didn’t think it would be so soon. Placing it into the draw of the bedside table you go back to the constant pacing feeling in your mind as you attempted to sleep. The watching feeling was back, the hairs on your arms standing up, the feeling of the familiar prickling at the back of your neck as if something dangerous was approaching from the shadows. But sleep finally took you, once again.
The sound of knuckles tapping against the wood of the door early every morning tore you from your sleep, a much needed sleep. The curtains being torn open and the light hitting your face remind you of where you are almost immediately, at least this time with the maids in your room you knew who was watching you. ‘Breakfast is ready’ she says as she leaves the room as promptly as she arrived, off to wake another of the Saltburn family without a doubt. Crawling out of bed in your white night dress, you throw on a matching robe over the top, fumbling your slippers on, briefly checking your reflection in the full length mirror mounted to the wall across from your bed before wandering down the long halls to the breakfast table. Taking your usual seat you notice no one else has awoken yet, your tired eyes settling on the food in front of you, you almost fall asleep sitting up eating. The exhaustion of the last few days finally catching up with you. ‘You looked frustrated last night’ a low voice utters quietly a few seats across from you, the low muttering making you jump out of your skin with shock.
‘Excuse me?’ You question, a puzzled look on your face which could have been mistaken for anger, your words coming out harsher than you expected. You see the man across from you almost retreat into himself, he’d barely uttered a word to you in the last 21 days and now this? Your mind immediately flashing back to your frustration at your vibrator unceremoniously dying on you, surely that isn’t what he refers to tho.. right? ‘Oh Oliver, I’m sorry, I’m so tired that came out poorly. what do you mean?’ You question, making Oliver un tense slightly.
‘I saw you looking for something last night’ he begins. ‘Anything I can help with?’ He questions.
‘Oh, That. I was just trying to get a better lay of the land. Every time i visit I swear this place is rearranged, it’s like a new house every time.’ You reply.
‘Sure, that must have been it’ he replies, no follow up, nothing. Although it was more of a conversation than you’d managed with him this whole time, you expected maybe something else would have come from this. He could have offered to help you, anything. Although you hadn’t spoken that much you’d find it hard to argue that you hadn’t developed a little crush on him, his dark hair in contrast with his piercing blue eyes, surely that would make any girl swoon.
Just as you finally thought of something to say, the thought of offering him an invitation to explore the mansion with you to further expand your map, the rest of the family arrived, keen to discuss plans for the day. Your hopes of getting to know Oliver better shattered once again.
You continued your day like normal, a dip in the pool, a little bit of reading, another trip to a random room to expand the map and eventually dinner and straight to bed.
Once again you were kept up, tonight you indulged in wine a little bit more than usual, the knowledge of the lack of batteries to fuel your only release weighing heavy on your mind.
Crawling into bed you listen to the creaking of the wooden floorboards in the hallway, the sound of the old house almost swaying in the breeze as if that were possible. You try to ignore the familiar ache between your thighs as you long for sleep subtly grinding against the palm of your hand as you crave the release you know you can’t have. The feeling growing stronger and your movements becoming more unsubtle as you move the covers off of you, the fabric of your night dress pooling up around your hips as you grind, longing for that familiar feeling. ‘Ugh, fuck sake’ you groan, it’s of no use. You roll over frustratedly, your face buried in pillows as you let out a silent scream. That’s when you hear it, the floorboards creaking, the sound too loud to be from the hallway and it wasn’t just creaking this time, footsteps. But it couldn’t be, you’d locked the door to your room, the only other way in was through the window which you had ensured was locked.
‘Hello?’ You ask tentatively, sitting bolt upright in bed at this point. You weren’t sure if you prayed for an answer or not, at least if there were an answer you’d know for certain that you weren’t alone. But no answer came.
2:41am, you’d checked the clock at least 20 times by now every time you had almost drifted to sleep another creak on the floorboards would tare you from your dreams. It sounded almost as if they were getting closer, they’d began earlier by your mirror and by now they were approaching the head of the bed. Sometimes you even thought you could feel something touching you, lightly re arranging the way your hair fell on the pillow, or something lightly tugging at the blanket that covered your body. But this time you felt it for sure.
The weight on the bed shifted, while you lay in the middle, the bed dipped on the side, the unmistakeable feeling of someone sitting at the side of the bed. Another second and you felt it, a hand on your ankle wrapped tight. Terrified you sit, unable to move. You never imagined this is how you’d be in this position, you’d scream and fight when you’d imagined this scenario previously but you were wrong, so wrong. You lay there silently, only when you felt the grip on your ankle tighten did you even let on that you were awake as you were harshly dragged down the bed, now splayed out in the middle. Before you could scream a hand smacks over your mouth with a slap, silencing any sound that could have come out of you.
‘What were you thinking about?’ A voice in the dark asks, an accent of some sort laced in his words surely belonging to the owner of the strong hands currently pinning you against the bed. ‘Who were you thinking about?’ The voice continues, more demanding this time as the accent becomes clearer, Oliver? Surely not. The sweet, quiet man who sits across from you silenced by his own nervousness every breakfast, it can’t be him. You try to answer, your words muffled by the hand over your mouth, although you’re sure it would be less of an answer and more of a demanding to get out of your room.
‘Was it me? Tell me it was me.’ He demands, his hand dropping from your mouth to your throat, wrapped around tightly grasping at the column of your neck.
‘I-I Uhm’ your reply coming out as nonsense. He was right, you had been thinking of him. You’d seen his physique while sunbathing, sneaking a glance when you believed no one would notice. But now with his hand wrapped around your neck and his body pressing into yours your mind was blank.
‘Answer me’ he demands, hand tightening as his face grows ever closer to yours. At this distance you swear you can almost see the moonlight shining through the window reflecting off of his blue eyes, glimmering at you.
‘You.. it was you’ you stutter out quietly, your words shocking even you as they come out breathy and quiet.
‘What a good girl you’ve been for me’ he says, his grip loosening on your throat as he glides his index finger down your cheek.
‘Bu-but how did you.. where.. what’ you question, a full sentence becoming too much for your brain to handle, but the man on top of you seems to have gotten the gist of your line of questioning.
‘I’ve been watching you’ he replies. ‘You and your little map. Wandering around like you own the place’ his words laced with venom. ‘I’ll admit you did make it harder for me. You thought you were so smart checking everywhere, you never bothered to check within your own room’. He continues as your eyes fight with the dark, darting around every corner of the room. That’s when you spot it, the light reflecting off of the mirror slightly wrong, it was almost as if the glass was rippling, the reflection always seeming a little off, it was a two way mirror. From the spot where it was mounted on the wall, you realised that it was pushed slightly further than usual, the story all making sense in your mind suddenly. You hadn’t been imaging things, you had heard footsteps inside the room, someone was watching you, Oliver.
‘Our rooms share a serving corridor as these old houses do sometimes’ he says as if it was an obvious fact, something everyone would know. He could see a million questions whirling behind your eyes, snapping you out of your thoughts as his soft fingers against your cheek suddenly turn into a slap, grasping your face turning your lips into a pout. ‘Now, I know what you do to sleep and I took the liberty of removing the batteries from your useless little toy there’ he sneers at you, you can almost feel his smirk against your lips as he comes in closer. This was nothing like the man you had vaguely come to know over the last few weeks, he was mean, cruel even and you knew it wouldn’t be long until you admitted that you liked it, you loved this version of Oliver. ‘I thought, just maybe if you’d get impatient enough you’d come to me yourself. But the little miss never came’ he continues, finding himself amusing at his own pun. ‘So I came to you’ putting extra emphasis on his words to make a point as to almost poke at you. ‘Now, I can either leave and go back to my room or I can help you with your predicament. Would you like that?’ He questions, still holding your face in his hands ensuring you look straight into his eyes as your head nods, partially guided by Oliver’s hand moving your face for you. ‘Good girl’ he places a light peck onto your lips. ‘The former was never really an option anyway, did you really think I could leave all this now that I have you here?’ His question sounding more like a statement, he didn’t care about your answer, he decided you belonged to him the moment he stepped into the room. His hand slips from your face, grasping your throat once more before climbing further onto the bed, throwing the covers off of you and pushing your night dress up.
He sighs, the view of you almost making him cum on the spot. Oliver never imagined he’d actually do it, sure he’d thought of the thousand ways he could take you, he wanted to bend you over and fuck your brains out over the breakfast table every morning for the last month and now, in this single sigh he released a months worth of frustration. His desperate hands kneading at the supple flesh of your thighs, roaming up to where he was at his most desperate for you. The moment the pad of his thumb pressed against your clit a jolt of electricity raced through your body, moving you with a shocked flinch against the bed. His eyes bore into yours as if almost warning you to stay still, a warning you would absolutely heed. His eyes transfixed on yours as his thumb swirled around your sensitive nub, gathering slick from your entrance just to return to your clit, your climax building from the moment he touched you. You were almost there, your peak was in sight you could feel it building when he tore his hand from you. A smirk pressed against his lips as he bent down to kiss you, he was proud, he ruined your orgasm and he was proud of it. Just as you settled into the lack of his touch, his lips hovering against yours he plunged his fingers into you, without warning a loud gasp leaving your lips. You knew you’d fucked up the moment the sound left your mouth, his fingers being pulled from you once more.
‘Good girls stay quiet, do you understand me? We wouldn’t want the rest of them finding out how much of a whore you are now would we?’ He sneers, your heart rate increasing as you nod your head again. ‘Such a good girl for me. I’ll make sure to reward you, just stay quiet for me’ he continues, his words softer this time as his fingers return to your warm, wet entrance.
It was harder to stay quiet than you expected. His pace was relentless and now as he kissed down your body, your night dress torn from you and the remaining scrap of fabric now discarded to the floor, the want to moan for him was overwhelming. This was only made worse when his lips wrapped around your sensitive mound. His tongue and fingers moving at the same time, sucking on your most sensitive parts like a man starved. He was desperate for you and now, you were for him. You couldn’t resist it and he could tell, your climax was imminent as you rocked your hips against his mouth. From watching you he knew that you covered your mouth with your hand or bit down onto your fist when you came in an attempt to muffle the sounds. To compensate for this, at the moment your shaking orgasm rippled through your body he shoved his fingers into your mouth, the taste of your own juices heavy on your tongue as he suckled and licked you through your peak, his eyes still fixed on yours.
You thought that was it, he said he wanted to help you and he had, you’d half expected him to leave when he tore his own shirt over his head, pushing his boxers down his thighs as he pushes your legs further open with the weight of his own body. With one hand next to your head and his other white knuckle grasping his cock he glided his length through the slick of your pussy. His lustful gaze had left yours now, favouring watching his tip spread you wide for him. Just as your eyes left his face to watch the sight between your legs you were interrupted. ‘Look at me’ he demands ‘I want to see the look on your face when I split you open’ his words being of continuous shock to you, where had your quiet kind man gone?
Although you’d hate to say he was correct, he was. Even with your drenched hole and your legs spread wide for him the burn as he entered you was real. He was unbelievably thick and long, his length impaling you again and again as he begins thrusting into you relentlessly. He was as desperate for release as you were, maybe you should have known, your sweet man in his full right mind would surely never break into your room and do this to you if he wasn’t desperate you reassured yourself. This can’t be the real him after all, it had to be an act.
These thoughts stayed with you for merely seconds as your eyes rejoined his as they flutter open, your mouth hanging open in a silent moan just like his. As if you could both feel the sound about to release your lips came crashing together, muffling the sound of your joint moans as his tongue slips into your month. It was a dirty, sinful act and you loved every second of it. You’d never felt this desperate for anyone in your life. You wanted him to cum inside you, breed you and make you his.
‘Once I cum inside you, you’re mine. Do you understand? I fucking own you’ he says, making you question if he has a future in a career in mind reading. He doesn’t wait for an answer taking the feeling of your walls tightening around his length as the only reply he would ever need again.
His pace quickens his body pressed against yours as his hand clasps over your mouth silencing you, your head held still as he glares into your eyes. You can feel it, his climax nearing, his thrusts becoming sloppier and more erratic as he breaks his own rule, groaning loudly into your kiss as he cums within you, his liquid filling you to the brim. The sound reverberates against the walls, someone must have heard that you think as he continues to fill you up. Just as you think he’d stopped, almost possessively he begins to move again. The feeling overwhelming both of your senses as he fucks his cum further into you before pulling out and repeating the same process with his fingers, watching a little bit trickle out before pushing it back inside you once more.
‘You’ll keep this inside you, you understand? You don’t get to clean yourself up’ he demands. ‘You’ll be a good girl for me tomorrow, at 10pm sharp you’ll get into the bath across the hall and wait for me. Got it?’ His demands continue as he places one last harsh kiss onto your lips, your eyes flickering closed for only a second, re opening when your kiss has parted. Just like that he was gone. His clothes, every part of him had left you almost without a trace. Your night dress torn on the floor you ponder how you’ll explain that to the maids in the morning as they’ll have to fix it. You cover yourself with the blanket again, your head pressed against the pillow as you finally go to sleep, the best you’ve slept in 21 days.
Part 2
Message to be added to the tag list! - current tag list: @idontevenknow1359
#oliver quick#oliver quick smut#barry keoghan#salt burn#saltburn#barry keoghan smut#druig x female reader#druig x y/n#druig smut#druig x reader#druig imagine#druig fanfiction#Barry keogan x reader#saltburn smut#saltburn fanfiction#michael gavey smut#oliver quick fanfic#felix catton#jacob elordi#farleigh start
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ִֶָ yours to keep ↪ part three of mafia boss sukuna.
⋆ fluff ‹3, mention of pregnancy symptoms, reader has hyperemesis gravidarum ( heavy morning sickness, dehydration and dizziness ). this part is basically a collection of pieces ( drabbles ) from Sukuna and reader’s relationship. i can't possibly write a long fic sjdhhdh help.
I'm considering finishing the au here 🙆♀️ but do let me know in the comments if you think Sukuna is girl or boy's dad ^^
saying your first encounter was a coincidence is a fact, saying the ones that came after were under the same circumstances, it's nothing but a lie.
the gifts didn’t stop, nor the secret rendezvous with Sukuna’s bribing either the employees or bosses of each establishment you went to, although the man was more than eager to show off the world you’re with him now, he had to be cautious in case your daddy wished to stir some drama and forbid you to meet up with the pink haired. to Sukuna, your only daddy should be himself.
the bouquets of multiple flowers remained the same, —although most were yellow pansies. but a fresh set was always placed on your bedside table, still holding tightly onto Sukuna’s scent in each petal.
I’ll send a driver for you.
is what Sukuna had texted you that day, and in other situations you could have been thrilled, jumping around to find a suiting outfit for the occasion, although most of them ended up on his bedroom floor.
not today, i’m not feeling well.
you replied, and perhaps, you actually believed you’ll have a free day, well, for Sukuna that was text read as “please come and heal me”
I’m outside.
luckily your father was barely at home, so sneaking out was not an issue, only greeted by your bodyguard’s subtle nod, knowing better than to mess with your no-yet-boyfriend.
“what’s wrong, princess?” is the first thing Sukuna asks, a worried look on his face, one that no one besides you have seen on his usual cold facade, although his voice and hands are warm, gently tilting your chin to meet the red of his irises. “shall I call a doctor?” he suggests, arm around your waist to guide you into the black tinted car.
you shake your head, propping it on Sukuna’s broad shoulder, “it’s fine, probably something I ate” you mumble, eyelashes fluttering close at the sensation of your lover’s hand sliding down your back and settling on your belly, followed by a kiss on your forehead, “will feel better soon”
the car’s movements are enough to lull you to sleep, briefly hearing Sukuna humming against your hair, not quite content with that reply, but it will do for now.
A rebellion or loss of a very fruitful drug selling zone in the city could have made Sukuna worry, or at least that’s what his guards could have said, although none of those have happened and neither have any of his men seen the pink haired in such distress, pacing around the large, luxury filled room while his trust worthy doctor checked on you.
why did you lie? why did you say you’ll feel better when you haven’t? but he can’t get mad at you, not when you look so fragile and soft, laying under his expensive silk sheets.
“Sukuna, please stop, I told you i’m fine!” you half chuckle, heart warming at the sight of him all worried, head snapping back to meet your gaze with a scowl.
“you are not fine,” he huffs, sliding a hand through his face and slicking his hair back in a nervous manner you’ve come to notice. then a second later he’s crawling next to you, holding your hand tightly, shifting between you and the doctor drawing a bit of blood from your stretched out arm, by the look in his eyes you knew he was about to snap and tell the doctor to hurry up.
“it’s just a little dizziness,” you shrug.
and he groans, “...be quiet”
“when do you want to get married?”
you gasp, muffled words due to Sukuna’s arms around your head, keeping you against his half buttoned black shirt covered chest, “what?”
a low rumble under your cheek proves Sukuna laughed, deep and melodic, “you’re carrying my babies, of course you’ll marry me” he murmurs, more than a suggestion is a fact, one that you’re not truly against. as soon as the results were in, your now self called fiance sported the widest grin you’ve ever seen, a spark that wasn’t there before shining brightly on those eyes you’ve come to adore, “unless you don’t want to...” he trails off, mockingly hurt.
“i do...” you mumble back, gripping on the back of his shirt, “it’s just that... it won’t be easy” of course it won’t, not with your dad.
during the time you’ve met Sukuna, one thing was always permanent, and it was that cocky, self confident smirk of his, plastered on his face even though the situation didn’t require, it didn’t falter in the slightest, not even at the sight of your father grabbing a very expensive vase and tossing it in Sukuna’s direction, luckily the pink haired man easily dodged it, and the sound of broken ceramic echoed in the back.
“dad!” you yelp, placing yourself between your lover and your progenitor, “stop it!”
truly you knew it was a terrible idea, the suggestion of talking with your father on your own was not even considered by the pink haired, barely a week after your pregnancy discovery and he was more than eager to share the news, diamond ring shining on your finger, one that Sukuna promised to replace by a real engagement ring after settling things up, he, of course, didn’t mention the fact that said ring was hidden at the back of his closet.
“anyone! it could have been anyone in the world but you chose him?” your father yells, hurt dripping from his voice with a short stumble back, “what did I do to deserve this?”
you really considered that him and Sukuna would be wonderful friends, considering their love to exaggerate and play the victim’s role. “and he even got you pregnant!” he sobs loudly, face hidden behind his ring covered hands.
a quiet huff can be heard from your back, where your boyfriend stands.
“i love her,” Sukuna speaks, not before rising his brow and eyes rolling at the pointed look you gave him, “this doesn’t mean we’ll make peace, but I love your daughter, and i’ll marry her whether you like it or not.”
wondering what were the odds of two people dying at the same time, in the same spot, due to your father’s face going paler and his men having to hold him back to stop a murder attempt on Sukuna.
much against his good will, his princess deserved to be happy, even if it was with the devil himself.
Sukuna is not a man to regret his actions, following the ideal of “whatever, it’s done now” although now, his whole resolve is crumbling.
was it really a good idea to get you pregnant? the idea crossed his mind, guilt tugging on his chest as he knelt besides you, gently rubbing your back and holding your hair as you threw up for the fifth time, swallowing the urge to apologize for the nth time, he gently guides you up to wash your teeth and back to bed, his chest working as a pillow under your tired body, barely six weeks in.
“i’m sorry,” he finally speaks, tenderly rubbing your back, helping you ease the ache and nausea that crawled up your throat, “this is my fault” voice filled with concern and rage towards himself.
you barely shake your head, nuzzling on his toned chest, “t’s not your fault” you croak, “i’ll get better soon, just two or three months left”
yet the attempt to calm Sukuna’s racing heart and mind was not enough, the guilt still crawling up his chest and setting in his throat, fighting back the urge to let out a broken sound.
“i love you” he mutters instead, resting his cheek on the top of your head, hand rubbing your waist softly, “my strong, brave angel, after the baby is born i’ll give you the best wedding you could ask for” it’s a soft sigh, “... but we won’t have more babies”
you chuckle, wholeheartedly, weird how watching his beloved go through such discomfort can erase the breeding kink from someone.
🔖♡ @yuujispinkhair @valleydoli @hyeinwluv85s @sadmonke @ryomance @inzanekillian @emilymikado @r-ryuko09 @ichorstainedskin @tadabzzzbee @acidrefiux
#𐔌᭥ᩙ༉#sukuna ryomen x reader#sukuna x reader#jjk sukuna#sukuna#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jjk#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#sukuna fluff#sukuna x reader fluff
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We move forward, 'cause we can't go back...
It's the EIGHTH anniversary of Handplates, and the first one after I finished the comic back in July! I decided to dig up a very old wip that I never finished and finally do it. I've always loved WeMoveForward by The Midnight, and I think it applies not only to the comic itself but also this period after it... there's no way to go back to when I was doing it, only moving forward after it's done.
Even more appropriately, since I did this wip, these characters all moved forward even further... even as this sat in my files, they moved forward, in a sense. I don't know, the song gives me a sort of plaintive, longing, bittersweet feeling... it's hard to explain.
I had a very insistent voice in my head that always made me do a Handplates page over the years I was working on it, no matter what happened. I wasn't sure if that voice would ever stop, even when it's done, but it has! It's gotten quieter now, mostly only nagging me about other projects I should be working on (Defrag, the Ace Attorney/Frozen fic, web design, fic ideas, art ideas...) whenever I'm doing something, much like it did before I started the comic.
How I feel about Handplates finishing though is strange. At times it doesn't feel like it's over, even if I don't feel like I need to do another page. At other times I get sad thinking about it and I miss it, and other times I look back on it with amazement that I was able to do it. Sometimes I look back on it and think about what was happening in my life at that time, and sometimes when I look at it it's unreal and it's hard to believe I even did it, like someone else did the whole thing. It's like it's there but it's not, it's present but it isn't. It's a very strange feeling, it's hard to describe or pin down. I know it'll always be with me in some way, but it is strange to be able to focus so much attention on other things without that feeling of having to set aside a few days to do a page every two weeks... not bad or anything, but I'm not used to it still.
I don't know! When I read the comments on the last page a lot of them made me cry, especially those talking about how the comic had been their childhood, and now their childhood is over. It was sad to think that I had a part in something like that ending... but it ends for everyone, no matter what you do. We, you and me, everyone... we move forward, 'cause we can't go back. That line was so evocative for me that I even used it as a chapter title for the penultimate chapter on Comicfury.
I don't know, just nostalgic thoughts! I don't know if that's the right word for it... but thank you to all of you who read it and enjoyed it. Even now I hear from new people coming to it and reading through it again now that it's done. Even if it's finished, it's still new to people just finding it. It's still "living" in a sense. And thanks to those of you who stuck around even though it's done, I appreciate it. |D
(As a note, the Gaster ukagaka has a surprise if you boot him on the anniversary after seeing the brothers, if you haven't done that)
[index] [patreon]
#undertale#handplates#asgore#gaster#sans#papyrus#asriel#z art#man i like never draw asriel#i always feel guilty when i move on to something different than what brought people to me#but my interests never really die they just fall asleep for a little while#they always come back eventually
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Sequel to Good People - The fic in wherein Wayne doesn't like Steve and overheard a conversation he shouldn't have. Here's the aftermath of that :3
Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part
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Wayne had stayed in his bedroom long after he heard the boys leave. Eddie had knocked on his door to let him know he'd be staying at Steve's and to not expect him back until late tomorrow, a courtesy he'd never shown until after he'd been the victim of a manhunt back in spring. Wayne never asked him to do that but he thinks Eddie picked up on how worried Wayne would get if he were gone for any amount of time.
Eddie's always been good at reading people when he bothers to pay attention to them. Maybe that should have been enough reason for him to give pause to his dislike of the Harrington boy, instead of needing to overhear the boy crying about how he thinks there's something rotten deep within him that only Wayne can sense.
He'd been so sure he knew what kind of person Steve Harrington was. Eddie had been hung up on boys just like him pert-near his whole life, Wayne thinks, and it's never ended differently.
It's a Tuesday night and his friends usually gather at the bar on Friday nights, but Wayne needs to get out of the trailer to think. A beer might help. So, he grabs his keys and heads out.
He's been a regular at this bar since before he was even old enough to drink. Used to come with his pa, may he rest in peace, just to get out of the house. He's been a patron longer than any of the staff have worked there, he realizes.
"Hello Linda," Wayne greets as he takes a seat at the bar instead of at his usual table. He'd done a cursory glace when he came in and confirmed none of his drinking buddies were in before choosing the bar.
"This isn't your usual day," Linda says, leaning a hip on the counter, "but it's always a pleasure to see you."
"I got some thinkin' to do," Wayne replies and Linda nods and moves away, returning soon with a bottle of his usual beer. She picks up the bottle open and removes the cap before setting the drink down in front of him.
"Need a sounding board, hun?" She asks.
Wayne does a quick survey of the bar again but it's pretty quiet so he returns his gave to Linda and says, "if you wouldn't mind too much hearin' about how an old man might have messed up."
Linda laughs. "You aren't even half a decade older than me, so you best not be sprouting that 'old man' nonsense around me, 'cause I am not some old lady."
"Terribly sorry, Linda. I'm just really feelin' like an old fool."
A small frown comes to Linda's face then. "Now what could you have possibly done?"
"Well, I guess I'm tryin' to figure out if I did mess up. Eddie's got a friend and I don't trust 'im. Thought I had good reason not to, but, well, I overheard somethin' I wasn't supposed ta and now I'm not sure."
Linda hums, "hmm, that doesn't sound like you, judging someone unrightly. You are usually a good read about people."
"I'll admit, I haven't bothered to spend enough time with the boy to, uhh, judge him."
"Wayne Munson," Linda scolds, "you best not be telling me you judged that boy because of other people."
Judging by Linda's raising brow line, he thinks his guilt must be clear on his face. "You know Eddie, and how people have treated him. And with what he just went through- I just want 'im safe. Sure, his new friend graduated last year, but he was on the basketball team his whole career. And I'm jus' supposed ta believe this one boy didn't side with the group who started the manhunt?"
"Unless you've got evidence otherwise, yes," Linda says, brows furrowed.
Wayne sighs. "I ain't got proof. I got a lot of people sayin' he's good, actually. But it's the Harrington boy. The same boy Eddie would come home and complain 'bout. Harrington, Hagan, Hargrove, though I shouldn't speak ill of the dead. All them boys treatin' Eddie like he wasn't worth nothin' until they wanted somethin' form him."
Linda's mouth is almost a perfectly straight line with how much she's pursed her lips the more he talks, but she doesn't interrupt and no customer calls for her, so he continues.
"And you know what Richard Harrington was like. I know y'all only shared one school year together, but Janice wasn't any better, and she was your year, wasn't she?" Linda gives him one nod in response. "That boy's a product of them. I- You can't fault me for thinkin' differently."
"So, when do you expect Eddie to end up in prison?"
The question throws Wayne and fills him with anger at the same time. "Now, Linda, I ain't likin' what you are implyin'."
"I ain't implyin' nothing," she says, using the same tone with him that he did with her. "I'm applying your logic. Eddie's a product of his parents, ain't he? Al's in prison, and his mama's long gone, bless her soul. And since Eddie ain't sick, last I heard, he must be following after his daddy."
The anger leaves him then, and all he's left with is shame. "Point made. And if I'm bein' fully honest with ya, I don't even need ya to defend that boy. That thing I overheard. That what's eatin' at me. He called me good people."
Linda softens, shoulders dropping, "you are good people, hun."
"That boy told my Eddie that I'm 'good people', and that his parents are bad ones, and I. I don't know what to do about that."
"He thinks his own parents are bad?"
Wayne nods, "is what he said. Thinks I can somehow sense he's also rotten just by association."
"There's nothing to it, then," Linda says, like they've already talked out the tangled mess that is Wayne's thoughts on Steve Harrington and have reached a conclusion. Well, perhaps Linda already has. She's always been bright, and she's usually right. "You, Wayne Robert Munson, need to apologize to that boy. The guilt and shame's gonna put you into your cups otherwise."
Wayne nods slowly, though he isn't even sure if he agrees or is just acknowledging what she said before he takes a long pull from his bottle before lowering both his arms to rest on the counter as he replies, "You're right as usual, Linda my dear. I just gotta let go of the fact he's Richard Harrington's son and try and see just Steve."
"Damn right. Eddie might be Al's by birth, but you raised him and he turned out alright. Maybe Steve got the same treatment. Had his own Wayne around to raise him right."
There might be a bit of truth to that. He's heard enough talk about Steve Harrington over the years to think that. One of his drinking buddies used to be Jim Hopper. He's heard about the amount of parties he'd had to go shut down at the Harrington's house, with no parents to be seen. (Always Jim's biggest gripe back then. "Where's this kids goddamn parents!?) Wayne always assumed their kid just took advantage every time his parents were gone, but maybe it's the opposite. Maybe they were always gone, and Steve had parties to not be alone in his house.
Linda's right. There is nothing to it. He needs to talk to Steve, properly apologize, and go from there.
"It ain't an easy thing, admittin' you might be wrong," Wayne sighs.
Linda reaches across the counter and places a hand on Wayne's arm just below his wrist. Wayne looks up from where he'd ended up staring at his bottle, making eye contact with her. "If your boy is friends with this boy, it's for a reason. Just give him a chance. You are one of the good ones, but even we can have a lapse in judgment now and then. Doesn't make you bad, makes you human."
"Ain't no one perfect but the good Lord," Wayne says and Linda nods in agreement.
"Alright. I'll leave you to your beer and your thoughts for now, but you best keep me updated on your situation. I wanna know how it goes," Linda retracts her hand and heads down the counter to check on the few other people sitting about nursing drinks.
Wayne sits in his thoughts more than he drinks, so by the time he's done with the beer it's warm but that's fine. He will talk to the Harrington kid, but he wants to talk to Eddie first. He owes his nephew that much, and he does recall Eddie saying something to the effect of 'he'll come around' to Steve, and Wayne wants to tell Eddie he'll try.
Also he doesn't want to just corner the boy after he's been somewhat intimidating intentionally. He's going to get Eddie to ask if Steve'll talk to him.
True to his word, Eddie returns home late the next day. The clock says it's almost 6 when Eddie finally comes through the front door. If he's surprised to see Wayne awake, he doesn't show it. He does work the graveyard shift, and he's got a shift at 10 tonight, usually wakes up two hours before his shift. He'd wanted to make sure he caught Eddie, though, so he's been up since three.
"Eddie, you got a minute?" Wayne says.
"Sure. What's up?" Eddie says as he pulls off his jacket, depositing it on the nearest surface before plopping sideways on the couch so he's facing Wayne.
"I gotta come clean. I overheard some of what you and Steve were talkin' about," Wayne says, because he's a man of his word and he's always been good at doing the hard thing if it also turns out to be the right thing. He's got to be honest with Eddie, so he can be honest with himself. "Heard Harr- Steve talkin' 'bout how he thinks I'm a good person, and his parents aren't."
Eddie's quiet for a moment, blinking owlishly back at him while he thinks. "Oh. Umm. Sorry. I just- I think this is the first time I've heard you say Steve's name."
"Not the part I thought you'd focus on," Wayne huffs a laugh, "but I owe your boy an apology and I was hopin' you could help me make it happen."
"My boy- what is happening," Eddie drops his voice to whisper the question to himself.
"What's happening is I'm doin' the thing I always told you ta do. Taking accountability and fixin' my mistake."
"Oh. Oh!" Eddie narrows his eyes at Wayne, "you've made an ass out of me. All those times I assured Steve you were just being standoffish and you were- what were you doing?"
"Intentionally keepin' the boy at a distance 'cause I thought he was gonna hurt you. I sure as hell ain't been friendly. I been judging him because I knew his parents, thinkin' about how an apple don't fall far from the tree," Wayne stops, giving pause to see if Eddie will speak but he isn't. He's just staring at Wayne like he's a puzzle. "It was brought to my attention that it's mighty unfair to judge someone 'cause of how their parents act."
Eddie's brow furrows and his lips purse. It makes him think of Linda. She'd made the exact same face. "I- Jesus fuck this is weird, but I. I think I'm mad at you. Disappointed."
Eddie doesn't say it with an angry tone, and his face still looks more puzzled than mad, but the sentence feels like a kick to the chest anyway. Eddie and he have never been mad at each other, not in the eight years Eddie's lived here with him. They've been worried and scared for each other that, or mad at someone or something else that they take out on each other, but never mad at each other.
"You've every right to be."
Eddie stands from the couch, paces down the hallway, and Wayne thinks this might be the end of any conversation tonight, but instead Eddie comes storming back up the hall. "So, what, did you take me in expecting me to be my dad!?"
"No. He mighta contributed to your birth, but we both know that man ain't nurtured you a day in his life."
"Yeah, well, Steve's parents didn't raise him either, so all this has been bullshit! You made Steve think he's, he's broken and a bad person! And," Eddie's eyes are wet and he's angry but also about to cry. Wayne hasn't seen him like this in a long time. Not since the day they learned Al was in prison, fifteen years with a chance for parole if he's on his best behavior. Eddie had been so angry, and sad, and hurt by the news. Eddie's like that now, worked up so much he's repeating himself as he hiccups his words out around the lump in this throat, "And, and you made me help him feel that way! Because I didn't take him serious when he said, said you didn't like him! I thought you were being, being a dad, all fake gruff to intimidate the guy I like but it's- you were- FUCK!"
Wayne lets him yell. He deserves it, and Eddie needs it. Eddie's not saying anything untrue. He takes in what Eddie is yelling at him; Steve's parents didn't raise him, and how Wayne's cold shoulder must have added to whatever else Steve has going on in his life.
"I, I h-held him while he b-bawled into my shirt last night! He, he thinks- and you, you didn't even trust me! T-trust my own j-judgment of, of Steve! I, I need- I can't-" Eddie doesn't finish the sentence. He turns on his heel and storms back down the hall, the slamming of his door finalizing this conversation.
To say that Wayne feels terrible is inadequate. He's hurt his boy, and he's hurt his boy's boy, and he's got no one to blame but himself.
Now he's got two apologies to make.
I tried to tag as many people as I could remember that expressed interest in a follow up fic. I am SO sorry if I missed you. Please let me know if you want to be tagged in the final part. I will only be tagging people who ask to be tagged going forward 'cause it's a lot of people to remember and my memory is garbage.
@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss @unclewaynemunson @itsthestrangestthings @emofratboy @devondespresso @finntheehumaneater @loopholesinmydreams @yourmom-isgay @wrenisflying @emsgoodthinkin @messrs-weasley @madigoround @jackiemonroe5512 @gutterflower77 @zerokrox-blog @eriquin @samyuck @lunarmaruna @mugloversonly @kaij-basil-lionelli88
#steddie#my fic#wayne pov#wayne munson#eddie munson#honestly this didnt go the way i thought it would#so there will be a third and final part. Wayne's gonna make it right because he's a good uncle. A good dad.#SPOILER: steve doesnt even show up in this part so im not tagging him
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𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐆𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐀 𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞 - 𝐞.𝐦. (𝟏𝟖+)
older rockstar!eddie x fem!reader
part one | part two
summary eddie munson was a world famous rockstar. and, apparently, an asshole. but you weren't one to believe rumours, so when eddie asks to meet you, who are you to say no? (11.4k)
warnings age gap, reader is 22 and eddie is 40 (if this makes you uncomfortable please do not read! <3) smut, lots of smut. an overuse of nicknames (doll, angel, sweetheart, etc.), dom!eddie, choking, penetrative sex, oral sex f!receiving, fingering, slight overstimulation, reader cries once during sex but for good reasons! promise. minors shoo, i'll chase you away with a stick. don't make me do it. (if i've missed anything please let me know!)
This was a bad idea. You knew that.
You should go home.
But he was right there. And he was so pretty.
He had asked for you. He had picked you out of the crowd. And now you were in his hotel room.
You were so fucked.
.
.
.
You (and everyone who knew Eddie) knew that he did this all the time, it was practically an after-show ritual for him. Only on a very rare occasion did he go back to his hotel room by himself, or with the same person. It was always someone new, someone he had seen at the show, someone who caught his eye. And tonight that were you.
Okay, if you were going to be completely honest here, this might have been what you wanted all along. But you never thought it would actually happen, you weren’t that delusional. But you had spent a little longer on your appearance tonight, and you had worn that outfit that showed off all your best assets and made you feel really fucking hot.
And Eddie really needed to remember to thank you for that. Because once he saw you at the front of the crowd he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. In between songs he had walked over to the side of the stage, bending down so he could speak into the security guard's ear, and had told him the same thing he told him every night, accompanied with a point in your general direction.
So when the show was coming to an end, security walked over to you and said “When the show ends hang around okay? Eddie wants to see you.”
Oh.
Oh.
You just nodded and blurted out something like ‘Oh yeah, okay, yeah, I can do that, thank you-” honestly you don’t even remember what you said, because your heart was racing as you realised what was happening.
The security guard just rolled his eyes and strolled back to where he was originally standing. You figured he was probably tired of the reaction he got every time he had to tell Eddie’s latest crush to hang around after the show.
He did it every night, and honestly, he felt bad for every single one of them. It was the same each time: he would tell them, they would freak out, they would spend the night with Eddie, and the next day he would have to awkwardly escort them out of the hotel and tell them not to “take it personally doll, this is just what he does” Because Eddie wouldn’t even wake up early enough the next morning to say goodbye.
He was a dick. But people fucking loved it and loved him.
.
.
.
“You okay doll?” That recognisable voice pulled you out of your daydream and back to reality, although right now you weren’t entirely sure there was much of a difference between your daydreams and what was really happening.
Standing in Eddie Munson’s dressing room wasn’t exactly something you thought you would ever be doing.
After the show ended you stayed where you were, anxiously moving back and forth on your feet and looking around to see what exactly you were supposed to do next. Sure you had been told to ‘hang around’ but what did that mean? Were you supposed to stay where you were, walk over to a security guard and tell them Eddie had asked you to stick around? No, bad idea. They’d think you were a crazy stalker and would most likely escort you out of the venue.
You couldn't see the man who had come over to speak to you. Your eyes continued to scan the room, looking for anyone who seemed to be signalling for you to come over; and just as you were about to admit defeat and leave, that same man caught your eye and nodded his head to the side.
You hoped that was meant for you, or you were about to severely embarrass yourself.
But, everyone else still there seemed to be talking amongst themselves, paying no attention to the man who now stood, looking rather impatient, next to the stage. Gathering all the courage you could muster (which truthfully was not a lot but fuck it) you crossed your arms over your chest and walked over to him.
“Can you get over the barrier or do you need my help?”
“Wha- I’m sorry?” you questioned him with perhaps a little too much confusion in your voice, and based on the look on his face, you already knew he didn’t like you very much. Or maybe he was like this with everyone. He worked for Eddie Munson after all and based on everything you knew about him, you guessed that job probably took a toll on a person. He was notorious for being difficult to work with. He’s lucky he was so fucking hot.
“Are you serious… Jesus Christ okay- can you get over the barrier or do you need me to lift you over?” He started walking over to you, making a rather fair assumption that you were about to ask for some help.
“Oh um yeah, could you…” He was already lifting you over before you could finish your request ‘Thank you, sorry… I just… I���m not normally this nervous” awkwardly laughing as you placed your feet on the ground and adjusted your clothes.
“Yeah, you and everyone else who does this each night” He didn’t say it very loudly, probably not intending for you to actually hear him, but you did. It didn’t upset you, you knew what Eddie was like. But you were slightly embarrassed that his security was seemingly very aware of how your night was about to play out.
He didn’t speak much. Eddie’s security. You had tried to make polite conversation by asking his name, but he was too busy leading you to Eddie’s dressing room. It was cold backstage, and busy. Lots of people moving equipment and talking about the next show, you were pretty sure they worked for the Band. You noticed a few other girls standing around, probably waiting for the other members of the band. You knew that the others didn’t have as much of a reputation as Eddie, but you would have to be pretty naive to assume they weren’t doing almost the same thing. They were just more subtle about it.
“He’s in there” He stopped so abruptly that you were lucky you didn’t walk straight into the back of him. You looked up and saw that the door was closed, but his security was making no move to knock or open it for you. You thanked him and he just gave you a nod and walked away. Okay. Guess you’re knocking on the door yourself. Because that’s not terrifying.
But you were already here, and it would be far more awkward to try and find your way back so you took a deep breath and knocked three times on the door.
“Yeah come in” Eddie’s voice sounded from behind the door.
Oh shit, he’s really in there, you thought to yourself.
With one last shaky breath and shaking your hair out you grabbed the cold door handle and pushed the door open, peering around the door frame before you walked in. You could see Eddie, he was standing next to a high-up table and was clearly busy with something. But you couldn’t see anyone else, which was a small relief.
Pushing the door completely open you stepped into the room. You took your hand off the door, and you were not expecting it to shut as quickly or loudly as it did. The loud bang of the door caused Eddie to turn around slightly too fast to be casual, and his eyes darted straight behind you to the door and then instantly back to your face, looking straight at you. But he quickly regained his composure and let his eyes rake up and down you. Yeah, so Eddie Munson did not do subtle.
You were pretty sure Eddie just said something to you but you were too busy looking at him. No not looking, staring. Apparently, you didn’t do subtle either.
You knew Eddie was pretty. But in person, this closeup? It was ridiculous. He was annoyingly hot. His curly hair fell around his face, bangs resting just above his eyebrows, framing his face perfectly. Your eyes scanned down to his lips, parted slightly, and you couldn’t help but think about what they would feel like on your neck. But his eyes were what grabbed your attention the most, they were almost hypnotising and you definitely stared at them for an uncomfortable amount of time.
“You okay doll?” Eddie repeated his earlier question, not bothering to bite back the smirk that painted his face.
“Yeah, I’m… I’m good!” You did not mean for that to come out as enthusiastically as it did. “I mean um, I’m good thanks, are you? Okay?” If you didn’t get your shit together and start acting less like a fangirl in the next two seconds you were just going to escort yourself out.
Eddie laughed under his breath and leaned back against the wall behind him “Well aren’t you polite” You weren’t entirely sure what to say to that, so you just didn’t say anything. Instead choosing to remain standing by the door.
Eddie lifted his hand that was holding an unlit cigarette and placed it between his lips. And quickly removing it again, for some reason.
Oh god, now you were staring at his lips. And his hands. He had really pretty hands, with lots of rings on his fingers. Did he leave the rings on when he-
“Is staring a normal thing for you or am I just that attractive, sweetheart?”
Fuck. Rockstars were so damn cocky.
“That’s funny” You responded, you had no idea where that confidence suddenly came from, but something about the way he looked at you made you feel safe. “You know what?” You said as you walked over to the lone bar stool next to the table, sitting down and putting your hands under your thighs (you didn’t feel the need to question why there was only one chair in his dressing room).
“You’re already flirting with me and you don’t even know how old I am, what if I’m like… I don't know, seventeen?” You held back a smile as you saw Eddie tense up and then quickly relax again.
“Very clever, but not clever enough doll.” Jesus you wished he’d stop with the nicknames, it really wasn’t helping your whole ‘act casual’ plan. Eddie fiddled with the cigarette in between his fingers as he carried on speaking, “this venue doesn’t let anyone in under the age of twenty-one. So, unless you were using a fake ID I figured it was safe to assume you’re not, in fact, seventeen.”
You looked down at your feet that were dangling just above the floor, you weren’t using a fake ID. But you had in the past, he didn’t need to know that though. Although you couldn’t imagine he was one to judge someone for doing something illegal.
“Okay fine, so I’m not seventeen. You still don’t know how old I am though. You don’t even know my name, Eddie” You shot back, trying to sound serious, but the humour underneath your statement broke through. You also weren’t sure if you were on a first-name basis with him, but what else were you supposed to call him?
Eddie never broke eye contact with you the whole time you were speaking, but you couldn’t quite read what he was thinking.
“You wanna tell me your name then, sweetheart? Or am I supposed to guess that and your age? You wanna make me work for it huh?” Eddie put the cigarette down as he pushed himself off the wall and rested his forearms on the table, getting just that little bit closer to you.
“Normally yeah, I’d make a guy work for my name, but I suppose you’re special, right?” You said quietly, your confidence quickly slipping away the longer he looked at you.
“You’re gonna give me an ego, doll. No one’s ever called me special before, especially someone as pretty as you.” Eddie was a flirt, you knew that. He probably told every girl he has never seen someone as ‘pretty as they were’. But, still, it felt nice. You certainly didn’t believe that no one had ever called him special before. He was Eddie fucking Munson, for crying out loud.
“I’m Y/N.” You told him, purposefully not mentioning your age. You were over twenty-one but Eddie was… older.
He was almost double your age, actually.
“Pretty name. Matches the face.” Eddie flirted. He was insatiable already. “And you’re… how old exactly.” Eddie clearly noticed the look of worry that flashed because he quickly added “I know, I know. You should never ask a lady her age, and all that shit. But uh, help me out here”
“Okay um, I’m twenty-two.” Eddie didn’t react at all like he was waiting for you to say something else, but when you didn’t he just said “So that would make me old enough to be your dad, right?” he laughed.
“Whoa, well I wouldn’t say that. You’re forty. My dad’s in his fifties so…” Why did you just bring up your dad, to the man you were pretty sure you were about to sleep with? Smooth.
Eddie walked around so he was standing in front of you, resting a hand on your knee and using the other to push your hair off your face. “So you’re not uncomfortable, at all? Look, baby, I’m older, you’re still young, I wouldn’t want this to be some power-dynamic situation where you feel pressured, or fuckin’ whatever”
Shit. He wasn’t a complete asshole. At least not right now, he seemed genuinely concerned about you feeling safe. But with his hand on your knee, you weren’t sure how the fuck he expected you to focus.
“‘M not uncomfortable. I wouldn’t have come back here if I was” Eddie tilted his head slightly, looking for more confirmation. “I promise. ‘M not a child, Eddie”
“No, you’re definitely not… a child” You could tell he was trying really hard to keep his eyes on yours and not look other places right now. His hand that moved your hair came to rest on your cheek.
This close to him you could see the stubble on his face, and the freckles that painted his nose and under his eyes. His eyes were even more dangerous this close-up as well. You were pretty sure he would do anything he asked you to right now, and you’d only been with him five minutes.
Was he about to kiss you?
You were pretty sure he was about to kiss you.
You hadn’t even realised it but you had let your legs fall apart so he was now standing as close as he possibly could be, your legs dangling around his. He just kept looking at you, rubbing his thumb on your cheek, whilst his eyes moved back and forth from yours to your lips.
And just as you were about to lean forwards, your lips parting,
He walked away.
What the fuck?
“You smoke?”
“Wha- I’m sorry?”
Eddie had sauntered over to another table in the corner, it was covered in empty food containers, drinks, cigarettes and god knows what else. He grabbed the leather jacket that was thrown haphazardly across the edge of the table and threw it on, he still didn’t say anything as he walked back over to where you were sitting and picked up the cigarette he put down earlier, placing it behind his ear. You hated it, but there was something about him that made it impossible to not watch him. And he knew it, too.
“I said do you smoke?”
“No, s’bad for you”
“Fuck you’re not about to start lecturing me are you?” The immediate exhaustion in his voice was evident, and you wondered how many times a day he was told to stop smoking. “‘Cause I like you so far, don’t turn into an asshole now”
“No f’course not I just- you asked if I smoked, that’s all”
“Okay, good. Good that you aren’t about to fuckin’ lecture me and force me to tell you to fuck off,” Charming, as always. “and good that you don’t smoke. You’re too pretty for that shit.”
Only Eddie Munson could be an asshole and compliment you in the same sentence.
Eddie turned on his heel and headed for the door, as he opened it he turned around, clearly expecting to see you standing right behind him, but you hadn’t even moved from where you were sitting. “You comin'? Or are you just gonna sit there looking lost all night?”
You stood up without saying anything and expected him to just start walking again, instead he just shut the door again, leaning against it and drawled out “you know why I asked for you to hang around right?”
“Yeah, I’ve got a pretty good idea.” You weren’t entirely sure what his deal was. He was both exactly what people said he was but also not like that. He seemed… you weren’t sure. It wasn’t that he was unsure of himself, it definitely wasn’t that. But if you didn’t know he did this every damn night, you’d say he was trying to hold back his nerves.
Or maybe he just did this so much that it was starting to bore him.
“Okay. so?” He wasn’t even looking at you as he said it, instead choosing to stare at the ceiling.
“I don’t know what you’re asking me here, Eddie.” You whispered.
Eddie lowered his gaze to your eyes and stood up straight, no longer leaning against the door. “Can I fuck you, sweetheart? Do you want that?”
Oh fuck.
You nodded, certain that if you tried to articulate yourself you would find that words escaped you.
“Use your words for me, come on doll, need to hear you say it.” Eddie moved towards you a bit and picked up the pendant on the end of your necklace, flipping it over in his fingers as he waited for your answer, never once breaking eye contact.
“Yeah I- I want that. Want you to fuck me.” You blurted out.
A smile broke out on Eddie’s face as he dropped your necklace and turned around, opening the door and walking out “Come on then.”
You didn’t figure you were in a position to ask any questions, so you just followed him. Wherever he was going, he was going to fuck you once you got there, so you were happy either way.
What you didn’t know was that you had utterly confused Eddie.
You see, normally when Eddie invited someone backstage, it took them about two minutes before they were trying to jump his bones, kissing his neck and telling him how hot he was. It was easy like that, but you? You didn’t even try and touch him, which was… respectful. He wasn’t used to that. Not that he didn’t want you to touch him, he did. He had just never had to make the first move before, or straight up ask someone if they wanted him to fuck them.
But you did want him. He could tell. The way you couldn’t stop looking at him, even when he wasn’t even doing anything. The way your thighs rubbed together when he called you ‘doll’ or ‘sweetheart’. Or the way your breath hitched when he asked you if you wanted him to fuck you.
You were also really fucking pretty. He felt his heart race when you first walked into his dressing room. Sure, he had seen you in the audience and thought you were cute, but it was different when you were standing before him. But of course, he pushed all those thoughts away, You were a hookup, that’s all. That’s all he wanted. Maybe out of spite to himself, but he would never let anyone be more than that. And you weren’t going to be any different.
.
.
.
The drive to the hotel was pretty quick. Fifteen minutes at most. You had followed Eddie to a car that was waiting just outside one of the back entrances and he had even gone as far as to open the door for you. What a gentleman, maybe? You still could not figure him out.
Once Eddie was in the car, the driver set off. Neither of you said a word to the other. Instead, you sat in oddly comfortable silence. Letting the city lights and moonlight leak into the car as you were driven through the bustling metropolis.
Occasionally you’d look over at Eddie, and each time you did would find he was already looking at you. The first couple of times you looked away again, staring back out of the window at the starry night sky, looking at the constellations and trying to figure out what the fuck was happening. You were sitting in the back of a car with Eddie Munson. And he was taking you back to his hotel.
The third time you looked over at Eddie he was moving over to sit right next to you. You shifted slightly so you could look at him without having to twist your neck as far. “Hey” you murmured.
“You know normally by now, you would be sitting on my lap, whilst I feel you up under your clothes.”
“Oh, how romantic” You chirped back.
“What can I say, I’m a modern-day Romeo.”
“Can I say something?” You asked him, breaking eye contact, choosing to look down at your legs instead.
“Fucking hell- I- yeah sure.” His voice was laced with annoyance “You know they normally don’t talk this much either.” Eddie shot back at you.
“Okay well I was gonna say, you’re not as much of an asshole as people make you out to be. But then you kinda were an asshole, so, never mind.”
You looked back up at Eddie to see a grin on his face. “What?” You barked out.
Eddie held his hands up in mock surrender and only held back a laugh at your annoyance. “You love it, sweetheart. Or else you wouldn’t have agreed to meet me, let alone get in the car with me. And come back to my damn hotel room.” His voice dipped much lower than you had heard it all night, it was all smug and had an air of ‘I know I’m hot as fuck and so do you’ about it.
You swallowed and tried to look back out the window, anything to avoid looking right at Eddie. But he lifted his hand and turned your head back to him, once you were looking at him he lowered his hand from your cheek and let it rest on your jaw.
“Now, Can I please kiss you?”
Fucking finally.
You barely had time to nod before his soft lips landed on your own. Barely had time to think before the kiss turned heated, Eddie leaning his head one way and you leaning yours the other so you could be as close as possible.
Noses squished against each other and lips moulding together in perfect rhythm. It was like Eddie had lit a fire in you because you couldn’t get close enough to him. You lifted yourself up and swung your leg over Eddie’s lap, he quickly realised what you were doing and moved his hands to grab your hips, helping you settle on top of him, the whole time not once breaking the kiss.
Your hands went straight to Eddie’s hair and he moved from your hips to your back, letting them feel every part of you, until they eventually went to your hair, too. He took your bottom lip between his teeth and pulled back slightly, causing you to let out the smallest whimper.
He went straight back to making out with you, but you could feel his smirk against your mouth. As your lips moved together you started rocking your hips back and forth, slowly and experimentally.
But it was enough to cause Eddie to let out a groan, which only encouraged you even more, doubling down on your efforts to kiss him, pressing your lips deeper and harder against his, and he only returned the same energy, pushing himself forward and pulling you closer to him, letting his tongue run over your bottom lip, begging for entry.
You parted your lips instantly and he wasted no time letting his tongue meet yours. You tried to fight for some dominance in this situation but he quickly took control. His tongue in your mouth and one hand on the back of your neck, the other holding your hip to control your movements.
It was hot. And you were really fucking needy. You had almost forgotten that some poor driver was sitting directly in front of you, behind the separator. Probably trying to get to the hotel as fast as possible. You didn’t blame him.
You and Eddie were making out like if you didn’t you would die, and honestly, that was exactly what you felt like. Everywhere he touched you left you wanting more and more and more. His kiss ebbed and flowed through you, making you roll your hips against him even more.
His lips on yours left you convinced that you had died and gone to heaven. His tongue exploring your mouth made you feel like your heart was going to beat out of your chest. He knew what he was doing. Of course, he did.
Just as your hips grinding against him was getting erratic, the car stopped. And Eddie pulled away from you instantly. Both of you breathing heavily, you more than him, somehow. Did he have more oxygen in his body or something, what the fuck? You had both had your tongues down each other's throat, how did he seem slightly out of breath and you felt like you were fighting for air? Eddie patted his hands against your hips, signalling for you to get up and out of the car.
The door opened and you stepped out as smoothly as you could, which wasn’t easy when you were just being felt up by a rockstar in the back of the car, but you gave it your best shot. The late spring air caressed your face and you felt yourself relax for the first time all night; moving away from the car as Eddie said something to the driver you stepped onto the lawn in front of the hotel and felt the dew-dropped grass crunch under your shoes.
The hotel was big, fancy, you didn’t feel like you belonged there. You couldn’t even count how many stories high it was, the lit-up windows seemingly going for miles, hypnotising you as you stared up in awe.
Truthfully you were more shocked that the band’s management still let them stay in places as lavish as this, they were renowned for being… destructive. You had heard countless stories of Eddie and his bandmates going back to a hotel drunk or high (most of the time it was both) and destroying their rooms, disturbing the other guests and probably other things they had most likely paid the media not to leak.
Some said that Eddie and others had mellowed out recently, with Eddie turning forty. If you asked Eddie he would take offence to that, and say something precocious like he was “just getting started”. Whatever that meant.
You were pulled out of your thoughts by a hand coming to rest on your lower back, and you knew it was Eddie without having to turn around.
“Come on, I stay out here for too long we’ll be fuckin’ swarmed,” He told you.
“You get a lot of people waiting for you at hotels?” You already knew the answer, you had seen the insanity for yourself on TV. Hundreds of fans crowded the hotel hoping for a glance at the band.
“Yeah, somethin’ like that. They just want me to sign something so they can sell it. I don’t do that shit.” Eddie explained as his security hurried you both into the hotel.
His security led you through the lobby and joined you in the elevator. Which you were pretty sure was the most awkward two minutes of your life. You felt like a little kid being dragged home by her parents and they were too annoyed with you to even hold a conversation. Eddie didn’t seem to mind it though, leaning to the side and resting against the elevator wall, closing his eyes in exasperation when his security murmured something along the lines of “I’ll knock on your door at 9 tomorrow.” Eddie didn’t bother to respond or even show that he had heard him.
Soon the elevator stopped and his security stepped off. He turned around and gave you both a curt nod before letting out a sigh and walking off.
The elevator doors had barely shut, and it hadn’t even started moving again before Eddie was on you. Pushing you back against the wall of the elevator, his hands on your waist, a small sigh left your lips at the speed and energy of it. He dipped his head to your neck and let his lips explore everywhere. Your hands flew up to his hair to keep him pressed against you and when he found your sweet spot you couldn’t stop the moan that slipped out, and you felt Eddie’s mouth turn up into a smirk against your neck.
He was mouthing at your neck like he needed it to breathe, alternating between pressing kisses and sucking at your skin, letting his teeth graze your skin. Soothing the love-bitten skin by running his tongue over it once he was satisfied with his work. You already knew you would have to cover those with makeup for the next few days, or maybe you wouldn’t, letting everyone see Eddie’s mark on you, you hadn’t decided yet.
You were so lost in the feeling of Eddie that you hadn’t heard the sighs and whimpers you were letting out, but Eddie couldn’t miss them if he tried, he thought you sounded angelic.
“Fuck doll, barely even touched you and you’re making such pretty noises f’me” Eddie raised his head to look at you, his lips red and swollen. “Gonna let me see what other noises I can get you to make?” You let out a hum of agreement.
Eddie grabbed your face with one ring-clad hand, forcing you to look at him, and not at his lips (in your defence, you hadn’t even realised you were staring at his lips). “I asked you a question sweetheart.”
He leaned forward so his lips were grazing your ear as he spoke, “I said, are you gonna let me pull even more noises out of you? Answer me, come on pretty girl.”
“Yeah, yeah. Please Eddie I-” The elevator doors opened just as Eddie was laughing at the neediness in your voice.
Eddie’s eyes dipped down to your neck again and then back to yours, before grabbing your hand and dragging you behind him, walking at a considerable pace. He was just as desperate as you were, he was just much better at hiding it.
Eddie opened the door to his room and you had about five seconds to see that you were standing in a hallway, leading off to the multiple rooms. You let your eyes wander around the enormous suite before Eddie was turning around and kissed you, lips smashing desperately against each other. It was the type of kiss that took all the air out of your lungs, your hands grabbing blindly at his jacket, clinging to him like he was your lifeline.
You felt Eddie starting to lead you back and quickly your waist hit the small glass table that was next to the door. You reluctantly broke away from the kiss, turning your head to look down at the table that Eddie seemed to want you to sit on.
“It’s glass,” You said simply.
“Baby that table probably cost more than your rent. S’not gonna break.” Eddie let his hands wander underneath your top, drawing small shapes on your back whilst he waited for you to be where he wanted you.
“Telling me it costs more than my rent is not calming my nerves here!” You exclaimed,
“Would you get on the fucking table so I can eat you out”
Well, when you put it like that.
You placed your hands on either side of you on the table and Eddie lifted your waist to help you up. “Thank you” Eddie drew out the syllables as he spoke, and his voice was laced with sarcasm, you hit his shoulder. His lips turned up in a smile and he reconnected his lips to yours. The kiss was slower this time, but still desperate. Eddie stood between your legs and you were quick to wrap them around his waist, pulling him flush against you, letting him roll his hips against your centre and you moaned against his lips. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, exploring you as you let him take control.
Just as you were about to beg for more Eddie pulled away from your lips and dropped to his knees, placing your legs over his shoulders, dusting light kisses along your thighs. And it was only at that moment that your brain caught up with your body. Eddie Munson was between your thighs, and it felt so right. Your heart was racing and you felt goosebumps on your arms, but you felt so comfortable with him.
Oh shit. Do not fall for him.
This was a bad idea. You knew that.
You should go home.
But he was right there. And he was so pretty.
He had asked for you. He had picked you out of the crowd. And now you were in his hotel room.
You were so fucked.
“Hey, where’d you go?” Eddie ran his hand along your outer thigh, his other coming up to push his hair back off his face.
“I- shit, sorry, I’m okay. Promise” You tried to assure him. You really were okay, this was just a lot.
“We can stop. Or slow down. Jus’ tell me what you need me to do.”
You needed him to go back to being an asshole and make it easier to leave in the morning.
“Need you. Need you to touch me.” You breathed. Eddie bit back a smirk and gently pushed your skirt up around your hips, you felt your breathing speed up already, your legs spreading wider as his soft lips kissed lovebites onto your inside thigh, slowly moving closer to where you so desperately wanted him. He pulled back to admire the purple bruises he had sucked onto your skin, leaning forward again to press light kisses over them. “Eddie, please” your voice came out breathy and quiet, you barely even recognised it as your own.
“What’s wrong sweetheart? You wanted me to touch you, yeah? S’what I’m doin” Eddie was teasing you and you knew it, your fingers gripping the side of the table so firmly that your knuckles were going white.
“Need more.” Was all you could tell him, all of your focus being pulled to where his hands were running up and down your thighs again.
“Tell me doll, you gotta tell me where you need me or I can’t help you baby” you could tell how much he was enjoying your reactions just from the tone of his voice, he was trying to be serious and controlling but you could hear the smile in his voice.
You hummed out in protest and tried to move your hips closer to him, but as soon as he saw you trying to move his grip on your thighs got tighter, stopping you from moving.
“You gotta use your words for me angel or I’m gonna get bored here” Eddie slipped into the dominant persona so naturally that you couldn’t help the pang of guilt that rang through your body at the reminder that he did this with lots of people, you weren’t the first and definitely weren’t going to be the last. And you hated how that thought made you feel.
Not wanting Eddie to notice the way your face dropped for a split second you quickly pushed the thought away and felt the desperation build up again.
“Need your mouth, please- just please Eddie”
“Good girl” You felt heat rush to your cheeks at his words, Eddie noticed too, but he didn’t say anything. Not yet, anyway.
“Can you lift your hips for me darlin? Need to get these pretty panties off you, yeah?” You instantly lifted yourself up as much as you could, as Eddie slipped his hands under and pulled your underwear down your legs, throwing them somewhere behind him once they were off.
You could thank all the gods that Eddie didn’t tease you anymore. He pulled you to the edge of the table and your ankles crossed behind his back in an effort to keep him close to you, certain that if he didn’t touch you right there and then you were going to combust.
Eddie ran a finger along your cunt, finally getting to feel how desperate you really were. “Shit sweetheart, you’re fucking soaked, huh?” You whimpered at his words, not trusting yourself enough with words. “Yeah? s’okay I’ve got you, gonna make you feel so good I promise” Eddie dipped his finger against your entrance, gathering your wetness before going straight for your clit, rubbing slow circles right over that sweet spot. Your hips bucked at the small movement and Eddie looked up at you, his brown eyes peeking out from behind his overgrown bangs.
The amount of need he saw in your eyes was almost enough to make him pick you up and carry you to his bed there and then, but he was a firm believer in the more fucked out someone was before he had even fucked them, the better the sex. So, he fought every instinct in his body and dropped his eyes back to your cunt, finally attaching his mouth to you, making you mewl and whimper above him, immediately moving one of your hands to hold his head against your core, your fingers tangling into his curls.
Eddie knew what he was doing, his tongue running along your slit and moving up to suck on your clit, shaking his head whenever he did, causing you to throw your head back, eyes shut so tightly it almost hurt. Every time he felt your thighs tighten around him, or heard your breathing speed up, he pulled off your clit and went back to running his tongue through your cunt, stopping you from getting to where you really needed to be, but still feeling fucking ridiculous.
“Eddie- need your fingers, please” You begged him, you just needed to feel more of him.
He pulled back and smiled up at you “Look at you baby, using your words to tell me what you need.” As he said it he gently ran one finger along your cunt, dipping it inside you slightly in an attempt to work you open, but you were so needy he really didn’t need to.
His words made you clench around nothing and all you could do was mewl out longing pleases and eddies. Reciting his name like a mantra.
He whispered out little shh shh shh’s as he made delicate work of slipping his middle finger inside you. Of course, you had touched yourself before, but Eddie touching you surpassed anything you had ever made yourself feel. Just one of his fingers was enough to stretch you out, but you still needed more.
“More please- please” You couldn’t take your eyes off of Eddie, at how he couldn’t take his eyes off your cunt, where his finger was dipping in and out of you “I got you angel”.
Eddie slipped another finger inside you, it felt uncomfortable for a second and your eyebrows scrunched together as you tried to adjust to his fingers inside you. But that dull ache was soon relieved when Eddie curled his two fingers up inside you, hitting that spot that you had never been able to reach, or anyone else you had slept with had been able to reach. He kept a steady rhythm, not pulling his fingers in and out anymore, instead, he just kept curling his fingers perfectly each time. It had you seeing stars and your breath caught in your throat as you tried to calm yourself down.
“Yeah? That feel good, baby?” Eddie teased, lapping his tongue against your clit again, forcing you to let out the prettiest string of moans he had ever heard. “Fuck doll, anyone ever made you feel like this before, huh?” You were so fucked out already you just shook your head, trying to push his head back down, a silent plea for him to put his mouth back on you.
“No? That’s a fucking crime sweetheart. None of the boys your age are doing it for you huh?” Little whimpers and moans let him know the answer to his question without you having to say anything. The man was a menace, holding a conversation with you whilst he had two fingers curled inside you.
Oh, and you finally had an answer to your earlier question. He did keep his rings on whilst he fingered someone. Which you were ever so grateful for. It was the hottest thing you had ever seen or felt. The metal of his rings rubbing against you had your eyes rolling back into your head.
“Just needed someone who knew what they were doing to touch you, right?” Eddie was definitely a talker. Not that you were complaining, especially since you could barely string two words together right now.
He continued lapping at your clit whilst his fingers worked inside you, your moans getting louder by the minute. If you weren’t so busy with Eddie’s head between your legs you might be worried about getting a noise complaint from the other poor guests who could probably hear you.
You felt that coil in your stomach start to tighten and you let your hand that was resting on Eddie’s head pull oh his hair, eliciting a groan from him, his eyes searching for yours and when he found them screwed closed he used his free hand to grab one of yours and hold it, letting you know he knew you were close.
“Can you let go for me angel, hm? Come on, I got you”
That was all it took for the coil to snap, your whole body felt like it was burning, in the best way. Your grip on Eddie’s hand got tighter as he worked you through it, his fingers slowing down but not stopping, his thumb rubbing circles over your clit. All you could do was moan and whimper above him, letting out a stream of oh gods and don’t stop. Eddie was saying something to you, you could hear his muffled voice but your ears were ringing and everything was too much but you never wanted it to stop.
Until suddenly it all became too much, your legs instinctively trying to close, hand coming down to move Eddie’s away from you. He picked up on your change in demeanour instantly and slowly took his fingers out of you, pressing small kisses to your knee as he let you calm down.
“Fuck, Eddie-” Was all you could say when you’re senses came back to you.
You realised you were still holding Eddie’s hand, but you didn’t make any moves to let go. Neither did he.
“Yeah? Not bad for an old man, huh?” Eddie chirped.
“Fuck off, you’re forty. That’s not that old” You retaliated, watching as Eddie stood up from where he had knelt before you.
“Oh well thank you, sweetheart.” His voice dripped with sarcasm as he pushed your hair away from your face. A gesture that felt oddly romantic given the way you had found yourselves in this situation.
Eddie moved to slot his lips over yours, taking your bottom lip between his and sucking. You melted into the kiss and ran your tongue over his bottom lip, begging for entrance. He let you take control for a few seconds before he slipped his tongue into your mouth and you tasted yourself on him. The whimper that you let out was downright pornographic but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed.
“Fuck sweetheart, wrap your legs around me” Eddie’s voice was raspy and it cut through you like a knife, you didn’t even ask him why before you had your legs tightly holding onto his waist. He wasted no time picking you up from the table and carrying you to the bedroom, taking extra care to lie you gently down on the bed in the middle of the room, crawling to hover above you and attach his lips to your neck, sucking right onto your pulse point, causing a desperate moan to leave you.
Your legs tightened around him and he ground his hips down into you, his desperation was evident even though he was trying hopelessly to seem calm and collected. But with you lying underneath him that seemed to be impossible. With his head buried in your neck as he desperately worked to leave you covered in as many marks as possible, you tried to shift his weight off you so you could flip yourselves over. But he just tightened his grip on your waist, and hand that he still hadn’t let go off. Keeping you firmly pinned to the mattress.
“Eddie, I- oh fuck” he ground his hips down against you as you began speaking, stealing the breath from your lungs. “Eddie, do you not want me to…” Your confidence suddenly slipped again, you wanted to offer to suck his dick. But you had only given head a couple of times, each time being to a guy your age who was probably just grateful to have a girl on her knees in front of him. Eddie was older, and a world-famous rockstar. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself. But you really wanted to taste him.
“What is it doll?” Eddie pushed as he dusted light kisses across your jaw, rubbing circles over the slip of skin that was exposed where your t-shirt had ridden up.
“Can I- can I suck your dick?” Your voice was small and Eddie couldn’t tell if you were just nervous or if you didn’t actually want to.
“You don’t have to sweetheart, don’t worry about it.” Either way, he wasn’t going to let you do something unless he was absolutely positive that you really wanted to. He dipped back down and pulled you into a long, deep kiss. Your hands flew to the back of his neck as you kissed him back, all tongue and teeth, but you wouldn’t want it any other way.
“I want to though” You insisted, barely moving your lips off of Eddie’s. Eddie’s long hair fell around you both, cutting you off from being able to see anything other than his face as he leaned over you.
Eddie still wasn’t sure, he noticed the way your hands that you had on the back of his neck had moved so you could mess with your fingers. He didn’t know you well enough to know if that was a nervous habit of yours, but it was one of his, so he took a safe guess that you were probably more nervous than you were letting on.
“S’okay doll. Honestly, if I get your mouth on me this’ll be over a lot quicker than either of us want.” He moved to rest all his waist on one hand, the other moving to push your t-shirt up, he looked up at you to make sure that was okay and when you nodded with way too much enthusiasm, he let out a quiet laugh and lifted your t-shit off you, lowering himself to place kisses down your chest and stomach.
Feeling his lips on your skin sent a bolt of electricity shooting through your body and suddenly all you needed was to feel him inside you. You whimpered and grabbed the back of the top he was still wearing, you hadn’t even noticed he had already taken off his leather jacket. Eddie soon realised what you wanted, sitting back on his haunches to pull his top over his head.
Your eyes dropped down to stare at Eddie, his pale body covered in tattoos, across his chest and arms. Your hand impulsively reaching out to trace over them. Eddie smiled and picked up your other arm, dotting little kisses up and down it. You lowered your hand that had been tracing over his tattoos and began to undo his belt, frustration quickly building as you couldn’t get it undone.
Eddie noticed how your brows knitted together and felt a pang of adoration in his chest at how sweet you looked lying below him. He took both of your hands in his as he guided your hands to help you undo his belt, breathing out a small “good girl” as you let his fingers guide yours.
Once you had both undone it Eddie reluctantly pulled away from you and stood up to push his jeans and underwear off, grabbing a condom from the bedside table. You pushed your skirt off and when you looked back up at Eddie your gaze dropped down and your breath hitched in your throat. He was… big. You felt your whole body tense up as you realised you had never been with someone that big before. Two of his fingers alone were enough to feel a lingering pressure in your stomach.
Eddie leaned back down over you and pressed a gentle kiss on your lips, his hand caressing the apple of your cheek as you widened your legs more and he settled between them comfortably.
“You okay, sweetheart?” Eddie whispered as he moved to adjust your legs around him and grab a pillow from the bed. “Can you lift your hips-” You moved slightly so Eddie could place the pillow below you. “Thank you, baby” He praised you as you followed his instructions instantly.
“D’you still want this?” Eddie asked suddenly, his voice dropping back to his normal tone, rather than the more controlling, deeper one he had been speaking with before. You nodded your head quickly and muttered out a little “please” as he carefully watched your face.
Your enthusiasm seemed to please him enough to carry on, and he kissed you once more before moving his hand down to guide himself into you. He ran his cock through your folds and groaned at the wetness he found there “Shit doll, you need it bad huh?” You moaned out as the head of his cock hit your bundle of nerves, bucking your hips up and digging your fingers into the bed. He shushed you and pushed your hips back down “I really gotta teach you some patience angel.” He told you as he ground his hips forward, grinding over your dripping cunt but not pushing in.
“Just so desperate for someone to finally fuck you how you need aren’t you?” Your head lolled to the side as he kept grinding into you, hitting your clit each time. “Uh uh, eyes on me sweetheart.”
You used all the energy you could muster to lift your head back to a position where you could look right at Eddie. “There she is, I’m not even inside you yet and you look fucked out, this enough for you?” Eddie cooed. “Don’t even need my cock inside you, do you?” The desperate cry that came from the back of your throat at his words almost made Eddie feel bad, but you sounded so pretty. “No no, please- fuck please.” Your legs tightened around his waist in protest to what he just said, Eddie bit back a smirk and let out a “yeah?” in fake pity.
“Need you inside me fuck- just please Eddie I–” Your cries were getting more desperate by the second and Eddie shushed you as he lined himself up at your entrance, pressing a light kiss to your neck to soothe you. “Okay angel, I hear you. Gonna make you feel so good, I promise.”
Eddie began to push inside of you, but only got so far before you let out a sound that sounded far too close to discomfort for him. He stopped moving and looked up to see your eyes closed tightly. “Hey, hey, look at me, come on.” You had never heard his voice that soft before, but you did what he asked, looking at him.
“You okay?” He asked, concern laced in his voice.
“M’okay, you’re just… bigger than I’m used to” A cocky grin spread across Eddie’s voice at your words and you gently pushed on his shoulder. His ego didn’t need to be any bigger than it already was.
“You want me to stop? I can eat you out again if you want?” He sounded so sincere that when you went to open your mouth to respond you couldn’t think of anything, so caught off guard by ‘asshole rockstar eddie’ being the exact opposite of what everyone knew him as.
“Sweetheart? You with me?” He held your face in his hand and rubbed his thumb along your jaw.
“Yeah um– no just keep going, please, I just needed a second to get used to it” You told him, a small laugh from you making him relax again. He attached his lips to yours and kissed you dizzy. A deep kiss that had you whimpering softly against his lips and distracted you from the pressure of Eddie pushing into you again.
“Fuck you’re so tight doll” Eddie said against your lips. The pressure built up again and you held onto his shoulder, digging your nails into the skin there.
“You’ve gotta relax for me angel, okay? Deep breaths, yeah?” Eddie whispered against your jaw, desperately trying to hold himself back from slamming into you, but you felt so good already.
You nodded and took a deep breath, but it was Eddie attaching his mouth back onto the sweet spot on your neck and sucking that relaxed you the most. The need that overtook you let Eddie finally bottom out, both of you letting out filthy moans at the feeling. “Fuck good girl, there you go, feel so fucking good” Eddie praised you, not moving yet, giving you time to adjust to him inside you. But you were sure that if he didn’t move soon you were going to cry.
“Eddie please move, I’m okay– Need you to fuck me” You begged. He pulled up from where he was tracing kisses down your throat, readjusting himself to rest on his forearms either side of your head.
Eddie pulled his hips and back and pushed all the way back in, your legs secured around his waist, keeping him as close to you as possible. The way he grinded his hips into you had you seeing stars, soft whimpers falling from your lips every time he pressed into you harder and deeper.
At one particular thrust you let out the the most pornographic moan you had ever heard yourself make, making Eddie fuck you harder, making sure to hit that spot deep inside of you that no one else had ever reached before. Your cunt clenched around him at the sensation and he let out a deep groan from the back of his throat, his hips faltering for a second before he pushed back into you even harder than before. “Fucking Jesus– shit y/n you can’t do that to me” he moaned out “Gonna make me come so fuckin’ fast, you’re so tight already oh my god– .” He was just talking to distract himself from his impending orgasm at this point, determined to make you come before him.
You and Eddie found a perfect rhythm after a while, your hips rolling against his as he kept hitting that sweet spot inside you. Your eyes closed and Eddie wasn’t having any of it, repeatedly telling you to look at him. But no matter how many times he said it your eyes would inevitably close again, too overcome with pleasure to focus on anything else.
Eddie brought his hand to your neck and simply rested it there, giving you the freedom to tell him to stop or move it if you didn’t like it. But when your hand moved to rest over his and you looked up at him with fucked-out eyes, he tightened his hold on your neck and you cried out. “Yeah? You like that, you just need someone to be a little rough with you huh?” Eddie teased, “It’s okay, just wanna be treated like a whore sometimes is that right? God you’re so fucking good for me doll”. His hand kept a firm hold across your throat, making sure to squeeze in the correct places so he didn’t cut off your air supply completely, but gave you that feeling of euphoria you craved.
It was all too much, but not enough at the same time. Your arousal covering your cunt and things, the noises were filthy but it felt so good that you weren’t embarrassed by how you could hear how wet you were each time Eddie drove his cock into you. Your thighs were numb around Eddie’s waist, your hips burning as you felt that coil tightening in your stomach again. His hand around your throat pinning you to the bed was your last straw, you felt tears prickling at the corner of your eyes from how good you felt.
“Fuck Eddie– I’m gonna-” You tried to tell him, his grip on your neck loosening slightly, making it easier for you to speak.
“You’re gonna come again angel?” You nodded, whimpers and moans falling from your lips. Eddie moved his hand from around your neck, moving it between your two bodies until he placed two fingers over your clit, rubbing fast circles over it.
Your back arched off the bed and your mouth hung open in a silent scream. “There you go, good fucking girl.” Eddie exclaimed, watching you in adoration as you came undone beneath him for the second time that night.
You didn’t even know how long your orgasm lasted, but Eddie worked you through it until you came back around. Looking up at him above you, damp hair clinging to his forehead, kiss-bitten lips parted as he let out quiet moans at the feel of your cunt around him, you could see how desperate he was to come.
“God, can you turn over for me doll” Eddie asked, but he was already pulling out of you and gripping your hips to put you in the position he wanted you. Your legs felt like they were going to give out any minute, but you didn’t care. You moved onto your front and Eddie pulled your hips back against him as your back arched up, burying your face into the pillow in front of you. Eddie slipped back in and you practically screamed out at the overstimulation, but you never wanted him to stop.
“God that’s it– gonna come soon angel, doing so well for me.” Eddie’s voice came out raspy and his voice broke at the end. You only pushed your hips back into him harder.
You felt Eddie still inside of you as he came hard and fast, not bothering to hold back the tidal wave of moans and groans that left his lips as his orgasm washed over him. His hands holding your hips so tightly you wouldn't be surprised if there were bruises there in the morning.
He took a minute to compose himself before he pulled out of you, you whimpered at the feeling and he whispered comforting sh-sh-sh’s and apologised repeatedly. You managed to gather enough energy to turn yourself back over. Eddie walked back over to the bed, his boxers already back on. He knelt on the end of the bed and pulled some tissues from the table nearby. “Open your legs for me doll” You did as he asked, letting out little gasps as he cleaned you up, still sensitive from everything that had just happened. “You want a top to sleep in? Or…” Eddie asked, slightly more abrupt than you had been expecting, but you figured it was just the comedown after sex.
“Yeah please” you answered quietly, reaching out to grab one of his tops he had already gone to get for you. You threw it, and your underwear, back on. Not entirely sure of what happened now, but when Eddie simply turned off the lamps around the room and climbed into bed you followed his lead and he only reached over to pull you across him as he fell asleep.
There weren’t any more words exchanged between the two of you as you finally drifted off to sleep, limbs tangled together.
.
.
.
You woke up to the morning sun beating through the windows. The spring sun sitting high in the sky, lighting the room up in a near-magical way. You awoke in almost the same position you had fallen asleep in, except now you were facing away from Eddie, instead of being buried in his still bare chest.
You yawned quietly and stretched your arm above you, careful not to wake Eddie. This was all still so surreal. Your eyes scanned the room you had woken up in, being able to take in your surroundings properly for the first time.
Your gaze was drawn to the living room that was directly across from the bedroom, there were no doors leading to the two rooms, instead being replaced instead by overly-sized archways which allowed you to see right through the bedroom to the living room. The rooms were only separated by the wide hallway.
The living room was ginormous, and one wall was simply a massive window, overlooking the city skyline, it was beautiful, you couldn't deny that. The couch sat in the middle of the room with a glass coffee table in front of it, decorated with magazines and a vase of flowers. You took a wild guess that those were always there, you didn’t imagine Eddie was requesting for flowers to be put in his room.
A tv sat on the other side of the room, with various other decorative pieces scattered around, the most eye-catching was the massive rug that covered most of the floor. The dim lights illuminated the elegance of the place, and you couldn’t help but feel this place was the opposite of Eddie.
You felt your stomach drop at the realisation that you still didn’t understand Eddie. He had been perfect last night, it felt like something out of a romance novel where the guy is the perfect man, attentive and caring. But he wasn’t like that at the start of the night, and by the end of the night he didn’t say another word to you.
Before you could overthink it anymore a loud knock rang through the suite. You remembered Eddie’s security saying he would come over in the morning, but Eddie wasn’t stirring. You considered shaking him awake, but just as you were about to turn over and wake him another knock came from the door. Louder this time, followed by a deep voice calling out Eddie’s name, saying something like “Get your ass up and out of bed or I swear to god–”
That seemed to cut through even Eddie’s deepest sleep and you felt the bed dip as Eddie begrudgingly got up and padded over to open the door before it was knocked down. You didn’t think he had noticed you were awake too, so you didn’t move, instead staying in bed and listening to the conversation happening down the hall.
“Ah! He’s still alive, that’s always good to know, makes my job easier.” you heard the sarcastic remarks of Eddie’s security, hearing humor in his voice for the first time.
“Do you like pissing me off this early in the morning, John? Or is it a happy accident?” Eddie retaliated, sounding much too like a sullen teenager for a forty year old man.
“Happy accident. Is the young lady awake or do you want me to come back?” John asked, peering behind Eddie trying to catch a glimpse of you. He couldn’t of course, you still hadn’t moved from the bed.
“No she’s uh– asleep.” Eddie’s voice got quieter as he said something else to John. So quiet you didn’t hear the rest of the conversation, just the door shutting about a minute later, and Eddie’s footsteps as he made his way back to the bedroom.
Your eyes met as he walked in and you sat up on the edge of the bed, ankles crossed as you placed your hands behind you, leaning back. You saw Eddie carrying the clothes that had been left in the hallway the night before, placing them down on the bed and nodding his head in acknowledgment.
“He’s like a grumpy dad or something” you tried to joke, letting out a feeble attempt at a laugh. Not that he was even old enough to be Eddie’s dad, in fact he was probably only a couple years older than him.
“Uh-huh.” Was all Eddie said, but you thought you saw him tense up. So, you took your second wild guess of the morning that maybe you shouldn’t bring up parents with Eddie, seemingly a sore subject for him.
That was something else about Eddie. He had been in the public eye for nearly fifteen years now, and yet no one knew anything about his life before. Literally, nothing. You figured that had to be deliberate, there was no way no one had found out anything about him, or what his life was like before, but if they had, they had probably been paid off to keep their mouths shut. You couldn’t imagine why, almost every rockstar had a dodgy past, scandals and an arrest record were commonplace. They didn’t care about any of that, but Eddie was different.
Eddie’s morning voice cut through your thoughts. “John will uh, be back in like two minutes. So, you can get dressed if you want.”
Oh.
You watched Eddie as he threw on a pair of jeans and a top, not bothering to look at you as he all but told you to leave. “He’s already called a cab for you so– yeah.” You wanted to say something, ask him something, anything. But you didn’t know what.
This was what he did. You had known this going into it.
Instead you threw on your clothes from the day before, barely having time to put your shoes on before there was a knock on the door. Your head flew up to see Eddie was already staring at you as he leant against the archway to the living room. He quickly turned away as your eyes met and he pushed himself off the wall to walk over and open the door. You followed far behind, standing halfway down the hallway, holding back tears you could feel forming. You were so fucking stupid.
As soon as the door opened John saw you stood there. You swear you saw something like pity flash in his eyes before he went back to his usual, somewhat angry, demeanor. “I’m gonna go see if the other guys are up yet, need to talk to them about some changes for tonights show.” Eddie’s voice was quiet but you could hear it all the same. John just nodded and moved to the side to let Eddie past.
You thought he would say goodbye to you.
Say something before he left.
He didn’t.
He left you standing in his hotel room, his security guard waiting to walk you to the cab waiting for you outside. Your stomach dropped at the realisation that you weren’t any different to the others. That he probably spoke to everyone the way he had spoken to you, looked at them the way he looked at you.
It would have killed you to realise that he didn’t speak to everyone like that, and he certainly didn’t look at everyone the same way he looked at you. And he knew that, and it scared the shit out of him.
So he left.
.
.
.
authors note my loves! this took me far too long to write so i hope you enjoyed it, at least a little bit <3 i apologise for any spelling or grammar mistakes but i'm posting this at 2am so it is what it is. also, this is still only my second ever fic, so please go easy on me, i'm way too sensitive <3 okay bye love you
taglist @squidwards-fave-tentacle @hbaramas @cardiganquinn @etherealeddie @eddies-girl-22 @tlclick73 @c0untryclub @eddiemunson95 @thatfantagirl @icant-hangout-imdrumming
#eddie munson smut#older!eddie#rockstar!eddie#eddie x reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson angst#eddie munson comfort#stranger things 4#older!eddie smut#older!eddie x reader#eddie munson#st4#eddie munson st4#eddie my beloved#eddie munson the love of my life#eddie munson fluff#eddie x fem!reader#eddie munson x fem!reader smut#eddie munson x female character#eddie the banished#corroded coffin#joe quinn#joseph quinn#joequinn#strangerthingsedit#eddie stranger things#stranger things#josephquinnedit#eddie smut
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love to hate you | jjk [viii, preview]
“when obnoxiously rich and spoiled frat boy jeon jungkook comes up to you one day and asks you to fake date him for money, you definitely should have said no. because before you knew it, you were going on insta dates with him and having lunch with his equally obnoxiously rich and spoiled friends.”
— genre: fratboy! AU, fake dating! AU, college! AU, rich kid! AU, enemies to lovers! AU, angst, fluff, sexual themes (later chapters)
— pairing: jungkook x female reader
— word count: estimated 100k for the entire series, 970 for this preview
— warnings: none for this preview
— playlist: to be added
— a/n: i cant believe we've gotten this far into the story. we're slowly but surely nearing the end and i hope you guys will have as much fun reading this as i did writing it bc this is by far my favourite chapter ive written so far for those two idiots <3
— find it here
Oh.
Your friends followed your gaze.
Jungkook had his backpack strapped to his shoulder and the red scarf wrapped around his neck. It shouldn’t be possible. You were technically too far for you to properly see, but you saw it—the tension in his shoulders, the strain in his nape, the deep knit between his brows. He was…. annoyed. It was new to you. For a moment, you almost expected to find Narae walking behind him, bugging him, hot on his trail. It would explain it to you, and you would just simply walk over there and pull him to your table. Just like that, you would ease the knit between your brows, take the tension out of his shoulders and neck-
But it wasn’t Narae.
It was Taehyung.
He said something to Jungkook that made him roll his eyes. Jungkook didn’t seem to want to respond, shaking his head and waving his hand around, an attempt to end the conversation. But Taehyung wasn’t so kind, going on, even taking hold of his shoulder.
“Someone is in a mood,” Namjoon mumbled, cringing.
“What are they talking about, Y/N?” Jimin asked, looking at you, and you stared right back at him, frowning.
“How would I know?”
“You’re his girlfriend.”
“So?”
“Go find out.”
“What? I just walk up to them and say,” you raised your voice a few pitches, “‘Oh my God, hi, you guys are clearly fighting. Care to share?’ Is that what you want?”
Jimin blinked, shrugging. “Sure, that would work.”
“You’re so ridiculous, Jimin,” you hissed, touching a hand to your forehead. “That wouldn’t work.”
“Of course, it would. Kook’s absolutely obsessed-”
“Oh my God, shut up,” Chaeyoung hissed, slapping Jimin. “They’re looking!”
“You guys are always so loud,” Hoseok sighed, and you sent him a glare because no, you don’t! It’s just Jimin!
But they were right. Taehyung and Jungkook were both looking at you, their conversation having come to an end. When you met his gaze, Jungkook’s face contorted into something else, features twitching. You couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but it wasn’t the usual. He didn’t soften in the way you were used to when he would see you. And when you tried a smile, Jungkook struggled to return it. You felt shot, and your smile faltered.
But Jimin didn’t sense it at all, wildly waving his hand around, gesturing for the two to come this way. And as if it wasn’t more obvious, he yelled it too, “Hey, Tae and Kook! Come join us!”
Jisoo sighed, “He’s such an idiot.”
Chaeyoung and Hoseok shrugged, as if to say well, it’s Jimin. They were right, it was just Jimin being himself, unaware and impulsive. Namjoon didn’t have any words, shaking his head.
Jungkook and Taehyung looked at each other, exchanging a few words before the latter glanced at his watch and shook his head. He had to go. Taehyung placed his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, whispering something into his ear. You must have imagined it but it looked like he glanced in your direction. But before you could think about it, Taehyung headed in the same direction he had previously come from, and Jungkook slowly made his way over, not meeting your eyes once.
“What were you arguing about?” Jimin asked when Jungkook stood in front of you, and you watched him grip the strap of his backpack, the skin over his knuckles stretching thin.
“Jimin!” Jisoo hissed, punching him.
“Ow!”
“Right, yeah, of course, you’d ask,” he smiled. “It’s fine.”
Jungkook said it with a laugh, but it was all wrong.
“We weren’t arguing.”
And as if it wasn’t enough, Jungkook put on his brightest and biggest smile. He showed it to everyone. Like a stone plunged into the deep sea, your heart sank. You had seen it before, that smile. It had decorated his lips during the Halloween party when you first walked in, or when you had first hurt his feelings while you had gone costume shopping.
Namjoon and you looked at each other shortly, both of you sensing it.
“Is everything-”
“Well, it looked like you were,” Jimin mumbled, accidentally interrupting Namjoon. He waited for Jungkook to budge and cave under his gaze, but when he wouldn’t, he shrugged. “Come sit.”
Maybe he could feel your burning gaze on him, but Jungkook finally glanced in your direction. If only for a second, so very brief. But it dug into your heart and split it open, gutted you and left you utterly empty. You had seen him just yesterday, picked out your dress together, parted ways this morning a few hours ago, and now he seemed like another person. He looked so sad, sad in a way you hadn’t seen before. You didn’t think that any emotion close to that had ever crossed his features, not in your presence at least. It was so new and surprising to you—because somehow in your mind, you had forgotten he had the ability to feel… upset—you froze.
“I’m sorry, I have to go,” Jungkook said, nailing that same smile back onto his lips as before. “But I’ll see you guys around.”
And before any of you could protest, he was gone, back turned to your table and heading into the crowd.
“Well, that was… weird,” Chaeyoung said, pointing out the elephant in the room. And as if she had said your name, everyone turned to you for some kind of answer.
You blinked back at them. “Yeah, I-I don’t know.”
There was another beat of silence before ultimately your friends shrugged.
“Maybe it’s just not a good day?” Hoseok proposed, and they were all quick to agree, moving on. And though you didn’t voice it, you knew it wasn’t that. It couldn’t just be that.
You knew it was about you. It had to be.
find it here
#jungkook angst#jungkook fluff#jungkook x reader#jungkook scenarios#jungkook fanfic#bts scenarios#bts x reader#bts angst#bts fluff#linh.preview
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Don't Say Something Stupid
Summary: Wanda is unable to commit yet unable to admit she's wrong. (Part Two of Don't Ask Stupid Questions)
Warnings: Pure Angst, No Happy Ending, Maybe Part Three?
A/n: Wanted to hurt y'all more, so here y'all go :) Gif credits go to @thedorkphoenix
Word Count: 662
Masterlist
Part One | Part Two
“Y/n, your new partner is Emma.” Wanda turned her attention from Vision to Steve at the mention of Emma. Trying to hold back her offense, Wanda commented, “Y/n is my partner.”
Wanda looked back at Y/n, but their eyes hadn’t met as Y/n continued to stare at Emma’s file. “We believe their powers work better together, Wanda. Plus, your new assigned partner is Vision as your mind stones should help with increased efficiency and communication.”
Wanda held back the comment on the tip of her tongue. It wasn’t appropriate to say stupid things like, “But she’s always been my partner.”
“You dumped Vision?” Natasha asked surprisingly. Wanda looked away as she could tell Y/n had heard the comment with the way her shoulders tensed.
“He kept wanting more and honeslty…” Wanda sighed, feeling more guilty of the additional person she led on, “…and I couldn’t give him that.”
Natasha nodded in understatement as she squeezed Wanda’s shoulder. “Was it because y’all didn’t have the connection?” Wanda shook her head, feeling lost as to why she even did it in the first place.
“Honestly, I’m not too sure…I rather admit that before saying something stupid.” Wanda tried her best not to look at Y/n’s slumped shoulders as she proceeded to get up from the coach and walk to her room.
And as Natasha continued to talk, Wanda didn’t dare to remember how much Y/n hated feeling stupid.
“Why did you get in my way?” Emma was held back by Y/n as she aggressively questioned Wanda. “You almost got Y/n and I hurt with that stunt you pulled.”
Wanda rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “Had it not been for my quick thinking, Y/n would’ve got hurt and you would’ve been swarmed.”
“We had it handled,” Emma bit back. And before Wanda could get another word, Y/n locked eyes with her, and silently pleaded to stop. Seeing Wanda’s stance falter, Y/n pulled Emma back and mumbled, “Let’s not fight anymore. We’ll figure it out a different day so come on.”
While Y/n tugged on Emma’s hand, Wanda mind couldn’t stop thinking of stupid things. The main one being, “Were you even on my side?”
“Are you ignoring me?” Wanda caught Y/n in the hallway, almost close to the spot where they used to secretly make out. The red head could tell that Y/n had wanted to be anywhere else but there with her. Although it stung, Wanda wanted answers.
“Wanda - I - let’s just be cordial.” Feeling even more confused, Wanda backed Y/n into the wall with her arms crossed.
“Cordial? You don’t even speak to me anymore.” Y/n still didn’t look at Wanda’s eyes. The girl was absolutely frustrated at how dense Wanda could be as if she couldn’t read the room.
“Well…” Y/n swallowed her anxiety and pain and finally looked into Wanda’s eyes, “…rules are rules. I broke them so this is me moving on from it.”
Wanda stepped back, feeling slapped and shocked at the confession. “Moving on? Are you seriously unable to continue without having feelings involved?” The red head didn’t know where this fierceness came from. It certainly didn’t explain what she truly meant. But she was always too stubborn to think it through.
Y/n scoffed, not surprised that Wanda could barely understand her place. “You ‘re right, I seriously don’t know why I ever fell for you.” The smug look on Wanda’s face fell. She’s had many people admit their feelings for her but none have ever admitted to regretting them.
Y/n didn’t wait for Wanda’s response and started to walk away but Wanda’s hand stopped her from going. Not wanting to hear anything more, Y/n blurted, “Don’t say anything stupid now, Wanda.”
Snatching her hand out of Wanda’s grip, Y/n declared, “You might get your heart broken if you do.”
Taglist: @halobaby @arelyitsherec8 @blackxwidowsxwife @cristin-rjd @madamevirgo @trikruismybitch @paradiselost916 @mmmmokdok @morbid-gaymer @dailyavengering @itsnottilly @helloalycia @randomshyperson @tomy5girls @daenerys713 @ensorcellme @lezzzbehonesthere @imagine-reblog
@sighsam @olsensnpm @tquick99 @feolok @emilyprentisslittlewhore @mvddison99 @iamapotato @yuhloversxx @mjaudrey @upsidedowndanvers @somewhatgreatexpectations @wandavixen @magicallymaximoff @username23345 @coollemonsaresour @littlewinchester15 @aimezvousbrahms @afuckingshituniverse @am-just-a-cosmic-joke-to-me
@ohmygooddamnbisexualmood @diaryoflife @s7uts @newyork1432 @the-anxious-stargazer @hello-mtf @marvelousbelladonna @ima-gi–na-tion @obsessed-with-wandamaximoff @the-camilucha
@itsnottilly @171611 @kaitlynroseb @daisybri7 @drpepperobsessed @bemyvitamin @musicinourlips @marvelousbelladonna @gingerbreadcookieforlife @xastrydx @chasethemoon @naixia00 @lostandsearching @stupidsapphicsstuff @haechanana @the-camilucha @severepeanutartisanhands @owloftheshadows @somewhatgreatexpectations @ywuen @mixed-fandom-mess @loomontoia @ilovemarvelwomen @coxmicbabygirl @cyanide-mustard @mrs-avenger3000 @prentisshoe @andrea-stark @simpforwandanat @abimess @randomshyperson @yourtaletotell @magically-queer-stuff
@imapotatao @iliketozoneout @maximoffbrossupremacy@olsensnpm @psychadelichues @whitelotus00 @taliiiaasteria @tynix @autorasexy @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @hiiraya @reginassweetheart @milkeeteaa
@msmothermaximoff @unicorniusfallapatorius @cakechan123 @anniedanvers @oh-thats-cute @ielliesitcheyereposts @how-to-disappearrr @justyourwritter69 @canvascoloredin (Wanted to tag y'all because I think y'all wanted a part two, but I won't add y'all to future taglists unless you want me to)
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda x reader#angst#wanda maximoff#Don't Say Something Stupid#Don't Ask Stupid Questions#friends with benefits trope#mionemymind
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