#or the fact that everything hes done was to his real friend
Text
Bloody Nose | Matt Rempe
SUMMARY: During med school, your dad gets you a volunteer role with the New York Rangers to get some hands-on experience. On your first day, Matt Rempe clashes with Mathieu Olivier.
WARNINGS: Mentions of blood & bruises.
PAIRING: Matt Rempe x f! reader.
NOTES: I don't think it's possible to not be feral for this guy. I'm sure this idea will have been done a hundred times before, but I couldn't help it.
WORD COUNT: 1,600
It was not a role you were expecting as you were progressing through med school, in fact you never would’ve considered it if your dad didn’t know the general manager of the New York Rangers.
You needed some hands-on experience as part of your course, under supervision but in a real setting — while most of your friends went at found volunteer roles within doctors’ offices and hospitals where possible, you joined the medical team of the Rangers.
Of course, it was university policy that they had to approve the role, and they were quick to. You were not the first to find a role with a sports team, and you wouldn’t be the last. One student on the year above you spent a season with the Mets, which presented a whole different collection of injuries.
You didn't really know much about hockey, it had only been a passing interest as a child with your dad taking you to the odd game here and there ― you were certainly not a hockey fan but you were going to approach this with interest. And with how some of your friends publicly voiced their jealousy, you were becoming somewhat excited about the opportunity.
to expect. General hockey injuries ranged from the simple knocks, cuts and bumps to concussions, and everything in between. There was a lot that could happen, and you hadn't even considered the possibility of brawls yet.
In the early morning, you dressed into the simple uniform that you’d been given; a navy sports kit with the team logo and ‘team medic’ written simply across the back. You certainly looked the part. And with your hair tied back, you left your apartment for the airport. The medical staff travelled late to Columbus, and you’d be among them.
You’d already been introduced to the team medic, whose hand rose in a short wave at the first sight of you weaving through the small crowd. Simply relieved to see a familiar face within the flood of Rangers staff. In just under two hours, you were in Columbus, Ohio with a bubbling excitement.
For the whole ride to the rink, the senior medic talked you through your role. You’d take all of the ‘small’ injuries while he would be there for the more major, and any concussion assessments.
“Just be aware, Rempe likes a good fight — always be prepared to plug a bloody nose.” He sighed, giving your shoulder a friendly tap as he finally broke into a laugh. Excitement turned to a bubbling concern as you slowly nodded.
Players began to file into the arena, none having any idea who you were, but they did not question it. Staff came and went, and your navy Rangers tracksuit was enough to tell them that you were on the team.
There was one who’s eyes lingered a little longer than the others, and you felt your cheeks burning beneath his gaze. He must have been about a foot taller than you, shaggy brown hair and a mischievous grin that put a name to a face without even needing an introduction — this was Rempe.
You took your place at the end of the tunnel with the head medic, from there you’d watch the game, and be ready for any injuries that would come your way. Your heart was pounding as the puck dropped, this was for real and you silently pleaded that this would be a nice, calm game
But less than three minutes in, your eyes snapped up at the sound of the whistle — the gloves and sticks flying in different directions as two players grappled. You made no attempt to hide the rolling of your eyes as you grabbed the nearest towel, watching closely with each punch exchanged for any signs of blood. No blood meant they’d go to the box, you’d been told that much.
As the final punch was thrown, watching as the giant body of the Ranger was wrangled to the ice, none could miss the crimson that poured from his nose.
The head medic giving you the nod as you moved toward the gate ― a bloody nose was something that you could handle with your eyes closed, and he knew that. This was your one to handle.
You watched as the massive body of Rempe was skated to the bench by a referee, his eyes caught upon you once more as his lips curved into a pained grin. The crowd were going wild, stood on their feet as they cheered and screamed. It was your arm that he took as he stepped off the ice, the various hands of Rangers teammates tapping the 21-year-old on the back as you led him down the tunnel.
“Feeling okay?” You shouted over the cheers of the crowd as soon as you'd cleared the bench. You had to cock your head just to meet his eyes, his massive 6’8 body at your side. He almost flinched at the sound of your voice, the first words you’d spoken to him.
He didn't reply, he only nodded as he grinned, a bloody thumb raised for you to see. He was proud of himself and that was written clearly across his bloody face.
“Do me a favour,” You sighed, your hand pushing open the door to the medical room with the familiar pharmaceutical smell. “Warn me next time.”
That was enough to bring a laugh from his bloody lips, a bearish hand rising to wipe the crimson with a large smudge across his pale cheek. The red liquid was already everywhere, he’d need a blood jersey and you’d need a few minutes to clean this mess up.
“No promises, boss.” He teased in a whisper, dropping upon the medical bed with a thud. “What’s your name?”
You’d turned your back to him before he asked, collecting a cup of water and a handful of towels. It was well-timed as you felt that flushing of your cheeks almost instantly at his question.
“y/n, why?”
He sat completely still as you returned with hands full of towels are cotton wool, Matt had done this enough times to know what you’d ask him to do. His hand was already out and ready for the water that you’d give to him to swill out his bloody mouth.
“I’ve just not seen you with the team before … I’m Matt.”
You nodded in a silent ‘i know’, which made him laugh again. The pained grin seemingly stuck upon his lips as he watched you closely, every movement as if it were the first time he was seeing it — like he was seriously interested in the towels and the rolled wool. It was enough to bring that fluttering to your stomach.
He leaned forward onto his legs, bloody hands firmly planted upon his knees as he closed a gap between you. His voice no more than a whisper.
“Did you like my fight?”
You could feel his hot breath upon your skin as you stood, unmoving with a heavy inhale parting your lips. You were ready for blood and for broken bones, but you were not ready for this. Whatever this was.
“Do the girls normally like it?” You finally replied as you steadied yourself, brow rising in your own tease. Two could play that game, and you intended to play if he did.
Though he would not say it, your response drove him wild — that grin deepened as he leaned a little closer, his head cocking to keep your gaze tied with his own.
“They do.”
A slow nod, your hand placing the cup of water on the table beside him, your brow rose.
“How about you ask me when you win next time?”
It was far from the answer that he was expecting, but fuck — he liked the answer. He was resisting every urge to touch you, he sorely wanted to. Maybe it was the adrenaline of the fight, but you were very tempting to him.
You both, almost at the same time, broke into a shared laughter. His massive frame straightening up as he’d collect the cup of water, swilling the clear liquid before it would dribbling from his lips into the cup with a red tint.
“I don’t think you need me to do this for you?” You spoke with towels held toward him. He shook his head, taking them from you with a nod of thanks and began to wipe at the crusting crimson.
Things were quiet for a few moments, white towels turned red as his face became cleaner with each moment. The team’s kit manager would poke his head in with a clean jersey, which you quickly handed across.
You’d help him remove the blood-splattered jersey, catching a glimpse of his bare torso beneath the pads. Eyes were stuck upon the pale skin, which of course, he noticed. He liked that you were looking. Even as you helped him pull on the fresh, white jersey, his lips remained curved in the cheeky grin.
“You should come out for a drink with us after this.” Matt muttered with brows rising and falling, giving you a little nudge as he rose for the table and, once more, towered above you.
He crossed the room first, opening the door and holding it wide for you to exit first. As you walked through, you looked up with lips curved deep. You never expected to be glad of a fight, but you’d almost enjoyed wiping away all that blood.
“Maybe I will.”
#matt rempe#matt rempe x reader#nhl blurb#hockey imagine#nhl imagine#nhl x reader#feral for this guy#silovsmenotwrites
73 notes
·
View notes
Text
I'm curious what people think about Victor and Eli's relationship during the Lockland Era. I'm of the opinion that Eli cared about Victor as a person more than Victor cared about him, which isn't to say I don't think Victor cared, but I think his care was a lot more focused on himself and how Eli made *him* feel. This isn't an analysis or anything, really. I don't have evidence from the books to back me. I'm just more sharing a headcannon than anything. If anyone has any thoughts on this please share them I'm curious
#its like#i feel like Victor saw Eli as a puzzle to be solved#he wanted his attention and companionship#but any actual worry or care he has for him is stuffed down so far it only surfaces when he thinks Eli might not come back#And Eli definitely has those moments of selfishness too#but he clearly cared a lot more about Victor's safety than Victor even cared for himself#his feelings are nowhere near entirely selfless but to me it felt like he had a lot more affection(?) for Victor before it all went to shit#which made him even more willing to kill Victor in the end#because in his mind the Victor he knew and loved was already dead#and whoever was left was just a crude imitation wearing his skin#and when that opinion gets called into question he doubles down on it#because he cant handle the idea that this is who Victor really is#or the fact that everything hes done was to his real friend#anyway thats just my take on it#let me know what you think#vengeful ve schwab#vicious ve schwab#victor vale#villains series#eli ever#eli cardale#evervale#vicious#vengeful
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
anyways the show removed one of the best parts of the books, which was that alina was fucking haunted by the darkling. there is nothing more interesting about their relationship than his existence as a ghost inside the halls of her mind
#shadow and bone#grishaverse#alina starkov#sab#aleksander morozova#the darkling#darklina#kinda#myramblings#the darkling is a ghost the darkling is already dead the darkling exists always as the specter of the man she is going to kill herself#his death is inevitable and it is inevitable because of the things he's faced the things he's done because of what was done to him#he is an example of everything wrong with the world that made him that way#and he is a tragedy#the show hardly did this correctly because it was all dream visits and no REAL haunting#that scene where alina is in his rooms is SO visceral#and they didn't include it#and of course that removed the fact that she struggles to reveal to her friends that he's haunting her#because what does that say about her?#and what will they think of her? for having this darkness inside of her. will they think she's like him?#but again it's just another complex facet of her character that's erased 🙄#whatever#all of these characters deserved better but especially alina and genya
73 notes
·
View notes
Text
.
#ok ik all the hot take asks are pre much done and the sparkly say smth nice asks are better but well I’ve been having thoughts all day at#work and want to get them out now so that’s what I’m doing lol#obvs for the past few months i think ppl are vv heavily leaning into the dnf /r and I firmly believe that they aren’t#like yes I enjoy being a multi shipper but I still primarily read dnf fics bc they’re cute dnf writers and artists MWAHH ilysm#but it’s been increasingly annoying how every move dnf make ppl hyper obsess over it and ignore everything else like blog what u want this#is tumblr dot com but I think ppl how only see dnf thro the lens of romantic do much more ‘harm’ than ppl who dont#like the argument about taking validation out of their very REAL amazing friendship just gets over shadowed by omg Dream posted a pic of#geogre they’re in LOVE and sucking and FUCKING every night. like#and then completely disregard when dnf do and say the exact same shit about all their other friends#like dream has explicitly said they aren’t dating (ignore that tho) amd that’s he’s kissed multiple ppl since coming out (ignore that too)#and their friends naturally say that they’re all single (ignore that too) idk man it’s ok they like to pander amd that dream is a toxic#dnfer but it’s all just For Funsies. another thing is ppl CONSTANTLYYYY putting geohres sexuality under a microscope oh he drinks lemonade#from Starbucks he’s soooo gay like dumb shit like that is so irritating#the fact that geogre has never once talked about his sexuality except that one instance where he got a DONO about it proves how much it#just doesn’t matter or apply to the type of content creator he is/wants to be#to be clear if he is or isn’t or dnf every explicitly announce their romantic relationship im gonna be sooooo happy and supportive like aw#dnfogies🫶🏻 but I think there’s a 99.9% chanve that’ll never happen so maybe we should all just care a Little Less and focus on out lgbt#creators if that’s smth u wanna watch/blog about idk maybe I’m just burnt out from the phandom but whyyyyy does is matter what their#sexualities are they play minecraft who cares who CARESSSS idk maybe just having older brothers around dtqk ages has made me realize that#guys will just act homiesexual no matter What#guys are just Like That and tbc I’m not saying that just bc gnf hasn’t made an official coming out doesn’t mean he’s not queer but for the#sake of his contwnt it doesn’t matter either way ? so why are ppl talking about it on the daily idk man it’s just annoying but Oh Well#at the end of the day they’re all famous white guys and nothing matters hurray !!
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
third times the charm re: distilling a [winston billions autistic character] jumping off point re: like, applications of individual responsibility Bootstraps Narrative attitude just in general when it comes to some people being Made more vulnerable than others, and the way that these differences are Deserved, the solution to someone suffering for it is for them to personally choose to better themself to thusly earn more, and for, conveniently, Punishment to be a neutral conduit of moral improvement, should you be so deserving as to accept it
if someone interprets an autistic person as offputting & reacts to this with disdain b/c of an imagined correlating Undeserving Interiority within that person, that’s objective & correct, & however they punish that person is as well. autistic people should have to Do The Work of making up for their previous failure to simply Learn how to act correctly, since allistic people definitely underwent ABA & now think of themselves as choosing to act that way rather than just Naturally Being Normal (wherein also any conscious effort is just ascribed to further personal positive qualities of theirs, the Kindness / Generosity / Thoughtfulness etc etc in striking up small talk or whatever, while ascribing thoughtlessness / disrespect to nd behavior), and in the meantime a) the best an autistic person can hope for, if, like a properly humble poor person, they deserve the pity, is that equivalent of a windfall of the charity some better off individual can Choose to afford them, e.g. like if an autistic employee happens to have some manager or someone who can & does look out for them / tries to insulate them from nonsense....and at the heart of the matter, the double empathy problem Is deserved, the solution to an autistic person being disliked is either that they shouldn’t be here at all, or that if they can endure existing somewhere that’s actually beyond what they can manage to Earn, they deserve the punishment of being nobly treated “the same,” i.e., oh if Anyone was acting like this i’d be an asshole to them, which is why people don’t even need to Know someone’s autistic to react to the reality of their being autistic, the person in question doesn’t even need to know it about themself....and ultimately it’s worse to Not try to yourself punish, or allow the punishment of, this weirdo grating cringe loser, b/c only the cleansing nature of that punishment will let them personally improve & start acting better & Deserving better, otherwise you’re just enabling them to keep being annoying at other people & those other ppl’s annoyance is Also blood on your hands (then it’s time to turn around & let people even Higher Up on the social hierarchy do whatever they want / bend over backwards to interpret & explain & justify everything they do in the most positive lights & blame other people for being hurt by them)
and like, the handy flexibility re: what’s Deserved when, say, how other characters look at a character like ben kim. he’s Too Nice, and that can mean that he deserves better, or it can mean that that’s a bleeding heart doormat loser trait that deserves the disdainful punishment it might get. and even if you Do think he deserves better? the reason he isn’t Already getting that better treatment must be due to personal failure anyways: he Is being too much of a loser &/or how he’ll only get better if he Steps Up & Acts more like a winner, for god’s sake, do the elevator dance stuff, that’s not only reasonable but obvious, cmon. tuk’s weird Confidence Training masterclass where it’s like, softhearted ben will be like “sorry :/ nothing anyone can do though” but tuk can’t go “hey, can you not be an asshole to me” and expect to get anywhere if he’s still being his too uncertain self, it’s on Him to start acting out the extrinsic behaviors of a winner and Then other people will totally start respecting him, is how this works lol....that it’s cringe for winston to Say he’s good at what he does & is valuable, b/c umm if you were Really valuable then the Natural recognition of that & corresponding positive treatment would Of Course have already manifested, and since it hasn’t, he isn’t Really deserving, and since he’s claiming to be deserving, that’s also proof he’s out of line being aggressive & arrogant like that. that it’s Also like, cringe & even crass of him to mention like, yeah i’m hoping to get paid here lol, again you’ll Of Course be paid as much as you want if you Deserve it, but if you deserve it you’ll actually mostly talk about being here and wanting to Win at it for cooler reasons, b/c ppl who are winning / more powerful than you in Whatever realm have those benefits that have just spontaneously & naturally been afforded to them b/c they deserve them more On Merit, and meritous people Are better than those beneath them and thus Will seem epic. and in the same way that ben kim seeming Too Nice can be handily interpreted as a “positive” (without truly challenging any negative assessment) or a negative, it’s like, oh winston’s Also undeserving b/c of the fact his outfit was uniquely significantly cheaper on the burn rate rundown, it’s actually Cooler to have your undershirt cost a thousand bucks, it’s costlier b/c it’s better, you buy the better clothes b/c you Deservingly have the money and thus also have the Deserving tastes to want the pricier shit. yet it’s like, cue a post of yore mentioning like analysis of agatha christie’s writing where like, oh the nouveau riche’s personal fashion & decor choices are always a bit too indulgent & overdone, vs. the refined elegant restraint of those with True Class(tm), when really any trend where Not going as ham with adornment/decoration was “better” / a signifier of properly noble Old Money was a reaction to flashier stylings Becoming more common / attainable for the less established rich / Less rich, period....the way that an identity that is defined by / requires Othering people will always have to react Against what everyone else is doing so long as that association is relevant in the cultural consciousness. ugh women do that, so it’d be too Effeminate of men, so men shouldn’t Want to do it anyways b/c they’re too inherently epic in the ways that make them better than women already, & if they Do, it’s some artificial corruption....anyways, it’s that if someone Undeserving were to indulge in pricey shit, that’d be a veneer to compensate for the insecurity of how they don’t Truly Deserve fancy shit (which wouldn’t look like deliberate flashiness anyways, of course. simply The Taste) but if they were to rather be sticking to too pedestrian / inexpensive shit, that’s Also about the insecurity of how they don’t Truly Deserve fancy shit / indication that they lack the Taste to even Know how to want better, and the best they could do is an identifiably lesser mere Imitation of what better ppl choose for themselves
meanwhile shoutout to how, of course, if winston is being treated badly on an individual interpersonal basis, that’s exactly in line with All Of This lol. he deserves it, if he deserves better He has to make the change, and in the meantime since that Bootstraps Narrative is justification for things being the way they already are, conveniently anyone else can keep getting whatever they get out of another person being so diminished as to not Deserve to be regarded as & treated as a person in the way that they do....autistic employees “making up for” their being autistic by working harder, Anyone working harder (ben kim) b/c surely that’s the only way to get a raise or promoted or not fired & if you don’t jump into the ring of like compensation negotiation & win (ben kim) then you don’t deserve the raise, conveniently....you Do have to walk away & Prove that you can do better, taylor Should Have Had To Do All This actually, even though probably mafee wouldn’t Really argue that directly, wild how whatever you say that’s a Negative about winston / sabotages any effort of his must, flexibly, be true & fine....if we thought Some People didn’t inherently deserve the increased vulnerability to harm in various manifestations, then that’d have enough reverberations that wouldn’t be contained to “maybe stop being like this to your coworker,” and in the meantime we can all just Tell that winston sucks & thus he brings it upon himself & the Rewards that people get for what they’re actually bringing upon him >>>> winston having a more tolerable time, not to mention that actually it’ll Help him in the end if, to make the punishment stop, he finally decides to deserve Better by improving himself, bootstraps time, [become nondisabled] style
oh and addendum too about like [any begrudging acknowledgment that winston perhaps Does have value tied to an especial individual talent] wherein it can be like ugh This asshole got in on a Technicality, he can crank out this coding or whatever but that’s Mechanical rather than something any of us need to attribute to an Inherently Deserving Human Interiority and like be impressed with or admire or respect or some shit like that, he’s basically cheated to get be here & so long as he isn’t forced out we can at least Use him. feel free though to be a complete asshole to him for real
#another blogger moment of just saying some shit. probably other specific examples i meant to bring up but didn't#i mean it's the Entire intrinsic / extrinsic thing lmao. operating under a premise that there Is an objective hierarchy of Intrinsic Worth#(or characters are; mostly; but if it wasn't a common irl assumption / ideology too then idk uh [encompassing gesture])#and wherein it's like. questions of ''do you actually think Anyone would deserve [xyz] treatment even if they supposedly were thee worst''#and ''do you think [xyz] should be done to people b/c the Suffering therein is supposedly good for them actually''#like regardless of anything winston does (which like...is mostly withering & coding in the corner...what) it's like#if it's so intolerable then fire him? is it actually chill for rian's dynamic w/him to be somewhere around [his bully] or [abusive friend]#like At All much less even if she's the most awesome winning sympathetic person in the world & he's some asshole who sucks at everything#and even perhaps if she's getting anything out of it. even perhaps if you also dislike winston / think he Could & Should be different....#imagine wendy brings the attempts at systematic aba for real l o l (wretched) (she also brings it organically anyways)#winston billions#and whatever all's going on here....who knows. a blogger saying some things. your guess is as good as mine#tfw ppl think ppl are just desperate to Read Into the least shit abt themselves & Self Dx As Autistic For Clout / how ohhh disabled ppl need#Special Treatment out of Sympathy/Pity / ohhh disabled ppl are actually all asking too much of us all & using Excuses....#certainly easier to Not actually fundamentally question &/or alter your understanding of the concept of disability#like no i will Not conceive of the fact that making eye contact during a convo is not a universal human behavior hinging on basic respect#to look away isn't neutral or to help someone actually listen to you better. e.g. being autistic Has to be An Excuse(tm)#adhd would be Solved by me if only they all cared as much as i do where Choosing To Remember = Remembering. excuses excuses#winston as a Totally Objectively offputting asshole doesn't deserve basic respect as a person; nor as a colleague / coworker / employee...#he definitely deserves the punishment to Specifically Not have casual acquaintanceships; friends; lovers; partners; family is saddled w/him
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Can I... talk about the theory that winners help craft the next game?
Because, and I really can not say this enough, it puts So Much into perspective.
Everything starts out Normal. Three lives, simple, cut and dry, there hasn't been a winner yet. No one to help craft the game. (And there's something to be said about how simple it really was. Not even a real expectation of the world becoming pvp or combative. No idea of the war to come)
Then Grian wins. The green killer, the man who vowed his first life to the one whose life he took. The next game the boogie man is born. A mechanic that allows and, in fact, demands, a green kill. People can trade lives back and forth, currency and debt wrapped up in one. (can we still be friends? Said the red partner. A life time later and reds are hostile, alone. Maybe it's an answer: No. Not anymore)
Scott wins this time. He refuses to play the game. He will not kill his team, he will love and he will do so fiercely and with all of himself. The next game people are attached through to their very souls. Every bit of damage to one soul is done to its twin. There is no boogeyman. (There is no way for a widow to be left without their love)
Pearl wins and she wins a blood bath. Spent the game draped in red, only wolves for company. Sitting in her tower, shivering in ice, maybe she wanted it to end. To see where it would. Limited life rewards you for killing, limited life has a clock tick tick ticking down, you always no how long you have. A curse yes, but a blessing too.
Now It's Martyn's turn.
And what a turn it is.
Keep your secrets, says the disloyal man, keep them well. Everything hurts, everything Matters, says the man fracturing with every loss. (What if we could love each other without hurting? Says The Hand, who never wanted to be coated in blood)
More importantly, Martyn has always seen the watchers below the surface. Now, they're right here in front of him. Something that could almost... be rebelled against, no? Something that someone else could finally point to and say: hey, hey isn't that familiar?
#Also funny that most winners have an immediate problem with the game following#Grian being given only two lives at the start#Scott breaking up with his soulmate#Martyn pulling an absolute Wet Cat and failing miserably at secret life#Pearl did fine#limited life#life series#secret life#trafficblr#grian#scott smajor#martyn inthelittlewood#pearlescentmoon#3rd life#last life#traffic life#ignore the number of parenthesis#and also tags
11K notes
·
View notes
Text
How’d they react to you calling them bro or dude whilst in a pre-established relationship…(platonic/romantic)
Dick: he’s insulted.
Gutted.
He will try to give you the silent treatment for such a shameful thing but ultimately fails as he ends up being the one pawing at you for attention.
‘Do you still like me? Or did you just run out of cute nicknames to call me?’ He’d say one night as your both cuddling in bed together. ‘If it’s the later then I can help you find something, just please spare me and don’t call me dude or bro anymore.’
He’d rather you call him Richard-wait, no he hates that even more because to him you’re not meant to use his fully name, only cutesy nicknames that’d make a grown man sick to his stomach. Nothing else would suffice other than Dickie bird, handsome, babe, hunk, honeybun or anything that wasn’t his name.
He’s go mad or would act delusional and say that everything was fine when everyone could tell that it wasn’t. People who know him have personally came to you and begged you to stop calling him dude/bro because he kept talking their ears off about how his beloved partner is torturing him, which ends up torturing them even more upon hearing about his relationship issues.
Dick would even consult Hayley on what he did wrong, only for Hayley to look at him with those big, big eyes of hers. This was not her level of expertise unfortunately. (Head empty, no thoughts. She can’t do her abc’s guys it’s a real tragedy.)
Jason: ‘I just had my tongue down your throat just now and you had to go and ruin the mood by calling me bro. What the fuck.’ - Jason at some point.
It’s a whole mood killer for him to be honest.
He’s calling you things like chipmunk or sweetheart but here you were calling him dude and bro. He knows for a fact that he’s well and truly out of the friend zone because the shit you’ve done together isn’t platonic in any sort of way.
Thinks Roy had set you up to call him dude or bro behind his back. (He hasn’t)
Jason is petty and will get his own back by referring you as ‘just a really good friend’, ‘buddy o’ mine’ or even worse than both of those; ‘chum.’ 💀
When you go low, Jason was more then willing to go to the depths of fucking hell to the point it had become a game to see who’d call out just how stupid this all was, and at the both of you for ever thinking that this was an excellent idea in the first place.
You’ll probs get punished…I’m just going to leave it there and let your minds guess what that ‘punishment’ was exactly.
Damian:
As much as Damian hates it when you call him Dami, he hates it when you call him dude or bro even more, if that’s even possible.
Damian hates it when you call him dude or bro. He’s not your dude or bro, he’s your partner and he expects no less then darling, my heart or my beloved.
So you calling him dude or bro is more than enough reason for him to give you the silent treatment.
‘Until you learn that I am your partner, I won’t want to be anywhere near you if you’re going to keep calling me your bro or dude. It is a disservice to who I actually am to you.’ He says with a huff and beckons Titus to follow, only for the Great Dane to be left confused as to why his human parents were at a disagreement over something silly.
Also Titus, Ace, Jerry, Alfred the cat, Goliath and BatCow are children of divorce because I said so.
So it’s bests that you apologise while you still can because Damian can hold a grudge unlike any other. Even if you didn’t, you’d still crack first before Damian and quickly put an end to calling him dude/bro.
He just thinks being called a dude/bro when in a pre-established relationship is an insult.
He can take a joke but not when it’s aimed at his relationship. He’s well and truly devoted to his relationship -if we’re to completely ignore the whole being Robin thing- that it might as well be an insult towards him too at this point.
#dc imagine#dc x reader#dc x you#dc fanfic#dc fic#dc comics x reader#dc x y/n#dc fanfiction#jason todd imagines#jason todd imagine#jason todd x you#jason todd fluff#jason todd x reader#dick grayson x y/n#dick grayson x you#dick grayson imagine#dick grayson imagines#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson fluff#damian wayne x y/n#damian wayne x you#damian wayne imagine#damian wayne x reader#damian wayne imagines#damian wayne fluff#dc fluff#nightwing x y/n#nightwing fluff#nightwing imagines#nightwing x reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Alastor - [ DEVOTION… PT.1 ]
xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxx xxx
[ NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ SLIGHT AGE GAP ] + [ ARRANGED MARRIAGE ] + [ BREEDING KINK ] - ( there’s a lot to unpack in this one, I know, but you’ll enjoy it.. also pls kindly lmk the artist for the fanart I used so I can tag them thx! )
xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxx xxx
Alastor Hartifelt was a fantastic husband.
No one could deny that.
Especially not his darling wife of one year and counting.
You, his sole companion during childhood, dawning from a rich family that occupied an estate near his family’s plot of farming land, and exceptionally infatuated with him early into your friendship.
From the very first time you met him out in the sprawling green meadows of Louisiana’s swamped countryside you found comfort in each other even amidst being ignored or teased by other children.
Their shared hatred and resentment towards you and the older boy cultivated an odd but strong bond between you two, and soon your strife to fit in seemed less appealing than being his truest friend.
Alastor immediately became protective of you, finding your shy nature welcoming like his own mothers, but also irritated by those who wished you harm for the simple fact that your family was better off than their own.
If anyone dared to pick a fight, tease, or berate you Alastor was right there to come to your aid. You’d tell him time and time again that fighting for you wasn’t worth it, that seeing him hurt wounded you more than their words, but for some baffling reason he’d never head your pleas.
Why?…
In retrospect Alastor wasn’t sure of the reason himself but he was certain it had something to do with the way you returned the favor by protecting him in your own subtle ways.
Your arms remained wide open when he needed an embrace, voice full of tender understanding when the two of you held quiet conversations late into the evening, and generally being his safe place when the rest of the world refused to be.
You were his darling from the very beginning…
His everything…
Yet, Alastor wouldn’t dare say it aloud..,
The two of you couldn’t be more different to those who observed your relationship from the outside. Alastor held an air of confidence wherever he went, suave, and well mannered. He could be cunning when provoked, dangerously charming to get his way, and refreshingly decisive under any amount of pressure.
A man every woman in New Orleans wanted, craved even, but it was well known the famous radio host had you at his side.
You, the city’s undisputed princess, daughter of a wealthy businessman, but regarded as the furthest thing from a ‘spoiled brat’. It was expected for those in higher circles to have sour and condescending attitudes but you proved to be different. Soft spoken, interested in the arts more than being out on the town, and some might’ve considered you ‘sheltered’ in terms of upbringing.
The contrast between Alastor and yourself brought about many whispered rumors and questions.
“How’d a sweet little thing like her end up with him?”
“Doesn’t he want someone better suited? Whats so special about her?”
“I hear, he married her for the fathers money. Don’t blame him for it either…she’s a real peach…”
“A little young for him don’t you think? She’s a lovely broad though…”
You’d heard it all. Every sort of rumor or piece of gossip people had to offer you’d picked up on rather quickly and at first it bothered you, but overtime seeing Alastor act indifferent to the scandalous comments made you less weary of them.
He’d never entertain the scrutiny, choosing to remind you his decision to marry wasn’t fueled by any ill will and as his wife you’d never need to worry about him caring for you.
Alastor’s always had, even when he’d left New Orleans to build his career he still thought of you from time to time, but that’s all he’d ever done.
Cared for you…
Love seemed to allude his spectrum of emotions and vocabulary. Yes, he shows you affection, buying expensive gifts, making sure you never lifted a finger for anything other than cleaning or cooking when needed, and proudly showing you off on his arm at parties and social events he attended.
Yes, he strived to hide his murderous tendencies, taking extra lengths to shield you from his ‘hunting’ escapades by planning them weeks before, and then going as far as discreetly cleaning his bloody clothes and weapons the night he returns while you slept soundly in your shared bed.
Alastor took great care in showing you he cared but defining his love for you was never addressed.
Not even on your wedding day.
It was as if he’d scripted his vows to say nothing of the emotion and even avoided saying “I love you” back when you’d accidentally let it slip out during your own speech for him.
You hadn’t pressed the issue at all, knowing Alastor struggled with concepts of intimacy and devotion since childhood, but the lmawing teeth of doubt pricked your skin harder with each passing day of your marriage.
Had you made a mistake agreeing to marry him?
Was he seeing someone else?
Someone knowledgeable of the world, maybe more experienced in life than you were, or more attentive?
Was she prettier?
Were you not his kind of woman?
Where did he go so late at night, at random times of the month, with a leather bag in his hand and a wide smile on his face?…
Had Alastor been seeing another woman for a whole year and you were just too oblivious or infatuated to notice?
Did he even like you anymore? Could he ever love you…?
Were you not enough for him?
Thoughts plagued your mind constantly, causing you to be quieter than usual, and less receptive to Alsstors lingering presence.
Your back was to him, giving a good veiw of your small frame as you cooked in the large kitchen. The familiar sight brought a smile to Alastor’s face. You were so focused, hair tied back by a white silk bow, and a sheer floor length robe to match.
He’d bough both for you only a week prior, claiming he couldn’t just let the items sit in the display window when you’d been staring at with such bright stars in your eyes, but in truth Alastor had imagined you wearing it just as you were now and couldn’t resist buying it on the spot.
Your husband remained silent as he watched you waltz around the kitchen, chocolate brown eyes peering over the top of his glasses as he did, but his smile faltering seeing the distress in your delicate features.
You weren’t the type to frown often, always emitting warmth and sweetness, so the rare appearance of anguish in your expression perplexed Alastor.
What had upset his darling wife?
Who would he have to kill?….
Asking what was troubling you would surely give him answers to both questions.
He stepped forward, coming from round the corner to enter the kitchen fully before striding over to stand by your side as you began to mix what he assumed was dessert in a bowl.
Albeit, he was probably right knowing you had a vicious sweet tooth.
“Strawberry cake I presume?” Alastor finally speaks, making his presence known with a cheeky remark, and you nearly jump out of your skin hearing his silky voice resonate around the room.
Your head snaps up to look at him, eyes wide with slight surprise, but they quickly soften as he smiles. A blush creeps onto your cheeks as he steps closer, initiating his usual habit of brushing a stray strand of hair from your face before kissing your temple gently, and only pulling away when you squeak out a greeting back to him.
“H-hi Al…you’re home a bit earlier than I expected…” you swallow thickly, staring at him adoringly for a moment before lowering your gaze as tinges of guilt build in you. “I’m sorry dinner isn’t quite ready yet…” you whisper, feeling shameful, and more agitated with yourself than before. Alastor had and would never berate you, unlike most men of the time he saw no benefit in treating his wife like a slave, and made an effort to remind you not everything had to be perfect.
“It’ s alright, darling. You needn’t rush yourself,” his voice is low, simmering with reassurance as he lifts your chin with his thumb and pointer finger. You smile nervously as your eyes meet his again, his touch firm and electrifying all at once, and your tummy doing several flips when he smiles back at you.
Alastor studies your face, attempting to pinpoint the source of your masked sadness, “You seem…troubled, sweetheart. Is there something wrong?” His genuine question brings a shock to your heart, tongue going numb as you race to think of a believable reason for your dampened mood, “I…I just had a little mishap with this cake batter is all!..”
You step away from him, turning to face the semi clean counter with a false air of cheeriness surrounding you. The fear of sounding needy and demanding while telling Alastor the truth keeps you from being honest with him outright.
Fake it.
I shouldn’t worry him with my insecurities or doubts…
It might push him further away…
The whisk in your hand spins in tight circles as you focus on mixing the overdone batter, beginning to thicken itself more than necessary as you kept going, using the task as a distraction from Alastor’s keen observance.
Something was wrong.
He was sure of it now.
His eyes narrowed behind the circular glasses, hands finding your waist as he came to stand behind you, allowing his chest to press against your back, and his head lowering to tuck into the crook of your neck.
A shiver racked your body as he exhaled a long, steady breath onto your skin. Your hands faltered, flurried movements becoming lax as you froze in his embrace, “When’d you start lying to me, ma chère…” Alastor mumbled into your ear. Every nerve in your body was on alert, shocked that he’d went much further than his usual bounds of physical affection, but pleasantly delighted he’d given it to you.
“M’ not lying,..”you try to uphold your lie through rising pants, tempted to moan quietly feeling his lips graze behind your ear, neck, and bare shoulder while your robe shifted lower. You weren’t certain if Alastor was inching it down by his own accord or your subtle squirming against him was to blame.
The ending result was the same either way. Your upper body gradually becoming exposed to his leering gaze and the cool air. Alastor hummed, the sound rumbling deep in his chest and flooding your mind repeatedly as he placed chaste kisses on your neck.
“I wish I could believe you, darling…” he chuckled lowly, hands inching towards the lace ribbon keeping your gown tied shut, and with one gentle tug he rendered the fabric useless. “Al..” you whined in slight surprise as he snatched the ribbon off, letting it unravel into a small pile on the tile floor before sliding his cold hands up the expanse of your heated torso.
Nothing.
You were wearing absolutely nothing underneath the thin robe and Alastor audibly groaned when he realized it.
Had you planned on this?
Were you just waiting for him to venture further with you?
All this time he’d watched you frolic and pace around your shared home, wondering what was hidden under you seemingly modest clothing….just to find you wore nothing at all…
Oh, what a rare occurrence it was for him to be such a blind fool.
Your hands flew to grasp Alastor’s wrists as he held you tighter, kneading your soft flesh lovingly, and taking his time to admire every dip and curve you had to offer him.
“Al…please..” you begged, visibly shuddering as he nipped at your neck and played with your breasts. “I won’t go any further until I hear the truth from that pretty mouth of yours, sweetheart…”
Damn it….you cursed yourself, slowly losing the will to think as his lips found the most sensitive area on your neck, bruising it with his tongue teeth until you whimpered and rushed out a jumbled explanation for your heavy mood.
“I…Imscaredyoudomtlovseme…th-that you d-don’t want me- Ahm…” you soft voice reached a new octave as your husband slid his free hand between your thighs to cup your mound, gingerly kicking your legs apart with a nudge of his foot against your own, and you tensed all over as he did so.
Fuck, he could definitely feel how desperate you were now, essentially a mess already without Alastor doing much of anything, and embarrassingly unable to control your arousal.
“Love, hm? That’s what’s troubling your precious mind?…” Alastor mulls over your confession, able to maintain his composure despite heat rushing straight through him to the head of his cock as he slid two fingers into your dripping cunt. You jolted from the sudden intrusion, head lulling back to rest on his shoulder as he pumped them in and out of you at a leisurely pace, curling his deft digits fowvard every so often to make you shiver.
His thumb found your clit, pressing defined circles into it as he began to ease your worries, “Love, ma chère, isn’t what I feel for you..” Alastor lets out a soft laugh, trying to calm his own mind before clarifying his vague statement all while pushing you near the edge of your first high.
“No….I feel much more than love for you, my dear. Devotion is a better term…obsession at times…” he admits the darker side of his affection through heavy breaths, cock twitching in his dress pants when you mewl in understanding. Your warm cunt suffocates his fingers for a moment, walls fluttering as the knot in your core threatens to undo itself, causing Alastor to sharply exhale from the inviting fluctuations.
Your lips parted to warm him of your impending orgasm but only a strained moan tumbled off your tongue. Alastor needed no other sign to tell if you were close, inwardly prideful he could make you come with ease.
“Go on, come undone for me , darling,” he insists in a hushed groan, his fingers stretching your walls in a fluid rhythm to drag your climax out, and you could’ve tumbled to the floor from the sheer intensity of the knot inside you snapping on his command.
Thankfully his taller frame kept you securely trapped between him and the counter that you soon found yourself sitting on the edge of after Alastor slipped his hand away from your throbbing cunt.
You watched with a dazed eyes as the older man licked a stripe of your cum off his fingers, brown eyes sliding shut as he let out a satisfied grunt before staring at your willing form perched on the counters edge.
The sight drew a his hidden hunger closer to the surface, toying with his self control as he took it in, and urging him to act on a primal instinct he’d only ever describe as “intense affection”.
Was that a flash of red in his eyes just now?
No , it couldn’t be…
You weren’t left much time to decipher the hungry glint in his eyes before Alastor reclaimed his position near you. His slender waist slotted perfectly between your thighs, the robe now draped off your back, and your hair gradually falling loose from its simple updo as his hands traced your sides.
“Love, sweet girl, is for lonesome fools…” Alastor pressed his forehead to yours, letting you chase his lips for one heated kiss after the next, and only denying you another to whisper against your soft and slightly swollen lips.
“Neither of us are alone or fools, correct?” He huffs as you nod slowly, bringing your hands up to undo his tie, and then proceeding to expertly unbutton his vest and dress shirt.
The general charm that Alastor maintained completely dissolved into pining under your gentle fingertips, an almost desperate shot of adrenaline consuming him as you peppered kisses along his jaw and neck.
If what he said was truly how he felt about you…it was enough to stamp out your doubts, allowing the adoring side of you he’d grown familiar with to resurface, “No…we aren’t,” you respond with a small smile.
He tips your chin up, placing a deep kiss on your lips as he shrugs his shirt and vest off, setting his glasses to the side as well before reaching for the leather belt on his waist.
You paid his actions no mind, busy with fighting his tongue for dominance, but admitted defeat quite fast as his wandered your mouth in expert fashion.
Your soft hands passed over his chest, moving up to tangle in his soft curls, gently tugging the strands to earn a groan from him. Alastor pulled back, a single line of spit connecting you two as he did so, and his hair falling in front of his eyes as he stared down into your tear glossed gaze, “You’re mine, ma chère. Til death and beyond…”
You nod, halfway coherent, but mustering the will to answer him with a content smile.
“Til death…” you repeat the phrase, mind reeling further from logical thinking as Alastor hummed hearing your dazed response, head nestled in your neck once more before he trailed open mouthed kisses down the expanse of your trembling frame. He brought himself as close as possible to you, smiling on your skin as you gasp quietly feeling his clothed erection press flush against your bare stomach, leaning further back in his hold embrace him better. You feared making a mess of the counter but as Alastor trailed his lips down your body and kneeled between your legs he gave one swift snap of his fingers to eliminate the obstacle entirely.
What?….How in the world did he do that?…
Your curiosity would’ve prompted you to ask him about the absurd occurrence if it weren’t for the anticipation rushing your blood as he came face to face with your cunt. “Alastor?…” you squeaked his name softly, attempting to close your legs when he sighed out a warm breath on your glistening folds, but he held them open using one hand with ease. The other resting steady on your waist, guiding you to lay back onto the cold marble countertop, and lingering there as you obeyed his wordless command.
“Good girl…” he praised, tone deepening as you whined quietly, the sound morphing into a loud moan as he lazily flicked his tongue over your slit once…twice…and a third time.
“More…” you pant in the midst of moaning, head craning to the side while your back arched and the urge to scream built in your chest as Alastor obliged your request with vigorous intent. He hummed melodically as your taste seeped onto his tongue, walls ever so sensitive as he explored them tirelessly, and a smirk playing on his lips as you writhed in pleasure.
Your face was soon flushed completely, eyes watering as they rolled slightly with each pass of his tongue over your cunt, and your small hands returning to tug at his soft brown hair. Another coil spiraled in your stomach hearing him groan in response, seeming to enjoy how roughly you pulled his hair, and his gaze drifting up for a split second to get a good view of your satiated state.
Seven hells….she looks even lovelier like this…
Alastor unconsciously drags you closer to his face, not caring at all when you lock your legs around his head and cry out from the borderline bruising hold he has on you now. “Oh god!…” you yelp, throwing him a bewildered glance before tossing your head back as he lapped at your clit like he’d starve to death without it, and the relentless attention to your bundle of nerves was the last thing you could comprehend before the knot unwinded itself.
Your vision blurred over, everything starting to spin as your cum gushed into his mouth, and the tears you were fighting to hide slid freely down your face as he downed every single drop your body offered.
It was all too much, the hunger in his eyes, his hold on you, and your high that never seemed to subside even as he broke away from your cunt with a satisfied smile on his face.
It was all too much at once….
Your head buzzed with euphoric afterthoughts, incoherency daring to cloud your senses entirely, but the sound of Alastor’s voice near your ear successfully halted the sensations long enough for you to comprehend what he was saying.
“You taste divine, ma chère…” his musing flusters you, a light shade of pink coating your cheeks as he dips his head to steal a kiss from you, “Al…” you sigh into his mouth, biting back a keen smile, and wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him near.
He chuckles hearing the unsteady tremor in your tone, adding onto his compliment after capturing your parted lips in another deep kiss, “I presume you’ll feel just as wonderful with me inside you, sweetheart…”
His assumption proved true. So much so that the moment his cock passed through your slippery folds a heavy groan of your name was the first and only thing he could manage to say. “Y/n….mon amor…” Alastor held you underneath him, not daring to move without completely relishing in the way your cunt wrapped around him first, and your broken moans dizzying the last bit of self control he was clinging onto.
You tried not to seem overwhelmed, with your legs wrapped around his waist, and your hands cupping his face to keep him as close as possible while your body adjusted to his size. With furrowed brows and a soft smile you praised your husbands well endowed length as he finally drew his hips back, leaving nothing but the head his cock resting in you.
“You…feel…s’good….” You whisper, breathless as he slams back in, swallowing your pleased cries with one tender kiss after the next. He tasted like you, hints of bourbon lingering on his tongue from the drink he’d poured himself before leaving the station, but your essence more prominent than ever.
All that he was, all that he did, and would ever do revolved around you.
His darling wife…
His one and only….
It showed through the sweet phrases he muttered against your lips as he took his time to please you, pace slow and deliberate, but the execution precise and cutthroat.
You weren’t sure when you’d raised your voice, crying out louder as he abused your sweetest spot continuously, and only going silent when a inaudible scream begged to leap from your chest while his cock bullied into cervix. Stars collected in your vision, hands clawing at Alastor’s back as you tried to hang onto reality for dear life, but failing miserably when he sped up his thrusts.
A subtle laugh passed his lips, eyes glinting with greedy lust as your head flew back, exposing all the love bites he’d left on your delicate skin, and the sight caused his cock to twitch inside you.
“F-fuck….Al!” Your eyes watered once more, sliding shut as a familiar pressure built in your core, rapidly gaining density the longer Alastor fucked into you.
He groaned at the sound of you shouting his name in such a twisted mix of ecstasy and anguish. Your soft voice becoming tainted with an edge he’d never imagined it could have. “Close already, my dear?..” he teased you, smile as smug as ever as he stood up straight, hands gripping either side of your hips, and his gaze lowering to where you two connected.
“Look…at…that…” he mused, suddenly slowing his thrusts to a painfully harsh pace, fixated on the way your cunt continuously creamed on his length. Alastor bit his tongue to keep from growling at the view, barely registering your whines and pleads for him to go faster.
“Al…Alastor…please..m’ begging you…please…” you felt your thighs shake as he continued his lazy strokes, clearly wanting to drag the ordeal out for his personal entertainment, and his lack of sympathy for your plight in that moment edged you even closer to cumming.
He knew it too…
That infamous grin on his face as he watched you resort to quiet sobs and desperate moans was a sure sign of the fact…
Alastor knew you needed him, loved him, lived for him..
“Please what, mon chere?” He bit his lip, unhooking your legs from around his waist to push them to your chest, giving his cock a new angle to stretch your cunt with.
You felt like passing out then, all strength evaporating from your body as he reached places inside you that surely didn’t exist before. His taunting didn’t make your dazed state any better, “Please, ruin you? Please, love you?… Let me hear you loud and clear, darling..”
Before you could register the words they flew from you mouth in a hushed flurry of need.
“Please…love me…fuck me like you love me…use me…I don’t care anymore…”
Alastor immediately rewarded your answer, wasting no time as his hips snapped into yours feverishly, flooding the kitchen with the sound of skin against skin.
“Lovely…” he cooed, voice thick with tension as he stared down at your overstimulated form, and within seconds of the praise slipping off his tongue you came undone. He followed shortly after, not caring to ask where you wanted his release, and you made no protest as the warm white liquid spilled inside you.
All you could do was stare, mouth falling open as he fucked his cum deeper, “It’s high time you became a mother, mon chere. You’d like that wouldn’t you?..” Alastor rambled, hardly coherent as his high coursed through him, but his statement crystal clear to you.
“Yes…” you whimper in response, walls clenching his cock as the thought of carrying his child sprung into your mind. “I’d love it…Al.”
His heart nearly stops as a genuine closed eye smile graces your face, a light blush painting your cheeks as he kisses them gently while gingerly slipping his softened cock out of your leaking heat. Alastor then lets your legs fall, lifting you to sit up straight on the counter again before wrapping his arms around your waist.
You hang onto him for balance, feeling entirely small in his grasp, and finding comfort in the embrace as exhaustion trickles in.
Alastor breathed in your sweet scent, beginning to pull your robe back on your tired form before reaching for his dress shirt. He was careful not to stir you away from his chest as he shrugged the clothing back on
“I’d love you and our child more than anything…” he nonchalantly mumbles, kissing the top of your head, and chuckling when your tied eyes go wide with undeniable hope.
“More than anything?…”
“Anything, my dear…” he repeats himself with a soft smile, bringing a hand up to push fallen strands of hair from your face.
That was when it occurred to you…
Alastor Hartiflet could love…
He’d always been able to….
And he loved you enough to share it with another…
How surreal….
xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxx xxx
This entire 1st part was brought to you by the Great Gatsby movie soundtrack…❤️ you’re welcome… ;)
[ BONUS CONTENT + ]
Actually it MIGHT BE 12 inches if we are being honest… ❤️ credits to creator.
#Spotify#alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor headcanons#hazbin hotel alastor#human alastor#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel headcanon#alastor fluff#alastor hartfelt#alastor smut#alastor the radio demon#the radio demon#hard thoughts#alastor x reader#alastor x you#hazbin alastor#alastor x oc#alastor human
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
well, i'm still in love with you !!!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which their fall-in-love-again era is them soft launching each other while driving their friends wild.
or
for when you're still in love with them and will be for forever. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚
social media au // charles leclerc x fem!reader
prequel - saw ur mom at the grocery store ·˚ ༘
warnings - language. suggestive jokes (???)
author's note - im so SORRY for not updating life is CRAZY rn like ???? so much has happened like im in LOVE im DONE with SCHOOL i have EXAMS SJSHSJSJKSKS im so sorry i hope u like this i love u all <3
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
liked by lewishamilton, carmenmmundt, lilymhe and 1,725,819 others
yourusername he's in my head so much i might as well just give him some
11,628 comments
username HOLD UP
username im shaking in my big girl boots rn what the Fuck
username y/n ?????
username SCREECHING
username roman empire or roman empire
username IM DYING OH MY GOD
landonorris just because you can type something doesn't mean you SHOULD
-> yourusername shut up u literally sprouted like an unwanted weed and not even the good kind
-> yourusername i am sorry that was mean
-> landonorris 😕
-> username someone keep these two away from each other before y/n makes lando cry 😭
username live love laugh y/n y/l/n
username i need cameras recording their whole vacation !!!!!!!!!
username this whole holiday will be so much more entertaining than 90% of all the tv shows out there 😭😭
username lord i pray that this is about charles
maxverstappen1 you didn't hear it from me but he's giggling
-> yourusername tell him to stop giggling and help me chase those seagulls away
-> landonorris LEAVE MY SEAGULLS ALONE
-> yourusername THEY ATE MY SANDWICH
username rip y/n's hater girl era u will be missed 😞☝️
username i know charles is thoroughly enjoying this like
username i will get over a lot of things in life but i will never get over lando and max joining the y/l/n-leclerc vacation simply because they do not trust charles to do the sensible thing
-> yourusername actually they're all dumb
-> maxverstappen1 excuse you
-> yourusername u called grey "dark white"
-> maxverstappen1 I PAID TO KEEP QUIET
-> yourusername blocking out the haters 🫸🙄🫷
username forever entertained by this group they never disappoint
username need me a max and lando to get me a bf or whatever 🙄🙄🙄
username waiting for charles to come here and say some stupid shit before going on with my day !!!!
charles_leclerc i bet u think about me
-> yourusername nah bc no way ferrari can make u THIS delusional what's the cause
-> yourusername i am sorry i was told that i cannot say shit about ferrari clown private limited whatever corporation
-> username please never change
charles_leclerc i will make u pasta !!!!!!!!
-> yourusername no thank u i saw what happened to arthur
-> charles_leclerc THAT WAS NOT MY FAULT THE PASTA WAS NOT GOOD
-> yourusername skill issue
charles_leclerc where r u
-> yourusername why r u typing like that
-> charles_leclerc lando said it's cool
-> yourusername lando thinks birds don't have feet don't believe him
-> landonorris why am i catching strays
username WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THE FACT THAT CHARLES LIED TO GET MAX AND LANDO ON VACATION 😭😭
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
liked by carlossainz55, pierregasly, landonorris and 2,167,926 others
charles_leclerc we'd still worship this love
12,628 comments
username NAH WHO IS THIS MAN
username OH ??????
username false god lyrics imma die 🤣🤣🤣
username y/n effect is so real
username PLEASE NOT CHARLES SOFT LAUNCHING HIS EX 😭😭😭
-> username y'all put some respect on my girl's name 😭
-> yourusername i am no one's ex i will sue u for defamation
-> charles_leclerc for legal reasons she's JOKING
-> yourusername how do U know that tf
-> username i missed this
username hshshdjssjdjsjjsajjn;;;;;;;;bwywuuaj;...
username crying this is everything i've prayed for
username no one's mentioning the fact that charles wasn't even supposed to go on the vacation 😭😭😭
-> landonorris he booked his tickets and acted like it was a mistake
-> charles_leclerc you're a mistake
-> username and THAT'S how i know y/n and charles are back together 🤞🤞🤞
username i need a documentary on this vacation u don't GET it
username max and lando we trust u
maxverstappen1 you just pushed your love in water
-> charles_leclerc she told me i looked like tweety from looney toons
-> maxverstappen1 well
username crying i love every second of this
username i need to study this man's brain under a microscope like
-> username his thought process is just so UNIQUE
username i need them to confirm their relationship so i can breathe a sigh of relief thank u
username need me a man who posts like this
yourusername told u taylor swift songs slap
-> charles_leclerc highkey
yourusername i'm the most hilarious person ever idk why ur mad
-> charles_leclerc you called me tweety
-> yourusername hilarious
-> charles_leclerc my lover's got humour
-> yourusername OMGGGGG
yourusername we might just get away with this
-> charles_leclerc i told you, if you commit murder i will NOT be an accomplice
-> yourusername those are lyrics but fuck u too i guess
username i prayed for times like this 🤞🤞
≡;- ꒰ °instagram stories ꒱
charles_leclerc added to their instagram stories
≡;- ꒰ °twitter ꒱
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, carmenmmundt and 1,972,628 others
yourusername well i'm still in love with u 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄 (❤️)
tagged charles_leclerc
comments are disabled for this post
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, pierregasly and 2,126,891 others
charles_leclerc 2 out of 262819 photos where she stole my phone and the one (1) photo with me in it like okaaaaaaaaaay (🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥💯💯💯💯💯💯🥶🥶🥶🥶🥶🥶🥶‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️)
tagged yourusername
12,728 comments
username NAHHH WHO TAUGHT HIM HOW TO TYPE LIKE THAT
username PLEASE OMG
username andddddddd we're 🔙 to having charles have a breakdown every single time y/n (HIS GIRLFRIEND) interacts with him
username god heard my prayers
username why do i have a feeling lando and max went EXTREME
-> yourusername if u call pushing us both off the yacht and not letting us back on until we said "hiiiiii" civilly to each other extreme, then yes. they were EXTREME.
-> charles_leclerc still mad about it. i said "hiiiii 😍😍😍😍🥰🥰🥰🥰😘😘😘😘" and you said "hi 😐😐😐😐."
-> yourusername sorry i was too busy finding ways to poison u then ❤️❤️❤️ im good and better now ❤️❤️❤️ (police and officials LOOK AWAY)
-> username netflix needs to leave dts and document THIS
username someone should write a book on this vacation and it should be max ☝️☝️☝️
username WAR IS OVERRRRR
username they're BACK god bless
username the way i KNOW charles is thanking max and lando on his knees like homeboy would be stuck without them fr
-> danielricciardo excuse you i was the mastermind
-> landonorris you literally did nothing except sit on ft for hours and yell at us.
-> danielricciardo tell that to all those thank you texts (money) charles sent me
-> landonorris YOU TOLD ME NO ONE WILL BE GETTING PAID charles_leclerc
-> charles_leclerc i sent him $1 because heidi asked me to
-> heidiberger_ he threatened to fly out to italy i did everyone a favour
username the y/n effect is coming back with full throttle like yeaaaaaaaaah
username i need a trilogy on this vacation like i need EVERYTHING
username the way i KNOW both of their families just rejoiced like they were going through it 😭😭😭
username everyday i wake up and thank the lord and heavens for daniel ricciardo, max verstappen and lando norris
yourusername i look so good wtfff
-> charles_leclerc yes you do 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰
yourusername bébé ( baby )
-> charles_leclerc mon ange ( my angel )
yourusername soulmates 4 sure
-> charles_leclerc 👍
-> username lord i am not your strongest soldier
-> username why is he like this 😭😭😭
yourusername lowk missed taking 26271727 selfies on ur phone
-> charles_leclerc missed seeing your pretty face every time i opened my gallery 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔
-> username y/n never leave him again please
-> username my man's TRAUMATISED
#f1 x reader#f1 x female reader#f1 imagines#social media au#fake instagram imagines#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x y/n#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc imagines#charles leclerc instagram au#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 x y/n
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Whole thing on A03
It didn't matter how much Steve explained. Not one member of the Party was going to get it.
Tommy and Carol would, but then, they were no longer on speaking terms. A fact that hurt even if it was for the best--particularly in times like these, because they got it.
They understood how he had been ensnared with the very same wealth people mocked him for. What it meant when his parents demanded Steve drop everything and go on vacation, his own plans be damned.
They knew, because their families had done much the same, and so the lives they led also were tethered to leashes made of their parents' design.
Dustin, whose mother bent over backwards to try and better her kid’s life, didn’t even have a frame of reference for this kind of thing, let alone sympathy.
"Do they not understand you have a job?" Dustin asked incredulously, and Steve didn't have the emotional bandwidth to explain that his parents didn't consider working at Family Video to be a real job.
As far as they were concerned, Steve could quit if he had to, and then go find another job when they were done using him to play the nice, All-American family.
Likely for business purposes.
"They aren't the type to care." Steve said instead.
It was easier than getting into it.
(Easier than explaining the BMW wasn't in his name, but his parents.
How his money went into a bank account they had access to.
That practically everything he owned was actually owned by Richard and Stella Harrington, and both were quick to remind him of that fact the second they felt Steve was acting out of line.
And boy, had he been acting out of line.
Getting into fights.
Turning their punishment of working a job they picked specifically for the humiliating outfit, into the far worse public embarrassment of being involved in a mall fire--an embarrassment because Steve had "lost" the keys to the BMW, had "put himself in danger" playing hero instead of letting the perfectly capable firefighters do it, then “paraded around” with bruises all over his face, racking up medical bills.
Truly a sin for someone who hadn’t made it into college.)
So no, this vacation they demanded Steve drop everything for was not anything close to a reward, or even something they were doing to spend time together. There was a reason they needed Steve, and as far as they were concerned, Steve was at their beck and call until he shaped up and got his life back on track.
His own plans be damned.
"That's not fair though!" Dustin burst out and Steve sighed in relief, because here at least, he knew what to do to distract his younger friend.
“We planned our trip months ago!” Dustin continued, looking two seconds away from giving in and stomping his foot.
The kid might have been smarter than Steve--smarter than most people really--by a hell of a lot, but he was still fourteen.
Smarts, Steve knew, didn't exactly equate to emotional intelligence, and it definitely didn't stop rampaging hormones.
Ice cream on the other hand, was a great aid in both areas.
"You better be making this up to us." Dustin threatened thirty minutes later, spoon wedged deep into a sundae. “We can’t do, like, half the stuff we were going to do without you!”
“I'm sure you guys didn’t need me to play ghost runners or whatever.” Steve said, but was quick to back down when Dustin nearly threw his spoon at him.
Rather than antagonizing him more, Steve dutifully raised his hand to put over his heart. "I swear on your mom that I’ll make it up to you.”
Dustin rolled his eyes, but otherwise, finally, let the whole thing go.
Stupidly, Steve thought this meant the worst was over.
He was wrong.
xXx
Mike hadn’t cared.
El and Will hadn’t really either, though both expressed some sadness that Steve wouldn’t be participating in the camping trip that the Party as a whole had been looking forward to for the past few months.
Erica had simply snapped at him, making him promise much the same as Dustin had that he would be making it up to her sometime in the future. Likewise, she had been bought off by ice cream (even if she insisted it didn’t count because Steve owed her ice cream anyways.)
Max was the surprising emotional standout.
"You can't tell them no?" She demanded, arms crossed over her chest.
Lucas was hovering awkwardly at her shoulder, shooting "what can you do?" vibes as hard as he could at Steve as his (currently on-again) girlfriend outright dressed the elder boy down; her shoulders creeping up higher and higher until she seemed to realize she was visually giving away her upset and forcibly relaxed them.
Unlike Dustin and Erica, her tirade was very out of character and Steve was growing more concerned by the second that something was wrong the more she spat at him.
“I mean for fucks sake, didn’t you tell them you had plans!?” She finished, eyes narrowed in rage.
Which was rich coming from someone whose stepdad had Billy Hargrove running all over town before he’d run off after the guy’s death, but then, Steve knew better than to bring all that up.
(The image of Max, unresponsive in the hospital with casts on almost every limb, was still too fresh.
Even now he didn’t like to push her, even if the Party as a whole did their best to take notice when one of them was isolating themselves again.
Max, though she was down to one crutch, was still inclined to use it as a weapon and very much enjoyed practicing her swings on people’s ankles.)
“I did indeed. They don’t care and they’re not giving me a choice, but for what it’s worth I am sorry.” Steve tried to keep his voice even and out of angry-shrieking range, and vaguely prayed it was working. “I swear, I will make it up to you guys, even if we have to go on a second camping trip.”
This was clearly not the correct thing to say.
Though judging by the murderous rage being aimed his way, Steve was pretty sure nothing short of “You know what you’re right, let me go tell my parents to fuck off!” would make Max happy.
“So you’re seriously just going to drop everything, all our plans, your job, us,” She took a very threatening step forward and despite her being a full foot shorter than him, Steve had to fight not to take a responding step back. “So you can go play rich boy in the Bahamas?”
“We’re not going to the Bahamas--” Steve tried, but was interrupted with a loud “ugh!” of disapproval.
“Whatever makes you happy, Steven.” Max spat, and then turned on her heel, storming off towards the rest of the Party (who had taken one look at Max’s face and fled into the arcade so she and Steve could “talk.”) “I’m sorry us peasants weren’t good enough to hang around!”
“Sorry man.” Lucas apologized quietly, on his way to run after Max.
Steve just scrubbed a hand through his hair and sighed.
xXx
“The kids are mad at you.” Nancy announced, appearing across the Family Video counter like a phantom.
Steve swore, nearly dropping his stack of VHS’s, while Robin (who had clearly seen Nancy approach) cackled at his fumble.
“Yeah, I did get that memo.” Steve said, after he stabilized his stack, safely moving them from his arms to the counter.
Nancy peered around them, her face giving away nothing. “It is kind of shitty to cancel at the last minute like that. We were relying on you to drive.”
An old fury shook itself awake in Steve’s chest, taking an interest in the conversation the second Steve realized what Nancy was here to do.
He took a deep, shuddering breath, and pressed it down, back into the box he’d slammed it in all those years ago.
“I’d leave the keys to Robin here, but unfortunately, someone failed their drivers test.” Steve said instead, jamming his finger over his shoulder and blatantly attempting to pass the buck.
Robin, who absolutely knew that was what he was doing, faked a gasp and kicked at his ankles.
“That crotchety asshole failed me on purpose!” She protested, spinning to face Nancy. “He made like, three misogynistic comments before we even got in the car!”
“Pointing out that he knew the car wasn’t yours wasn’t misogynistic, he was just surprised to see me letting you use the Beemer.” Steve shot back, rolling his eyes. “I don’t exactly let a lot of people drive it.”
Unspoken was that Steve’s BMW was one of the town’s more unique cars, and thus easily identifiable by the locals at large.
“How is that better!?” Robin returned, but Nancy cleared her throat before they could successfully get the Steve-and-Robin show on the road.
“The point is that we--but really, the kids, were counting on you.” Nancy said, dipping into her patented “I’m upset with you” tone.
A year ago it would have cut Steve to the bone, even if he didn’t show it.
Now he just stared tiredly at her back.
“I’m sorry, Nance, but it is what it is.” He said simply, hoping the apology (even if he knew it wasn’t so much a real apology as it was something he said to keep the rage from breaking out and wrecking havoc via his mouth) would soften his ex. “I don’t know what else to tell you.”
Given the abrupt narrowing of her eyes, it very much did not help his case.
“For someone who was so vocal about trying to change I have to say this is pretty disappointing.” Nancy said simply, but with just enough of a tone that Steve had to close his eyes for a second.
Feel the way that old anger, the one that had powered King Steve, hit the bars of its cage.
Robin stilled immediately next to him, her head ping-ponging between Steve and Nancy both as she too, clocked that Nancy was pissed, and here to chew Steve out about it.
“Um.” She said, voice going high in discomfort.
Steve grit his teeth. “I don’t exactly get a say in these things, Nancy. You know that.”
He had to work to keep his voice even, fighting against the ice that wanted to sharpen his own tone.
It was just---Nancy did know.
Steve had told her all those years ago, in the safety of her arms, about his parents' expectations. Their predetermined path, the way they dictated large swathes of his life.
How they’d allowed him to pick which sports he played, but required that he play a sport no matter the time of year.
That the pool they had installed wasn’t for him, he just got to use it as much as he did in part because he’d joined the swim team, and the kind of mental mind games he and his parents played about things like that.
Apparently either Nancy had forgotten, or simply hadn’t taken it in to begin with because she wasn’t backing down.
(Not that Steve had ever seen Nancy Wheeler back down.)
“I know you have trouble juggling your parents' plans with your own.” Nancy said, and her tone was absolutely icy now. “I certainly remember waiting for a date that never happened.”
Steve sucked in a breath through his teeth, knowing immediately what Nancy was referring to.
“I told you they came home unexpectedly.” He said, arms now crossed against his chest, nails digging into his arms as a way to help himself stay grounded. “They wouldn’t let me use the phone until the next day and I apologized.”
“And I recall having a lovely conversation with your mother where she said otherwise.” Nancy said, her words punctuated by another high pitched “Uhhhh.” from Robin.
“Funny how you believe my mom over me.” Steve said and whoops, yup, he definitely sounded mad now.
So much for all the effort he’d put in to staying calm.
“Because I look at actions, Steve. Patterns. The same ones you kept repeating.” Nancy was clearly about to escalate, and Robin, bless her, had had enough.
“He-eeey.” She said, wedging herself in between Steve and the counter Nancy was starting to lean over. “I totally get it, you’re both upset, but this maybe isn’t the venue to fight about it? There are customers in the store and--sorry Nancy--but I do kinda need Steve for work, so…”
She trailed off, glancing nervously between the two of them.
Nancy took a breath, blasting it out of her mouth like an academically inclined dragon. “You’re right. I’m sorry Robin.”
She then turned on her heel, making her way to the doors. She paused before them, and Steve prepared himself because he knew whatever she was going to say next, it was going to hurt.
“I wouldn’t care if it was just me, Steve, but the kids don’t deserve you pulling this shit. Not after all they’ve been through.” With that, Nancy pushed through the door, head held high as she stormed to her car.
As was typical for Nancy’s aim, she scored a direct hit.
Steve, somehow, resisted throwing things.
“Can you believe her!?” He said, the second the doors were closed and Nancy safely out of eyeshot. “Coming in here like that!?”
He ran his hand through his hair, once, twice.
A third time for good measure.
“Yeah, that was seriously public for her.” Robin agreed, sliding up next to him. “Like really public.”
Steve shrugged, because well. Not really.
Not anymore.
But Robin didn’t know that, just like Robin wasn’t entirely familiar with the depths Steve’s parents went to save face. They hadn’t exactly had time to really dig into it all, given how fast the Vecna situation had hit after Starcourt and the sheer PTSD both incidents had caused.
Most nights they spent together was spent trying to avoid reliving nightmares, not discussing ones they were currently still living in.
A fact that Steve was more than happy to bring her up to speed on, but to do so involved a lot of backstory, and backstory involved Nancy, and God, he was fucking pissed at Nancy.
Soon it was an hour into his rant and he hadn’t actually gotten around to the sheer level of shit his parents would pull, too busy with Nancy and old echoes of ‘bullshit.’
He only stopped when Robin put a hand on his shoulder, shaking him ever so slightly.
“Dingus. You know I love you, and I know you’ve changed, but you do gotta admit, canceling at the last minute is kinda shitty and I get why they’re upset.”
It was like the carpet had been pulled right out from under Steve, yanked so quickly he’d have to pinwheel to keep his feet.
“What?” He said, eyes round in sheer surprise.
“I just mean like, I get your parents are dicks but,” Robin’s face screwed up, looking like she’d sucked a lemon. It was her “I’m going to say something you don’t like face” and it hit Steve like a punch to the gut.
“Our shift’s almost over and no offense, you’ve started to repeat yourself about Nance, and I get it! I do, memory shit is hard!” Robin’s hands moved as she talked, her bracelets jingling as if punctuating her point.
“But I also think admitting you double booked yourself on accident and just taking responsibility for it would help smooth things over. Middle ground, you know?” Robin waggled her hands in a gesture that, for the first time in a long time, Steve didn’t understand.
He found himself suddenly struggling to breathe.
“Are you--are you saying you think I didn’t tell them I had a trip already planned?”
Steve wasn’t sure how he managed to get it out. Wasn’t sure how he was doing anything, given the heat that was shooting through him, a hot mix of confusion and betrayal as Robin fidgeted to his left.
“No! Okay well,” The lemon face got worse for a second. “I’m just saying you did kinda forget to pick me up that one time, and you do kinda blame your parents when stuff like that happens.” She bit a nail, peering at him out of the corner of her eyes.
“I don’t--” Steve said, completely knocked adrift. “I…”
Robin didn’t believe him.
His Robin.
Who wasn’t--wasn’t exactly siding with Nancy, but wasn’t saying she was wrong either, or that she understood that this shit was out of his control, and in fact, was kind of implying that Nancy was right more so than Steve was and---and--
There was a ringing in Steve’s ears he wasn’t sure actually existed.
“I’m sure a lot of it is your brain injury. The doctors said your short term memory can take a while to fully come back and I totally get why you don’t wanna say that, I just, I think it would be better if--Steve?” Robin jumped back as Steve finally found his footing, swiping his jacket and punching out before she could catch how badly his hands were shaking.
“I’m leaving.” Steve told her, his own words a million miles away, entirely uncaring if Keith fired him.
Keith was likely going to fire him anyway, given Steve was about to ask for a week-long vacation not even four months after the whole Vecna ordeal.
“Wait, Steve, hey--Dingus! I wasn’t done, I mean, I had more to say I, dammit Steve--!” Robin called after him frantically as Steve bolted for the door.
Steve ignored her, aiming for the Beemer and swinging himself numbly into the driver's seat when he got it open.
Put the car in park and avoided Robin’s face entirely as he backed it out, punching the gas far harder than he needed to.
The Beemer roared in response, nose rising as it shot forward.
Robin was his best friend. His fucking--platonic soulmate, as she kept calling him. The very idea that she agreed with Nancy in general was a blow but in this?
Against his parents?
Nausea rolled angrily in Steve’s stomach, matching the sudden wetness that coated his eyes.
Angry and needing an outlet, Steve stomped hard on the gas, taking the next corner far too sharp and making the beemer fishtail, tires squealing .
He didn’t know where he was going.
He figured he’d find out when he got there.
xXx
Given what Steve knew about the universe at large, (nevermind Hawkins) it probably wasn’t the smartest thing to hang around the Quarry at night.
But then, summer was in full swing. Kids were home from college and itching to find a place to party without parental overhead.
Deep to the left side of the water, around a few bends and tucked oh so neatly out of sight, was a place where one could do just that.
Party.
This stretch had long been claimed by the college kids of Hawkins, and guarded zealously for it.
With the sheer number of drunk people whooping and hollering around the bonfires below the ridge where everyone parked their cars, Steve figured he was safe enough.
Even if he was up with said cars, sitting alone.
Not like it mattered. If a demodog or demogorgan or demo-fucking-dragon decided to come along, Steve had half a mind to just let it have him.
It felt easier than trying to fix the current mess his life was in.
So he sat up here, blowing through the alcohol he’d purchased from the one gas station that never carded, drinking his problems away.
(That also wasn’t the best course of action but with his parents home to spring the whole “vacation” ordeal on him, it wasn’t like Steve had a choice.)
He hadn’t grabbed a lot--had been so damn upset and struggling to hide it that he’d picked up a four pack of wine coolers instead of the intended beer he’d wanted. It was all he had though, and so he chugged the last bottle with a wince and wished he was a hell of a lot drunker than he felt.
Then promptly caught sight of the person walking towards him, and wondered vaguely if he was drunker than he felt.
Of all the people to come and offer him a can of beer, Steve would have never expected Tommy Hagan.
He eyed it and his old friend both, before slowly reaching out and taking the can.
“Heard you and your parents are doing CoHo this year.” Tommy said casually, leaning up against the front of the Beemer like it was old times.
“Yup.” Steve replied, drawing the word out.
“Angie Tideman’s parents are going, they’re bringing her ith .” Tommy said it casually, and had the good graces not to grin when Steve audibly groaned.
“Oh god.”
Tommy sucked on a lip, nodding absently. “Yeah.”
Then; “It gets worse.”
Steve, who now knew what this conversation was about, instantly began tearing into the beer can. “How can it get worse? You know what Angie’s like.”
Angie, whose full name was Angelina, lived a few towns over. Born to wealthy parents who doted on their beloved only child, Angie had more in common with your average shark than she did her fellow humans.
A comparison that, frankly, was unkind to sharks.
She was without a doubt the most selfish person Steve had ever had the misfortune of encountering, and the mere idea of being trapped in a room with her made his skin crawl.
Their parents were business buddies though, and god forbid he ever insult a business buddies kid,
“She goes to Purdue, you know, with me and Carol.” Tommy said, instead of answering directly. “We cross paths a lot, party wise.”
Steve stayed silent.
Knew how Tommy talked, how his stories meandered. Especially the juicy ones.
“She’s been talking a lot recently. Given you don’t look all that informed, I’m gonna assume the one person she hasn’t talked to is you.”
Steve gripped the can of beer, a sudden, sick fear blooming in his gut.
“Tommy.” He said mildly, not loud enough to really interrupt, but with enough force to let his former friend know to get to the point, now.
“Got all super fancy right before we left for summer break. Hair done, whole new wardrobe, nails, you know.” Tommy waggled his fingers playfully, but dropped them when Steve just stared. “Went full whore on us. I swear she was making out with any guy who even looked at her--”
“Tommy.” He repeated, this time a hell of a lot firmer.
Done pushing, Tommy let go of the proverbial bombshell. “Apparently you’re planning on proposing to her this summer. She’s gonna return next year as an engaged woman, with you in tow, because apparently, you got into Purdue. Congrats by the way.”
Tommy clapped him on the shoulder, right as Steve’s mouth went dry.
For the second time that day, he found himself fighting the burning heat of embarrassment and fury as it rolled through him.
“I’m proposing.” Steve said, as if saying it out loud would scare the very idea away. “To Angie.”
“Yeah we kinda figured you didn’t know.” Tommy said with a snide little grin. To the average outsider it was mocking, but Steve knew better.
Tommy was uncomfortable, because Tommy had understood what Steve’s parents had done.
“What I’d like to know is just how much Angie’s parents paid to get you into Purdue. That’s gotta be a minimum fifty thousand dollar donation at least.” Tommy removed his hand, to instead lean his shoulder against Steve’s. Like this was the old times, before they’d fought. “ I didn’t think they had that kind of money to throw around.”
A past conversation with his father struck Steve, running through the front of his mind like a bad horror movie.
“They sold the estate.” Steve said vacantly, the implications not quite hitting. “The one they’ve been trying to get rid of forever, over in Cape Cod.”
“Oh shit.” Tommy said, blinking as he too, recalled what was likely his father telling him the very same news.
“They sold the place on Cape Cod, and they used part of the funds to fucking buy me like a toy.” And yeah, saying it out loud, it definitely sounded bad. “I didn’t think Angie even liked me.”
“Does Angie like anyone?” Tommy asked, incredulously, but nudged Steve’s shoulder again when his joke didn’t net him the laugh he wanted.. “I mean, you had to know your old man had plans to straighten you out. He keeps getting mad at my dad, because the ass won't stop making jokes that I’m going to take over the company instead of you.”
“And this is it. Attaching me to Angie.” Steve said vacantly. “Because they know if I get married…”
He’d put his wife first. His family, first.
The one he’d wanted, dreamed of, since he first realized he didn’t have one.
He’d been playing checkers the entire time, too busy fighting fucking monsters and Russians to realize his parents had upgraded to chess.
In a dizzying array of mental connect-the-dots, Steve replayed the last years worth of conversations. All the odd little things they’d said. All the dumb things Steve had just ignored.
They’d warned him.
Had told him he better shape up, or they’d be forced to do something drastic.
That his parents hadn’t wasted all this time, effort, money on him, for him to throw away his life like he was.
“You better start acting right and figuring out how to get your life back on track, because you won’t like what happens if I have to fix it for you. You get a month Steven, and after that? Well. Just remember you forced my hand, Steven.”
They knew. They knew him, and what made him tick.
“I think the real question is what Angie’s parents see in you.” Tommy teased, but then they both knew the answer to that puzzle.
For all that Steve’s mom complained about her husband, the guy was a shrewd and calculating businessman. Those weekends, then weekdays, then more and more time away hadn’t just been so he could go screw his secretary.
Richard Harrington had fast tracked his business to the point where it was now getting attention. The business journal, ‘Top 50 Companies to Watch’ kind.
Even if Steve fucked up entirely, he was set to inherit a fortune and a business that would continue adding to it, for some time to come.
Provided he did what his parents wanted.
Such as marrying Angie.
Thing was, if his parents did what they always did, and held their wealth (his car, his home, his life and all the little things in it) against him like a gun to his head, if Angie got that ring around her finger?
Steve would bow to their whims.
Because they could fluster him into proposing so he didn’t embarrass Angie, and her parents and anyone else who’d undoubtedly be watching. They’d make a spectacle of it.
Because once he did propose, they wouldn’t let him back out, burying him under guilt trips and veiled threats until he was marched down the aisle in a groomsman suite and told to stand.
Because against all common sense, Steve wanted a family who loved him so desperately he’d chase it like a dog if he was presented with the opportunity and told to make it work.
It didn’t matter that Angie was selfish.
Steve would try anyway.
His parents were maneuvering him as easily as they had back when he was a kid, using love as a tool to get him to do what they wanted and even seeing the nose hanging from the rafters, they knew just the right words to get him to place it around his neck.
“Thought you’d wanna know.” Tommy finished, pushing himself off Steve’s car. “Before your parents sprung it on you.”
“Sonofabitch.” Steve hissed angrily, a million thoughts racing through his head, the heat of being caught in a trap blasting down his spine.
“Yeah.” Tommy added, rather unhelpfully. “But hey, given that you’re about to go on vacation to propose, why don’t we consider this,” here Tommy swept his hand, gesturing to the party below, “your proposal party?”
It was a downright horrible idea.
But then, Steve didn’t exactly have a better one.
Not when the world itself seemed against him, grinding its heel into his back and laughing about it.
He knew the drill. If he went down there, arm in arm with Tommy, then it wouldn’t matter that half those kids were from a few towns over, driven in by new college buddies.
They’d see him as a reason to get wild, absolutely uncaring that they didn’t know who the hell he was.
Steve needed that.
People who weren’t mad at him, buying into the easy lies his parents wove, or who didn't understand the games played against him.
“Fuck it.” He announced, standing up from the hood of his car as Tommy’s grin morphed into something he used to see in the days of old, back when they were sneaking drinks from their parents' alcohol cabinets. “This way at least I get a party.”
Not like his parents were going to let him have an engagement party. Or a bachelor party, or likely let his ass back into Hawkins.
No matter how long the engagement.
Tommy cheered, raising his arms to the sky and Steve grinned wildly with him.
He’d figure out how to get out of all this later--but for now, he wanted just a few damn hours where he didn’t have to think.
Not about his parents, or Angie, or possible attempts to force him into marriage, like this was the yee olden days and Steve was a Victorian maiden who needed to be brought to heel.
Likewise he didn’t want to think about the Party, or Russian torture, or how Nancy could be so damn smart in some things and downright stupid in others.
He absolutely didn't want to think about Robin.
“Hey boys and girls, look who I drug up!” Tommy yelled as they approached and soon, word had spread.
This was Steve’s proposal party, and he was here to get absolutely smashed (while encouraging everyone else to do the exact same, in his honor.)
Which would be how Eddie found him a few hours later.
Still at the quarry, crossfaded off his ass, a forty in one hand and a lawn dart in the other.
“Are you kidding me, Steve?” Eddie grit out, desperately trying to wrestle the lawn dart out of his hand. “You’re fucking partying with Tommy Hagan!?”
Steve blinked at him a few times, finally catching on that Eddie was in fact, actually there.
“When did you show up?” He asked, though given the wince on Eddie’s face and just how hard it had been to move his lips, Steve correctly assumed he’d slurred the shit out of the question.
Somehow, Eddie understood him anyway.
“Robin called me a while ago, gave me a list of places you might be. Almost skipped this one until I stepped out of my van to take a piss and heard the party.” Eddie explained, and somehow while doing so, he’d successfully gotten a hold of the dart.
He was now working on removing the 40 ounce.
Steve frowned, using his newly freed hand to grip it closer to his chest.
“Harrington.” Eddie warned, and oh, wow, they were back to last names huh?
Well why not, it wasn't like his night could get worse.
“This is mine, Munson.” Steve fired back, putting as much vitriol into Eddie’s last name as he could.
This did not detour the metalhead.
“Come on man, give me the bottle.” Eddie said firmly.
Steve shook his head stubbornly, enjoying the way his hair whipped at his face. “No.”
Another man stumbled over, a guy Steve absolutely did not know. He frowned, looking between Eddie and Steve.
For two seconds, Steve thought they might have trouble, and given the way Eddie was tensing, he clearly thought so too.
Instead, New Guy just kind of rocked on his heels. “Hey, shove off it, buddy. It’s this guy's bachelor party, let the man drink!”
Eddie’s face did something complicated then, pulling the sort of expressive looks only he could manage.
It was both adorable and hilarious, and if Steve hadn’t just been reminded of the very reason he was drinking, he’d have told Eddie so.
“Yeah!” He said instead, raising his hand in the air, toasting his bottle of forty against the other guy’s red solo cup. “It’s my proposalengagmentbachelor party!”
Given the second, adorable-slash-hilarious look on Eddie’s face, Steve assumed those words hadn’t come out right either.
“Okay.” Eddie said hands on his hips in a stance Steve was pretty sure Eddie had gotten from him. “Here’s what's going to happen. You’re going to put the bottle away. Then you’re going to give me your car keys, and then the two of us are going to my house to sleep whatever is happening here, off.”
At least, that's what Steve thought he heard. It was a pretty un-Eddie like speech, and Steve maybe, might have been the one to say it, because he maybe, might have been mocking what Eddie had actually said.
Maybe.
It was hard to know, given that Steve’s thoughts were a thick soup on a bit of a time delay, and he was having a hard time figuring up from down, let alone what Eddie had been actually saying.
Speaking of;
“When did I get into your car?” Steve asked, blinking as the van’s passenger seat appeared before him.
“Just now.” Eddie said, helping him in.
“Huh.” Said Steve, and then he maybe passed out a bit, because once again, he found himself awake and alert at a place that wasn’t where he’d just been.
“Come on.” Eddie said gently, one of Steve’s arms over his shoulder as Steve leaned heavily into him, guiding the jock up the stairs and into the small house he and Wayne now called a home.
The guy might have muttered a few things about bachelor parties along the way, but Steve was too focused on walking straight to really take notice.
Part Two
#lol remember when I said I wasnt posting parts to stuff until they were finished#THAT SURE LASTED LONG#pre steddie#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#0o0 fanfics#This is very Steve focused#TW his horrible parents#VERY hurt#comforts later#with eddie!#I really wanted to explore Steves Parents#in proper Rich Asshole Controling fashion#TW forced marriage#or mentions of#I also wanted to explore a lot of how the kids#and Nancy and Robin (who are also STILL kids#would react because sure they came up against monsters and the government#but neither of those things want you to like them#theyll let you know theyll eat you#Steves parents#like many rich dicks#want to isolate#want you to think theyre amazing#and its often the inner circle who knows whats up but are also caught in their own chokechain#hence the title of this fic#whiiiich is chokechain#stranger things#tw drinking
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
ALL MINE
🖇️ in which your drunk best friend turns into something more, perhaps?
🖇️ request from a lovely anon! had to wreck my brain on how to write it haha. send in an ask to lmk how i did!
🖇️ warnings: 18+ MDNI !! this is an nsfw work. its also 3.1k words long...
🖇️ lando norris x reader
It’s nearly two a.m. when you get woken up by a spam of messages from none other than your best friend, Lando.
Lando: Heeeeeeeyyyyyyyyyyy
Lando: Could uou please come pcik me up?
Lando: I’n a bit drunk hahaha
You giggle at his misspelt messages and type up a quick reply as you tug on a sweatshirt and sweatpants.
You: Yeah, where are you?
Lando: You jnow the club with the huge dj table? The one I love?
You: Be there in 10.
Lando: thank youuuuu ❤️
It’s a little silly how a red heart emoji is making you blush. Lando’s always been affectionate over text and in real life, so it's really nothing new. But, what definitely is new, are the feelings you have for him.
It took you three years of friendship to realise that Lando makes you feel happier and more loved than any of your ex-boyfriends ever did. He was there for you during all the break-ups and comforted you by delivering roses to your house every week. And he still does.
You look over at this week’s bouquet of roses on the bedside table of the hotel and smile at the note. ‘Much love, Lando.’ It reads, with the sloppiest yet cutest heart you could imagine drawn underneath it.
Lando’s always been affectionate, but maybe more so when it comes to you.
Everyone else on the grid noticed the way he looked at you and he never denied it when they asked if he liked you more than just a friend. You’d sit in a corner of the garage, tucked away from all the chaos of the mechanics and the roaring engines, but you’d still watch the races intensely. And, he’d be lying if he said that he wasn't doing better with you there.
When you’re on the paddock, it's almost like you’re Lando’s good luck charm. He ends up getting high spots on the pole each time you join him on the races and watch from the side. Or maybe it was the thought that when he finished the races, you'd be there waiting for him with your arms wide open to embrace him in a hug that felt like it wasn't platonic at all. Neither of you are sure if it was.
The cold night air hits your cheeks as soon as you leave your car. Maybe it wasn't the best decision to wear sweats to a club, but it's not like you’d be there for long. You text Lando that you’re there and wait for him to read the message, but he doesn't. You text Oscar, he replies in an instant.
You: Hey, are you at the club with Lando?
Oscar: Yes, he’s been whining for you. Are you here?
You: Yeah, I’m outside the club actually. Could you please ask him to come outside?
Oscar: Give him 5 minutes to gather his stuff.
You: Alright, thank you.
You nervously clutch your phone in your hand as you lean against your car. Something feels different about tonight. Sure, you were at the race and saw him kick ass out there. Maybe it was the fact that he placed fifth and was beating himself up for it.
Back at the hotel, before he left for the club, he was ranting to you about everything he could’ve done differently.
“I’m stupid,” he sighed, sitting down on the bed next to you and placing his head in his hands. “Could’ve been P3.”
“Hey,” you softly caressed his back as you spoke. “You were amazing out there, truly. It wouldn't take a genius to notice the potential you have. This year just wasn't your year, you’ll do better next season.”
By the end of your speech, Lando had pulled you into his lap and softly caressed your hair as you played with his. “You’re right.” He smiled, fondly. “I’ll do better next season, because I have such an amazing girl like you by my side, hm?” He softly caressed your cheek and you nodded, smiling at him.
Your thoughts get cut off by the sound of Lando and Oscar talking as they leave the club. “Mate, I’m fineeee,” you heard Lando speak. He had an arm around Oscar’s shoulders to keep steady, yet was practically carried by Oscar the whole time.
“No, you’re not, you can barely walk.” You see Oscar roll his eyes as he helps Lando get to you. When Lando’s glossy eyes land on you, he grins.
“Y/N!” He exclaims, wrapping his arms around you. You reciprocate the hug, wrapping your arms around his neck and inhaling the familiar scent of your best friend. As intoxicating as it is, you manage to pull away slightly. “Why didn't you come inside? Max was downing shots like craaaazyyyyy”
“Maybe next time,” you laugh.
Lando pulls away and turns to Oscar. “This guy,” he points to him, causing a confused look on Oscar’s face. “He’s the real champ.” Lando laughs, wobbling over to Oscar. “Great job, mate. I’m very jealous and upset, but you did so great.”
“You also did really great, Lando.” Oscar smiles at Lando, “McLaren said you’ve had a great impact on the team.”
“Aw, really?” Lando grins and it warms your heart. “That’s so sweet. Listen, I will catch you later, I got a pretty girl I gotta get to, alright?”
Oscar nods and locks eyes with you, noticing the slight blush on your face at Lando’s words. “Alright, mate. Night.” He says to the both of you.
“Night, Oscar,” you and Lando reply in union and he laughs. You open the passenger door for him and he gets in, but instead of buckling up, he just sits there. “Buckle up, Lan.”
“Sleepy,” is all he says. You roll your eyes and smile at his laziness before reaching over and buckling him up. You have to try your best and ignore how his face is so close to your neck, and how you’re so close to his neck. The button-up he wore today was half-way to being fully unbuttoned and the mere glimpse of his exposed chest made you weak in the knees. “You smell nice.”
“Thanks, Lan.” You smile and start the car, driving back towards the hotel. There’s an unexpected silence in the car and you can feel Lando’s gaze on you. After looking at the rear-view mirror and seeing just how red he made you, you pray he’s too drunk to tell.
You feel his gentle tug on the sleeve of your sweatshirt. “This mine?”
You look down and realise you did, in fact, put on Lando’s sweatshirt instead of your own. “Oh, shit. Yeah, sorry. Probably mixed yours up with mine.”
“No, it's alright,” he hums. “Looks better on you. I like you in my clothes.”
You’re sure that if Lando wasn't wasted right now, he’d be giving you so much shit for being a flustered mess. But you can't help it when he’s being so sweet to you.
The hotel comes into view and you look over at Lando. He was already looking at you. “We’re here.”
He unfastens his seatbelt and opens the door, before making his way around the car to open your door. Even though he’s drunk, he remembers the little things he does for you. You’ve told him multiple times that he doesn't have to do that, you’re fully capable of opening your own door, but he persists.
Lando’s hand reaches out to help you get out of the car and the warmth of his palm in yours sends sparks through your body. He seems to notice it, but says nothing about it. Yet you notice the slight smirk on his face.
He seems to be less drunk than when he was with Oscar. He walks just fine without needing to support himself on you, but regardless, he wraps an arm around your waist and leads you into the hotel.
“Don’t you need help walking?” You laugh, slightly, as you remind him of what he was like only ten minutes ago.
“Nope,” Lando shrugs, reciprocating the smile on your lips. “Had to pretend to be very wasted so I’d have a reason to leave. I’m still a little tipsy, though.”
“And Oscar bought it?”
Lando can't help but laugh at the memory of Oscar practically dragging him out of the club. “Yeah, apparently he’s very gullible.”
You smile, looking at Lando’s face and studying every feature. The moles on his cheek and neck have always been your favourite feature of his. You love drawing shapes on his skin, as if you were connecting the dots. And that smile of his... The sight of it made you melt.
The elevator dings at your floor and Lando leads both of you towards your room. For some reason, you grow nervous. You’re nervous that this affection won’t be there when he sobers up in the morning, so you’re dreading every second until you go to sleep.
“Did you like the roses?” He asks, setting his stuff down on his bedside table.
You look over at him and smile. “Loved them. Thank you.”
“No need,” he’s quick to shut down your thanks. “I told you, you deserve it.”
“Yeah, but you’ve been sending me roses every week for months now,” you tug off your sweatshirt and get dressed for bed. Lando watches. “I don't do things like that for you, it makes me feel like it's unfair.”
“It's not unfair,” he lays down in the bed, watching as you carefully take off his sweats and place them in your suitcase. “It’s what friends do.”
“Is it?” You ask with a small smirk, getting into the bed. “Do friends also share a bed?”
“If it's cheaper, yeah.” He references the prices of the hotel and how expensive it would’ve been if you had gotten a room with two beds instead of one.
You look at him with a soft smile. “You’re rich enough to afford a bigger hotel room.”
“Are you complaining about sharing a bed?” Lando raises a brow, playfully. You shake your head. “Alright, then come here,” he raises his arm and invites you to cuddle with him. Again, not the first time you’ve done that, but something about this time feels different.
There’s something different about you when you lay your head on his chest and something different about him when he wraps his arm around you. It’s a lot more gentle. Maybe more loving?
Lando wonders the same. “Do you think friends cuddle?”
You can tell it's his tipsiness talking, but still, you reply. “Yeah, all the time.”
You feel his chest rise with a sigh. Lando’s not sure what he wants you to say. Maybe he’s looking for a reason not to be platonic with you. Maybe he’s looking for things that you two do that aren't considered platonic. Though, many would consider this not platonic. The way he’s wrapped around you is incredibly loving, if anything.
Neither of you are sure when you started doing not-so-platonic platonic things, but you’ve been enjoying it. The occasional nicknames, forehead kisses, hugs that last longer than they should, cuddles, longing stares across a crowded room.
Somehow, you always manage to find each other, even in a sea of others.
“Lando,” you look up at him and notice he was already looking at you. You’re not sure what you want to say to him. There’s so much to say, yet so little comes to mind. One look at him and all your thoughts, even the most coherent ones, become a jumbled mess.
Lando presses a kiss into your hairline. “Hm?”
You don't answer for a while. The hand that was resting draped across his torso slowly trails up to his jaw. Your fingers trace his jawbone and trail up to his moles, playing connect the dots with each and every one of them. Lando’s breathing became more jagged when your thumb traced his bottom lip.
As your hand cups the right side of his jaw, you ask.
“Can I kiss you?”
“Please.”
That’s all that it took. The soft plea that left Lando’s soft lips urged you to gently place your own against his. You don't move at first. He doesn't either. Your lips stay touching but neither of you move, either too scared of being pushy or too scared to take it too far.
Lando’s the first one to initiate any movement. His lips start moving against yours and your lips copy. It doesn't take long for you to find a good rhythm. Everyone always says you two were made for each other, and this was the moment you realised it’s true.
Your fingers tangle in his hair and his hands travel to your waist. There’s nothing awkward about this, you somehow already know what to do and how to act in a way that’s far from your usual ‘platonic’ acts.
When you softly tug on his hair as you deepen the kiss, Lando whimpers into your mouth and it might be your favourite sound. “Touch me,” he says, under his breath.
Your hand trails down from his hair, down his back, making sure to softly caress it as it reaches the hemline of his boxers. Your hand softly runs over his side, making his skin erupt in goosebumps. “Still ticklish, Norris?” You smile against his lips.
“Mhm,” he replies, his hands pulling your hips to roll against his. You feel his erection pressing onto your pelvis, making the ache in the pit of your stomach worse. “Now stop teasing me.”
The hunger in his voice makes you quicken your movements. You place your hand over his clothed erection and when you wrap your hand around it, a small moan leaves his lips. You’ve barely touched him, yet he’s a moaning mess in your hands.
Your lips press onto his harsher as you begin palming him through his boxers. There’s barely any stimulation happening to his cock, but the mere thought of you being the one to touch him like this, makes him more sensitive to any kind of physical contact with you. He wants to savour and feel every last ounce of your attention tonight, because he’s not sure what this means for your friendship afterwards.
You wrap your hand around his cock and apply some pressure when you stroke him. He’s a moaning mess, softly whimpering as you bite his bottom lip. It takes a few more strokes until you can tell he’s close, so you pull away.
Lando’s confused eyes lock with yours only to realise you’re unclasping your bra and tugging off your panties. He does the same and drops his boxers on the floor, his erection hitting his abdomen with a soft slap. It’s almost like Lando can read your mind when he lays on his back and places his hands on your waist as you sit on his thighs, not daring to take him.
“You scared?” He asks, softly. You knew he had some length, but it didn't seem that long through swimming trunks or boxers. Not to mention the intimidating combo of length and girth Lando seems to be blessed with. When you nod, he slowly flips you over to lay on your back. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”
He places a small kiss on your forehead and you feel his hand reaching down to your pussy, a finger slipping between the folds. “So wet for me.” Lando mumbles against your lips. You feel him lining the tip up with your entrance, but he doesn't move it past that.
Lando keeps it there as he softly kisses you, his lips trailing your jaw, neck, collarbone. He leaves small bites and hickeys, earning enough moans from you to last him months of remembering this moment for when he needs you again.
When you whimper into Lando’s mouth, your hips jolting closer to what you want, Lando smirks. “You want it, hm? You want me to fuck you dumb, pretty girl?”
“Mhm,” you mumble against his lips. “Please.”
You feel him pushing his cock into you, the size of it stretching your walls in a way you couldn't have ever imagined. A slow moan leaves your lips and he’s only halfway in.
“Taking me so well, aren't you?” He kisses your neck, licking a spot before softly sinking his teeth into your tender skin. It hurts but fuck, does it feel good. Lando pushes his whole length into you with a short thrust and you gasp at the sudden feeling of him hitting your cervix.
“Lando,” you call out when he slowly pulls out and slowly thrusts back in. “Fuck.”
“You can take it, baby,” he mumbles against your lips, as he pulls out slowly again. This time, his thrust is more aggressive. You feel him slowly speeding up, your moans only increasing in frequency. The shape of his cock and the way he stretches your walls makes your mind go dizzy.
Lando trails kisses down your chest, placing as many hickeys as possible. He wants to make sure you remember tonight. He wants to make sure both of you have a reminder of what happened for days to come.
“Such a good girl,” he lowly hums into your neck, resting his head against your shoulder as his tongue swirls and licks the skin between your collar and jaw. “Pretty pussy all stretched out for me.”
“Fuck,” you squeeze your eyelids shut at the new feeling Lando praising you.
“You like that?” He smirks against your jaw. “Does my pretty girl like praise?”
“Say that again,” you urge him, your hands frantically moving from his hair to his jaw to pull him in for a sloppy kiss. “Tell me I’m yours.”
“You’re mine, baby,” he kisses your lips, his thrusts beginning to turn sloppy. “All mine.”
“All yours,” you affirm against his lips, feeling your own orgasm approaching. “Fuck, Lando. Keep going.”
“You gonna come for me, huh, baby?” He says between his strained moans, his hips slapping against yours as both of you nearing your highs. “C’mon.”
“I’m about to-” your sentence is cut off by a loud moan when Lando’s hand slips between your bodies to find your clit. He starts rubbing the throbbing bud in circles, applying pressure from time to time.
“I’m right there with you, baby, let go.” He kisses you again and again, slowly slipping away to nuzzle his head into your shoulder when both of you moan in pleasure. You feel his warmth spread inside you and he’s sure he’s never felt anything like this before.
He thrusts the cum into you before pulling out and flopping on his back. Both of you are a sweaty mess, still kissing. After a short while, Lando gets up to go get a towel and clean both of you up, and you change the sheets before laying back down.
“So…” your head rests on his chest when you begin to talk. You look up at him, worry slowly filling up your system.. “Still glad you left the party?”
Lando laughs. “There's no place I’d rather be.”
© 2023 slutforln4. all rights reserved.
#formula one fanfic#formula one#f1#formula 1#f1 x reader#formula one x reader#formula one smut#lando norris x reader#lando norris#lando norris smut#lando norris x you#f1 x you#formula one imagine
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
CL16 | Real orgasm ♡
Summary: Y/n confess to Charles that she doesn't know what true orgasm is. And he shows her what it is.
Warning: oral (f receiving), fluff?
A/N: Hope you'll like it <3
MASTERLIST request are open
Charles sits down on her sofa, putting his feet on the coffee table. She sits next to him, putting the blanket over them.
He takes the remote and turns on the TV. ''What do we watch tonight?'' He asked her, scrolling through the thumbnails on Netflix.
She makes herself comfortable with cushions behind her back and brings her cup of tea. ''I let you choose this time.''
He sighs and keeps scrolling, sometimes reading the summary before finally putting something on.
As the movie starts, she sips her tea, passing her cup to Charles who take a sip too. They're not best friends for nothing. They have known each other since they were little and they always share everything. So him drinking in the same cup as her is certainly not a problem.
And tonight he came to her house to comfort her. Her boyfriend cowardly cheated on her then left her, like a poor toy. Charles helps her to go through this. Even when she were at her lower, he was there.
And what an irony that he put a movie where the main character cheats on her boyfriend with everyone.
''Uhm you might wanna change ?'' He asks her about the third sex scene that happens, where the main character seems really excited about the idea of getting caught.
''Mh no it's ok.'' She squeezed her thighs, wishing her boyfriend was like in the movie, who knows how to bring pleasure to a woman.
''You ok?'' He asked her, putting his hand on her thigh. He really shouldn't have done that. Despite the fact that he's her best friend, she can't control her hormones and can't help but get a little wetter.
''I..I was just thinking about the fact that I have never cum so brutally. Maybe I never cum, I don't know haha.'' He looked at her, stunned. Not because they never talk about sex. But rather by the fact that she admits to him that she has never had an orgasm.
''Was your boyfriend that bad? For never having made you cum?'' She shrugged her shoulders.
Charles finds himself blushing just thinking about Y/n, actually cumming for the first time.
''You..you want me to show you what real orgasm is ?'' He asked her, almost whispering because of his shyness.
She turned her head towards him, her cheeks red. What should she do? She's so horny now that she can't say no. But does that also mean maybe ruining their friendship?
''Y-yes... Please.'' Charles himself didn't expect her to say yes. He brings his head closer to hers, his lips a few millimeters from hers. She can feel his breath on her lips and it gives her goosebumps. She closes her eyes, hoping that Charles will make the first move, because she doesn't dare to.
Just as she was about to open her eyes again, because she thought Charles wouldn't move, his lips stuck to her. His hand slides down her neck and brings her head closer to his, deepening the kiss with small movements. He moves forward so much that she lies down on the sofa, him on top of her.
''You have to tell me now if you want to stop.'' He kisses her cheeks.
''K-keep please..'' He kisses her jaw, under her ear, her neck and her collarbone. His hands slip under her t-shirt, removing it slowly. She feels shivers down her spine when he starts to rub his hands against her waist, hips, thighs and upper ass.
She found herself moaning softly, but naturally, not faking it. His kisses tease her breasts, unclipping her bra easily. He looked up at her, as if he was asking her if he could touch it.
''You..you can..'' She whispered, shyly. One of his hands found its way to massage her breasts, licking the nipples of the other one.
Charles is a smart man. And seeing that she didn't react more than that when he teased her with her breasts, he didn't dwell on it too much.
His kisses keep going lower, until he nibbles softly in her flat belly, removing her pants gently. He takes one of her hands and places it on his hair, indicating for her to play with it.
She runs her hand through it, stroking his soft hair and playing with a few strands with her fingertips. He tries to spread her legs but she unconsciously resists.
''Don't be stressed, princess.. Is it ok if I call you princess?'' She relaxes a little and Charles manages to position himself correctly between her legs.
''Y-Yes.. I like it.'' She whines softly when she feels him blowing on her panties.
He bites his bottom lip, looking at her, full of lust and hunger. A white stain is visible through her panties and Charles wants to eat her out so badly.
As if to answer him, she lightly presses Charles' head towards her privacy. He doesn't wait for a second signal and lets his fingers slide between her folds through her panties.
''Charles !'' She moaned, surprising him and herself. He allows himself to remove her panties, seeing her completely naked in front of him.
''You're so beautiful, princess..'' She put her hand over her mouth and her eyes widened when she felt Charles's lips against her bundle of nerves. He grabs her arm that's hiding her mouth, taking her hand and intertwining his fingers with hers.
''Close your eyes and don't hold back your beautiful voice..'' She closes her eyes like Charles told her, enjoying his lips and tongue.
He makes small circles with his tongue, using his free hand to push a finger inside her. She grips his hair a little tighter, digging her nails into the skin of his hand with her other hand.
The room is filled with her moans, sounding like a melody to the ears of Charles's. He inserts a second finger, making her moan louder. She feels a sensation she has never felt. Her whole body is tense and her legs are shaking uncontrollably.
She can't help but moan, Charles moving his fingers in and out quickly, in a wet and tight song. And when her whole body relaxes, without even realizing it, she drowns Charles with her precious liquid.
Charles is proud of himself. He succeeded in his mission. He made her cum. Probably for the first time in her life, given how quickly she let it go.
He gets up from between her legs after cleaning her as best he could with his tongue. He licks his two fingers, full of her liquid and also cleans his chin with his hand.
She sits up a little straighter on the sofa, not knowing what to do.
''How was it ?'' He looked at her with a naughty smile. She blushes when she sees him like that, his hair all messy by her hand.
''Incredible.'' She finds herself blushing even more when she admits that Charles makes her feel good.
''You.. want to go further?'' She smiles tenderly at him.
''I'm sorry but I'm so tired after.. my first orgasm.'' Charles chuckled and passed to her, her clothes that were on the floor.
''Never say sorry for refusing to go further.'' He passed his hand through his hair, trying to fix it.
''Can you..Sleep with me ?'' She puts her t-shirt back on and takes out her hair with a gesture of her hands. Charles looks at her doing that, his eyes full of love.
''Of course, princess.'' He winked at him, carrying her suddenly like a princess. She clutches her t-shirt, feeling slightly afraid.
''Cha! Careful!!'' He giggles and places her on her bed.
''Do you mind if I sleep in boxers?'' She finds herself blushing again. She knows that their relationship is no longer the same now.
''No no it's ok.'' He removes his jeans and t-shirt quickly, lying down beside her. She doesn't dare to go against him, not really knowing his reaction.
''Y/n?'' He asked her with a soft voice, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear.
''Yes Charlie?'' Her eyes are wide open, a knot in her stomach.
''Do you want to be my girlfriend?'' She turns red at his request.
''I..I would love to.'' Charles chuckles and moves his head towards her, kissing her tenderly. His hand resting on her waist, pulling her closer to him.
#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc f1#charles leclerc x reader#help he's so cute#charles leclerc#charles leclerc smut#f1 imagine#f1 smut#f1 fanfic#smut fanfiction#fluff#smut#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine#cl16
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
in every other life- s.r.
a/n: my soul is in this mf fic. there's a lil sexual tension lol! this is a behemoth of pining. so much fucking pining. this guy needs you like air wtf!! ALSO the poem is from a book, the lover's dictionary by david levithan.
summary: the love of spencer's life is also his best friend, and she goes on a few dates. he does not handle it well, internally. ft. metaphysics by our dear genius boy.
wc: 3.3k (holy shit)
While he recognizes that no direct injustice has actually been done to him, he can’t help but feel that it’s so unfair.
Because Spencer had never actually wanted much of anyone, actually. He was too much of a child through his entire education, and he’d found anyone that he’d even consider had almost instantly had dismissed him. He’d grown used to a life where companionship wasn’t a desire that crossed his mind.
But he wanted her.
His lovely friend, his coworker, who was the kind of lovely that it feels unfair you’d ever have to take your eyes off of. She’s the best person he’s ever met, the sort of wonderful you read about but never convince yourself you’ll ever see. He knows the shape of her, has her form memorized from watching, waiting for her to step into the office every day.
It was only a matter of time until he wasn’t the only one with his eye on her.
She’s actually absurdly easy to want. There’s nights where they watch something, often what he picked, Doctor Who or some other science fiction which would be great if he could focus on anything but her. Her warm disposition ruminating his too-small apartment with a kind of light that follows his every movement. He’d adore her even if she wasn’t, but it’s impossible to ignore how beautiful she is- the kind of pretty that you hardly expect to see in real life.
“Hey you,” her so-sweet voice is what breaks him out of his daydreaming, and he looks up at her lovely face smiling down at him. Fondness seeps through her tone, and it’s everything he can do not to preen that her first thought at seeing him is one of pleasure.
“Hey back,” he says, greeting her with a warm grin of his own. “How was your weekend?”
It’s a calculated question.
She had canceled their weekly movie night. He’d tried not to look too disappointed, like the idea of her next to him on his couch, of her nimble fingers raking through his unkempt hair while something nice, but far less wonderful than his company played in the background wasn’t all that was keeping him going. These days, and he knows it’s likely delusion, that she sometimes seems to gaze back at him with a similar sort of desperation, hooded eyes and tenderness.
It’s a liminal space, those nights. How can people be two things at once? You cannot be both in love and not. In the low-light of his place, under his blanket- it’s like Schrodinger’s experiment. She can’t love him like a friend and more at the same time- it resists the laws of physics. She is his best friend, a fact he knows as sure as gravity and the elements, and believing anymore than that- it’s asserting an impossibility.
When they’re alone together, though. It seems like the impossible exists.
But she’d canceled it, something she hadn’t done for the months they’d been engaging in their little tradition. So there had to be a reason. She sits next to him, her desk next to his.
She looks a little disheveled, only in an adorable way- but a little like she’s been busy, like her flow is disrupted.
“It was good! I finally went out with that guy Penelope’s been begging me to let her set me up with.”
It’s all that he can do not to freeze up.
Penelope has been trying to get her to go out with her friend Ben, which Spencer thinks is a stupid name, by the way, and secretly he’d been so, so pleased when she had brushed off the invite. It’s a dangerous thing, hope. He tries not to have too much of it, tries to savor the thought of her, of more for moments of particular vulnerability. It’s treacherous, to want her the way he does. He knows he can’t let himself feel it all the way.
And logistically- romance is not a reason for a valid reason for him to be panicking the way he is, but all he can think about is the physics. Two opposite things cannot be true at the same time.
“You know, studies suggest that even now, the majority of couples are meeting in person or through friends over any other medium.”
It hurts to say. She’s part of a couple, one half a whole that he doesn’t complete.
“Seriously? I’d have thought it’d changed by now. I guess it’s safer to date someone you know.”
She’d date someone she knew? Is that what she prefers?
“How did it go?” He hears Emily ask, and this conversation is already the bane of his existence.
“Guys, it really wasn’t a big deal! We got dinner, it was just a little thing.”
Spencer isn’t experienced in dating, but he does know that dinner is a serious date. Coffee is a smaller thing, but dinner-
Dinner means she got pretty for him. Probably picked out a dress for the evening, spent time on a carefully manicured look. Spent hours of her precious, rare, time on him.
It’s not fair how much he fucking hates this guy.
“Dinner is not nothing!” Penelope squeals, and he would love to share in her excitement, except it kind of feels like a piece of his heart is being shredded.
“Dinner means coming up to my place, have coffee, oh look who doesn’t have her hair done-“
Please kill me, he thinks. Please.
“Oh, that definitely did not happen.”
Thank god.
Except he can’t miss her flush, how her expression shifts- and he has the sickening feeling he’d be hearing that guy’s name again.
When they all settle around the table, her doe eyes focused on gruesome images that were the exact antithesis of her spirit, he couldn’t help but feel that even if it hurt, there was finality.
The cat was out of the box. Two things cannot be true at once, and so only one is- she does not love him, at least not the way he does.
Ben, is not in fact, going away.
If he had more willpower or self-preservation, Spencer would keep his distance from her, but the truth of it is that as much as he wants to be the person she turns to, her smile is most of why he can stand his job anymore.
It’s a Tuesday, and everyone is grumbling about being pulled in early in the morning, but he’s just happy to have a reason to leave the house.
“Spence!” He hears her excited voice carry, the pretty sound picking his ears up at once. “I got you coffee. It’s hazelnut, and it’s like, 90% sugar. You’re gonna love it.”
She beams at him, and he takes it in his hands. Their hands brush, and he tries so hard not to notice how soft her hands are. Her name is on the cup, and an unconsenting fantasy of her name meaning that he’s hers creeps into his mind before he can bat it away.
But her cup says Ben.
“Thanks,” he says her name, tries to sound measured and friendly. “Coffee date?”
She preens, and god, if this guy doesn’t get how lucky he is it might be thing thing that actually sends him over the edge after all these years.
“Just a quick thing, we were just in the same place and he bought me a coffee, I’d already gotten yours.”
If there’s two roles he can fill and he doesn’t get to pick, if he’s stuck with friends, he’s gonna be great at it, and he’s gonna be grateful. Because knowing her is a grace in itself, the kind of thing you should could yourself so lucky to have.
“He sounds like a great guy,” he hears himself say, “I’m glad you’re doing this.”
It’s the right thing to say. He’s sure of it. The thing he’s not sure of is why the smile she offers him doesn’t reach her eyes.
The next time he notices the cracks in their relationship, it’s when they’re out. She’d suggested this bookstore-cafe kind of thing, and he’d jumped at the thought, all of his favorite things in one afternoon. He’d felt foolish spending so much time picking out his outfit out, wearing the blazer she’d once complimented-he’d actually stuttered so hard in thanks that Morgan laughed for a full minute when she left the room- but she always looked beautiful, and he knows he sometimes pales in comparison.
“Oh, I love this one!” She thumbs over the spine of a thin book of poetry. She’s wearing a forest green sweater that hugs her frame, and a bracelet hangs on her delicate wrist. He loves looking at her, though he tries to conceal it. His goal of being a supportive friend includes trying not to make it that known how gone for her he is.
“I don’t read too much poetry,” he admits, “But I’m sure you have excellent taste.”
Her keen eyes skim through the pages intently, clearly seeking out a specific passage before stopping, gaze alight with recognition.
Her tone is molasses-sweet when she begins reading, and his heart skips a beat.
“When I say be my lover,” her voice hitches, reverent of the quote and he is reverent of her, “ I don’t mean ‘let’s have an affair. I don’t mean Sleep with me. I don’t mean Be my secret. I want us to go back to that root. I want you to be the one who loves me. I want to be the one who loves you.”
It feels impossible to look away from her, doe eyes practically sparkling in the low light of the shop, and there it is. His heart’s in his throat. Of all the things you could have told Spencer he’d experience, hearing her lovely voice wrap around the words be my lover in hushed tone, in sacred sweetness, would never ever be one he’d guess.
He’s not sure how he feels about the multiverse theory, but right now, he can feel all the versions of himself pressing right up against him. Can see into lives he doesn’t get to live, lifetimes where his love isn’t a buried, worn-out tattered thing to keep his ever-frigid chest warm. Versions of himself that in this very moment can smile back at her, warm and open and kind, and kiss her perfect smile.
Because he would be her lover. He would come home to her, spend the rest of his life building a home that she could fit into. It’d be easy, actually. She’s easy to imagine- nights of laughing in a shared kitchen, evenings where her company is a fine wine, sipped at leisure with the comfort of knowing it’s never going to slip from your grasp.
“I like that,” he says, voice too vulnerable for his own good, eyes unable to tear from the eye contact. “I really like that.”
In the root of it, he already is her lover. He is the one who loves her. She’s just not his.
It comes to a head on a Friday. It’s a few weeks from he book shop, and the air feels heavier between them now. The last handful of Fridays he’s sat with the ghost of what used to be their plans, empty time lingering where in its’ place used to be her company.
He doesn’t know if she’s been with Ben. He tries not to think about it.
The sound of her voice lingers in his mind, sweet and bitter in his mind like old lemon candy, the kind his mother would save for special occasions. He’d spend any amount of money he had to hear her lovely voice say those words to him out of the context of a poem.
At work, they seem almost normal. Like one of them wasn’t desperately in love with the other; like a genius and his lovely, incredibly empathetic, kind best friend. In the field, their actions flow together seamlessly. She is always the first to listen and to understand (and god, isn’t it intoxicating to have someone meet you in understanding) and there is nothing to suspect is off.
But there’s still a cloud lingering. The poem- the soft melody of her voice curling around the words, the request of it all, the way she had sounded so wanting- and then, there’s Ben.
She doesn’t mention Ben to him, of course, but Penelope does. Penelope, all bows and bright colors and cheeriness keeps bringing the absolute worst news to Spencer with a smile on her face.
He’s taking her out for drinks! Oh, he’s reading her favorite book, do you know what it is?
This anger isn’t an emotion that he’s familiar with. A roar of possessiveness, the bite of it not tempered at all by rationality. Has he touched her?
It seems almost a tradition at this point when she shakes him out of his jealous storm of thought.
“Spence?” she muses, “You alright?” They’re alone at his desk, everyone having fled for their own evening and weekend plans. This was one of the Fridays that she had agreed to spend with him, and he wonders if he’ll be able to handle the scent of her shampoo so close after such a lapse of the sensation. Will all of his judgement go where he can’t follow?
“Yeah,” he says, tucking his papers into his bag, “I’m excited for tonight.”
His place is actually a short walk from the office. He’d been embarrassed to show her the place at first. It’s all function over fashion, and a bit cramped, but she’d looked at as though it was made of something more, something good. She didn’t even tease him. It had actually been her idea, to start these movie nights.
Ironic, really.
The walk was pleasant, the weather a little frigid but still nice, and she looks beautiful under the setting sun. It’s incredible to him, how her lashes catch the light and make her irises look like polished stained glass. His favorite color. Through the looking glass of another life, he sees a version of himself that gathers her up in his arms. In this daydream, she grants him one of her smiles that seems to carry its’ own light, and leans into his body like it’s the only thing that keeps her steady. It’s so clear. On the other side of the veil, he kisses her reddening nose, and keeps her warm himself.
In the here and now, Her coat is long, and hangs low by her ankles. It’s an elegant thing, like the woman who wears it, and Spencer would be grateful for a lifetime of just looking.They stop in front of his door, some invisible force stopping him from entering.
She sheds the coat inside his home. It smells like the candle she got him for his birthday, a reminder of her grace. He’s saved a bottle of wine for them, a sweet thing for the sweetest thing he’s known.
“I’m sorry,” she speaks the warmth of the beverage on her tongue, and it should feel abrupt but it doesn’t.
“What for?” He can’t imagine what she would have to apologize for.
“I know things have been…off between us,” she says carefully, considering the phrasing of each word. He watches her with a reverence, his hazel eye brimming with affection with nowhere to go. “You’ve been so great through it.”
Her legs are thrown across his own, and she’s dangerously close to sitting in his lap, but not exactly. He’s missed having her this close, the last time she’d been in his orbit was before she’d had reason to be gone. She smells floral. He fights With limited filtering through his already treacherous mind he thinks, He can’t take this from me. I still get her like this.
“I’m not entirely sure what it is.”
She slowly shuts her eyes, go for a moment to somewhere he can’t follow. Her cheeks are rosy from the cold.
“This whole Ben thing.”
“Oh.”
Logically, it always had to come back to this. Someone else had the good fortune to know her like this, to be the person she reads poetry to in deep meaning to.
He’s been stealing moments from someone who’s not his to take them from.
“I don’t even know how I wanted you to react.” she murmurs, staring at the rim of her glass.
“I just want you to be happy” His voice is something low, grit in the sound of it. His hand rests on her thigh. There’s warmth blanketing the room and he wants to kiss her. He wants to kiss her all the time.
She laughs, but it’s not her normal laugh. It’s tinny and a little bitter. He pushes his luck, and reaches out to brush the side of her face, moving the hair but still holding her face. Her breath smells like strawberry wine and temptation.
It feels different tonight. Low light and tension that could be sliced with wire. Every part of her is in reach, and something in the air makes all of this talk of relativity, of physics, moot.
Like maybe he’s not in the only world they don’t end up together.
Her face is warm and soft under his touch and he loves the sight of her. He’s never touched her like this. Every point of contact feels electric, addicting.
“What is it? The Ben thing?” He doesn’t know what he’s expecting to hear. What he wants, is for her to tell him that it doesn’t matter anymore, that she picks him-
“I only went out with him the once.”
“What?”
“I told Penelope I was still going because it made her happy and she said I couldn’t keep going to your apartment and reading you poetry and call that romance.”
Romance?
Wasn’t it romance, though?
Her eyes widen in something akin to horror.
“Shit, Spence- I’m sorry, that is so fucked of me to say-“
“You,” he tries to say calmly, “aren’t going out with Ben.”
She blinks.
“No?”
He has spent so much time living in other lives, existing in the minds of versions of himself he wasn’t lucky enough to be. Drinking coffee imagine a life colored in her presence, falling asleep yearning for the presence of something lighter than what he has to carry.
He can’t exist in two places. That was the entire basis of the experiment.
He moves his other hand to hold hers, and somehow she’s shifted to being on top of him, and he looks up at her with unwavering desire.
Spencer isn’t good at wanting people, but it comes naturally with her. Less of an action and more an urge, a course of motion to which he is at the mercy of. This is what leads him to close the gap between them, and kiss her. It’s
Her delicate fingers run through his hair, and she can’t be close enough, please, and he could spend the rest of his life kissing her, actually. He probably will spend the rest of his life thinking about the soft sigh he pulls out of her.
“I want it to be me,” he manages to say through shallow breath, still so close that his lips brush hers every other word, “I want to be the one you pick. I want it to be me.” His hazel eyes seem to shift in the moment, swirling with emotion.
She brushes a lock of his overgrown hair out of his face. He normally shaves when he sees her, but he’d been so busy that he’d forgotten, and felt embarrassed of it now. That is, until she runs her index finger along the edge of his jawline.
It’s then she leans down and kisses him again, pliant and good, his hands around her waist. He breathes a prayer into her mouth, one that hopes that she never ever comes to her senses about him.
“Spence,” she says, her voice golden silk, a kindness. “There was never anyone else to pick.”
#spencer reid#spencer Reid fluff#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x fem!reader#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#criminal minds fanfic
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Falling
(ao3 link)
Dedicated to @madigoround, my one constant Steddie cheerleader. I hope you like it! ❤️
It’s said if you truly want to get to know someone, tell them no. Watch how they act when they’re angry, when they’re sick, when they’re wrecked by grief.
The truth is, Eddie thinks, the way to truly get to know someone is to watch them when they think they’re not being watched.
So, Eddie watches people. He watches Tommy Hagan ascend the ranks of social hierarchy, climbing closer and closer to the top of the totem pole until he reaches the zenith and finds himself stuck with fake friends and a fake life. He’s mean, in the way that Eddie knows someone is mean to him and he doesn’t know how to handle it.
Eddie leaves him alone, ignores him best he can, and hopes Tommy will have the dignity to do the same.
He watches Carol Perkins, faux-model that she is, use her body like a weapon, like a credit card. He knows that she knows that way only heartbreak lies. No one moves to stop her. Eddie knows she’s hurtling towards self-destruction. He knows she’s ignored at home.
He watches Steve Harrington. His ascent to popularity, then in the blink of an eye, his fall. How easily he shrugs off the mantle of King Steve, starts carting around middle schoolers.
How he flinches at loud sounds, abrupt movements, flickering lights.
Steve Harrington intrigues Eddie, is the thing. And Eddie’s never been the type to deny his intrigues. So he studies the fallen king more.
Some things make sense, after spring break. Some things don’t.
Steve has three smiles: the real one, the one everybody thinks is real, and the fake customer service one. He hardly ever uses the first. He’ll use the second a lot. The kids are dipshits, brash in the way only a teenager can be, unaware and uncaring of the effect their words have. Specifically, the effect their words have on Steve.
When they make jokes about his intelligence, Steve will force on a little half-smile, an unaffected air, even as his shoulders slump inward and his chin tips down.
Eddie sees it. He also sees what Steve looks like, eyes wide and wild, grinning and gesturing freely, as he discusses basketball with Lucas or football with Uncle Wayne. Eddie understands the stats he somehow manages to keep track of (even Eddie has notebooks for all his character sheets and all the math everything requires. He’s forgotten, more than once, how he’d done something for a past campaign, and digs through his notebooks until he finds it. But Steve pulls the numbers out of thin air, hardly even pausing as he finds them in his mental filing cabinet, and Eddie is impressed, to say the least). He knows Steve’s smart, even if it’s in a different way than the kids are used to.
He makes a point to mention it. Steve’s over watching the game with Wayne, and Eddie whistles as he listens in to their conversation from the kitchen where he’s making lunch. “That’s some memory,” he says, shaking his head. “I know I couldn’t keep all that straight.”
Steve blinks at him. “What, like all your D&D people?”
“Characters. You don’t want to see the amount of notebooks I have, trying to keep everything straight, and it still ends up all going to hell when I can’t find something.” He raises a challenging brow, daring Steve to argue.
Steve just laughs and leans back into the couch. “Whatever, man, I still think it’s impressive. I’ve been watching for years, it just kinda makes sense that I’d remember a few facts.”
“A few?” Eddie’s eyes light up. “Wayne, quiz him.”
Wayne snorts. “What’m I, your errand boy?”
“Yes,” Eddie says, just to be contrary. He grins at the snicker it pulls from Steve. “Please, Wayne?”
Wayne narrows his eyes at Eddie, then softens his gaze when he moves it over to Steve. “You up for it?”
Steve chuckles. “Sure, I guess. It’d be nice to see how much I actually know.”
For the next few minutes, Wayne gives a name and within a few seconds, Steve’s answered with stats about that person.
Eddie, ever the competitive soul, ends up invested, grinning and high-fiving Steve when Wayne runs out of names. “Knew it,” he said, happily noting the blush making its home on Steve’s cheeks.
“Ha,” Eddie jokes later, ribbing Dustin because he can. “Kiddo, that was worse than-” he thinks for a few seconds, then sighs and raises his voice. “Steve? Who was the guy who did the thing you and Wayne were mad about?”
Dustin judges him with his eyebrows. “Even if Steve had any idea what you’re saying, what makes you think he’d know-”
“Phil Simms,” Steve called back from the kitchen. “Great player, actually, just wrong team.”
Eddie hummed, enjoying the shocked look on Dustin’s face. “Nah, not quite doing it. Who’s the losingest team?”
Losingest team, Dustin mouths, mocking. Eddie notes that he doesn’t actually say anything this time, though.
“Depends. Jets started at ten to one, then lost their final five games. But the Giants beat the Redskins 17 to zero. They also beat the 49ers 49—heh—to three, but that was earlier in the season, and no one expected San Francisco to win anyways.” He walks out of the kitchen, wiping his hands with a towel, a thoughtful look on his face. “Does any of that help?”
“Absolutely,” Eddie says, even though he has zero idea what Steve actually said. He’s staring, smug grin firmly affixed to his face, at Dustin.
Lucas, over on the couch, sits up straight and stares at Steve. “Did you see Montana’s comeback?”
Steve grins. “Fuckin’ wild, man, but I kinda hate Walsh for letting him. Like, I’ve been there, right? And that was…” he shakes his head. “Not good. Yeah, it’s been weeks, whatever, but an injury like that?” Steve crosses his arms, shakes his head.
Eddie stares, enraptured. Obsessed. Maybe, possibly, falling.
When the kids make jokes about Steve’s appearance, he’ll put a hand to the back of his neck and rub, force down the blush, avoid eye contact.
Eddie knows Steve’s not shy. So he doesn’t understand why Steve reacts like that until one day he compliments Steve. It’s a simple little line, you have gold in your hair, but Steve beams. Eddie’s left wondering about the difference, realizes there’s a certain type of compliment Steve’s received all his life, that probably ended up less than welcome at some point.
So Eddie makes it his life’s mission to make Steve beam the way he had the first time.
One time they’re out lounging by the pool while the kids splash around, beers in hand, talking about everything and nothing. Steve tips his head back to take a drink and Eddie realizes something. He leans forward to get a better look. “Your eyes are hazel,” he says delightedly, grinning at the flush rapidly showing on Steve’s cheeks.
Steve looks like he’d very much like to take a page out of Eddie’s book and hide behind his hair in that moment. He hides behind his beer instead, takes another sip as he waits for his face to get back under control. “Are they?” He asks, like he doesn’t know. He’s such a little shit. Eddie’s obsessed.
Another time, Eddie breaks in (is it breaking in if everyone and their mother knows where Steve puts the spare key?) and starts making breakfast while Steve’s out on a run. He almost swallows his tongue when Steve walks back in, sweaty and flushed, wearing shorts that God Himself must have sculpted just for Steve.
Instead of saying that, Eddie adopts an unaffected face and raises a brow. “Pretty sure there’s a fine for public indecency, sweetheart, and those shorts break about eight of those rules. ‘Course, no one’s gonna say anything when they’re on you.”
Steve laughs, light and happy as he accepts the water Eddie hands him. “And why’s that?”
“Because I think you single-handedly caused every gay crisis on the police force.”
Steve laughs hard enough he snorts, and Eddie’s immediately hellbent on hearing that sound again. “That so?” He asks, then pauses. “Wait, what the fuck are you doing in my kitchen?”
Eddie shrugs, like it should be obvious. “Making breakfast. I wanted pancakes.”
“And you couldn’t make them at your place?”
Eddie just shrugs, a smile playing on his lips. Steve badly hides his grin as he shakes his head and turns around, citing a need for a shower as he heads upstairs. “Don’t burn the house down!”
“Betrayal!” Eddie yells back, grinning when Steve cackles again.
Eddie stares as Steve walks upstairs, enraptured. Obsessed. Maybe, probably, falling.
Eddie studies Steve. Studies him and watches him more and more. His mannerisms, his interactions with others. And he realizes something very interesting: Steve’s always the one to reach out.
He tugs Dustin into a teasing headlock, rubs his knuckles over the top of his head. Flings his arm over Lucas’s shoulders, pokes at Mike until he responds, bumps Will’s elbow with his own. Brushes his fingers over Max’s arm, pulls El into a hug. Robin is the only person who consistently pulls Steve into a hug, and even so, most of the time it’s teasing; a quick, sharp thing, jerky movements and practically pushing him away when she’s done.
So Eddie starts. Brushes his hand across Steve’s shoulders as he’s walking by. Poking at Steve’s cheeks to get a reaction. Quick, tight hugs, at first.
Or… that was the plan. The first time he pulls Steve into a hug, they’re alone, because Eddie does not want to have to deal with Dustin and his dramatics in that moment. So Eddie pulls Steve in, arms flung around him and squeezing in a half-joking manner, and Steve practically melts.
“Jesus fuck,” Eddie mutters, stumbling a little. “You good, Stevie?”
Steve pulls back, a blush making its way across his cheeks. “Yeah. Sorry. It- it won’t happen again.”
Eddie frowns. “How the fuck is that what you got from it?”
Steve shrugs. “I know I can be… well, Nancy called it clingy, and I’ve had a few girlfriends in the past who called it clingy, and if it looks like a rose and smells like a rose, then…”
“Shit, Steve, no, that’s not- what the fuck were your girlfriends on? Why would they call that clingy? That’s not- Christ, Steve, if that’s clingy, sign me up. Seriously. Just warn me next time, we don’t all have the body of a Greek god, we can’t all carry our somewhat-acquaintances out of hell.” He grins at Steve, a half-thing that grows when Steve tentatively grins back.
“Body of a Greek god?”
“Oh, don’t go fishing for compliments, I know you, you’re not that shallow.” He rolls his eyes, smiles. Tentatively places his hands on Steve’s arms, just above his wrists. “You hear of something called touch-starved?”
Steve cautiously looks him in the eye. “I can guess,” he finally says, and Eddie pulls him into another hug.
This one lasts for something close to a minute, and Eddie ignores it when Steve takes a step back and molds his face back into shape. “Anytime,” he says quietly, like a promise. “Okay?”
“Okay,” Steve agrees.
It happens again a week later.
Everyone’s over for Hellfire. Steve was in the kitchen, had been there practically since everyone had trickled in.
There’s a quiet clatter, an even quieter shit, then a pause before Steve heaves a sigh. “Eddie?”
Eddie furrows his brows in concern, motions for everyone to stay where they are, then makes his way into the kitchen, seeing Steve gripping the edge of the sink. “Steve?”
“I’ve been having a shit day,” he starts. “If… if you meant what you said. Last time?”
“Anytime,” Eddie swears. “Hey, Stevie, c’mon, the sink’s not going anywhere, let’s let go, yeah? Wanna stay down here or go upstairs?”
Steve makes an irritated noise in the back of his throat. “Your game-”
“Will be there later,” Eddie finishes. “Here or upstairs?” Steve shakes his head, a sharp movement, and Eddie recognizes it. “Want me to pick?”
“Please.”
“Upstairs. Can you do it yourself?”
Steve makes another guttural noise, pulls away from the sink, and marches upstairs.
Eddie follows. All the way upstairs, into Steve’s room, pausing to close and lock the door. “We’re safe,” he says quietly, and opens his arms. “Stevie?”
Steve trembles as he allows himself to be hugged, hands fisting in the back of Eddie’s shirt, head guided to the junction of Eddie’s neck and shoulder.
Eddie pets a solid hand down Steve’s back, squeezing at his waist for a moment before bringing it up again, just below his neck. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “We’re all okay, we’re all safe. What’re you seeing, Stevie?”
Steve takes a breath. It only stutters a little. “Had a dream ‘bout you last night,” he admits. “Kinda fucked me over.”
Eddie’s heart clenches. “I’m here,” he promises, and guides them onto the bed. “D’you want to be on top or bottom?”
He feels Steve’s brows scrunch against his shoulder. “What?”
“Some people need the pressure of someone on them. It’s grounding. For some, it’s too much.”
“Oh,” Steve mutters. “You on top.”
Eddie bites his tongue on the joke that wants to come out. “M’kay, c’mon, then, still not the one with the body of a Greek god.”
He feels Steve’s tentative smile as they roll over, a breath huffed into his chest. “Always liked Apollo.”
“God of the sun,” Eddie agrees. “Suits you.” He gets his arms out from under Steve, puts them on his shoulders. “This work?”
Steve hums. His eyes are shut. “Didn’t wanna take you from your game. Sorry.”
“And I told you it’ll be there later. If you need something, I want to help you get it. Simple as that.”
Steve sighs, tips his head to the side. His chin brushes the back of Eddie’s hand, and he does it again. “This works.”
“Steve,” Eddie says, watching Steve brush his chin over the back of his hand. “If there’s something you want, I need you to ask for it. I can’t read your mind.” Steve’s brows furrow as his eyes open, and Eddie clicks his tongue. “Close your eyes.” They drop shut again, and he nudges the back of his hand a little harder against Steve’s chin. “What do you want?”
Steve sighs again, gathering courage. “Want you to play with my hair.”
Eddie’s heart skips a beat. He brushes his hand up, traces the line of Steve’s silhouette, up his chin, his nose, around his eye. Drags the backs of his fingers across his forehead, surreptitiously checking for a fever. Nothing. Steve relaxes back into the pillows.
Eddie gets a hand in Steve’s hair and tugs gently, releasing to scrape his fingertips over Steve’s scalp. Revels in the hum Steve lets out. “Sunshine boy,” he murmurs. “Who takes care of you?”
“Sunshine boy?”
Eddie smiles softly, even though Steve’s eyes are still closed. “Gold hair, gold eyes. My own personal Apollo.”
Steve smiles. “You’re Dionysus.”
“Mm. God of drunken joy and madness.”
“And theater.”
“Oh, yes, how could I ever forget one of the billion things one of the billion gods was known for.”
Steve snorts. “Thank you,” he murmurs, hands brushing Eddie’s waist. “I shouldn’t need this. Any of it.”
Eddie cards his hand through Steve’s hair again. “But you do.”
“But I do,” Steve agrees with a sigh. “And you just… you’re selfless.”
“Only when it comes to you.”
Steve snorts. “You’re full of shit.”
“Yup. Selfless and full of shit. Sounds about right.”
“Oh my god,” Steve laughs, cracking open an eye to look at him. They both still, caught in each other’s gaze, realizing just how close they are to each other.
Slowly, so slowly, Steve looks away. “Go back to your game,” he whispers. “I’ll be down in a minute.”
“Okay,” Eddie responds at the same volume, and slowly gets up. He lifts his hand off the doorknob when Steve calls his name. “Yeah?”
“Stay? After?”
“Sunshine boy,” he says again, just to get that smile. “Yeah, Stevie. I’ll stay after.”
After comes sooner than either of them expect, but Dustin got sloppy, and what’s the point of one-shots if not to throw them to the wind when it all goes to shit, so there’s a lot of good-natured ribbing and thoughtless decisions and uncaring dice rolls before it ends and everyone’s packing up.
Dustin’s mom comes to pick up everyone who didn’t drive there, because she’s an angel of a woman, and Eddie makes excuses for why he’s staying until finally he doesn’t have to, it’s just him and Steve, and Steve’s looking at him with the softest smile and something that looks like adoration shining in his eyes.
Eddie opens his mouth to start, then shuts it with a shake of his head. “C’mon,” he says finally. “Let’s go sit on the couch.”
Eddie sits first, and Steve stands, hands wringing one another, until Eddie leans forward, grabs them, and gently guides him to sit next to Eddie. “There.” He holds one of Steve’s hands in his. “Do you want to start, or should I?”
Steve worries his lip. “Do we need to talk about it? If we both know what we’re saying?”
Eddie grins. “So if I were to start talking about buying little party hats for raccoons…”
Steve snorts. “Okay, you ass, point taken.” His smile falls. “You’ve been… really nice to me, these past few months. And that’s not why, not at all, but it doesn’t exactly hurt either. I just…” he shakes his head. “Why me?”
“Why you what? Why am I nice to you? Why have I been taking care of you? Why-” the question sticks in his throat for half a second. “Why do I like you?”
Steve smiles, bashful, and looks down at their intertwined hands. “All of the above, basically.”
Eddie taps the back of Steve’s hand thoughtfully. They both watch the movement. “Because you’re worth it,” he says simply. “Because no one else does it. No one else sees what you do for them. No one else cares. I do. I don’t think I was given a choice, honestly, you looked at me and I was fuckin’ gone. And I’m gonna keep doing this until you believe me. Until you believe that you deserve to take up space, to exist, to have wants and opinions and preferences.”
“It might take a while.”
“I’ll be right here.”
“I might never fully believe it.”
“I’ll be here forever.” He pulls their intertwined hands up to press a kiss to the back of Steve’s.
“It sounds like a lot of boring work.” His voice is high, thready. There are tears in his eyes that fall when he blinks.
“Not to me. Not if it’s you.”
Watery eyes narrow at him. “Did you just quote a fucking Greek tragedy at me?”
“Uh. Maybe?”
Steve snorts, shakes his head, and leans in to lay his head on Eddie’s shoulder. “You’re such a dork.”
“Yeah, yeah. That’s old news, sweetheart.” He presses a kiss to the top of Steve’s head, feels his heart skip a beat when Steve responds by nuzzling his throat. “Is that it, then? We’re done talking?”
Steve sighs and tilts his head up so they can look at each other. “I like you too,” he says quietly. “Just… for the record. And I want this. And…” he bites his lip, then just as quickly releases it. “I wanna kiss you. Um. If that’s alright.”
“Sunshine boy,” Eddie murmurs. “Of course that’s alright. Get up here.” He pulls as Steve pushes up, meaning Steve overbalances and sprawls across Eddie’s lap. They stare, wide-eyed, at each other for a beat before bursting into laughter.
“Okay?” Eddie checks, even as Steve rights himself and scrambles the rest of the way onto Eddie’s lap, grinning as he plays with the hair at the nape of Eddie’s neck.
“Perfect.” His grin grows and a tiny little giggle slips out, like he’s so happy his body just can’t contain it all anymore. “I’m gonna kiss you.”
It’s less a warning, more an explanation for why he’s so happy, and it has Eddie’s heart full to bursting in his chest as he slips his hands just under the hem of Steve’s shirt to rest them directly on his waist. “You are,” he agrees. He almost jokes—not if I kiss you first—but knows Steve needs this. “Take your time,” he says instead, even though he feels like his heart is about to beat out of his chest, like he’s about to vibrate out of his own skin. His hands are steady, though, as are his eyes when he looks into Steve’s.
“Is it weird that I’m nervous?” He’s whispering now, so Eddie drops his voice to match.
“It’s a big thing. You’re allowed to be nervous. Is there any way I could help?”
Steve scrunches his nose up, then moves to rest their foreheads together. “Um. Close your eyes? Maybe?”
Eddie’s eyes immediately shut. “Take your time,” he promises. “Or we can wait. There’s no shame. I won’t be upset.”
“Yeah, but I will,” Steve jokes, and Eddie chuckles.
“There’s a movie,” he starts. “An old silent film that Wayne likes. I watched it with him because he said something about vamp, so of course my mind went to vampire. It wasn’t, to my dismay, but there’s a line. A seductress bewitches men by getting them to kiss her. One man’s about to kill her, like gun-to-the-head about to kill her, and she says kiss me, my fool.”
He can practically feel Steve’s grin. He can definitely hear it. “Which one am I?”
“Oh, definitely the seductress, have you seen yourself, sunshine? I’m the fool in this scenario. Or any scenario, really.”
Steve hums. “Dionysus.”
“Shut up.” He’s laughing, though, grinning at Steve’s giggle, then freezes when Steve’s lips land on the corner of his. “Oh,” he whispers when Steve pulls away.
Steve laughs softly, puts a thumb at the corner of one of Eddie’s eyes. “You can open your eyes.” He’s whispering again, and Eddie looks to see Steve staring at him, a small, wondering smile on his lips.
“Heya, sunshine,” he whispers, almost choking on the amount of emotions he feels.
“Hi.” He pauses, fidgets. “Can I kiss you for real?”
“Yeah. You want me to close my eyes?”
Steve shakes his head. “Just… kiss back.”
Eddie grins, wide and in love. “I was planning on it.”
Steve grins back, just as wide and just as happy. “Shut up.”
“And if I said make me…”
Steve giggles. “I might just have to,” he says before finally leaning in, slotting their lips together in a slow, sweet kiss.
He tastes like the pizza they’d been eating and the beer they’d been drinking, and underneath that is something so Steve, and Eddie wants to spend the rest of forever discovering that taste. When they pull apart, his eyes open—when had he closed them?—and land on Steve, who’s also in the process of opening his eyes. “Wow,” he murmurs, and Steve giggles as he rests their foreheads together again.
“Just about.”
“Can I kiss you?”
“Please,” Steve whispers, so Eddie wastes no time in sealing their lips together again. It’s still soft and slow and sweet, and Eddie focuses on making Steve relax against him. He cards a hand through Steve’s hair, squeezes a little at the nape of his neck, runs it down his back, down his side, to knead at his hips. In response, Steve hums into the kiss, shifting a little to let more of his weight rest on Eddie’s lap. Eddie does it again and again, thrilled at the feeling of Steve finally relaxing fully onto him. They both pull away, lips wine-dark and tender, and Steve smiles, eyes still closed, as Eddie runs his hand through his hair one more time. “Keep that up and I’m gonna fall asleep,” he murmurs, and Eddie’s heart skips a beat at the trust in his voice.
“Maybe that’s my plan,” he answers. “I seduced you just to get you to take better care of yourself.”
Steve’s smile widens. “That’s the only reason?”
“Obviously,” Eddie teases. “Well, that and the fact that I’m ridiculously into you, but that seems like a separate thing.”
“Right,” Steve agrees, giggling. He opens his eyes and presses a quick peck to Eddie’s nose. “I’m kinda ridiculously into you, too.”
“Well,” Eddie says, because out of everything, of course this would be what takes his words away. “Good.”
“Good,” Steve agrees, laying his head on Eddie’s shoulder.
Eddie leans back into the couch, adjusting his hold on Steve so he’s as comfortable as possible. “G’night,” he murmurs, brushing a kiss over Steve’s temple.
He can feel Steve’s lips lift into a smile. “Night, Eds.” He presses a kiss to Eddie’s neck, and Eddie smiles as he tilts his head back into the couch.
He stares up at the ceiling, enraptured. Obsessed. Maybe, definitely, falling.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#touch starved steve harrington#I don’t think I’ll ever write him another way honestly#stranger things#steddie fic#st fic#Eddie has the patience of a saint#(mostly he’s just in love)#Steve is struggling#honestly idk how else to tag this#starambles
4K notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello love reading your mikaelson fics especially the yandere ones
If u want how bout Yandere sugar daddies klaus and Elijah sharing sugar baby reader wants to become exclusive(to be lovers) but reader is not sure if she wants too. She’s scared to take the next level. Pls smut if u can
Their Sugar Baby
She had become their Sugar Baby when they overheard her conversation with Elena, Bonnie and Caroline about her current Sugar Daddy being a piece of shit who just wants to fuck her and drop her, no more taking care of her.
Klaus and Elijah had never had that kind of relationship before so it was definitely different, but of course they could afford to give her everything.
Y/n had stayed at the bar after her friends left and Elijah approached her, buying her another drink and asking her to join them. She was cautious but they could see she was also intrigued.
Elijah had been obsessed with her since he first came to Mystic Falls, and while he had had several relationships over his lifetime, none of them had made him feel like Y/n did. He had watched over her the whole time he was in town, until of course his brother daggered him. Klaus had become interested in her upon returning to the town with Stefan to fix his Hybrid problem. He’d sent her a drink before having to leave again and promising to make her his upon his return to the town. They had started talking the night before when everyone had been in un-daggered and upon realizing they were obsessed with the same girl, they decided to have her together, they had done it once as humans with Tatia, why not now when they were far more well off and able to give her everything she wants?
They bought her a few drinks and just talked, asking what it was she needed from a Sugar Daddy, explaining what they wanted from her and it all seemed rather perfect. They invited her to be their date to their families Ball the next night and promised her the perfect outfit, and the brothers were thrilled when she agreed.
She had allowed them to drive her home and while she didn’t invite them in, at least they know where she lives now and they Hate that it’s an apartment on the edge of the town. Klaus went home and found the perfect dress for her to wear to the Ball and Elijah picked out some jewelry for her to wear with it. There’s no way their girl wouldn’t be the most perfect Princess at the Ball.
That was how it all started. They paid her bills for her and she spent nearly all day every day with them unless they had a supernatural problem to deal with. Elijah loved taking her shopping, she would go with him to help him decide what suits looked the best on him, he loves having her opinion and hearing her tell him how handsome he looks. Klaus enjoyed spoiling her in other ways, whisking her away for an overnight trip to Paris on a jet (Klaus for the food and Elijah for the shopping), A quick stop in Italy when he insisted she needed to know what ‘real’ pasta was like, and even a stop over in New Orleans for the ‘Worlds Best Beignets’. Y/n both loved and hated the fact that Klaus enjoyed feeding her, he watched her eat like it was the most fascinating, beautiful thing in the world and he was definitely turned on by it.
It was a month into the relationship that Y/n began noticing them behaving a little more…personal? They became far more touchy with her, which was nice but she began to realize it felt different. The way they looked at her was as if staring into her soul, and while most Sugar Daddies enjoy people looking at their babies, wanting to show them off to the world as if to say “Look at what I have, you could never afford her”, Klaus and Elijah were jealous, possessive even.
Once Klaus had nearly beaten a man on the street into a coma for looking at her too long she knew she needed to say something.
‘We need to talk.’ She spoke as they sat down in Y/n’s room in their home that they had gifted her, now full of all of her many, many, many clothes. Both men looked shocked but waited patiently for what she needed to say. ‘This isn’t normal, and I’m not sure what to do with that. I’ve been a sugar baby since I was 16, I love it, I enjoy being taken care of and shown off like I’m special.’
‘You are special.’ Klaus responded, taking her hand and kissing her palm, pressing her soft hand to his face but for the first time she pulled away from his touch and he instantly didn’t like that.
‘But it feels like you don’t want to show me off, you don’t want other men looking at me like every other man ever! What guy doesn’t want others to look at their girl? That’s always been half the point for the men I spend time with, you almost killed that man the other day Klaus! And you! You growled at a man checking me out at the register 2 days ago! What is wrong with you guys?!’ They could see she was frustrated and they wanted to make her feel better.
‘We love you Princess. We love you so much and we want you to be ours.’ Elijah admitted and her eyes widened in shock.
‘What? No, no, no…that’s not what this is guys, this isn’t a real relationship, why would…why would you want a girl to treat you like a living bank account? I don’t-‘
‘You love us just as much as we love you and you know it, you just try to hide it, we refuse to do so.’ The suited man responded and she didn’t seem to know what to say.
‘Admit it, you don’t treat us like every other guy you were with, you care for us, and we like buying our girl nice things if you haven’t noticed, love. We enjoy spoiling you and showering you in clothes and nice food, everything you want, however we do not enjoy other men thinking they have the right to stare at what is ours. You are gorgeous, Bunny, every inch of you…and every inch of you is ours.’ Klaus growled from deep in his chest and Y/n hated how much she loved the sound.
‘I’ve never had a real relationship and I don’t want one! Men know what they’re getting into with me, there’s no hidden agenda or misunderstandings. There’s no pain when you cheat or leave and I don’t want that! I can’t-I’m sorry. I can’t.’ She stood up, walking to the door and grabbing her bag when suddenly the door was slammed shut, Klaus cutting her exit off.
‘Where are you going? You live here now my love.’ She took a step back, she had never been afraid of Klaus and unlike everyone else in the world she knew he would never hurt her, but she also didn’t know what lengths he would go to to keep her.
‘My apartment, I need to think, I want to be alone right now.’
‘Apartment? We had you moved out of there weeks ago Princess, you’re ours now.’ Her eyes widened and she took several steps back before hitting the wall and sliding down to the floor. ‘We know you love us, and we understand that you’re afraid of being hurt but that’s not an option with us Y/n, we will never leave you, you’ll never lose us, we’ll never die. We’re immortal-‘
‘But I’m Not!’ She shouted and the brothers looked at each other for a moment before Klaus kneeled down beside her, kissing her palm once again and holding it to his face.
‘We can fix that problem right now.’ Y/n sucked in a breath, looking from Klaus back to Elijah in shock but he just tilted his head as if waiting for an answer.
‘Have you been planning this?’
‘We’ve been hoping for you to agree to be ours since before we had drinks…we love you Princess and we don’t plan on letting you go. We know you love us too…please just let us have you?’ As Elijah spoke, Klaus kissed his way up her arm and tilted her head to bare her throat, kissing and sucking his way up to her jaw before down to her chest.
‘Why me? After 1000 years, why me? How do I know you won’t get bored and leave?’ She hated how vulnerable and weak she sounded but they already knew how lonely and scared she was, keeping herself unavailable to keep from getting hurt.
‘We both fell in love with you a long time ago Princess, you’ve been mine since the day I came to Mystic Falls.’
‘And mine since I sent you that first drink.’ Klaus mumbled against her chest where he continued sucking love bites onto her perfect flesh.
‘You’re already ours Y/n…all that’s left is for you to admit it.’ Elijah tucked her hair behind her ear before leaning closer, kissing along her jawline and she knew she was done for. No women can have 2 Mikaelson’s sucking on their neck and chest and then reject them, physically impossible!
Her fingers tucked into both of their hair and held onto them desperately. ‘Please?’ That was all she said, but it was all she needed to say before Klaus’ hands grabbed ahold of her thighs and lifted her up effortlessly, dropping her onto the bed the next second and tearing her dress right down the front. ‘Hey! Not the dress!’
‘Bunny, I’ll buy you 100 more dresses tomorrow if that’s what you want but anything that obstructs my view of your perfect body deserves to be torn to shreds.’ Her bra was torn off next and Klaus finally got his lips around her breasts like he had clearly wanted, or so she thought. Elijah’s lips claimed hers roughly as Klaus kissed and nipped his way down her stomach and hips, pulling down her panties and revealing her pussy to him. ‘My God, you are a dripping mess, aren’t you? Did we do this?’ The hybrid questioned just as she was unbuttoning Elijah’s shirt and shoving it off of his shoulders.
‘Answer him Princess.’ Elijah teased, biting her lip between his teeth harshly and making her whine.
‘Obviously you did! Now fix it!’ Her voice demanded and pulled Elijah by the tie that was still around his neck despite his upper body being naked before she suddenly cried out. Elijah pulled back, looking down to see Klaus with his fangs buried into her thigh, tasting her as her thighs sat on his shoulders and his fingers rubbed at her clit slowly and teasingly.
‘How is she?’ He asked his younger brother who just groaned in response, but it was all he needed. Despite their girl having known they were vampires, they had yet to taste her, wanting to save it for just this occasion. Elijah leaned back down to his Princess, baring her neck for him and licking her throat teasingly before biting into her lovely flesh, her blood filling his mouth with what was possibly the best taste he had ever experienced. His hand cupped her breast, squeezing roughly and listening to her heart beat speed up as her hips ground against Klaus’ hand, her overwhelmed senses unable to take the stimulation before she came, crying out as they both pulled back, cleaning her blood from their bite marks.
‘T-too much…’ she whined, nuzzling into Elijah’s neck and holding onto him tightly.
‘Too much? Too Much?’ Klaus asked, teasingly as he crawled back up her body, kissing over her shoulders. ‘Well if that’s too much, you’re about to be in trouble Bunny.’ Suddenly her body was completely turned around, Klaus now pressing his lips to hers as Elijah sat her up and held her back to his chest. Elijah used her slick from her previous orgasm to spread over his cock as Klaus lined his cock up with her pussy and thrust his hips up, bottoming out immediately making her cry out, arms wrapping around his neck tightly as she trembled.
‘Gentle Niklaus, our Princess is giving herself to us, the least we can do is handle her with care.’ He half teased and half scolded.
‘My Bunny is loving every second of my cock in her tight little cunt, aren’t you Bunny?’ Y/n whined before nodding her head into his neck where she held him tightly.
‘Please move?’ She begged but Klaus just shook his head.
‘Not yet love, we need to give Elijah a chance to join in.’ Her eyes flew open as she seemed to suddenly understand what he means and she began pulling back, making Klaus hold her to his chest tightly.
‘Come now Princess, we know you’ve done this before-‘
‘With One Guy! Not This! I don’t-‘ Klaus cut her off with his lips against hers roughly , thrusting up into her and silencing her complaints.
‘If you can tell me you don’t want this, and be convincing, then we will stop right now.’ Elijah promised and she just whined, knowing she had dreamed of exactly this position one too many times, he often enjoyed watching her dreams and they were almost always wet dreams about the both of them.
‘Hurry up brother, I will not wait forever.’ Klaus growled, pulling her as close as he could and pressing his lips to hers again which she tried to focus on as she was so over stimulated already upon feeling Elijah’s cock pressing against her hole. He pushed his hips forward and stretched her out slowly, pausing as she whined before continuing, pressing his lips to the back of her neck to comfort her.
‘Just let me in Princess, you know you want to.’ He teased, rolling his hips as he felt her try and relax her body again, shoving the last 2 inches into her tight hole and hearing her squeal. ‘Are you alright?’ She nodded into Klaus’ chest just before the Hybrid thrust his hips up, causing her to move on Elijah’s cock as well which made her cry out quite loudly.
‘There’s our girl, scream for us Bunny!’ She cried out again into his neck and they both loved her loud reactions. Elijah was pushing into her hard now, already fucking her ass harder than the only other guy that ever did it.
‘Fuck Elijah!’
‘That’s right Princess, squeezing my cock so Goddamn tight! I knew you would love this, your ass is so perfect, how could she not love my cock?’ Elijah was practically needy to know that he makes her feel better than that idiot that fucked her before.
‘Fuck! Please-Ah!’
‘That’s a good girl. Cum for us Bunny, I know you want to. Want us to fill your tight little holes more than they ever have been before. Cum!’ Klaus growled into her throat and just as their girl wailed, they buried their fangs into her flesh once again, the both of them cumming hard into her sore holes. Something about knowing that their girl was more fucked out and full than she had ever been before was almost enough to make them cum again.
As her breathing and heart rate began to slow they both pulled back, Elijah biting into Klaus’ neck roughly to start the blood flow before pressing Y/n’s lips against the bloody bite mark. ‘That’s a good girl, drink for us Princess, drink nice and deep.’
‘Fuck Bunny! Already such sharp teeth!’ Klaus grunted, feeling her bite her dull teeth against the open wound to keep it from closing quickly. ‘Such a good girl.’ He moaned, loving the feeling of her biting into him, desperate for more of his blood.
‘We love you Princess, and when you wake up you’ll be all ours…for the rest of eternity.’ Elijah spoke, Y/n finally pulling away and allowing them to see her, Klaus’ blood dripping down her chin.
‘Going to make such a gorgeous vampire, aren’t you precious?’ She nodded, holding onto Klaus and pressing her lips to his just as Elijah took her neck in his hands and twisted as gently as he could.
They quickly cleaned her and themselves up, Klaus dressing her while Elijah went and fetched a few blood bags, laying beside their girl as they waited for her to wake up into their eternity together.
Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist
Elijah Mikaelson Masterlist
#vampire#hybrid#tvd klaus#tvdelijah#the vampire diaries#the originals#the vampire diares imagine#the originals imagine#niklaus mikaelson#klaus mikaelson#Elijah Mikaelson#klaus imagine#klaus x reader#klaus x y/n#klaus x oc#klaus smut#elijah imagine#elijah x reader#elijah x oc#yandere elijah mikaelson#yandere klaus mikaelson#klaus mikaelson smut#elijah mikaelson smut#klaus mikaelson imagine#elijah mikaelson imagine#klaus mikaelson x reader#elijah mikaelson x reader#Sugar Daddy!Elijah Mikaelson#Sugar Daddy!Klaus Mikaelson#vampire imagine
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
fixing the other's hairstyle to let their hands run through their partner's hair
Characters : isagi, reo, karasu, yukimiya, hiori, sae, rin, kunigami, nagi
Fluff
m.list || rules
Note: Charles being friends with shidou is really no surprise 😭 they're both menaces
isagi
is a smiley little pookie
never do your hair ‘cause he’s gonna ruin it and he doesn’t even intend to and he's SO sorry when he does
he wants to touch your hair all the time, brushing it away, make sure you don’t get it or eat it
he’s so oblivious about the fact that he KEEPS touching your hair
it’s always some “wait I’ll help you out” when you want to tie it (if you can), or “wait” and he brushed it away from your eyes
All. The. Damn. Time.
If your hair is long/shoulder length, he wants to brush it for you on windy day so you’re all pretty again
karasu
I see him as a gentleman who tease a little
so I think he tends to play with it a lot, twirling it around his fingers and then say it was to fix the strand
even more if you have curly hair or curl it yourself, it was losing its bounce a little, he helped :)
he doesn’t do it much outside, but when it’s just the two of you he likes it
ruffling it, putting a falling strand behind your ear/out of your view
he just loves the softness
nagi
it’s easy, he’s taller than you so it’s his favorite part and he doesn’t even try to find any excuses
he just touch it, even pet your head as if your a damn cat
he loves it if you have long hair, he can play with the end easily when he’s out of energy for the day
he can lay his head on top of yours and that’s generally, if needed, his excuse to touch your hair – inside, all alone or outside with people
he’s the type to brush your hair away of your face if it bothers him and he can’t see your eyes
kunigami
his best excuse is that he knows how to style hair thanks to his sisters so he can help effectively
he does your hair for you, I don’t make the rules
that’s his favorite part of getting ready, doesn’t matter where you’re going or if you stay at home
he LOVES breaking the curl when he just done it to make them look loose – plus you look amazing
tie your hair for you just to feel it between his fingers
and always has a hair tie to do so
he’s the best, he can do anything and if not : he’ll learn to
everything to see you smile
sae
he’s too serious for his own good when he’s in public, you like to mess with him
he freshly cut his hair and you can’t help but want to run your hands through it all day, it’s all soft and nice and he smells as good as always and –
he had to glare at you for you to stop your move, rolling your eyes, you left to get a drink
a hand find it’s way on your smaller back again and you roll your eyes
“Stop that would you”
“Cut your hair after next time” it’s his time to roll his eyes
“You’re impossible” and you returned him the compliment, this time ruffling his hair for good before fixing it and smiling
“I love you though” he narrows his eyes at you, taking a look around him before leaving a peck on your cheek
“Me too”
rin
you like to fix his bangs to bother him
putting it a little on the side to get a better sight of his eyes even if he hated it
or ruffling it until he can’t see anymore
annoying Rin is your favorite job on earth
this end up in a fight half of the time – and he always win, be for real
but deep down, he loves it a lot
this boy is touch starved, so you playing and touching his hair a lot make him feel better and loved
reo
he’s a tidy man, he knows what he’s doing and big gathering, brands and companies or not ; he just has to be perfect
and he’s glad to have someone around him ready to fix his look if needed
but you two haven’t left yet that you already fixed his hair a few time
“You can’t act like that tonight you know that ?” he chuckled as you, very cautiously, fix it once again
“I will if needed.”
“Was it needed all the time for the past half and hour ?” he asked in a smirk, tilting his head to the side
you blush at his comment and pout. “Maybe not…”
he doesn’t mind tho, you’re sweet and you love him sm you can’t help it
he feels the same, don’t you worry
hiori
casual date but he’s always making sure he looks cute for his pretty s/o
you two leave when the time is still clear and warm yet knowing that’s a windy day
by the time you arrive at your destination, a cute cat café that opens recently, your hair is a mess and you can’t help but whine
he’s quick to help you out, brushing his fingers through it to ease it before his own hair – not that it moved much
yet you brushed your fingers through his as well, giggling when you’re done and him thanking you, not knowing it wasn’t needed at all
his hair is so soft, you can’t help but push it away gently or hold it before a strand falls in his mouth while he’s eating.
“What’s up today ?”
“Nothing, I just don’t want you to eat your hair !”
yuki
you attend an official thing, like regarding commercials he worked in with some brand
he’s : on fleek, hair perfectly done, makeup on top, he looks handsome and that’s your man ? Damn
you have to be serious the whole, contain yourself, smile a lot but you really can’t help yourself, from time to time, to make sure that his outfit and hairstyle stay perfect
that’s your job right ?
It’s like the ninth time your hand keeps a stand of hair out of his sight, or to make sure it stays put together, it makes him giggle.
“Done ?” he asked in a whisper in your ear, his smile so easy to imagine on his face.
“What ? It’s in your face. I’m helping out.”
“You’re not. You’re clingy,” he pecked your temple. “but it’s fine.”
yes, he knows you just can’t keep your hand for yourself but he still finds it cute and endearing
#blue lock#bllk#blue lock x reader#blue lock hc#blue lock headcanons#isagi yoichi#isagi x reader#reo mikage#reo x reader#karasu tabito#karasu x reader#nagi seishiro#nagi x reader#yukimiya kenyu#yukimiya x reader#hiori yo#hiori x reader#sae itoshi#sae x reader#rin itoshi#rin x reader#kunigami rensuke#kunigami x reader
841 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
ibrahimdem
ibrahim
ideamike
Без названия
theoneinyourdreams
Untitled
luciaedwards20-blog
Lottie Lü
bakubro-katsuki
Bakubro Katsuki