#someone give her a damn hug for fucks sake!!!!
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Arranged Marriage
(Part 01 / ?)
(Niko Omilana x f! reader)
Warnings : None
Summary : In order to be the grateful daughter, you have to comply with your father's request. But what is it?
"WHAT!?!!?", you stand up abruptly, question whether you had misheard the sentence.
"Y/n, you're gonna listen to your father, we're not going to argue over something as trivial as this". Your stepmum, Ryona, interjects rudely as she pulls a chair and sits down.
"TRIVIAL?", you exclaim.
Why did she care, you ask? Nope, I don't know either.
"Dad, why are you doing this? I mean give me a proper reason at least. You can't spring up a topic this serious and tell me to go with it." You try pleading with your dad, but he remains unfazed at your outburst.
"We've always wanted the best for you y/n. I've given you everything you wanted, done everything you asked me to. And when I tell you to say yes... You question me as your father?"
Your eyes drop to the floor. It was true. Your father was an amazing man and an even better parent. A sense of shame crawls through your spine as you realise just how much you owe him. He had done so much for you, yet you couldn't agree to one thing he had asked?
"Dad please, this is so stupid. I don't want to be married right now. I just started my career-", you reason.
"Making little videos isn't a fucking career, Y/n. Maybe you're pulling a few hundred dollars here and there, but that doesn't mean that this is a stable job. Do you even know how embarrassing it is to tell people that our daughter makes 'videos' on the internet. I mean even the phrasing of it is absolutely hysterical and shameful!" Ryona finishes her comment with a quick glance at her husband, motioning for him to speak.
"Y/n, please... ", Your dad looks at you with hopeful eyes. What you failed to notice was how that man's eyes filled up with tears as you sighed and started walking towards your room.
.
.
.
The following week was uncomfortable. Whenever you came down for breakfast, they'd stop talking. They'd drop whatever the hell the were doing and wander off somewhere else. I mean, you were used to Ryona pulling shit like this all the damn time, but not your dad.
He avoided you like the plague. This had gone to such an extent that the old man couldn't bear to be in the same room with you, avoiding your eyes everytime you tried to speak.
Perhaps it was how they treated you, or perhaps how that bizarre idea had implanted itself into your head. You weren't interested in anyone, and god forbid to say that you didn't have any personal goals to hit. You'd love to have a family, you'd love to have someone at home, just for the sake of it. You'd build the family you could never get as a child.
But how?
The were talking about marrying you off.
Or that's how you heard it.
Yeah, Definitely marrying you off.
But how does an option like that sound so much better than living in this hell hole.
Fucking hell.
It's been one month, that your dad and your stepmum have completely iced you out.
.
.
.
"I'll do it". You state, matter of factly, raising an eyebrow as your 'parents' turn towards you. They weren't gullible, they knew what you wanted to say.
"Y-you'll marry him? You'll marry Nikolas!", Your dad pulls you into a bone-crushing hug which you don't return. How could he be so happy at the thought of his wife sending their child away to a man they don't even know.
Well, they know him. You don't.
He's the son of your dad's bestfriend. Of course the know each other to an extent.
Whatever.
You had dug your own grave, might as well get it over with.
"But, I can't just say that I'll get married to him? He has to agree in order-".
"The boy has agreed a month ago. It was YOU who kept stalling the wedding. How long were you planning on doing this? Don't you see that we have an image to maintain? Now stop your wailing and mentally prepare yourself. You'll both get married in a week's time. I'm calling the Omilanas and confirming". Ryona makes herself very clear, making it painfully obvious that they were going to get you married forcefully if you didn't agree otherwise. Or else how could they manage a whole venue within such an acute time frame?
You nod weakly and head back upstairs, feeling defeated. Your future was written already, your yes meant NOTHING.
.
.
.
You've heard of him. He's big on YouTube, people in his comments often ask him to collab with you. You'd be lying if you said your comments said otherwise.
Oh how'd the internet would have an absolute field trip if they found out that their two favorite creators were about to me married.
Well....married for the sake of marrying.
Married for the sake of a title.
Married for the sake of your father.
You look at the dress and accessories you had picked out and sigh into your hands. It was happening.
Your wedding........... was tomorrow.
#betasquad#beta squad#betasquad x reader#beta squad x reader#niko omilana#niko omilana x reader#sharky#sharky x reader#chunkz#chunkz x reader#king kenny#king kenny x reader#aj shabeel#aj shabeel x reader#ukyt#uk#ajshabeel#uk youtubers#ajshabeel x reader#arranged marriage
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Not sure I'm ever going to emotionally recover from ats 4x19...
#POOR FRED#STOP HURTING HER#i probably wouldn't have hated Jasmine as a character if she didn't isolate Fred..#ok yes i like evil women. but Fred <3#someone give her a damn hug for fucks sake!!!!
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Steve hates February 14th.
It's a constant reminder that he is alone, that no one ever wants to stick around with him long enough to celebrate Valentine's Day. Most of them leave after one night together.
It's also his birthday. The former heartthrob of Hawkins High was born on Valentine's Day, but he can't even get himself a date. Or a birthday party. Every year that they were around, his parents would go out for their annual Valentine's Day dinner and leave Steve to celebrate his birthday on his own. He stopped associating the day with his birthday by the time he was 13.
Now, he spent the day giving out roses and chocolates to all his friends so that they feel special, so that they don't feel as left out and forgotten as he did for his whole life.
Dustin and Mike fake gag when he gives them both a box of their favourite chocolate and Will blushes and stumbles through a thank you while holding his chocolates to his chest. He got Max and Lucas a big box of chocolates to share on their date.
Robin smacks a dramatic wet kiss to his cheek when he gifts her a bunch of sunflowers (her favourite flower), she also slips something into his pocket when no one's looking and whispers, "Happy birthday." He pulls her into a tight hug and thanks her quietly.
Steve spent a lot of time debating what to get Eddie. Their friendship felt like something more, but neither of them has put a label on what the hell they are to each other, so he decides to keep it simple. He rocks up to Eddie's new trailer with a box of chocolates under his arm and a small bunch of roses clutched tightly in his hands. He's so fucking nervous he forgets to knock.
After gently knocking, the door is pulled open and Steve nearly stumbles down the steps because Eddie is wearing a fucking suit. An all black three piece suit with his hair tied up. He looks hot. So hot all Steve can do is stare.
Eddie groans and runs a hand down his face, careful not to smudge his eye-liner. "Damn it, Harrington. You're not supposed to be here." He sounded... disappointed.
Steve takes in Eddie's outfit again and the pieces slowly start to come together in his mind. How could he be so stupid? "Shit, sorry, Eds. Are you on a date with someone? Nevermind. I don't want to know. I'll just, uh, go. Sorry to interrupt." He turns away as quick as possible and hurries down the few steps.
He should have known. Eddie doesn't want to spend Valentine's Day with him. They're just friends. God, he's so stupid.
A hand gently grabs his arm and stops his hurried retreat. "Steve, wait." Eddie stands in front of him, his heeled dress shoes making him slightly taller than Steve. "I don't have a date with anyone."
Steve finds that hard to believe. He's in a suit for fuck sake. He's even brushed his hair and styled it so nicely. He's lying to make Steve feel better. "Whatever, Eds. I really don't care– "
Eddie surprises him in that moment. He reaches out and holds Steve's face so, so gently in his hands. Steve doesn't know what to do, he's frozen in shock and unable to look away from Eddie, who's standing so close now. He brushes a thumb gently across Steve's flushed cheek. "Steve, I don't have a date because I was on my way to your place. To ask you."
"Ask me? On a date?" Steve is struggling to wrap his head around the situation. Having Eddie so close is causing all coherent thoughts in his head to disintegrate. All he can focus on is the smell of Eddie's cologne and the cool sting of his rings on his skin and the slight shine on his lips because, fuck, he's wearing lip gloss.
Eddie laughs and steps even closer, their noses almost brushing as he invades Steve's space. "I've been wanting to ask you out for weeks, Stevie. I thought today would be the best day. I even bought you a birthday present."
Steve wants to cry. He wants to cry and laugh and kiss Eddie Munson until he can't breathe. "How do you know it's my birthday?" Dustin doesn't even know it's his birthday. Hell, he's pretty sure his own parents don't know it's his birthday.
Eddie sighs and rests his forehead against Steve's, the intimate action steals Steve's breath away. He's too nervous to move, to even breathe. They've never been this close before. Eddie closes his eyes and just breathes for a moment before answering Steve's question. "Dude, I've been madly in love with you for an entire year. It'd be pretty shitty if I didn't know when your birthday was." He says it so casually, so easily, like he's talking about the weather.
Steve can't even be angry that he called him 'Dude' in the middle of his confession because Eddie is pulling away, his eyes full of worry as he takes in Steve's shocked expression. "Fuck, that was too much. I'm sorry –"
Steve drops the roses and the chocolates, grabs the collar of Eddie's suit, and shuts his rambling up with a kiss.
#blegh hate this but you can have it#my allergies are really bad today#been sneezing like crazy#my eyes are so itcjy and watery i could hardly see the keyboard#BUT OH WELL#steddie#stranger things#eddie munson#steve harrington#st4 vol2#steveddie#stranger things s4
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Bet On Me (one-shot)
Synopsis: There's a few bets going around: Y/N bets everything on the fact that Eddie is innocent, Eddie still thinks that he's a coward, and the kids want to know when Eddie will finally ask Y/N out. And Steve... Steve is just over it.
This is sort of an AU! because I refuse the ending we got. ABSOLUTELY NOT!
Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Cheerleader!Reader
Genre: a lot of fluuuuufff, some angst
Warnings: SPOLIERS FOR SEASON 4!, a lot of pining, cursing, mentions of blood and injuries and death, Eddie feeling very low and guilty of himself (someone give my poor boy a hug). I can't think of anything else, but please let me know if there is something I should add here.
Word count: 3773
DO NOT REPOST OR TRANSLATE MY WORKS ON OTHER PLATFORMS WITHOUT SPECIFIC WRITTEN PERMISSION!!!
The second the doorbell of Family Video rang at 12:34 PM during the Friday shift, Steve let out the most resigned sigh he could muster, because he knew who it was and what was gonna happen. The sound of the chains, of the stomping steps and the incessant tapping of palms against thighs in some indiscernible rhythm didn’t give Steve any other illusions history was going to repeat itself. All over again.
“Heyo, Stevo,” Eddie dragged out the name, plopping his elbows down on the till counter with a flourish. “So. Any new movies?”
But Steve was absolutely done this time.
“Stop.” He waved his hand in front of Eddie, not even deigning to answer the question. “Stop. Just stop this whole thing. You’re not here for the movies, you’re here because in just a couple more minutes, Y/N Y/L/N will walk through those doors to give back her previous week’s rentals, and it will give you your opportunity to just gawk at her, even though you actually want to ask her out. So just stop with this lame excuse, man up and ask that girl out on a damned fucking date already. You've been doing this for weeks, man, weeks. I know trauma brings people together and shit, and I cannot believe I’m saying this, but I do consider us friends, but even that has, limits because if I have to hear one more time any sort of groaning and moaning from you about Y/N, and still you’ve done nothing to change the situation, I will personally find a way to open the Upside Down back again and throw you through it, because God damn it, Munson, you will deserve it.”
Eddie, for once in his life, was truly and utterly speechless, watching as Steve’s chest heaved after the rant.
“Shit, Harrington, tell me how you really feel,” he mumbled looking at the countertop, drumming his fingers against it.
“Look.” Steve took in a deep breath and let it out, calming down a bit. “I get that you’re scared, okay? I do. Before I asked Nancy out, I thought I was gonna shit bricks, but the worst thing that could have happened is she could have said no.”
“No,” Eddie countered, pointing at him. “The worst that could happen is Y/N could start laughing in my face, tell the basketball team the freak of town asked her out, and sic those psychos on me again because there’s a difference between you and Nancy and Y/N and me – first we run in different social circles. You and Nancy were the King and Queen of Hawkins before even getting together; you were equals. Y/N... she’s a cheerleader, for Christ’s sake… while I’m the banished nerd, and second… you were never accused of murdering Nancy’s best friend, and still have those rumours fly around even after being vindicated.” That last bit was whispered, and to that, Steve had nothing to reply.
Y/N and Chrissy had been thick as thieves before everything went wrong with the Upside Down, but even Y/N hadn’t known she was struggling despite Chrissy looking up at her as her big sister just about to graduate her senior year. They seemingly had told each other everything, and yet she hadn’t known Chrissy was in such a bad place, she was willing to try drugs to ease the pain.
Even so, even after her body was found in the Munson trailer, not for a second Y/N had believed Eddie had had anything to do with her best friend’s death. For fuck’s sake, Chrissy’s eyes had imploded! How would someone who spent their evenings writing out a character sheet for a fantasy game be able to do that?But despite knowing that, Steve couldn’t deny how people still avoided Eddie like he was the actual plague.
“She tried to stop Jason from coming after you, you know,” Steve piped up, which made Eddie look at him. “Tried to talk some sense into the rest of the team to not come after you, countered whatever he said at the town meeting the night people decided to hunt you down. Y/N never believed you hurt Chrissy, would never, as you said, sic anyone on you. I’m pretty sure she’d fight tooth and nail against that. That has to count for something.”
Eddie’s heart clenched at Harrington’s words. Knowing she’d stood up for him was one thing. Knowing she’d done it in front of the whole town while they were ready to lynch him was another. But still… doubt was like one of the demobats, lurking around the corner before striking with fangs and claws.
When he’d been pulled from the Upside Down, bleeding from every possible crevice of his body, Eddie didn’t think he’d make it, and in some masochistic way, thought he shouldn’t make it. He still blamed himself for what’d happened to the sweet cheerleader he’d left mangled in his trailer. Maybe if Chrissy hadn’t gone to him, maybe if he’d told her he wouldn't sell drugs to her, maybe if he’d gone to literally anyone else and informed them about what she wanted, Chrissy could have been saved. So maybe he didn’t deserve saving either, but the rest of the gang had other plans.
Steve and Nancy had made a sling from the sheet he'd cut, tying Eddie’s barely conscious body to the other man’s back, and Robin and Nancy boosting them through the gate, before helping a limping Dustin as well. Then it was a race against time to get Eddie the help he needed.
Their group was a hurricane as they borrowed, or more like stole, Max’s mom’s car and rushed to the hospital, Dustin screaming at Eddie to stay awake while Robin kept yelling for Steve to push on the gas with Nancy attempting to staunch the bleeding by putting tourniquets where she could or simply pressing down on the wounds where she couldn’t.
It wasn’t much better when they finally reached the place, all of them screaming for someone to help Eddie, only to start giving directions to the ER team once they arrived as if they were medical staff themselves.
“I’m 0 negative,” Nancy breathed, pulling at her sleeve and rolling it up as far as she could as nurses called for a doctor and the rest helped place, Eddie, on a gurney, Steve also instructing for someone to check on Dustin’s bad ankle, who just diverted them back to Eddie. “A universal donor. He’ll need blood. He – he – he’s lost a lot of blood, he’ll need it.”
“Miss, you need to be checked as well.” A nurse tried to guide her to a different bed, but she ripped out from her grip. “Why don’t we do that before –,”
“I said I’m 0 negative.” Nancy’s tone had turned into a sneer as she stared the nurse down. “Either you take the blood, or I can do it myself.” The nurse had taken a step back from her, the determination in the young woman’s eyes didn’t leave room for arguing, so she just nodded and escorted her to a quieter place.
It took Eddie about two days and four blood transfusions to regain consciousness, despite his wounds being shallow, he'd lost a lot of blood, but his newly found friends were all there for him.
Steve took care of the food, Nancy made sure someone always remained by Eddie’s side as she set up rotations, while Robin had informed Eddie’s uncle about the situation, but it wasn’t just them.
Dustin with his bad leg, Lucas with his beaten-up face and even Mike who’d arrived back in Hawkins with El, Will Jonathan and Argyle in tow – all of them were there for Eddie, even going after the police as they’d handcuffed their Dungeon Master to the bed seeing as he was still the prime suspect of the murder of the Queen of Hawkins High. Max had even almost taken one of her crutches and smashed in an officer’s face, but Joyce and Hopper had busted in before that could happen, and despite everything, Eddie had smiled harder than ever. He’d never felt so loved in his life than in that moment.
However, once the presumed-dead ex-chief of police took the reins with a government agent who'd brought them to Hawkins, they were somewhat able to spin Chrissy’s death as Jason’s fault, especially because the other teen had died during the earthquake that’d hit as the aftermath of the gang having beaten Vecna, the Upside Down slowly crumbling in on itself, while the Creel house fell apart, Jason’s body never to be recovered.
The story they settled on was this – the basketball player had seen his girlfriend meet up with Eddie in the woods, and then he’d followed her later on in the evening to where they converged in Eddie’s trailer. Jason confronted the two, his jealousy being a known issue, and that’s when Eddie had left, leaving the couple to resolve their issues on their own, only to return a while later to find Chrissy dead, which prompted him to run in fear of his own life. Max Mayfield was set to be the prime witness to vouch for him, which she did no questions asked.
With the agent's help, they made sure it was a story the whole town, hell the state of Indiana was aware of as well. Of course, some was sceptical, some outright refused to believe anything of the sort, yet the police could do nothing but release Eddie from any charges and drop the case. But that didn’t minimize Eddie’s nightmares, nor did it erase the new scars littering his body courtesy of the Upside Down, and neither did it ease the guilt for leaving Chrissy, so hearing Y/N defend him, believing the lie they’d spun about how her best friend met her end, made his stomach churn.
She deserved to know. If anyone deserved to be aware of the truth, it was Y/N, which should probably be at the top of his confession list, but his spiral was interrupted when Steve cleared his throat, eyes trained on something over Eddie’s shoulder.
“Umm, you two okay?” A voice from behind him startled the boy, making Eddie whizz around only to be greeted by a smiling Y/N. “I’m here to bring the movies back?” The girl waved the VHSs in her hands looking at Steve. “That is if you still want them.”
Steve sighed nodding in her direction and she took it as her confirmation to step next to Eddie by the counter. “Yes, please. Don’t need three more deducted from my pay-check this month.”
Tentatively Y/N looked at Eddie and gave him a soft ‘hi’, before turning back to Steve, leaving Eddie to his gawking. “What got snatched?”
“Jaws 3-D,” Steve grumbled.
“Shit.” Y/N chuckled. “And not even the good one.”
He scoffed, hitting the till and giving Y/N the receipt. “Tell me about it.”
“You – uh,” Eddie cleared his throat, eyes shifting from his clasped and wrung hands to Y/N’s eyes. “You’ve seen Jaws?”
“Uh, yeah.” She nodded, smiling softly. “I really like horror and thriller, actually. Well, maybe not anymore.” Her smile turned into a painful grimace. “Don’t think I can stomach anything like that after everything that’s happened. At least not for a while.”
“That’s fair.” Eddie nodded along to her words. “Yeah, no, completely understandable.”
“Mhm,” she hummed, nodding along as well as an awkward silence settled.
Eddie looked up hoping for Harrington to interrupt them, but Steve was nowhere to be seen, having left the two to talk on their own. The once super senior cursed him for it, giving him no other choice but to continue on with the conversation, but then again – maybe Steve was right. And Eddie wouldn’t say that lightly.
He thought of himself as a coward. He’d run the second danger appeared and only stopped when Dustin, someone he really truly cared about, was in grave danger, but Y/N hadn’t. Not for a second, despite the fact she had everything to lose, despite the fact that Hawkins could turn on her, making her become the new town pariah, she’d stood by Eddie’s side without ever really knowing him. She’d bet on his innocence and won, even though she really didn’t know it was true. So maybe, he could be as brave as she was.
“Hey,” Eddie started and had to avert his gaze when Y/N’s Y/E/C eyes bore into his. “Would you – and I mean you can definitely say no, like no pressure whatsoever – but like, would you want to go out… with… me?”
Y/N raised her brow, a gentle smile playing on her face. “Like on a date?”
“It doesn’t have to be!” he immediately said and cursed himself for backtracking. “We can just be two people who just so happened to go to the same place to do the same thing at the same time… with one another.”
Y/N sucked in the air through her teeth, and that motion alone made Eddie’s heart drop. “I mean that does sound like a date, which I totally would go for, but I gotta say no right now.”
Of course, she’d say no.
“But.”
What?
“If you ask me in like…” Her gaze drifted to a calendar hanging over by the wall, mouth moving as she counted. “Six days, I’ll say yes.”
Eddie was prepared for rejection, but not that sort of a rejection, leaving him dumbfounded. “Umm… okay? Can I – can I ask why?”
Y/N chuckled. “Robin told me your little Hellfire minions and Max have a bet going on when you’ll muster up the courage to ask me out.” The smile on her face turned mischievous. “I sort of want Max to win. She was the only one who said you’d do it before the end of the month. And I want the boys to suffer with how close they got. So, I’d say two birds, or I guess three birds with one stone – we get to go out on a date, Max puts the guys in their place, and they learn not to mess with you.”
“You – you knew I wanted to ask you out?”
Y/N shrugged, fiddling with a bracelet on her wrist. It was her turn to become bashful and nervous. “I mean, I hoped it wasn’t them just making things up.” Uncertainty flashed in her eyes as she shuffled on the spot. “And now I’m sort of hoping you’re not in on this bet, and this isn’t gonna blow up in my face.”
“Yeah – I mean no!” Eddie grabbed onto her shoulders as he fumbled with his words. “This – I had no idea those shitheads had bet on whether or not I’d ask you on a date, but – but they’re right… I uh… the only reason I’m actually ever here is to uh, see you, and well, maybe get the courage to ask you out.” Eddie’s laugh was both out of astonishment and excitement. “Can’t believe those little gremlins bet against me after everything though.”
Y/N mimicked his laugh and bit her lip. “Okay then… I’ll uh, I’ll see you in a few days then? Hopefully it won't take you as long to ask me this time.”
Eddie’s ‘yeah’ was a breathless response, but nevertheless, a confirmation, as he stared at Y/N like she was a Sindarin elf straight from Lord of the Rings while she pointed at Steve who’d now magically appeared back at his station with a satisfied smirk on his mouth, startling Eddie so much he jumped back. “You tell this to Dustin, you’re dead meat much like your paycheck. I still have Sixteen Candles and Nightmare on Elm Street as hostages.”
“Come on, Y/N” he groaned, throwing his head back. “They’re my children! They’ll know I’ll be lying!”
“Then they’ll be the ones carrying your casket, so choose wisely.”
With that Y/N gave Eddie one final glimmering smile and skipped to her car. If Eddie still had one after everything, he’d be skipping to it too.
But when six days later, he was disturbed by a knock at the door, as Y/N had called him the day before to set it up in a way the kids could witness their talk, he wanted to bury himself six feet below and in that casket, Y/N mentioned to Steve.
Filled with nerves and jitters, he went over and pushed the doors open only to be greeted by a beaming Y/N as she glanced over her shoulder where he spotted Max ducking back inside her trailer while he noted a bunch of tiny heads watching from below the kitchen window curtain.
God, he was gonna throw up, he couldn’t believe what he was about to say to his dream girl.
“So...” She turned back to look at him. “Ready to ask me something?”
In all honesty, he was sort of glad, that she said he could ask her out only six days later, it gave him more time to mull over those thoughts in his head, and come to the conclusion that yes, he could do it and help out Max by winning the bet, but he’d never subject Y/N to the kind of scrutiny this town would put her through if they so much as had a whiff she’d been in the ten-mile radius around him, no matter her previous stance during the hunt.
“Look...” Eddie sighed, stepping down to be level with her. “You really don’t have to do this. We can go over, say I did it, and then Max can win, but we don’t have to go out on that date. I – I can’t make you go through that.”
As he said those words, he noted how Y/N’s smile slowly dropped, and if there was something Eddie hated more than the Upside Down, it was that.
“Eddie, I’m not here just because of the stupid bet the kids have going on. Honestly...” She crossed her arms and let out a deep breath as if steadying herself. “When Robin told me you wanted to ask me out, I didn’t believe her. Thought it had to be some stupid prank on your part with the rest of Hellfire, and when she said about the bet, that even confirmed it more. I mean what would a guy like you want to do with a girl like me, right? You hate cheerleaders, hate anyone that has to do with conformity and shit, so you had to have something Carrie-Esque planned for me.”
Eddie was just about to interject, especially at the notion he could ever humiliate her in that way, but Y/N kept on talking. “But then she said how you’ve been going to Family Video, how you’ve been bugging Steve and how Steve wouldn’t stop complaining about you to her, and so I took the chance that maybe, just maybe, it’s not a prank, but that you actually like me… so when I heard that rant you went on the other day, I knew it was real for you.”
He had to take an actual step back at her words. “You heard?”
“Yeah, I did. And I want you to know I never believed that you could ever even think about hurting Chrissy. Not once. You’re too good for that, too kind to ever hurt someone like that.”
Eddie’s eyes softened at her words. “You think I’m kind?”
“You put on this tough, metal-head act,” Y/N smiled at him and shrugged. “But… you literally took those kids under your wing, because you knew what it was like to be bullied, and didn’t want that happening to them too, taking on the brunt of whatever Jason and his goons threw your way. You’re not just kind – you’re brave too. You’ve stood up against a town that was ready to hang you. That’s bravery on a level I could never have.”
“You’re brave too.” Eddie instantly interjected, ready to reach for Y/N’s hands, but stopped himself, rubbing the back of his neck instead, fearing he might overstep a boundary. “You – I mean, you literally heard Steve tell me how you told the town to piss off my back about Chrissy when literally you had no evidence, I hadn’t hurt her. I was the prime suspect, yet you – you went against Jason and everyone else for someone who didn’t deserve it.”
“Yes, you did. I might not have been there, nor do I have any physical evidence, but I know, I know in my heart you didn’t lay a single finger on her.” Y/N stepped closer to him, putting her palms on Eddie’s face and rubbing her thumbs underneath his eyes. He hadn’t even noticed he’d started crying.
Eddie's words were nothing but a whimper. “But I left her there.”
“No one knew Jason was gonna do such a thing.” Y/N shook her head, brushing her fingers along his cheekbones. “And I don’t blame you. It was Jason’s fault… and as horrible as it might sound, I’d rather you be alive than have had the same thing that happened to Chrissy happen to you. That asshole got what he deserved. So, Eddie, let me say this again, and however many times you need me to – you. Are. Good. You are not a coward. And you deserve all the love in the world.”
A teary chuckle escaped him, as he leaned into Y/N’s touch. “Well, then would you give me the biggest honour in the world and please go out on a date with me?”
“Yeah,” Y/N said, beaming at him, a stray tear slipping down her own cheek, which Eddie carefully wiped away. “I’d really love to. And I know who’ll be paying for it.”
Eddie chuckled, pressing his forehead against hers, and her grin widened as he slowly reached for her hands and intertwined their fingers. “You really gonna bully Max for the bet money?”
Y/N scoffed squeezing his palms, thumbs rubbing over his rings. “I’m not heartless. I’m gonna bully the rest of the kids for not having enough faith in you. Seems fair enough.”
“Can I – can I kiss you?” Eddie’s voice trembled, but it shouldn’t, as Y/N leaned up herself and pressed their lips together in a sweet and slow kiss.
The collective ‘NO’ from the boys and a female cackling from Max’s trailer just added to the joy of the situation. Some bets were lost, some bets were won, but ultimately Eddie felt like the true winner. The girl of his dreams had taken a chance on him despite everything.
And now he was gonna be brave.
He was gonna love her until the very end.
Tags (crossed out wouldn't take):
Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh@thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @m-a-t-91 @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @lestersglitterglue @im-squished @strangersstranger
A/N: I know I haven't written in AGES, but so many things just got in the way, I didn't have the time to but I have already like 4 other Eddie fics in the works.
EDDIE DESERVED BETTER!!! AND JOE QUINN IS AN ICON!!!!
#joseph quinn#eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#netflix stranger things#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x fem#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson angst#eddie munson fluff#joseph quinn imagine#joseph quinn x reader#joseph quinn x you#joseph quinn x y/n#Stranger Things Spoilers
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You're mine (Tangerine x reader)
Summary: It always begins with a drink, continues with something stupid, and ends in the bedroom. But when you having a boyfriend endangers your situationship, Tangerine decides to show you who you belong to.
Note: I was listening to Bad Memories months ago and had this idea. Today I finished this story. I hope you'll like it. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button.
Warning: if you squint, there's a smutish part. f!reader. i didn't do any proofreading. oops.
“That’s a terrible idea,” Lemon warned.
Tangerine didn’t care much about these words while he buttoned up his vest. It was past nine when he had called to see if you were up to going out and having some fun with him, and ever since then, Lemon had done nothing but voice his concern regarding this little plan of his.
And just as he put on his favorite striped blue jacket, Lemon went on. “You go out with her, you drink a lot, you do some stupid shit, and then you spend the next weeks dwelling on her going back to whatever guy she’s fucking at the moment,” he explained.
“I’m not dwelling on anything, for fuck's sake,” Tangerine stated with a roll of his eyes. “I don’t care about who she’s with, I’m not looking for a relationship.”
Lemon snorted at this. “Then why do you always look like a kicked puppy whenever you see pictures of her and her boyfriend on social media?” he asked with a questioning look.
He opened his mouth to respond to this, but eventually Tangerine decided to remain silent. It wasn’t worth the fight, he was in too good of a mood for that. So he picked up his phone from the coffee table, waved goodbye, and left the apartment they shared.
As he was heading to the bar where you were supposed to meet, Lemon’s words came to his mind to haunt him. He would have never admitted it, but his brother was right. He hated to see you with someone else despite your relationship always being casual.
The cool spring air helped him calm down, the barely detectable panic about what would happen after tonight disappearing without a trace. You were good for him, especially after spending a lot of time doing job after job. You were his stress relief, a little vixen who could make him feel oh-so-good with just one intoxicating kiss.
And tonight he wanted to take his time enjoying you in every possible way, from drinking to sex, he had several ideas about how to fill the night. You were usually down for anything, that was one of the things he fucking loved about you. He had once stolen a motorcycle someone left unattended when you were out together, while another time you broke into a public bath to skinny dip in the middle of the night.
Inside the bar he sat down at a table, his phone in hand as he waited for you to arrive. He was early, he knew that, but he simply couldn't wait to see you again. Fuck, maybe Lemon was right, maybe he was taking it a little more seriously than he should have.
After all, he was painfully aware of the lack of posts on your social media accounts. In the past two weeks or so you hadn't posted a damn thing, so he had no idea what was going on in your life.
And then, after about fifteen minutes of agonizing waiting, his eyes finally fell on you. You were breathtaking in the tight red dress you were wearing, sliding through the crowd with ease and grace, and his mouth was already watering at the thought of having you at his mercy at one point tonight.
“Well, hello, stranger,” you greeted him happily, moving closer to give him a hug once he stood up.
Tangerine let his arms wrap around you a little tighter than usual, palms flat against your back as he pulled you into his chest. He inhaled the scent of your perfume, then let his lips brush your cheek as he pulled away.
You didn't make a big deal out of this move of his, in fact, you acted like nothing even happened. When you let go of him and stepped back to put your purse on the table, he felt terrible from the sudden lack of contact. Normally you would be all over him by now, what the hell was different this time?
“Is everything okay?” he asked cautiously.
You flashed a bright and beautiful smile at him. “Everything's great. I'll get a drink then we can talk.”
He raised his hand to stop you from leaving. “No, please, let me handle that. The usual?” You nodded without thinking. “I'll be right back.”
There was no ring on your finger, he checked that. So if you weren't engaged, then why were you keeping your distance? Were you in a serious relationship? Shaking his head with a groan, Tangerine walked over to the bar and tried to get these thoughts out of his mind. He wasn't in love with you, why would it matter if you were seeing someone?
It had been four months since you had last met, maybe you just needed a drink or two to loosen up a bit. Yes, this must have been it.
When he returned with your drink, he saw you type something on your phone with a loving smile on your lips. He had seen that smile in photos before every time you were in a serious relationship. The little green-eyed monster awakened inside him, making him angry that you had someone in your life now.
He came to a sudden halt a few feet from the table as realization hit him like a train. He did care about whether or not you were in a relationship with someone else. Fuck, that was never the plan. This was supposed to be a casual thing, just two adults having fun every now and then without emotions being involved.
Maybe he should focus on having a perfectly innocent conversation with you, and once his glass becomes empty, he should leave and go to another bar to pick up someone who was available. Just a one-night stand to release some stress, nothing more.
“Tan, you okay?” you asked when you put down the phone with a frown.
He put on a fake smile and nodded. “Yeah, I'm good, just thought I saw someone I know over there,” he lied. Once he handed you your cocktail, he took his place and folded his hands on the table. “What's going on with you lately? You barely post anything on social media, I'm not used to that.”
You let out a laugh before taking a sip of your drink. “My boyfriend likes to keep his private life private. Thought I should try what that's like. So far so good,” you reported to his surprise.
You had always been the type of woman who wasn't afraid to show off online, making your friends and acquaintances jealous for you having such an exciting life. You didn't have a nine-to-five job, you were living off of the money you inherited from your late and rich uncle who had no children or wife, but liked you very much.
“So it's pretty serious, huh? I'm surprised. Even in serious relationships you never had a problem with living your life like you wanted. And never cared about having fun with whoever you liked,” Tangerine added, immediately regretting being this straightforward without discussing what would happen later tonight.
“Yeah, well, people change. I was a bitch for cheating on my exes. I would never do this to Oliver,” you told him with a sigh.
He flinched when he heard the last part. “He has a name. Good to know.”
Suddenly you leaned forward and narrowed your eyes at him. “Are you jealous?” He rolled his eyes and shook his head, hoping this would be enough for now. But you didn't buy it. “I know this was a booty call, Tan, but I literally wrote it in the message that I'm meeting you as a friend this time. You didn't reply so I thought you were okay with this,” you told him with a hand on your forehead.
“You never sent me that message,” he said as he picked up his phone and opened the messaging app to show you the conversation.
And sure enough, you quickly realized he never received that one. You glanced at your own device and let out a groan when you noticed the goddamn app didn't send it. “I'm so sorry. I feel stupid.”
Tangerine reached out to put a hand on yours. “You're not stupid. But answer me this. Does he fuck you as good as I do?” he asked, deciding that being bold was the right move in this game if he wanted to get his fix from you. But you didn't answer, you didn't even look him in the eye. “Come on, love, answer me. Does he make you come as hard and as many times as I do?”
When you still refused to answer, he let go of your hand so he could pull his chair next to yours to wrap an arm around your shoulder while his other hand grabbed your chin. He leaned so close to you that his lips almost touched yours. You froze like a deer in the headlights, your eyes locked on his piercing blue ones.
“Just one more night. One more, and if you still don't want anything from me, I'll disappear for good,” he told you quietly, but with such confidence that he already knew he won.
But you hesitated. You still hesitated and he hated it. You hadn't been like this before, back in the day you would have said yes without thinking. So he did the only thing he could think of–he kissed you. His lips were moving slowly against yours, tongue swiping over your bottom lip to gain access to your mouth.
“Tan,” you tried weakly as you pushed him away a little.
This only made him more determined to get you. So he put his hand on the back of your neck and pulled you closer again, gripping you tightly enough to make it impossible to escape. You gave in eventually, your lips moving in perfect sync, just like in the good old days. This was all he wanted, you submitting to him once again.
Just when you buried your fingers in his neatly combed hair, you moved on to kiss his jaw before you moved closer to his ear. “I fucking hate you,” you whispered.
“Not for long, trust me,” he said with a satisfied smirk when he looked you in the eye.
Since you had a serious relationship now, you couldn't go to your place so the neighbors wouldn't accidentally talk about your little affair, while his home was also out of the question because Lemon was there. So he did the only thing he could think of and took you to a nearby hotel. He was looking for something fancy, something that would be good enough for you.
He ordered champagne, but only after the first glass he was all over you again and you didn't stop him. Tonight was all about proving to you he put you first, that drawing orgasm after orgasm out of you with only his fingers and mouth was all he wanted.
Then came the begging. You were whining weakly under his touch, overstimulated and needy, eventually begging him to finally fuck you. And Tangerine was more than happy to give you what you asked for, ready to make you cock drunk and brainless. Once he was done with you, you wouldn't even remember that stupid boyfriend of yours.
In the morning he woke up to a phone buzzing nearby. It wasn't his, he knew that since it was on the nightstand, so it must have been yours. He glanced over at you, but you were still sleeping, so he got out of bed to check your bag. When he saw the name Oliver on the screen, he couldn't hold back a laugh.
A laugh that successfully woke you up.
“What are you doing?” you asked groggily as you rubbed your eyes.
Tangerine showed you the phone. “Your boyfriend wants to talk to you. Do you wanna talk to him?” When you opened your mouth to respond, he was quick to interrupt you. “Or we can forget he called and pick up where we left off last night,” he offered with a mischievous smile.
Three hours later he stumbled through the front door of his apartment, meeting Lemon in the living room. He had been watching TV, but now his eyes were focused on him, the disapproving look making Tangerine almost nervous. He raised an eyebrow, waiting to hear the lecture he knew his brother was already preparing in his head.
“Good news or bad news?” was all he asked in the end.
Tangerine flashed a smug smirk at him. “She's still mine.”
#tangerine x reader#tangerine#bullet train#lemon#tangerine bullet train#bullet train tangerine#bullet train movie
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Angel
Summary; Jason calls the reader stupid, among other mean things. Eddie finds out after he finds her crying at their spot and is pissed off that anyone would dare insult his angel.
Warnings; protective Eddie, Jason being an ass, tiny bit of angst and fluff.
Likes/reblogs, etc is always appreciated 😘 I dont give anyone permission to copy my work
💞
Having to partner up with Jason in maths was enough to make anyone annoyed but as always she tried her best not to let his general asshole self get to her.
That vow had been tested several times in the last hour. All she wanted was for this class to be done and to find Eddie.
She smiles giddily, thrumming with anticipation at seeing her sweet love. At this point, she was lost in her head and only came to when Jason huffed about loud.
"For fuck sake will you concentrate" he hisses to her, she folds her arms and glares at him.
"Why do you have to be such an asshole all the time? Can't you be a nice person for like ten seconds?"
He snorts.
"Maybe I'm pissed because I am stuck with you as a partner today and as usual you are off in a little ditzy dream world where everything is all sunshine, rainbows and unicorns" his words sting but she tries to hide it.
"I don't live in a ditzy dream world. I am well aware of how awful real life can be but why can't I find beauty and goodness too?" She argues.
He snorts.
This only makes her more annoyed.
"Or maybe I am pissed off at the fact you are god damn stupid and I'll have to do all the work" her stomach sinks and as the bell rings Jason storms off.
His words make her feel like shit, she knew she wasn't stupid. Maths just wasn't her strongest subject but she tried and worked hard to get the grades.
The words stick in her mind and she feels the tears fall.
❤
Eddie couldn't wait to see his princess. They were meeting at their spot in the woods and all he wanted was to kiss and hold his sweetheart for a little while.
They have been dating for a while now and he is so in love with her, she was sweet and kind and sometimes she could get lost in a daydream or distracted by things easily, cute animals, and flowers.
She wore pretty flowy dresses and flowers in her hair, fed all the stray cats in the trailer park and sang along dreamily to songs he didn't listen to but loved anyway because they made her happy.
Each of those things made him love her more and more and he was fiercely protective of his angel.
Eddie had never been more certain of anything in his life and that was he knew one day he was going to marry her.
He freezes as he hears quiet sniffles and when he finds yn at their table crying his protective instincts go into overdrive.
Who the fuck would hurt his princess? His fist clenches, he wasn't a violent person at all but how could anyone hurt a sweetheart like yn? She was so gentle and kind to everyone.
"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" she looks up and rushes over to him. He wraps her up in a tight hug and strokes her hair.
"Do you think I'm stupid Eds? That I live in a ditzy, fairytale world?" he gapes at her and gently wipes away her tears.
"Of course, not sweetheart, you're not stupid and you like to daydream a little? Who cares?" Her lip wobbles and he sits on the wooden table, holding her close to him.
"Who said this to you?" she shakes her head and borrows closer to him.
"You'll get mad and I don't want you to get in trouble for an asshole Eddie" he frowns and tilts up her cheek.
"I can't promise I won't get mad baby because someone made you cry but I promise I won't get into trouble" she bites her lip still looking unsure.
"Well in Math I got partnered up with Jason and"... That's all he needs to hear, he listens to her repeat what happened and he quietly seethes.
"Eddie? Are you okay?" she asks him and kisses his cheek.
"Of course, he's an idiot baby don't listen to a word out of that fuckers mouth. Spews a load of shit" she nods and kisses him again, a little smile gracing her features.
He kisses her forehead already planning on tracking Carver down and giving him a piece of his mind.
💞
Eddie had left yn with Chrissy and Robin as they chatted happily about what new movies were in the theatre.
He had just seen Jason and wasted no time in marching over to him and blocking his path, barely concealing his attempt.
"You want something freak?" Jason spits at him and he glares at the asshole.
"Let me make one thing clear Carver, I stopped giving a fuck what you think of me a long time ago but insulting MY girl is off limits you understand?"
Jason scoffs.
"It's not my fault your girlfriend lives in some fucking fantasy land where everything is sunshine and rainbows, she needs to get a fucking grip"
His temper threatens to spill over but he reigns it in.
"Listen to me dickhead. I am not a violent person, never have been but I will kick your ass if you hurt yn again. I'll probably get my ass kicked as well but it will be worth it. Are we clear?"
Jason's smug smile slips away.
"Whatever Munson." Eddie stands taller, glowering at Jason who steps back visibly nervous.
"I don't know why anyone would want to make someone so fucking wonderful cry, she is one of the good things to me in this shitty place, she's beautiful inside and out, smart, funny, kind, and a literal fucking sweetheart. You don't upset her again. Right?"
After a second Jason snorts and then nods pushing past him.
Eddie returns back to yn smiling as she is laughing at something Chrissy has said.
"Miss me, princess?" He teases her and she smiles sweetly as be wraps his arms around her.
"You two are so cute" Chrissy coos and Robin nods.
"Disgustingly cute but still cute. Where did you go off to anyway?" He shrugs and narrows his eyes as Jason approaches.
"Dealing with some shit," he tells Robin as Jason avoids his gaze and tugs Chrissy along.
"Babe, come on we'll be late" Eddie smirks.
Good. He hopes Carver has learned his lesson.
"Wanna help me set up for Hellfire babe? I created a new character. Based on my favourite princess" he kisses her nose and she takes his hand excitedly as they discuss the latest developments for his campaign.
💞
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Saw that post you made a little bit ago and was hit with an idea (ow)
A yandere that tries so damn hard to hold themselves back from crossing boundaries because while their love is, in fact, incredibly twisted and probably unhinged, they do love their darling. Hearing that Darling never had anyone respect them the way they deserved really grinded their gears. So the Yandere asks for permission before giving hugs, kisses, ect.
Is it out of genuine respect? Is a ploy/plot to gain Darling's affection a bit faster? Up to you, I'm very tired. I'll also let you decide how successful the Yandere is at Not Crossing Boundaries
My yans in general are yans because they have no sense of boundaries, do not care about these boundaries, or expect you to have no boundaries because they have none themselves.
I think the only yans in my roster that will definitely respect that in a direct sort of manner are the Midnight Darling (Yan! College) ones. Purely because the reader there is at the top of the foodchain and they have a system for organization’s sake. Most of them would still stalk you, or ‘feel’ you indirectly by taking your stuff. But if you ever voiced it out, they’ll make sure that no one messes with the lines you’ve set.
That being said, they do expect a reward and will very much coax it out of you if not outright force it if enough time has passed by that they get impatient.
Try not to implicate who didn’t respect your boundaries, unless you want them dead or humiliated to death. Though I do see them hunting your family members down since that’s where stuff like that usually happens eitherway (totally not speaking from personal experience h a h a)
Particularly speaking, Justin (Yan! Jock) is actually the best at keeping his hands to himself. He’s great at adjusting. You just have to not tick him off or intentionally provoke him and he’d basically do whatever you wish. He cares more for how he can serve you rather than how you can reciprocate his feelings.
Amir is also very good at respecting your boundaries. Physically speaking at the very least. He is incredibly bad at verbal boundaries and can easily say something real bad at the worst times, but he does apologize and feels awful afterwards. He does awkwardly hover over you sometimes and is too shy to ask for permission, so you have to read him yourself to know when to ply him with kisses.
The worst for respecting your boundaries would be Yichen (Yan! Himbo)
What are boundaries? You’ve been bros for forever! Friends don’t have boundaries! You guys should always be open to each other! And y’know what he’s been feeling rather pent up lately. Won’t you be a dear and jerk him off as you sit prettily on his lap?
God while his is more innocent in nature, there’s also someone I haven’t written specifically here yet but have been brainrotting in dms w/ @not-a-bot-just-shy . Caterpillar (Yan! Ex Goon/Now-A-Villain) who just doesn’t care entirely. You’re hers whether you like it or not. Who are you to set boundaries when she owns you? Possessions don’t have rights much less should have the ability to say no.
She’s very similar to The Scientist (it’s in the name) who doesn’t even see you as human. Reader in that story is a monster so it makes sense but 🤷♂️ i dunno sounds kinda fucked up-
but yeah, a lot of my ocs are crap at it ngl. They’re needy sluts.
#hns.ask💌#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere oc#yandere x you#yandere imagine#yandere fic#yandere oc x reader#yandere core#yandere x darling#male yandere#yandere male#yandere hcs#yandere headcannons#yandere x reader imagine#yandere scenario#fem yandere
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SHAMELESSLY ANNOYING Sevika
something me and my ADHD ass would do. Anyway, Reader annoying her very moody girlfriend.
• No matter what mood Sevika is in, she can't seem to get away from your stupid questions. Questions that either make no sense or are down right ridiculous.
• Sometimes they range from, "If i was a―" or "Would you love me if―"
• All you got in response to your half asked question was either a growl, or a sigh.
• The poor woman wouldn't even have a chance to play her cards because you would be there, on her lap trying to steal all of them from her. You got bored a lot.
• Half the time she had to wrap her metal arm around yours just so you would focus and let her play. She would never hurt you, just keep you at bay while she's busy.
• Your attention span to something or things always left you stressing out. Because you just couldn't focus on something for too long.
• Sevika would notice and run her fingers through your hair just to keep you aware, and always say that you're okay, and that she will be finished soon.
• Even if she doesn't let you mess with her cards, you instead will start poking her face, her nose. Anything on her face that you can see, you will touch. Even her knee for god sake.
• "Stop doing that"
• There were times where you were just a little too loud or hyper. Or you got too excited and ended up almost either whacking her in the face or shouting in her ear. "Sweetheart, relax. I'm right here, you don't have to yell" In that soft tone.
• She was the only person who is allowed to annoy you. So if someone says something about your behaviour, she's already plotting a murder. The woman's already ready to punch them just for their snarky comment.
• You, like usual are oblivious to it. Mainly because you're too focused on biting or kissing her neck.
• Again, no matter the time or day you can't help but ask her more stupid questions. "Do you think leaves have feelings?"
• "Baby, it's 2am. Go back to sleep"
• Sometimes you worried you were being too annoying. You were hyper as a child, you were outgoing and really fucking energetic and that would worry you. You worried you were being too much for her.
• Sevika being Sevika would reassure you that you're okay, and she loves you. You were in fact, the ray of sunshine and happiness they needed in Zaun.
• That still made you act like a damn brat, trying to steal her drinks any chance you got.
• "Sweetheart, you have 5 seconds to give me back my drink before i refuse to give you anymore hugs or kisses" She would always mutter, clenching her jaw tightly.
• You loved those, so you had no choice but to give it back to her.
• She will worry about you when you become silent at random times. It's just a habit you had. Especially if you were just really tired. She just frankly missed your questions. Secretly.
• It's scary, Sevika knows exactly when you're going to ask a question that makes no sense. You can't help but laugh knowing she will get annoyed. The only thing she will do is stare, and cover your mouth with her hand.
• Gives you the right to lick it.
• "You're disgusting"
• In the end, she loves everything about you. Yes, even your questions. You were always happy, something she couldn't understand but she also realised that it was who you were. She loved you either way.
• Also, if you weren't annoying her 24/7 then she's going to hunt down who upset you. She knows when you're not yourself. When you're not smiling, laughing or annoying her she knows something is wrong.
Note; I felt personally attacked by how I wrote about not being able to focus on anything for longer than a few minutes because of my ADHD. I'm out here trying to be cute and end up hurting my own feelings LMAO. I'm also feeling generous, i was going to post this in a few days but i have enough drafts to post until i feel better <3 🙏
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I have tried really hard to ignore anti nonsense. I just wanna focus on the good and positive side of this fandom and just enjoy the series in general. But it's also hard bottling up thoughts when I'm used to ranting for the sake of getting my thoughts and feelings out and moving then on.
So I'm gonna put a couple reactions to Anti-Related Hazbin things under the read more just to get them out! Because my god, some of these are bullshit!
Chaggie - I've seen so much bullshit citicizm for this ship. People claiming they're boring or bland or badly written and I have yet to see a legit reason why other than that they don't have any typical relationship drama (which, for the record, I personally am so relieved about) or because they're not being overly affectionate every five minutes of screen time. And you know, this especially drives me crazy because they have some of the sweetest little gestures, whether it be holding hands, hugging, swinging each other round or even just the constant damn heart eyes they have when looking at each other in the background! They're so damn precious and if you can't see that, you don't know what a legit established relationship is supposed to be past the honeymoon phase.
Charlie - People once again have claimed she's badly written. I don't know why people seem to hate happy kind hearted females so much but I have seen this exact complaint about many characters who are similar to her. None of which are actually badly written. They're just not the new stereotype "bad asses" that seems to be the only acceptable way to write a female character lately. Which is ironic since a lot of the so called "bad ass" female characters I have seen are often so one dimensional. Yet we have Charlie, a kind hearted but also sometimes naive girl who is doing her best while also learning with the rest of her friends and ya'll are gonna try and claim she's not amazing? The more I rewatch the show, the more I wanna reschedule my favorite character list because there's not a second I don't adore having her on my screen.
Niffty - This one really makes me want to slam my head against the wall. I have seen so many people complain and claim she acts like a child. Bare in mind, I've just watched episode 3 - you know, the one where Niffty is fully ready to throw herself into the BDSM that Angel takes them to. The only thing close to evidence that I have seen for her acting like a child is the episode where she gets drunk except she's still not acting like a child there, she's acting like a drunk! When some people are drunk they're silly and dumb and very "child-like". Otherwise, the only reason I think people call her a child is because she's is literally small like one. Yet, if you actually look at anything past her basic physical appearance, she's a crazy murder machine and I don't know many children I can also give that title to.
Angel - This is so old and everyone else has said this all so much better than me but I just really want to repeat: Just because it's not YOUR representation doesn't mean it's BAD representation. Just because you dealt with your sexual assault in a certain way does not mean everyone deals with it that way and it sure as hell doesn't give you a right to dismiss others. I have seen so many people say they identify with Angel's character and his hypersexuality, so it is so annoyingly arrogant to see people trying to shut them down entirely because Angel's character isn't portraying their personal reactions. It's just so amazingly self-centered to be saying that if you can't personally relate to it exactly, then it shouldn't exist at all. Seriously, grow the fuck up.
Loser Baby/Poison - Again, this has been said so many times before by other people but I'm gonna add/repeat. Some people take these songs and videos so damn literally. I saw someone claim Angel was happy during his dance with Valentino in Poison which apparently made the whole character a contradiction? Completely ignoring the parts where he's clearly miserable or the part where he's clearly putting on a fake smile or even the part where he all out says he dissociates to get through. And then you have Loser Baby where people are outraged that Husk call Angel a loser and is apparently trying to compare their situations? I mean, he's obviously not saying they're situations are the same if you think about it for more than two seconds. Like, are you seriously this literal? If I said the message went over your head, would ya'll look up?
#Hazbin Hotel#Mini Rant#Anti Anti's#Chaggie#Charlie Morningstar#Niffty#Angel Dust#Loser Baby#Poison#I have yet to see someone give these “critics”#that doesn't also openly hate Vivzie.#And I'm not even going into the Vivzie bs because that's so old#and I'm so over these haters.#Anway#I'm gonna post some random positive screen shots now#cause I'm keeping my attitude happy for this fandom#because I genuinely adore so much of it#I'm not letting haters ruin it for me.
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❝𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮❞
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — 𝐣𝐨𝐚𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐬 x 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 — i don't want to just be a passing ship in the night; what's that tradition about the bridal party? the groomsman and the maid of honor always hook up?
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 — 8.4K
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈, 𝟏𝟖+, strong language, penetrative sex, anal play, strangers to lovers, wedding shenanigans, groom & maid of honor shenanigans, slow burn, slight angst (it's me lol), honorifics (pretty girl, baby, sweetheart, baby girl)
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — yay for this finally seeing the light of day! and i've been to two weddings now so i can write from experience and i'm excited all over again lol. this also was a behemoth so yay for that
The warm summer air kissed along the tops of your shoulders, skirting your coils along in its stride. The low hum of smooth jazz played behind you as you took a sip of the wine you’d been nursing for the better part of an hour and let out a breath.
You heard your name. “There you are!”
Well, shit.
You playfully groaned and turned to face your older sister, the soon-to-be Mrs. Samuel Wilson. “Damn it! I thought this was the best hiding place!”
Nikki chuckled and bumped her shoulder against yours. “You haven’t won a game of hide and seek against me since you’ve been born. Give it up.” She tipped her chin to the half full wine glass. “Sam said he saw you knock back two flutes of champagne and then you disappeared. You good?”
“Yeah. Well, no.” You shook your head. “I’m just nervous.”
“Don’t worry,” Nikki said, looping her arm through her yours. “You’re one of the best speakers I know.”
“I guess.”
Nikki knitted her brows together. “What’s wrong?”
Your eyes flitted to the lilac sky. “Do you miss them? Mom and Dad?”
“You haven’t asked about them in years.”
You raised a shoulder. “I don’t know. I was just thinking earlier that you’re getting married tomorrow and that they weren’t going to be here. You’d think that they’d remember they have children for more than two seconds, y’know? Their eldest child is getting married, for Christ’s sake!”
Arms wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you backward. Though you were several inches taller than your sister, the hugs she gave dwarfed you both. You circled your arms around Nikki’s waist and buried your face in the curve of her shoulder.
“You’re such a worrier.” Nikki pulled back and put a hand on your cheek. “You are all the family I need to be here. Fuck what anyone else has to say about it.”
“But Sam — ”
“Sam loves me, with or without parents. He knew that coming into this relationship and hasn’t left yet.” Her lips pulled into a half smile. “Besides, who else is going to deal with me post-wedding?”
You gave her a flat look. “Your husband, dumbass.”
“Nope,” Nikki sang. “My loving, favorite baby sister will be.”
“I’m your only sibling, Nik.” You moved out of your sister’s embrace, a smile working its way to your lips. “Now you’re being gooey and that’s gross. We can’t let them know that we actually like each other.”
“Shut up. You love me.” A voice called to her from behind. “I’ll be right there!” She looked back to you. “You going to be okay?”
“Yeah.” You waved her off. “I’ll meet you inside in a bit.”
“Okay.” Nikki pulled you in for another hug. “Be quick.” She turned and walked to her fiancé’s proffered hand. His gaze found yours for a half a second before he gave her a soft smile.
You loved Sam; he was the safe harbor that Nikki needed after spending the better part of her teenage and young adult life taking care of you. Of course, Nikki took it all in stride and assured you that she wouldn’t have changed her life for another one.
But when Sam came into her life, there was someone else to share her burdens with. Someone to confide in with things you couldn’t understand. She found an equal, a man ready to include her in every aspect of his life. You couldn’t have asked for a better partner for Nikki.
But a part of you — a small, insecure part you often had to force down — felt out of place in their world. You were the kid sister, the child Nikki raised when she was barely older than a child herself. What place would you have in her life once they were married?
Yes, you’d been on your own for quite a few years since Nikki and Sam met but you always came back home to them. That would all change after Saturday.
No.
You were happy, ecstatic. This weekend wasn’t about you and your woes. It was about celebrating two people you loved most in the world.
Sam called out to you, worry in his tone.
“Coming!” You took one more look up at the sky before making the trek back to the hotel.
“Whose side are you from?”
You turned towards the voice beside you, your glass hovering in front of your lips. “Excuse me?”
A few errant black curls poorly masked deep-set and sharp dark eyes that burned into yours. Amused by your response, his lips quirked at the ends. “Are you from the bride’s side or the groom’s?”
“Oh.” You set your glass down. “Maid of honor and sister to the bride.”
Recognition colored his features, his index finger raised to you. “Sam told me about you!”
Your brows pulled down. “That sounds ominous.”
“No, no! I mean, they were all good things, I swear! Just —” He let out a nervous chuckle. “I’m messing this up.”
“Oh, most definitely,” you said, smiling. “But keep going. I want to see where this goes.”
He smiled and leaned in close, giving you a once over. “How about this?” He held up a hand. “My name is Joaquín Torres. My friends call me Joaco. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
A corner of your mouth quirked up as you took his hand and said your name. “Nice to meet you.”
“So is this your first? Wedding, I mean.”
“It is. None of my friends are anywhere near being ready to walk the aisle,” you said, taking a sip of your drink. “You?”
His smile was bright as he playfully motioned to himself. It did something to you, prickled your skin and tightened your belly. “I’m a professional groomsman.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“I don’t know what it is, but whenever my friends get married, they immediately think of me. I’m pretty sure I went to, like, seven weddings last summer.”
You held up your glass to him. “Impressive. Have you ever been best man?”
Joaquín smiled, his right cheek dimpling. “Not yet.”
“Same here.” You clapped a hand to your face. “I mean, that it’s my first time being maid of honor.”
He laughed quietly. “You’re fine.”
“Please, talk more so that I can push down my embarrassment.”
“Okay, uh, where are you coming from?”
“Technically, I’m visiting from Georgia, but I’m from New York. Brooklyn.”
Joaquín raised a brow. “What’s in Georgia?”
You let out a half-scoff, half-chuckle, your index finger circling the mouth of your glass. “I just got out of a shitty relationship with this guy a few months back, so I impulsively took a remote position in Atlanta.”
“Well, that’s…interesting.”
“I have the lovely tendency to fall in love recklessly and hopelessly.” You took a long sip of your drink. “Even if I know that that person doesn’t feel the same way about me.”
He lifted a shoulder. “Beats being so oblivious that you don’t even notice when people like you and you spend most of your time pining over them just for them to say that they were flirting the whole time.”
“If I were flirting with you, you’d know,” you said, taking a sip of your drink.
Your name left his tongue in a drawl. “Are you coming onto me?”
Your face warmed. You gave a weak snort. “Yeah, right. Don’t flatter yourself.” Joaquín’s knuckles brushed up against the back of your fingers. You gripped your glass tighter. “So, I guess that means we’re aisle buddies, huh?”
Aisle buddies? Really?
“We are. I promise not to let you fall.”
You raised a brow. “Did you just quote Twilight to me?”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” He tipped his chin to your glass. “Rum and Coke?”
“Jack and Coke. They only had spiced rum and I’m not a fan.”
“I love a girl who loves her whiskey.”
You laughed. “You’d have especially liked me in college, then. I was a whiskey drinking machine.” You splayed your free hand along the top of the bar. “Was even known to dance on a few tables.”
“Now that I’d love to see.”
You knocked back the rest of your drink and put a hand on Joaquín’s knee, a smile creeping onto your lips. You were no stranger to a little harmless flirting every now and again. But here, with this bright, infectious man, your words could mean something headier. Something more…suggestive. “Those days are behind me.”
“Well now I’m sad that I didn’t get a chance to see you in your prime.”
You rested your chin on your palm, giving him a once over. “We can’t be that far apart in age, can we? You’re, like, twenty-nine at minimum.”
Joaquín leaned closer, his cologne permeating your senses. “I just turned twenty-eight.”
“So, a year older, depending on your birthday,” you quipped, “good to know I’m not the only twenty-something in the wedding party.”
You went back and forth like this for some time. You shared childhood stories of you and Nikki and he told you stories about his and Sam’s time in university.
“You don’t peg me as the frat guy type,” you remarked at one point.
“I get that a lot. I was a freshman by the time Sam and Steve were chapter president and vice president, respectively. ” He rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous chuckle passing his lips. “I honestly didn’t think I’d get in. I bullshitted through the rush questions and barely made it through the challenges but, somehow, I got in.”
You smiled. “And made a new friend as dorky as you are.”
Joaquín laughed. “Sam’s great. I couldn’t have asked for a better frat brother. I was really surprised when he asked me to be one of his groomsmen. I haven’t really kept in touch as well as I wanted to, but it’s been great seeing him and hanging out with him again.”
“That’s sweet. His best man, Steve, is the blond, right?”
He nodded. “They’ve been friends since they were in high school, I think. Their friend, Bucky, is also a groomsman.”
“I practically begged Nikki to have one of her friends or her sorors be her maid of honor and she looked at me like I was crazy.”
“Sam said that she basically raised you.”
You shook your head, chuckling. “He’s such a sweetheart. Our parents are narcissists, to put it plainly. They love each other fine, but they couldn’t extend that to us. At first, it was just leaving an eight year old Nikki in charge of a two year old for a couple hours every other week. Then, they wouldn’t come home some days.
“Nikki made the best of it, though. She’d make sure that I never realized how bad things were until I was old enough to understand. By then, we were living with our grandmother and she finally got to be a teenager, you know?” You dabbed at your eyes. “She took it harder than I did. She knew our parents longer so them leaving hurt her more than it ever could me.”
“I’m sorry.” Joaquín put a hand on your elbow. “Your parents don’t deserve either one of you.”
You waved him off. “I know. I’m just glad that she gets her own happiness for once. Sam’s a good guy.” You gave a light shrug. “And he likes me for some reason which makes me question his sanity.”
“I’ve only known you for,” he glanced at his wristwatch, “a little over two hours and I like you.”
“You barely know me enough to say that you like me.”
“So let me get to know you, then. We have all weekend, don’t we?”
The DJ announced last call and you both locked gazes. Gooseflesh spread along your arms and your heart beat against your chest. Your hand was still above his knee, fingers splayed out wide. Your eyes were on him but focused on hazy thoughts in your head. What would his lips feel like if you touched the very tip of your finger against them? Your lips?
He was probably a great kisser. Dominant, needy —
“Hey.”
You blinked and snatched your hand away. “Sorry! I, uh — just a little tipsy, I guess.”
Joaquín smiled. “It’s fine. I was saying that it was getting late and I could walk you up to your room.”
“No, I’m good. The walk should sober me up some.” You stood up. “It was nice meeting you, Joaquín Torres.”
“You, too. I’ll be the best aisle buddy you’ve ever had.”
“You’re going to hold that against me all weekend, aren’t you?”
He ran a hand through his curls. “I’m going to run it into the ground.”
You rolled your eyes, a small smile creeping up on your lips, and turned on your heel to leave.
Despite being a tad bit hungover, you were still fairly refreshed.
You couldn’t stop thinking about Joaquín, your mind making him a feature in a hazy dream you half-remembered. There was a genuineness to him that you admired, a warmth that you wanted bask in for a long time. The way that he gave you his undivided attention as you rambled or even when you weren’t speaking made your heart flutter in your chest.
What was that saying about the bridal party and groomsmen at weddings?
“Nice to see you again, aisle buddy.”
Speak of the Devil.
Your lips quirked. “Good morning, Mr. Torres.”
He ran a hand through his already tousled hair. Unlike the slicked back style from last night, the longer part of his hair was set in loose curls and fell in his eyes. The barest hint of a five o’ clock shadow lined his angular cheeks and jaw. He was so damn attractive. So unfair.
“How did you sleep?”
“Very well, thank you.” He gave you a warm smile. “And yourself?”
You hummed as you lifted your shoulders in a shrug. “Pretty good.” You pointed a thumb over your shoulder. “Did you see the omelet bar the hotel has going?”
“I did. I got a veggie omelet and turkey bacon.” He held up his coffee mug. “Did you get any coffee? They said it’s Colombian.”
You shook your head and nodded to your teacup. “I’m weaning myself off of caffeine.” You tipped your chin towards the slip of paper beside his plate. “Is that the itinerary Nikki slid under everyone’s doors?”
“It is. On today’s agenda: ballroom dancing from noon to one; walking tour of the church from one-thirty to two-fifteen; the bridal party and the groomsmen go to their final fittings at three-thirty.” He shook his head and chuckled. “She’s efficient, your sister.”
“She’s been planning this day since she, like, was eleven.” You took a piece of turkey bacon from Joaquín’s plate. You didn’t react to the flit of his gaze as he watched you bring the food to your lips. You chewed slowly, innocently, your eyes on his.
The faintest hint of a smirk played at his lips. “You enjoying that bacon, sweetheart?”
“Very much.” You licked your lips and threw him a bright smile. “You should ask Nikki her about her wedding binder. She started making it when she was in middle school and finished it before my junior year of high school.”
“Sounds like my cousin, Luisa.” Joaquín playfully groaned. “When she was thirteen, she and my mother spent an entire Sunday afternoon cutting out pictures from bridal and travel magazines and doodling in the margins about her perfect wedding when she got older.”
“That’s adorable.”
“So what about you? Any wedding binders stashed in an old bedroom somewhere?”
“I haven’t put much thought into getting married. I mean, I guess sometime down the line I’d like to get married but maybe not, you know? Maybe I’m not the settling down type.” You lifted a shoulder and looked to Joaquín. “What about you? Is there someone back home you’re ready to settle down with?”
“I don’t know about that but there is someone that I’d love to get to know better.”
You playfully bumped your elbow with his. “Do they have a name?”
Joaquín gave a conspiratorial grin as he raised his mug to his lips. “I’ll tell you later.”
Sam called out to you, cackling. “Lookin’ good out there!”
“Fuck off, Wilson!”
You turned back to Joaquín, rolling your eyes as the dance instructor yelled for you to loosen up. When you stepped on his foot for the third time, you winced. “Sorry!”
He chuckled as he gave your hips a reassuring squeeze. “You’re fine, Y/N. Just breathe.”
You nodded, your eyes going back to your feet. You don’t know how many months you spent begging your sister to take you out of the dance portion of the reception. Even as children, you were so awkward that you didn’t dare try to mimic the fluid rhythms your sister and cousins displayed.
“Are you sure you don’t want to switch partners?” You nodded towards one of your sister’s sorority sisters. “Paula is a much better dancer and she’s really funny.”
Joaquín threw his head back and laughed. “I’m sure she’s great but you’ve charmed me from the moment you very brazenly flirted with me at the bar. You’re stuck with me, I’m afraid.”
You snorted, small smile growing in the curves of your mouth. “Shut up. You flirted with me first.”
“There’s that smile.” His fingers tapped your waist. “Follow my lead, okay? I’ve got you.”
The instructor clapped out another eight count and Joaquín swept you off of your feet, literally and figuratively. You beamed as you both glided across the floor, amazed that you hadn’t stopped the beautiful flow he was creating.
“See? You’re a natural,” he said, pride in his tone.
His warm gaze took the breath from your lungs so all you could do was nod.
“All right, class!” The instructor clapped their hands. “That’s all for today! Great job!” They nodded to you and Joaquín. “Especially from you two.”
Your face burned as your sister and her friends cheered.
You turned to Joaquín. “You’re a saint, you know that?”
He waved off your words. “You’re not as bad as you think you are. Just got to let those nerves go.” He leaned in closer. “Did you want to grab lunch? There’s a little bistro near the hotel that I wanted to try. “
Nikki appeared suddenly, smiling at Joaquín. “You don’t mind me stealing your partner, do you?”
“Nikki — ”
“Don’t keep her away too long.” He’d said the words so casually, so easy. Like he’d been asked about the weather or what sports team he rooted for. “She still hasn’t told me more about her whiskey weekends.”
Your face warmed as your sister’s wide brown eyes found yours. “Whiskey weekends, huh?”
You ignored her, your eyes on him. “How about dinner instead? Seven okay?”
Joaquín’s cheeks dimpled as he smiled. “Seven is perfect.” He nodded to your sister. “She’s all yours, boss.”
“Bye, Joaquín.”
You grabbed Nikki’s wrist and dragged her towards the exit, her laugh echoing throughout the studio. When you reached the parking lot, you fixed her with a glare. “What the hell was that!”
She feigned surprise. “What?”
“Don’t do that. Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.” She crossed her arms. “Joaco and I are —”
“So, it’s Joaco, now?” You groaned. “C’mon, anybody would have to blind to not see the way you two look at each other! He’s hot, you’re hot. What’s the problem?”
“Not the point,” you deadpanned. “I barely know him. We probably won’t even see each other after the wedding so what’s the point starting something we won’t finish?”
“Who says you won’t finish it? You literally told me last week that you were thinking of moving back.”
“He lives in the city?”
Nikki frowned. “Did he not tell you that? He and Sam work together. He used to live in Arizona but when Sam and Steve asked if he wanted to go into business with them, he relocated.”
That changed things. It had been easier to imagine a torrid coupling that ended with you never crossing paths again, but if he’d be living in the city — working with Sam, whose company wasn’t that far from where you lived — made your belly clench.
“Huh.”
“Is that a ‘huh, I should listen to my sister for once and ask out the hot best man’ or ‘huh, I’m about to overthink everything because now said best man is going to be close’?”
You flattened your features. “You’re so funny.”
A shit-eating grin stretched across Nikki’s face. “And brilliant and all-knowing. Don’t forget that.” Her smile fell some and she gave you a solemn look. “You know I’m just messing with you, right?”
“I know.”
“Hey.” She put a hand to your cheek. “Don’t do that.”
Your brows canted. “Do what?”
“Make that face,” she gestured with her hands, “and start thinking that something’s wrong with you.”
“Isn’t there? I was with Dante for, what, six months? He’s probably the longest relationship I’ve ever had and I hated every second of it.” You pressed the heel of your palm against your forehead. “Maybe I’m not built for forever, y’know?”
Nikki gathered you into her arms. “You’re nothing like them, do you hear me?”
“Maybe I am, Nik. Maybe all I want is the idea of someone but not the person themselves. I don’t want to do that to Joaquín. He’s so sweet and funny and I’m just —”
She pulled back, a smile on her lips. “You have so much love and care to give and anyone would be lucky to get to be loved by you.”
The corner of your mouth lifted. “You’re just saying that.”
“I’m your sister, I don’t have to spare your feelings. But should anything go awry, I’ll be there to protect you and help pick up the pieces.” She held up her pinky finger. “Swear.”
You chuckled and looped your finger around hers. “Swear.”
“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”
Nikki had insisted on taking you shopping for a new outfit and you’d decided on a beautiful, form-fitting brown satin dress that stopped just above your knees and brown chunky platform heels. You kept your makeup fairly neutral and let your curls frame your face and hang down your shoulders and back. Around your neck were a simple gold necklace stack and gold rings adorned your fingers.
“I’m pretty sure you’ve built my ego tenfold.” Your eyes glanced around the restaurant. “You didn’t say how nice this place was. We could’ve gone somewhere cheaper.”
A wolfish grin curled at the corners of Joaquín’s mouth. “How was I supposed to impress you if I just took you out to a drive-thru?”
You playfully rolled your eyes. “Chivalry doesn’t die just because you took me to Wendy’s. But thank you for asking me out.”
“I’m surprised you said yes, honestly.” You scoffed. “Hand to God! You’re one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met.”
“I don’t know about that. You and Sam must work with some pretty cool clients at the firm.”
“You’re infinitely cooler, sweetheart. Trust me.”
You pushed down the elation at hearing the pet name and set the menu down. “Tell me about yourself.”
He leaned in close. “What do you want to know?”
“Tell me about your family. Do you have any siblings?”
“No siblings. My dad owns a mechanic shop and my mom and aunt run a small restaurant in Phoenix. I was born in Sonoita, Arizona, this tiny place with less than a thousand people.”
“Coming to the city must’ve been a culture shock.”
Joaquín chuckled. “Hit me like a fuckin’ brick, let me tell you.”
“So, how’d you meet back up with Sam? I remember you saying that you lost touch after college.”
“After university, I applied to, maybe, fifty positions with over a hundred different corporate firms and I was striking out left and right. Sam messaged me on Instagram a little while later asking to catch up. When he first asked me to join his firm, I tuned him down.”
“Why?”
He lifted his shoulders. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Sam. He’s one of the best guys I know. But I didn’t want him to just give me a job, y’know?”
You nodded. “That’s fair but I don’t see Sam as being the type to hand out opportunities to just anyone. If he offered you a position, it’s because he believes in you.”
Joaquín smiled. “I suppose so.”
Your server came back with your drink orders. He smiled at you, his notepad in hand. “And are we ready to order? We have a butternut squash risotto as one of our specials, if you’re interested.”
“That actually sounds delicious.” You looked to Joaquín. “Is it okay if I get that?”
“You get whatever you want, sweetheart.”
Your cheeks burned and you, thankfully, didn’t stumble over reciting your order. As Joaquín spoke to the server, you couldn’t help giving him a once over. He wore a navy blue dress shirt that looked painted on, the top three buttons undone. His curls were messily styled and falling in his eyes. His face was clean-shaven save for his goatee and mustache. His big hands were adorned with silver rings. Much like the first night you met, your mouth watered at the thought of those hands on you. How rough or soft they’d feel against your skin.
His gaze found yours and he winked at you. You needed him carnally.
“I think he likes you.”
Your brows pulled down. “What?”
“Our server. He hasn’t stopped looking at you since we got here.” He chuckled. “I can’t blame him.”
“You’re doing it again.”
He raised a brow. “Doing what?”
“Flirting with me,” you said, taking a sip of your drink. “Keep doing that and I’ll get the wrong idea.”
“Maybe it’s not the wrong idea. Maybe it’s right.”
“Look, Joaquín, I don’t know if it’s because of the wedding or if this is one of those rom-com scenarios, but I like you. A lot. But I’ve never been good at relationships and I don’t want to ruin whatever this is before it even gets off the ground.”
He put a hand over one of yours. “I’m willing to go as fast or as slow as you want to.”
“And what if you get tired of waiting for me?”
“How about we just get through dinner first, then the wedding, and we’ll meet each other in the middle?” Your food was sat down in front of you but his hand never left the top of yours. “If after this weekend, you don’t want to keep in touch, I won’t be upset.” He cocked his head to the side. “Okay, I might be a little upset but I’ll respect your decision.”
You nodded, a small smile pulling at your lips. “I can do that.”
“Good.” He leaned back into his seat and picked up his fork, his eyes still on you. “Now, I have an important question to ask you.”
You narrowed your eyes. “Okay…”
“Do you like scary movies?”
“What’re you reading?”
You ducked your head between the pages of your book. “Jesus Christ, don’t do that!”
“Sorry. I thought you heard me coming up behind you.” Joaquín tapped the top of your bare knee with a callused finger. “Must be quite an engrossing read.”
“Something like that.” You slid your glasses to the top of your head. “What are you doing up so late?”
He lifted a shoulder. “I’m a bit of an insomniac. What about you?”
“Nerves.” You held your book up. “Figured I’d finish this book I found in my room.”
“Verdict?”
“I should’ve just gotten a drink at the bar before they closed,” you said, snorting.
“We can crack open a bottle in my room if you want.”
You raised a brow. “You raid the mini bars at hotels?”
“God, no! That’s a scam waiting to happen.” A smile grew along his lips. “I bring my own poison.”
You raised a brow. “What kind of alcohol are we talking?”
Joaquín leaned in towards you, his voice low and husky. “I’m a whiskey man.”
God, you could get lost in his eyes. Where most people would leer at you or completely ignore you, Joaquín seemed to be looking to the very soul of you. You could’ve told him anything and everything, given him whatever he wanted.
“And I think I have snacks from my plane ride here.”
You doggy eared your book page and stood to your feet. “Lead the way.”
Joaquín looped his arm through yours and led you down the hallway towards the main lobby. You both must have looked silly to passerby: both of you in pajamas, giggling like teenagers. You caught the elevator just as two people got off and you pressed the seven button.
Once the doors closed, a tension filled the car. Every so often, one of you would shift your weight and the backs of your hands would brush against each other, both of you muttering hushed apologies to each other.
Hazy, heated thoughts ran rampant in your mind. Out of your peripheral, you saw Joaquín leaned up against the railing on the right side of the car. Everything about him just oozed sexy: from the way his shirt stretched across his broad shoulders and biceps, to how perfectly his curls fell in his eyes before he pushed it back with one of his strong hands.
His hands. God, his hands.
You shifted your weight again, discreetly rubbing her thighs together to diffuse the tension between your legs. The elevator music suddenly seemed louder and deafening.
“…okay?”
You blinked and turned to Joaquín. He was in front of you now, his hands reaching for you but not quite touching you. Worry painted his features.
“What?”
“We’re on our floor.” His eyes skimmed your face. “Are you okay?”
You nodded, an apologetic smile on your lips. “Sorry, I was just lost in thought.” You cleared your throat and stepped past him out of the elevator. The heat from his body laved against your back. You started towards the left before you turned to look at him over your shoulder.
“I don’t know where your room is,” you said, your voice small.
Joaquín took one of your wrists in his hand and said, “I’ve got you.”
You decided that you loved the way Joaquín laughed.
His eyes crinkled at the sides as he clutched his sides. Sometimes a small snort would pass his lips and it made him laugh even harder. He looked boyish, gentle.
You were sat in the middle of his hotel room floor, the bottle of Jack Daniels between the two of you and the TV turned low in the background. You’d just told him about your first encounter with the Chuck E. Cheese mascot and how the poor then teenager got a swift kick to the groin by an eight year old.
“God, that was great.” He dabbed at the corners of his eyes. “Do you make everyone you drink with laugh this much?”
You knocked back the last of your glass. “Not intentionally.”
“Funny and beautiful,” Joaquín said, toasting to you. “One of my favorite combinations.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls.”
“I only want one to believe me.”
“I want to try something. Is that okay?” He nodded. “I need you to say it out loud.”
“Yes.”
You crawled towards him and experimentally straddled him, your hands on his shoulders. Your heart was pounding and you were getting lightheaded but you held your resolve. “Kiss me.”
One of his hands cupped the back of your neck and pulled you in for a slow, hard kiss. His tongue laved the inside of your mouth and you moaned. Your fingers carded through his curls, pulling him closer to you. Teeth clanged against each other as lips were pulled between them, soft moans spilling into the silent void around you both.
Joaquín pulled back. “I’ve been wanting to do that since that first night in the bar.”
You smiled. “Me, too.” Your eyes found the digital clock over his shoulder. “It’s late. I should go.”
“No,” he whined, caging you against his chest. “Stay.”
You pressed a soft kiss to his jaw. “I can’t. Not tonight.”
His brown eyes brightened. “So tomorrow night?”
“Maybe. If you behave.” You disentangled yourself from his embrace and stood to your feet. “Goodnight, Mr. Torres.”
“See you in the morning.”
The morning of the wedding started slower than you thought it would have.
You had been sitting in the makeup chair for ten minutes, waiting for Nikki to emerge from behind the folding screen set up in the middle of the room. The bridesmaids were getting ready in the suite next door and you and Nikki shared this suite.
“You look beautiful.”
You turned and saw Nikki; her dress was beautiful: the sleeves were delicate lace and looked beautiful against her brown skin. The back of the dress plunged low and fed into the skirt that trailed behind her. She decided to keep her makeup and hair simple with a natural look and her coils swept up into a polished bun.
You blinked furiously. “You look so beautiful but if I cry, I’m sure the makeup artist will murder me.”
Nikki chuckled. “Me? You look stunning.”
“Compared to you, I look like Ernie from Sesame Street.”
She rolled her eyes. “Take the compliment, you goof.”
You stood up from your chair and pulled her into a hug. “I’m so proud of you.”
“I’m proud of you, too.” Nikki pulled back, her eyes misty. “I couldn’t do any of this without you.” You snorted. “I’m serious! You might not think it, but you’ve been a huge inspiration to me.”
“Bullshit.”
Nikki laughed. “Remember when we went camping that one summer? With Granny and her boyfriend, Alvin?”
You nodded. “We went hiking while they were taking a nap and got lost.” You had wanted to go find a creek that you’d passed on the way to your camping spot.
“You were, what, nine? Ten?”
“I was eight and a half,” you said, smirking.
“We’d gotten lost and I got so scared. I started crying and I think I said Mom’s name.” Nikki shook her head. “I was crying and tired and the last thing I wanted was to keep getting lost.
“But then you bent down and wiped my tears away. You were barely nine years old and you made sure that I was okay before we finally found a park ranger.” She put a hand to your cheek. “Do you remember what you said to me?”
“I said that we would always have each other. No matter what.”
Nikki nodded. “I know that our childhood was less than ideal, shitty at best. I know that outside of Granny, all we had was each other and that made our relationship a little more complicated than other siblings. But there’s not a day that goes by when I’m not in total awe of you.”
“Oh, yeah, my impulsivity and lacking love life are aspirational.”
“You’re one of the strongest people I know,” she rebutted. “As much as I raised you, you raised me, too. You taught me about passion and determination. You’ve made me think outside of the box and go after things that I want. You showed me what being a kid was and how we shouldn’t want to grow up too fast. Anything I learned about self-love and confidence, I got from you.”
You tilted your head back. “The makeup artist had me in the chair for forty minutes, Nikki! I can’t cry off all of her hard work!”
She pulled you into a hug. “No matter what happens, no matter what stages of life we’re in, it’s always going to be us against the world. Don’t ever doubt that.”
You nodded against her shoulder. “I love you, Nikki.”
“I love you, too.”
A knock came upon the door and the wedding planner, Natasha, poked her head in. “It’s time, you guys.” A warm smile crossed her lips. “You both look gorgeous, truly.”
“Thank you,” Nikki said. She squared her shoulders and looped her arm with her yours. “We’re ready.”
You were all too aware of Joaquín’s presence beside you.
It didn’t help that he looked downright sinful in his suit. Did he paint the damn thing on or did it just fit him too well? His hair was artfully messy, curls falling in his eyes. His knuckles brushed up against yours a few times, so soft you’d thought you imagined the contact.
“You’re killing me,” he said against your ear.
You arched a brow. “What?”
“It’s taking all of my self-control not to whisk you off to the church basement and have my way with you.” His voice was rough. “Remind me to personally thank your sister for choosing the dress.”
A triumphant smirk colored your lips. “Noted.”
The organ kicked up and Joaquín turned to face you. “Ready?” He held out his arm.
You nodded and looped your arm through his. The ushers opened the doors and you were met with the guests and white rose covered aisle. As you waited for the second to last pair of the wedding party to head down the aisle, Joaquín leaned in towards you again, his breath laving the shell of your ear.
“I won’t let you fall.”
The couple in front of you started down the aisle and you gripped onto Joaquín’s arm tighter. Once the others were further up the aisle, he took a step forward and you followed. Every few steps, you stole glances at him, your breath catching. Once you were at the foot of the altar, he held his arm up for you to stand beside the other bridesmaids and he crossed over to the groom’s side.
“Dearly beloved. We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of this lovely couple.”
Joaquín caught your eye as the pastor continued his speech. His happiness shone so bright on his face that you couldn’t help but mirror it. You like the rest of the crowd, were brought to tears by the Sam and Nikki’s vows and cheered like sports fans when they kissed as man and wife.
As they were about to step down from the altar, Nikki pulled you into a crushing hug. She whispered teary thank-yous and pressed a kiss to your cheek.
“I love you. So much.”
You looked over your sister’s shoulder to your newly minted brother-in-law. “See you for dinner in two weeks?”
Sam smiled and took hold of your wrist. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
You needed an out. Quickly.
Your speech at the reception had most of the room in tears and a few of the wedding party members congratulated you off to the side. When it was time for the waltz, the tension between you and Joaquín was smoldering and all-consuming. All you could think about was his lips on yours.
Before Sam and Nikki made their way to the middle of the dance floor, Joaquín whispered in your ear, “You have two hours.”
“For what?”
“Until you’re mine for the rest of the night.” The noise that left your throat was suffocated by the cheers and applauds for the bride and groom but you knew that he heard it. He moved to go sit at his table before you could get the words off of your tongue.
You kept up appearances as well as you could but during lapses in conversation, your attention wandered to Joaquín. He teased you, subtly biting and licking his lips or giving you quick once overs as he spoke to some distant relative of yours.
Nikki and Sam gave were basking in their marital bliss and, thankfully, didn’t notice the two of you shamelessly flirting from across the ballroom.
The evening died down and Joaquín offered to walk you back to your room. You agreed, ignoring the teases from Nikki and Sam, and let him lead you out of the ballroom. Once the elevator doors closed, his hands were on your skin. Hot, open-mouthed kisses scorched the curve of your neck and shoulders. Hands buried themselves into your hair, holding you firm against the man in front of you.
You didn’t remember how you’d gotten to his floor without bumping into other guests or falling over each other, but you did. The beep of Joaquín’s keycard unlocking the suite door made your heartbeat kick up.
“That dress is sinful on you, you know that?”
“Wait, wait.” You pulled back. “Help me out of this dress. It cost a fucking fortune.”
“My pleasure.” His fingers deftly worked at the buttons on the back of your dress. Once the garment loosened against your shoulders, his fingers hooked around the straps and slid them down slow. Soft kisses peppered along the back of your shoulders. “Such soft skin you have.”
You leaned into his touch, a soft groan falling from your lips. Cool air gave your skin gooseflesh and you shuddered. Your dress pooled around your ankles and you were clad only in your lingerie. You smirked at his sharp inhale. To know that someone as gorgeous as Joaquín Torres was taken aback at the sight of your half-naked body emboldened you.
You tipped your chin. “Kiss me.”
He took your face in his hands and leaned in. His lips hovered over yours, barely skimming the flesh. He was teasing you, you knew that. What you wouldn’t have given to just melt into his touch and be the first to kiss him. But you cut your gaze between his lips and his eyes, silently daring him to make the move.
He chuckled. “You’re a stubborn one, aren’t you?”
You ran your thumb along the length of his hand. “Determined, actually.”
“You know that you could kiss me first.”
You let out a breathy sigh. “Where’s the fun in that?”
Joaquín smirked and pressed a bruising kiss to your lips. His tongue laved across the top of yours and his moans vibrated through you. His hands brought your face closer and deepened the kiss. “Jesus, doll, you taste like heaven.”
You rested your forehead against his to catch your breath. You tried to think of something to say, anything to say, but your mind was fogged from kissing him.
He moved you towards the bed and laid you down, kneeling in between your thighs. “I want to taste you.”
You shivered at his words. “Do you?”
One of Joaquín’s hands skimmed a languid trail between the valley of your breasts. His fingertips danced a trail along the soft expanse of your torso, earning him soft gasps and caught sighs. When his fingertips hovered above the waistband of your underwear, his brown eyes met yours again. “Or perhaps I should tease you? Make you beg?”
“I don’t beg.” Your voice was breathy, weak, as you spoke.
“Where’s the fun in that?” He was mocking you, teasing just as you’d done to him moments earlier. His fingers dipped below the elastic, tip-toeing across the top of your pubic mound. Your hips bucked and his lips split into a cocky grin.
“My, my, aren’t we eager?” The very tip of his middle finger hovered above your clitoral hood, tracing a half-circle along the skin. Joaquín looped an arm around your waist to keep you balanced and made slow, teasing circles against your clit.
You screwed your eyes shut and sank your teeth into your bottom lip. A moan threatened to pass your lips but you stifled it. Your fists balled against Joaquín’s shoulders as ripples of pleasure surged through you. “Joaco.”
“I can get used to you calling me that.” His lips trailed along the curve of your jaw. “I bet you’re all wet for me, aren’t you?” Two fingers entered your sex and made a come hither motion. A shock of pleasure rocked you and you let out a moan. “Love how wet you are for me.”
You tried to speak his name but garbled moans left your tongue instead. A warm slickness played at your clit and you let out a cry.
“You taste so sweet, darlin’,” he said against you. “Bet I can make you come all over my tongue.”
Your back arched off the bed and your mouth hung open in wild pleasure as Joaquín ate your pussy like it was his favorite meal. Your toes curled against his back and your thighs all but crushed him against you.
“Fuck, Joaquín, don’t stop!”
He moaned against your sex, the sound of your wetness and his tongue lapping bounced off of the walls. He lifted up and smiled a devilish smile at you. “Such a good girl getting wet for me like this. Making such a pretty mess.” He nipped at your inner thigh and kissed the bruises he left behind. His thick fingers gathered some of your juices and traveled down to play at your asshole. He groaned at how pretty and puckered it was. “Such a pretty little hole.”
One of his digits pushed against the puckered hole and your back arched up again and a throaty moan left your mouth.
“Fuck!”
“You like that, darlin’? Like when I play with your ass?” He worked his finger further into you and another cry broke from your lips. “Your pretty pussy is weeping. Do you play with your asshole when you’re alone, baby girl?” He kissed up your body, lips latching onto one of your pert nipples.
You fisted the sheets and bucked your hips as Joaquín stretched and finger fucked your ass. Tears welled in the corners of your eyes and broken cries of his name filled the room. For a second, you remembered you were in a hotel room and that whoever was in the rooms opposite them could hear you getting absolutely destroyed.
Hope they’re enjoying the show, then.
Your belly tightened and your legs shook as your orgasm rushed through you. A broken sob ripped through you and you flattened on the bed, shivering and sweat-slicked. Joaquín’s fingers left your ass and he slanted his mouth over yours.
“Oh, my pretty girl.” He pushed away tendrils of curls that were stuck to your forehead. “How did I get so lucky to find you?”
You gave a weak chuckle. “You’re one of my brother-in-law’s best friends. The cosmos saw something in you. Take your pick.” You heard the clicking of his belt buckle and your mouth watered.
“Think you can play a little longer, baby?” He lined himself up with your pussy. “Because I’ve been waiting to feel you around my cock for the past twenty-something hours.”
A wicked glint flashed in your brown eyes. “What are you waiting for, then, Torres?”
He didn’t need to be told twice. He lined the head of his cock with your pussy and sank deep inside of you. You threw your head back in pleasure as your walls fluttered around him.
“You’re real fuckin’ tight, honey. Feels so good.”
Your nails bit into his shoulders as you bucked your hips into his. “Fuck me, Joaco.”
His hips moved against yours slow at first. He circled his hips and thrusted in and out of you at a torturous pace. He snickered at your needy whines and mewls. “Such a greedy pussy you have.” His hips snapped against yours and you gasped. “Makes me think nobody treats your pretty pussy like they should. Is that what it is, baby?”
Your head lolled from side to side and your words faded into moans. Then, his hips rutted into you at a brutal pace and a swelling orgasm built in your belly. Spots darkened your sight and one of your hands fisted his hair. “I’m going to cum!”
Joaquín took his lips from the hollow of your neck. “I’m almost there, baby, hold on.” He pressed his forehead against yours and rutted harder into you. When his thrusts got sloppier, he let out a groan and you felt his cock twitch inside of you as you chased after your own climax.
He collapsed on top of you, hard pants mixing with soft chuckles. He lifted his head and pressed a kiss to the apex of your collarbones. “Nikki said something about you moving back to the city.”
You hummed. “She told me that you were planning to stay in the city.”
“I technically moved back a few weeks ago. I haven’t told Sam or Steve yet.”
You brushed a few curls from his sweat-damp forehead. “I might need a place to crash for a few days until my stuff arrives.”
One of his hands gripped your ass, softly kneading the skin. “Or you could stay for as long as you want and we could see where this goes.”
“You’re sure?”
He pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “I’ve never been more sure about anything else. I meant it when I said that I think you’re incredible. If I can keep you with me for as long as I can, I will.”
You smiled. “Okay.”
“Seriously?” He cupped your cheek, your name a light chuckle on his tongue. “You want to try with me?”
As you opened your mouth to answer, a knock came upon the door. Joaquín groaned and rested his head against your shoulder. “It’s probably a noise complaint.”
“You go answer, then. It was mostly you.” You smacked him in the face with a pillow. “Fine, fine! I’m getting up!” You let out a low whistle as he padded across the room, completely naked, and went to open the door. You couldn’t hear who the other voice was but you figured it wasn’t serious from Joaquín’s belly laugh.
“Who is it?”
He shut the door and came back into view, your sister’s bouquet in his left hand. “I don’t know if I should laugh or be offended.”
You rolled your eyes. “They think they’re so funny.”
“I don’t know, baby, maybe we’ll be next.” Joaquín set the bouquet on the nightstand and climbed back into bed, pulling you against him. “I think we’d make a great married couple.”
“Let’s get through me staying with you before we jump straight to marriage, Casanova.”
“You didn’t say no.”
You smiled. “We’ll discuss it.”
𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — not gon' hold y'all, this made me fall in love with joaco something fucking fierce
#galatially#the way that i want you#joaquín torres#joaquín torres x black!reader#the falcon#the falcon x black!reader
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Sparring Session - Soap x F!oc
Just a Soap Drabble. I love this trope and I’ve not written for the Scottish god himself yet.
This is a self insert (kinda) cause god damn it I want this to be me. Descriptors of moi in here. Female reader.
Warnings - descriptions of violence, knife play, implied smut (I think)
The requested part 2
‘Good to see you again love’ Price’s warm smile welcomed you into his office. Smiling back you met the Captain in a hug ‘So good to see you John! It’s been ages, the boys still giving you trouble?’
‘Like you wouldn’t believe’ he snorted as he pinched the bridge of his nose. You and Price went way back, when you were an inexperienced rookie. He felt so proud watching you blossom into the cut throat special forces op you were today. ‘Ready?’ He asked releasing you from his grip guiding you to the door with his arm. ‘Absolutely’ you smirked.
‘Lads, this is Raven. She’s come over from Alpha team to help out on our next mission. She’s an expert in close combat, so, she’s come to join your sparring session.’ Gaz, Soap and Ghost all immediately stopped what they were doing and looked over towards you and Price. ‘Riley’ you nodded, offering him a warm smile, ‘you’ve not changed one bit.’
Soap whipped his head around so fast his neck could have snapped. ‘You know her?’ He asked quietly. Ghost met his gaze in the corner of his eye and let out a grunt. ‘Raven.’
‘Oh come on Riley! You can’t still be holding a grudge against me?’ You laughed hiding your smile with your hand. Soap furrowed his brows, so you two had history. Like a dog with a bone he piped up, ‘what? Lt? What’s she talking about?’
Ghost remained stoic and silent, regarding you from across the mats. Stifling a giggle you explained that you and Ghost had trained together, worked on a fair few missions together which went exceedingly well. But you were the only person currently recruited that was able to put Ghost on his ass, in front of everyone. ‘Get tae fuck?!’ Soap burst out, ‘Lt? She floored you?’
‘Yeah I did. He looked magnificent underneath me, didn’t you Riley?’ He rolled his eyes and visibly tensed up, feeling sorry for him you sauntered over and punched his bicep. ‘I’m joking Riley. But you need to let it go, I won fair and square.’
Huffing he shook his head ‘it’s good to see you too.’ His shoulders relaxed and he appeared to adjust to your presence once again. ‘Right, Gaz, Raven, you’re up first’ Price ordered. Stepping barefoot onto the mat you and Gaz circled each other like vultures circling prey. Eagerly waiting for someone to make the first move, Gaz lunged forward arm already extended which you grabbed pulled him off balance. Gaz fell to his knees and within seconds you had your knife against his throat. ‘Predictable’ you tutted.
With your knife against his throat you flashed you eyes up to Soaps. He was already staring completely infatuated with what he saw before him. Removing your knife you placed it back in its holster and helped Gaz up. ‘Again’ you commanded. Shaking himself off Gaz once again tried to lunge for you but lower this time, being wary of where his stance was. You dodged and jumped on his back about the pull the knife again, Gaz quickly pulled you over his shoulder before you were able grip his waist with your thighs. Landing with a full thump on the floor Gaz tried to get the upper hand, but being as quick as you were the knife was already back at his jaw. The tip of the knife pressed into the fleshy underside of his chin. ‘Fuck sake’ he sighed.
You patted his cheek grinning at him ‘better, but you need to be quicker.’ Gaz got up before holding out a hand for you which your graciously accepted. Price laughed in the corner knowing exactly what you were like. ‘Soap, next.’
Feeling like a child at Christmas he stepped onto the mat, and flicked a brief glance over at Ghost who rolled his eyes. ‘Ready?’ You asked, tightening your ponytail. He nodded. He flew at you ready to land a punch but you managed to block it and landed a kick into his ribs. He came at you again, calculated punches and impressive footwork. Still managing to block them you threw a foot out to kick him again, but this time he caught it. A huff of surprise left your lips at you twisted your body and threw your other foot into his stomach. This caught him off guard and winded him briefly. Taking this chance you got in close to avoid anymore punches and took out the backs of his knees.
He fell to the floor but managed to grip your waist and threw you under him. Seeing you go for your knife he grabbed your wrists and put them above your head. Nothing you couldn’t get out of, but seeing him squirm was too much fun. ‘Ooo down boy’ you smirked ‘isn’t this position reserved for the bedroom?’ He visibly stiffened, not quite sure how to take your comment. He slid his knee in between your thighs until it was resting just beneath your cunt. ‘Only if you want it hen’ he hissed back. Ever so subtly you let your hips move a fraction to grind on his thigh letting your eyes flutter shut.
He watched as your chest raised and lowered, lulling him into a trance. Your pulse on your neck clearly evident as it danced along your milky white skin. You bit your lip ‘don’t tempt me with a good time.’ Feeling his grip loosen slightly you pulled your wrists free as you arched your back, pushing your hips up throwing him off balance. As you did this you used your muscular thighs to push him sideways before you straddled his hips. Knife at the ready you pinned one of his muscular arms down over his head and traced your knife along his neck. You could feel how hard he was getting against you. Leaning into his ear you nipped at the lobe and whispered ‘you look so good underneath me Johnny.’
Sitting up you rolled off him completely brushing off what you’d just said him. ‘That was good Soap, again? Don’t lose focus.’ You barked. Soap got to his feet trying desperately to hide the semi now adorning his gym shorts. Luckily they were baggy enough to hide how much he wanted you. You began circling each other, a shit eating grin all over your face. Soap this time went for the element of surprise, he rugby tackled you to the floor. Causing you to drop the knife and land on your side. Before you could counter attack him he was on you, pushing you in the the floor in a prone position. He held your wrists behind your back and this time held your knife to your neck.
‘Fuckin’ naughty you are’ he muttered under his breath. Using your nails you pinched his skin causing him to flinch loosening his grip. With your arms now free you grabbed his Mohawk and pulled him closer to your face ‘yeah? What are you gonna do about it?’ He let out a whimper in your ear, you were teasing him. Your breathless question had him conjuring up imagines in his head of bending you over a desk and fucking you from behind. Winding his hand in your long black ponytail as he thrust deeply into your wet cunt. Feeling his erection growing further as he pressed against you, you moaned his name. It was barely above a whisper but it was enough for him to completely forget what he was doing.
Throwing an elbow into his ribs he fell to the side, once again you managed to get your knife and hold it to his throat. ‘Mmm good boy’ you drawled. He couldn’t take any more, he looked around questioning if anyone else was hearing this? Evidently they weren’t. Price was muttering to Ghost about the up coming mission while watching you both. Gaz was rubbing his chin where the knife tip had prodded him. You were in your own bubble on the mat.
Running your tongue along your teeth you smiled, a filthy, come fuck me smile. He stared up at your bluey green eyes, which contrasted perfectly against your porcelain complexion and black hair. His mouth fell open, laboured breaths escaped him as he tried to ground himself from what ever spell you’d cast on him. ‘Fuckin hell’ he muttered to himself as you climbed off and got to your feet. He propped himself up on his elbows and watched your hips swing as you walked over to Price.
‘This was fun. I’ll spare you the embarrassment Riley, same time tomorrow?’ you laughed.
#call of duty#cod mw22#fan fic smut#john soap mactavish#john mctavish#tension#soap x oc#McTavish x oc#Soap x female oc#johnny mctavish#soap smut#soap mctavish
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listen, I hear all of your “Argyle arrives in Hawkins stoked to see Max only to learn about Billy’s death” and all that jazz. it has caused me great anguish. but have you considered:
Argyle arrives in Hawkins all, “Hey, it’s Mad Max!” - which, yes, is a nickname he picked up from all the times Billy used it - and giving her the biggest bear hug, all excited because he hasn’t seen her in years and he’s always loved Billy’s spitfire little sister. He’s talking a mile a minute, telling her all about his adventures with the secret agent men and the crazy helicopters and religious super genius computer hacker and her kickass older sister. And Max is just! Delighted by it! She’s missed Argyle and all his quirks. She’s soaking up this little bit of home that the Byers brought back with them.
And then Argyle starts to settle down, and he lets Max and Jonathan introduce him to everyone, but you can tell that he’s expecting to see someone else. He keeps looking around as if counting heads, because surely someone is missing, and once he’s sure he’s shook every hand he’s like, “Max, amiga, where’s your brother at? Billy the Kid too cool for all of you, huh? I bet that’s it.”
Max’s face falls and she tells him, “Not exactly.” She looks at Steve, doesn’t have to say a word. Steve knows what she’s asking and he’s already starting up the car. Max tells Argyle, “We’ll explain on the way.”
Off they go to some super locked-down wing of the hospital, a makeshift mini-lab made up just for Billy after he’d been rescued from the Upside Down. Max tells Argyle everything: the Demogorgons, the Mind Flayer, Billy sacrificing himself. “Damn, manita, I always knew your bro was badass, but that’s some next-level shit right there.”
Steve covers the rest, tells Argyle about getting stuck in the Upside Down- “You mean the mind fight arena that freaky girl dipped into?” -and finding Billy there, how he’d been real fucked up, and how the secret agent people, in Argyle’s terms, swooped in and whisked him off to the hospital.
“Damn,” says Argyle, who just days ago thought the weirdest thing that had ever happened to him was a particularly funky ‘shrooms trip. “Is he okay, though? I mean, Billy, he’s one tough dude. He’s okay, right? All things considered?”
“He’ll be okay.” Max has to force the words out, because up until now her brother had been d-e-a-d dead as a doornail and she’s still pinching herself, still convincing herself that all of this is real.
They make up some excuse to get Argyle in to see Billy. “He’s a cousin,” Max explains, “from California. He flew in as soon as he heard.” The guards don’t quite buy it, but Max is there every damn day and a pleading phone call from Max to Doc Owens seals the deal. In they go.
Billy’s sedated, for his own sake. The Starcourt injuries healed, but without medical attention the scarring is nasty and everything’s a bit…well, fucked up. Not to mention the months he spent in an unfettered hell dimension with zero protection, no access to medicine, you get the picture. He’s thinner than Argyle remembers. His head’s been shaved, leads attached monitoring brain activity. He’s bruised up and scarred up more than Argyle thought a person could be. But he’s still Billy. Argyle goes right up to him, grabs his hand and starts to tell him how much he’s missed him, how much Billy’s missed back home, all the crazy stuff that’s gone down, because no matter what, freaky-deaky Upside Down shit and all, he’s still Billy.
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Dreaming of You - Chapter one
Chapter title: Downtown
summary: An otherwise depressing night takes a turn when a pair of warm brown eyes belonging to a charming stranger lock with yours.
Years later, at a different time of your life, a certain pair of eyes find their way back into your life.
word count: 1.5k
rating: E
pairing: Javier Peña x afab!reader
note: Drinking and smoking. No use of (y/n). The reader uses she/her pronouns and is shorter than Javier, but no other physical descriptions are used. Future chapters will include smut, extramarital affairs and references to depression, PTSD and identity crises. This has not been beta-read and English is not my native language.
Can also be read on ao3.
(18+ minors, please don't interact)
next￨series masterlist￨playlist
…When you're alone and life is making you lonely
You can always go downtown
When you've got worries, all the noise and the hurry
Seems to help, I know, downtown…
San Antonio, Texas. May 1992.
“For fuck’s sake, Darlene…” You murmur under your breath. You’re not sure what you had expected, tired and annoyed as you hang the receiver of the payphone back on the hook with a sigh. You are glad that Darlene is okay, you had been worried when she had not shown up after waiting outside the bar for a while. She was supposed to meet up with you, the two of you would have a couple of drinks, find a nightclub and go dancing. It had supposed to be to take her mind off her recent breakup, but Darlene’s deadbeat ex had, apparently, come around her apartment while she was getting ready and now they’re back together and are planning on having makeup sex the rest of the night, so she ain’t coming.
You consider just going back home, wiping your makeup off and getting out of these damn shoes. This is the only night this week you’re not working and you’re wearing fucking heels, not the usual 7-inch pleasers you wear to work, but still…
The prospect of the 30-minute journey back to your apartment is suddenly very exhausting. You feel chilly in your short dress, a breeze of night air sweeping over your bare arms and legs and you make a decision. A quick drink or two will probably help your mood and warm you up, you would still be able to get home and enjoy the rest of your night off with some tv and a bowl of ice cream.
The bar is dimly lit, but the little light that hits the exposed brick walls is a warm inviting orange and the place is not too crowded. It’s not the first time you’ve ever sat alone for a drink, but you can’t help but feel a little pathetic. You take a seat by the bar at the far end of the entry as you order yourself a paloma. You light a cigarette when your drink is placed before you, so absorbed in the words of Etta James that are coming from the speakers that you don’t notice that someone is approaching you.
“'Scuse me.” A smooth man’s voice is speaking to you. “Can I borrow a light?”
The voice comes from your left, it is a warm baritone. You turn towards the source. A dark-haired man, broad and tall with sharp, strong features is standing next to your stool. He is giving you a small charming smile, holding an unlit cigarette in his hand.
“Sure.” You answer.
You have to admit that he is quite handsome, if not downright sexy. He is wearing a pair of tight-fitting jeans that are hugging his figure nicely and a leather jacket in a warm burnt umber, that looks very good on him, over his button-down. You decide that you deserve a little flirt, and if he is as nice as he is attractive, maybe also a one-night stand.
Your lighter is back in your purse, but you don’t grab it. Instead, you lean forward, just a little, to get closer to him you bring your hand to the cigarette in your mouth, your elbow has not left the counter. Letting the smoke escape through your nose, you pluck it from your lips with your middle and index finger, holding it only a few centimetres from your mouth. He takes a look at the cigarette you’re holding before locking eyes with you. His eyes are a warm brown colour, you already love those eyes. He leans in and pulls life into his own cigarette, strings of smoke rising into the air.
“If I’m intruding, just send me on my way, but I couldn’t help but see you sitting alone and thought you might want some company.” He says, and damn, his voice really is nice.
You can’t help but smile at his advances, sure that he has a lighter of his own in the pocket of those nice jeans of his. But you don’t mind the company, he is very attractive and you could use a little pick-me-up, so you accept the invitation of his company and his offer of buying you another drink.
You introduce yourself and offer him your hand to shake, which he takes in his with a charming smile.
“I’m Javier.” He tells you, and you can’t help but notice how small your hand looks in his.
He is easy to talk to and you’re soon engaged in a nice conversation. You learn that he is working in South America, only back in The States for another week. When he asks you what you do for a living you tell him you’re a dancer, which technically isn’t a lie, but decide not to specify further. You are not ashamed of your profession, actually quite the opposite, but you have learned that some people can have very certain opinions about it. Javier has, however, not given you any indication of having any such opinions.
He asks you why you happen to be at a bar alone and you tell him how you were supposed to meet with your friend and had plans about going dancing, but had been stood up.
This makes him give you a mischievous, almost boyish, smile. His warm eyes lighting up.
“Do you still want to go?”
He asks with such charm that you can’t help but tell him that you do and the two of you are on your way out of the bar not long after.
You cross your arms over your torso when you step outside in the cool night air, feeling stupid for not having brought a jacket. You only get to resent your stupidity for a few seconds before Javier is draping his jacket over your shoulders, you look up at him and he is looking straight ahead. The gallant gesture from him seems to be something he didn’t even think twice about, but you can’t help but smile, as you pull the jacket tighter around yourself. The leather is well worn making it nice and soft and it smells nicely of his cologne under the characteristic smell of cigarette smoke.
You let Javier guide you to a club he informs you isn’t that far away and the route leads you down to the river walk, the lights from the windows and street lamps are reflecting on the water surface, making the river seem to sparkle. You can’t help but notice how the light also reflects in Javier's eyes, giving their brown colour a golden hue.
You continue the conversation from the bar as you walk and you arrive at your destination much quicker than you had expected. The club is dark, the bass from the music pounding through the speakers is vibrating through your body. Javier leads you, in a beeline to the bar, slipping through the crowd with his hand in yours. After some banter and some laughs, Javier has finished his whiskey and you have finished your daiquiri, he takes your hand back in his and leads you out on the floor.
You can’t help but appreciate the attentiveness he is showing you. You do not need to sway away any unwelcome suitors as if you had been here with Darlene, as it is certain to anyone that you are here with him.
You’re moving with the music, hips rolling and grinding, your body swaying to the beat. Javier’s broad hands are softly gripping your waist. He is a good dancer, his hips moving with a smoothness and ease, that only makes the fire of desire you’re feeling for him, burn even brighter. The blinking lights catch his handsome features in glimpses, the way his pelvis is moving against your ass sends a convulsion through your cunt. The bulge you can feel through his tight jeans as you dance against him and the way he circles his thumbs against your hips encourages your feelings even more.
His lips are finally on yours, he kisses with the same passion and smoothness that he dances with. The feeling is like a shot of adrenaline to your heart, your entire body aflame.
Suddenly the smell of sweat and spilt drinks and all the different colognes and perfumes mixing in the stale air is getting too much, the strobe lights too harsh for your eyes. It all feels too much like work.
“Let’s get out of here…” You whisper into his ear, your voice low and husky from the lust you’re feeling.
Javier grunts, his grip on your hips tightening. He is kissing your neck before whispering back to you.
“Lead the way, Hermosa.”
…Just listen to the rhythm of the music that they're playing
Making conversation while you're on the dance floor swaying
Happy again, the lights are much brighter there
You can forget all your troubles, forget all your cares…
Downtown, Petula Clarkly
#javier peña#javier peña x reader#javier peña x you#javier peña x y/n#javier pena#javier pena x reader#javier pena x y/n#pedro pascal characters#narcos fanfiction#javier peña narcos#javier peña fanfiction#javier peña angst#javier peña fluff#javier peña fic#narcos#javier pena smut#javier peña smut
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Playing Parts
Summary: Tobi/Obito finally tries therapy
Rating: Smut, 18+, noncon elements, stalking, psychological drama, implied mind control
Word count: 9236
A/N: I hope you all enjoy this. It was a long time coming really. I've been wrestling with this fic for a minute - I was joking with a friend and just realized why not ACTUALLY send obito to therapy and see what wackiness unfolds? And so this fic was born.
Disclaimer: I'm not a therapist nor do I have any authority on the matter! Please take everything in this fic with a grain of salt.
Wherever you were, he was also. He followed you, from one village to the next, after the dissolution of your family left you cast adrift, lost in the maddening fray of people in a world that couldn’t give less of a damn.
He understood the feeling.
He was entranced with you, the feelings you inspired, the impression you gave him ― all exotic, yet so endearingly familiar.
You had a dual shadow, yet you would never know.
You had a stalker, yet you would never know.
Because …
Because you looked just like her.
---------------------
“Another?”
You groaned, head in your palm. You peered down; your empty glass winked with the club’s flashing lights. You glanced at the bartender. He was being courteous, you acknowledged; he knew you were going nowhere. He was giving you that look; a strange marriage between pity and exasperation. You knew the look well; you often wore it as you studied your patients.
Oh, how the tables have turned.
“Ye … yeah,” You relented, crouching over the bar.
It was not as though you didn’t deserve such a look, either; once again, your love for bad boys and broken things had driven you to the comforts of the bar and its liquor stocked in its drawers. Another disastrous relationship gone up in flames, choking you with its fumes. And again, you chose to clear your throat by drowning in alcohol.
You tapped a heel against your suitcase, in which everything you owned was stored. Deja vu dizzied you, for years ago you were in this exact same position, with all your possessions hugged to your chest. Tears threatened the dryness of your eyes as memories of a murderous father and screaming mother incursed your mind, made you hunger for another drink.
And the suitcase’s meaning echoed the last: apartment searching.
Yay! Homelessness!
The bar’s raucous wasn’t enough to steal you away from self-pity. The bartender plopped your drink before you. You grazed the new glass of sake to your lips, licked the remnants from your lips.
Honestly, it was probably time you took your own turn on a therapist’s couch, but there were demons you were not quite ready to do battle with, and so, your therapy resided in supplying therapy for everyone else.
For now, you resigned to sharing a bar with a pack of other miserable drunken souls, all of them varying levels of drunk. In your sorrowful peripheral, someone took the empty chair beside you, but you could hardly chalk up the will to care as you downed the rest of your drink.
You steadied yourself on the bar as you reached for your wallet. You fiddled through it, only to find yourself petting a dust bunny.
Empty.
Your eyes popped.
Oh no.
The bartender eyed your wallet, your discrepancy.
He threw his towel on the counter. “Look, missy, this isn’t a fucking free for all! If you can’t pay, you can turn your pretty self around and leave.”
Some of your drunken peers snickered at you. You felt someone lean over you, a lecherous “I’ll help you pay, for a price …” made your skin crawl.
“I’ll pay for her!”
A hand slammed the table, moving away to reveal money.
The cheerful voice was so incongruous with the grimy club ― but it demanded your attention. You turned to your left, where you were met with an orange mask spiraling into itself.
The bartender’s eyes swung from the stranger to you, sighed. “Fine,” he grunted.
He swiped the money away. The other drunks, robbed of a show, began to disperse with disappointment, leaving you alone with your helper.
You blinked at your savior. “Uh ―” you searched for the correct word, “thanks …?”
It wasn’t meant to come out like so … unsure, but the mask was throwing you. The club lights caught onto it, giving you only a slight indication of an eye where the hole was situated.
Maybe it’s some sort of BDSM thing; I shouldn't judge.
You relaxed. “Thank you,” you said with more certainty.
“You’re welcome, miss,” said the character beside you.
A silence stretched. He ― he? ― abandoned his chair, exposing you to the breadth of his height.
Holy fuck, you swallowed.
His head lowered, and you felt his attention on you. A pause.
“You’re awfully sad, miss,” said the character, his cheerful voice weighed with a bit of emotion. “Tobi doesn’t think you should be so sad.”
He offered one more lingering pass at you, before striding into the thick of dancing, stumbling people and disappearing from your sight.
Your head swam with wonder. What the hell was that all about?
The wad of cash had been more than enough for a few more drinks after the one threatening to put you in the doghouse. After your fourth, you stumbled from the club and out the creaking door. Your vision blurred, steering with deer legs. The streetlights blared tangerine instead of white, spiraling in your imagination.
You don’t know how you made it home. Come morning, your eyes opened to the ceiling of your office, your body safe under the warmth of a blanket.
“So,” your patient took another drag from her cigarette, “that’s the story of how we got married for the third time.”
“Three times in one week,” You deadpanned. “That must be a record for you.”
----------------------------------
“Oh ―” something came to your patient’s mind, “Oh, and then his mother shows up, and she’s all like, ‘I thought I was wearing the wedding dress?’ I had to remind her it wasn’t her fucking wedding. She’s absolutely nuts! And he didn’t even stop her from starting a fight at the reception!”
Don’t laugh, You tell yourself. If you laugh, you’re not a good therapist.
“I should just let her go ahead and marry her own goddamned son,” Your patient continued. “That means I won’t have to; get the fucker off my hands.”
“Have you ever considered,” You began carefully, “that maybe your mother-in-law feels out of place in her son’s life and wants to contribute but doesn’t quite know how?”
She blinked at you, leaned back into your couch. “Go on.”
“And maybe if you gave her more responsibilities, ironically, she’d probably behave a lot better as she’ll feel like she’s needed?”
“Oh,” Your patient threw her cigarette-laden hand in the air. “You’re a genius. This is why I come to you.”
You couldn’t resist a smile; it was the only compliment you had received in a long time.
Well, except that night …
“Do you really think that’ll work?”
“It’s worth a shot,” You optimized.
You finished up with your patient and saw her out the door, breathing a huge sigh once the door was shut. You were exhausted ― and it was only 2pm.
It had been a week since the club and still you couldn’t stop thinking about the man in his orange mask who’d offered to pay for your drink. All else was a complete blur. The only thing that had come to occupy your mind ― along with your time ― was making your office your new apartment also; the living room was now reserved for sessions, while the closed doors down the hallway led to your bedroom, the kitchen hanging at the side of the living room.
It was the best you could do for now, since leaving your ex-boyfriend’s house. Your shoulders sank at the memory.
You’re awfully sad, miss. You shouldn’t be so sad.
It wasn’t a compliment exactly, but the closest you had gotten to one ― in a long time. The idea of someone thinking you were undeserving of the agony weighing down your life and wringing your heart was … nice. You had been touched.
And a little embarrassed. Was it that obvious?
A knock at the door and you startled, hand flying to your chest.
“I’m not taking any more clients today!” You shouted. “You’ll have to schedule another time!”
“Oh, sorry! But … but can Tobi come in anyway?”
Your heart sank. That voice …
Your hand flirted with the doorknob. You hesitated, unsure if you heard correctly. It can’t be … can it?
You retreated from the door. You hand twisted the knob and creaked the door open.
You raised your head. Your eyes caught orange spirals.
He saluted you. “Hello!”
It’s him …!
“Yo ― you …”
Without thinking, you backed away, widening the door for him.
“Tobi is sorry it is so late,” he said, towering over you as he entered. “Tobi wants to be a good boy! But … it doesn’t always work out that way.”
“From the bar …” You said, still gripping with his arrival. “How did you find me?”
He ― Tobi ― perked. “Tobi saw your ad!”
“My …” you blinked. “Ad …”
Oh yeah, I forgot about those.
Where was your head? It had been long since you plastered your posters all over the village, advertising your services. Anxiety waned off your chest; and for a second you had truly thought he had followed you … How ridiculous.
“After Tobi and Miss met, Tobi wanted to see if you were okay,” Tobi said, then flailed his arms, “Tobi also wanted lessons!”
“I’m sorry,” You said, beginning to recover from it all. “I don’t do walk-ins. You’ll have to schedule.”
“Oh,” Tobi’s voice was pleading, coupling his hands. “But can Tobi just have a few minutes? Tobi promises to be a good boy next time!”
What’s with the third person?
You were confused ― just as much as you were intrigued. You could not pretend as though you were not interested.
You crossed your arms, considering as stars twinkled around Tobi’s kneeling form.
“All right,” You said. “10 minutes.”
“Yay!”
Tobi twirled, and while he made a show of himself, you examined him. Donned in a mask ― No animal or distinctive features. He doesn’t associate himself with anything one would recognize; he must want true anonymity ― and bound in fabric of black from head to toe. Said fabric strapped him in perfectly, emphasizing strong pectorals, hint of abs …
You shook your head. Stop ogling him!
While Tobi’s happy dance commenced, you decided to ask:
“You’re a ninja, aren’t you?”
He stopped mid-twirl, turning back to you. A beat passed.
“Aww,” Tobi scratched the back of his head, where his mask ended and indicated spiked black hair, “what gave me away?”
“Well,” You shrugged, a hint of a smile tickling your lips, “the, uh, mask is peculiar. And you have … quite an impressive build.”
You didn’t want it to come off like you were flirting, but it sounded flirty. Shit. At least pretend like you’re a professional.
“It wasn’t hard to put two and two together,” You added to soften the suggestivity of your comment.
“Tobi is a ninja!” Tobi affirmed. “Tobi goes on scary missions all the time ― it’s fun!”
“Fascinating …” You cupped your chin, observing him.
Something caught Tobi’s eye; your bookshelves. He traipsed, arms flailing, toward the books. You followed him with wonder.
“So many books,” he said. He was nearly as tall as the shelves themselves, tipping his head up a tad to admire them all. “You must be really smart!”
“You …” You stood beside him. “Now you flatter me. It’s nothing really.”
But your humility didn’t stop Tobi from gobsmacking at the enormity of your collection, the density of the tombs.
“You have to read a lot to become a therapist,” You said. Seeing an opening, you added, “Do you read, Tobi?”
“No,” Tobi lowered his head. “Tobi was never the sharpest tool in the shed.”
“Don’t say that,” You said. “Neither was I, at first. It took me years to like reading.”
“Really?”
“Yep,” You piped up. “The trick is,” you raised a finger, “is to find a topic you’re interested in and read about that!”
You approached your dual couches, patting one. “Come sit, Tobi.”
Tobi obeyed, sitting on the couch opposite you. He shifted his head as he took his seat, exposing a bit of his neck to you; he truly was covered from head to toe, as you couldn’t detect a single speck of skin anywhere.
Tobi spotted you looking, and somehow managed to blush on top of his mask. He put a hand to his mask.
“Miss is staring …”
Your eyes widened before you averted them.
“You flatter Tobi!”
You fidgeted, desperate for a way out of this subject. “You,” you cleared your throat, “... seem a lot happier than the shinobi who come to see me.”
Tobi’s interest piqued. “Whaa? Tobi is not the only ninja you see?”
“Oh, heavens, no!” You waved him off. “They come to see me all the time in secret. It’s a rough job, and it gets to them all eventually. I don’t blame them, really. Even my old boyfriend was …”
You paused. You covered your mouth. Too personal! What had gotten into you?
Tobi was quiet for a moment.
“Miss’s boyfriend … was a ninja?”
“Yes, mm …” You cleared your throat again. “Let’s change the subject. This is your session after all. We have five minutes left. What do you want to talk about, Tobi?”
Tobi watched you maneuver a glass of water toward him on the table separating the two of you.
“Tobi was …” he began, voice cracking, “betrayed.”
Sympathy grazed you. “Oh, I see. Was it a girlfriend?”
Silence. Tobi shook his head.
“No.”
You studied Tobi; his shoulders fell, head hanging. It was startling to see such a chipper soul become so depressed, so demure.
He’s really quite depressed. His almost cartoony demeanor is a mask to conceal deep inner pain, further emphasized by the actual mask he wears.
You treaded carefully.
“Was it … a friend then?”
Tobi’s attention snapped to you and you resisted a startle. You had hit a nerve. Your eyebrows raised, expectant.
“... Yeah,” he answered. “A friend.”
You wanted to reach for him, but your training told you physical touch might be overstimulating if he was in the middle of recalling a traumatic memory. You reached, instead, with your voice. “Tell me about this friend, Tobi. This is a safe place.”
Nonetheless, Tobi was the one to fidget now.
“Tobi is not … used to talking about his feelings,” Tobi brightened when an idea seemed to strike him. “I know! Maybe Miss could share a little to help Tobi open up!”
You blushed. “Oh, well, I don’t …” It’s a good idea, but it might throw me off my game. “You know what? Let’s do it! If it’ll help you!”
“Yay!”
“Hmm … Let’s see,” You pondered, finger to your lip. At times like this, you would simply fabricate your background in order to help clients open up. It was dishonest, but it served the same purpose as the truth and kept things professional.
But this was different; Tobi was a shinobi, and everything in your bones told you he could detect any lie you told. You would surely expose yourself under such conditions, under such pressure.
You sighed, covered it up with a weak smile. “I’ve recently gone through a pretty bad breakup, Tobi. I know what it feels like to be betrayed.”
“Really …?” everything you said seemed so amazing to Tobi.
Your blush deepened. He’s surprised I’ve gotten my heart broken? “Yes. A boyfriend, he … Well, he cheated.”
Tobi emitted a soft “aww.”
“Miss is sad again …” he said. “Tobi doesn’t like her sad.”
“Thank you,” You said. You lowered your gaze, unable to deny the sting of legitimate pain the memory caused. “Fact is, he said that he would … he would always take care of me.”
You couldn’t name it, but the mood changed. You felt Tobi’s presence in the room totally. He regarded you … lovingly? Your brows furrowed, desperate to understand the shift in him.
Silence.
“... Tobi understands,” the cheer in his voice was all but gone. “He made a promise to a friend, a long time ago … Tobi’s friend broke his promise … He betrayed Tobi …”
Your eyes glued to Tobi, intrigued. “How does that make you feel, Tobi?”
“... Confused.”
This is brilliant; usually men won’t admit to feeling out of control.
“You’re doing so well,” You encouraged. “Keep going …!”
You saw movement in your peripheral, and your eyes trailed to see Tobi’s fists clenching at his sides, knuckles whitening.
Your gaze flickered back to Tobi ― but he was already looking at you. You peered closer until you could see a hint of his eye. Your eyes met his one, and there was ―
“It makes Tobi feel … rage.”
Red.
His lone eye flashed scarlet ―
You gasped, reeling back into the couch. Fear gripped your heart.
And as it had come so had it gone; his eye was normal, his demeanor lightened.
“Tobi is sorry!”
“It’s okay,” You caught yourself. Perhaps strong emotions bring on shinobi abilities I don’t understand. And what emotion it was. To see someone so happy go from sorrow to anger so quickly. Who was this guy? “Sometimes, when we bury our feelings, they can come out stronger than we can handle.”
Tobi sighed. “That makes sense. Still, Tobi didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I was only startled,” You leaned forward. “You could never scare me, Tobi.”
You believed him; looking at Tobi, how flustered he’d become at his feelings … You understood he was a ninja, but you couldn’t picture him actually hurting anyone.
Tobi was silent. “Thank you.”
Your eyes trailed to your watch. 10 minutes.
“And that’s all the time we have today, Tobi,” You said, standing. “Make sure to come see me again next week. And make sure you schedule this time.”
“That’s it?” Tobi said, rising as well. “That felt like no time at all to Tobi! Miss is so much fun to talk to!”
You ducked your face to conceal another blush and opened the door for Tobi.
“Right back atcha.”
Tobi chuckled and nodded to you one more time before leaving. You shut the door, pressed your forehead to its wood.
Was it just you, or had his voice … changed along with his eye?
You were exhausted, and it didn’t take long for you to lull into a nap, where Tobi’s eye and his deep voice chased you into dreams.
----------------------------------------------
Shower water rained on his back, disguising hushed pants inside white noise.
He hadn’t meant for the mask to slip.
So to speak.
You spoke of your boyfriend, and in his mind all he had morphed into Kakashi, until it was all he could think of, the rage suffocating him.
Jealousy compounded jealousy. Anger surged through him, was softened by the stroke Obito gave to his cock. Your face bloomed, the memory of your blush twitched his cock. And your smile. You had such a nice smile.
Obito closed his eyes, hung his head against the shower wall. While he stroked himself, he imagined it being your hands on his manhood. Tobi, fuck, you’re huge … He grasped, quickened his pace. Scenes in his mind hazed into one another; your boyfriend’s blood decorating the walls as he pinned you to your couch, crashing his lips to yours, fucking himself into your small, frail frame.
Don’t worry, (Y/n), I’ll save you …
The hot water sensitized Obito’s skin; he leaned a hand up against the wall opposite him, jerking harder now. Imaginary you begged in his ear. He buried inside of you, filling your sinfully tight walls with his cum.
“Tobi …!”
He stained the shower wall with his seed, a low grunt emitting from his mouth as he came. He released his cock, turned his hand so his palm revealed the evidence of his climax.
If there was any guilt to be had, it was dull, nominal. He could think only of your flushed, fucked out. You, panting underneath him. He thumbed the head of his sensitizing cock, watched it bounce back in place at his abdomen. A perverse thought crossed him, streaking you in his mind.
I really am a freak, aren’t I …?
“Tobi!” came Deidara’s voice, clipped and upset. “What’s the hold up?”
Obito laughed at himself. Oh, if only you knew, Deidara. He dressed, donned the mask and the character of Tobi once again, both fitting like an arm in a sleeve. He didn’t want to keep Deidara waiting.
He had to see you again.
“And he has the nerve,” Your patient said, another temperamental woman you dared not cross in your futile attempts to help her, “the absolute nerve to insinuate the baby’s not his. Can you believe that?”
You nodded, following. “So you know the baby’s his?”
“How’re you gonna ask me a question like that?”
You sighed, knowing your place. You remained silent as your patient rambled on about her multiple boyfriends, surely one of them being the father of her unborn child.
Admittedly, your head was elsewhere.
You were compelled to tell yourself for the umpteenth time: You were not falling for Tobi.
You told yourself in the mirror, in your diary, before bed. You were not. Your interest was completely professional ― the only reason you thought about him, day and night, was because he fascinated you. That fascination, of course, had nothing to do with your love for broken things, for bad boys, for mystery. But it was also something that could not be assuaged by a quick visit with one of your old boyfriends ― even your most recent ex who had, coincidentally, had stopped calling you.
You wanted only to know what was under that mask for Tobi’s own sake.
Not because you wondered what he looked like, or what his lips looked like, or what it would be like to lean into them and …
“Hello?” Your patient snapped her fingers. “Am I talking to myself here?”
You jumped. “Uh, no, of course not.”
“Then, great super mega therapist,” Your patient crossed her arms, eager for you to disappoint her, “what do you suggest?”
You resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of your eyebrows in frustration. You’ve got to be kidding me. No, no. patience … sometimes people just can’t see what’s right in front of them.
“This is a trust issue,” You replied. “Not a control issue.”
“Care to elaborate?”
“Your boyfriend doesn’t know if you’ve fully chosen him, so he doesn’t want to fully choose you, either,” You clarified. “There’s no point in being with you from his perspective if the moment you get upset you run and go out with another guy.”
Your patient lowered her gaze, uncomfortable. “You think he loves me?”
“Yes, honey, I think he does.”
Three hard knocks at the door stirred you both ―
It flew open.
A man came to the couch, calling out your patient’s name.
“I’m sorry!” he said.
He approached the couch, kneeling as if to propose.
“Oh my god,” Your patient raised from the couch, stars in her eyes. “You came for me!”
“I want this baby, love,” he said, intertwining his knuckles with hers. “I don’t care who’s baby it is. I want us to start a family.”
“Oh …” Your patient cooed. “I love you so much …”
“I love you.”
They proceeded to make out … Right in front of you.
You cleared your throat for their attention. “Hey, uh, this isn’t couple’s therapy.”
Your patient broke their kiss to stare at you. “Oh. You don’t do that?”
“No, sorry.”
You ushered them out seconds later with a “Happy babymaking, you two!” before shutting the door and locking it.
Methinks we need stronger locks around here. A few padlocks. Maybe a cross bar.
You composed yourself ― as best you could. You glanced at the clock. 10 minutes to 2pm. Tobi was next.
You adjusted yourself, swiped your lips with some makeup ― not too look good for him, but to be professional. You compiled your notes, of which you had many; deductions, theories, possible inquiries, anything that had come to your mind about Tobi since his last session.
I have to get him to speak more about this friend. He brought it up first, so it must be what’s truly bothering him. Perhaps, this friend is the reason why he hides behind this character he’s created.
You sat down, a bundle of notes in your lap, and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
You went from your first page of notes to the 100th before smacking it with your face, admitting defeat.
Tobi was late.
Maybe he’s canceled. Panic struck you. He can’t cancel! Not before I ― I mean, he gets to know himself better!
You looked at the clock again. 2:35.
You were ready to cry when there was a knock at the door. You skedaddled, unlocked the door and threw it open.
“Tobi is here!” he cheered, hands up.
“Tobi …” You breathed out, sliding out of the way for him to enter.
“Tobi is sorry for the tardiness,” he said. “There were some nasty chores that came up that needed doing!”
You only grinned at him before realizing how close the two of you were at the door’s threshold. He dwarfed you in height. It sent butterflies dancing around your heart. Oh, gods ... How much lighter you would be in his arms, if he were to ever pick you up and …
He stared. “Hm? Is Miss all right?”
You snapped out of it. “Yes, I’m sorry, Tobi, come sit.”
“That’s good,” Tobi said, “because Tobi has done lots of thinking since his last session with you.”
“Mhm?” You sat on your side while Tobi occupied the couch across from you.
“Tobi wants to ask something …” he began. “It’s been on his mind. When someone hurts your feelings ― really bad ― what are you meant to do?”
You considered him. This is about his old friend, no doubt about it.
“It never really leaves Tobi’s mind,” he went on. “Being hurt. What should Tobi do?”
You shifted the notes away from you, self conscious of them. “Well, Tobi,” you began. “It depends on the level of hurt.”
“Miss means how bad Tobi feels?”
“Exactly,” You answered. “No one gets to tell you how painful something is; if it hurts, it hurts. That’s all there is to it. But the trick is, no matter how painful the situation, we should always head toward forgiveness, toward moving on.”
“Forgiveness,” there was a slight edge to Tobi’s voice now. “Miss means … to forget?”
“I mean to move on,” You said softly. “Totally different things, though people think they’re the same.”
“Tobi … thinks he understands,” Tobi said. “Could Miss … explain more?”
Your therapist’s intuition told you this was a trick; you were being tested. Tobi was gauging you, despite his feigned innocence. Thankfully, he was not the first one to do so, nor would he be the last.
“Sure,” You said. “Nobody intends to forget anything really; it’s not conscious. But forgiveness is always conscious. We can always try to forgive. It doesn’t mean what the other person did to you was okay, it means you refuse to be defined by their actions, only your own!”
“Oh,” Tobi’s voice shuttered.
There were a few beats where no one spoke. You didn’t question it; sometimes, silence was the best thing for a patient, to allow them time for things to settle.
“... Tobi doesn’t think he can do that.”
“Everyone can,” You assured. “But it takes time.”
You could detect Tobi’s discomfort by his movements alone. Silences, coupled with more fidgeting. A head turn here, a head turn there.
“Tobi has something else to say.”
“Go on.”
“Tobi … Tobi did have a girlfriend once!”
You denied the jealousy stinging you with every inch of your being. “Oh?”
“Yes, and Tobi was thinking about …”
“Hm?” You concealed your curiosity, though you felt your body leaning to Tobi. “thinking about what?”
“About … how much you look like her, Miss.”
Your heart skipped. Me? Look like her? You felt it again, something of which you couldn’t be sure because you couldn’t see any of Tobi’s face, but the strange sense that his attention on you was rapt. You were naked in his presence; he could see right through you, not the other way around, despite your efforts.
“I would ―” Your mouth was unusually dry. “I would thank you, but I’m not sure if you and this girlfriend are on good terms, so …”
“We were,” Tobi’s voice was unusually quiet.
“Oh,” You blushed. “Then ― then thank you …!”
Tobi didn’t answer. More silence, but this bout of it felt more intimate for reasons beyond you.
You smiled, hung your head.
“Miss …”
“Hm?”
“Can … Can you do Tobi a favor?”
Anything.
His voice was even quieter now. The heat accumulating in your body startled you. “Y― yes?”
“Could Miss take her glasses off for Tobi?”
What? You had never had a patient ask something of you ― not like this. However, you did so, crossing the frames and putting them in your lap.
Tobi “wowed,” his head cocking. “You’re awfully pretty, Miss …”
You fiddled with the legs of your glasses. His compliment was so sincere ― he was so sincere ― and you felt so seen.
“... Could I see more?”
You didn’t catch the “I” instead of “Tobi,” only the insinuation of his requests. Tobi was engrossed by you, and you felt as though you could not speak. You felt drugged, almost, under his focus.
“More?” You repeated. “What ― what do you mean?”
“I mean,” Tobi’s voice was hardly above a whisper. “Could you … spread your legs for me?”
Under any other circumstances, under any other patient, you would end things immediately, banish him from the room or flee from it yourself. Call the authorities, even. But this was Tobi, and something in his voice ― his smooth, deep voice ― you found it impossible to object.
You fevered as you bent your fingers underneath the hem of your skirt and peeled it upwards, spreading your legs as you had been asked.
By now, your pink panties must have been in view, cupping your throbbing cunt.
“Such a pretty pair of panties …”
This, you thought, somewhere, in the part of your brain still sane and functional, was not professional.
But you couldn’t bring yourself to care as Tobi held you under his heated gaze. You could’ve sworn you saw his eye flash red once more, but …
“Touch yourself, Miss,” he ordered softly.
“What?”
His red eye met you through the mask.
“You know you want to.”
That’s … that’s not the point.
Your hand seemed to move on its own as it grazed past your thigh, teasing the sensitive inner skin, until the pad of your finger pressed into your clothed pussy.
Tobi breathed sharply. It spurred you on. You rubbed fingers against the cloth, you clit hidden from view. You parted your legs wider, gaze heavily lidded as you became entranced by your ministrations.
Your eyes fluttered as you snuck a hand into your panties. You teased yourself with ghostly touches.
“Yes,” Tobi breathed. “Show me, show me …”
You circled your clit, a new thrum of pleasure sweeping through you. Your other hand came to tug at your breast, the strip of your shirt falling past your shoulder. Your eyes closed at last, your ears treated to the concentrated sounds of Tobi’s clipped breath.
“(Y/n).”
A moan, from him. Your head fell into the cushions of the couch, spreading your legs farther apart.
“Oh, Tobi, fuck …”
“(Y/n) …”
You opened your eyes, half-expecting to see Tobi’s cock cradled in his hands.
“Show me more.”
You knew what he wanted. You needed to show him everything. You shoved the band of your panties to the side, revealing your wet lips to him.
“No,” he murmured, holding out a hand. “Give them to me.”
You retrieved your wet fingers, lifted your lower half to remove your panties. What am I doing?
He took them from you.
“Good girl,” he said. “Keep going.”
You spread your legs for him again, reclaiming your hungry clit and rolled it between wet fingers. “A ― ahh …” You played with yourself as Tobi held your underwear hostage. You found your erect nipple beneath the fabric of your shirt and teased it, hardening the nub. Tobi leaned in, elbows on his knees, cheering you on with a silence “yes” here and there. Your vision blurred, but surely the bulge between his legs hadn’t always been there?
A dark chuckle, followed by a falsetto of what should’ve been his true voice. “So very pretty, miss …”
You felt your stomach tightening. You dipped a finger into your entrance, bucked up so Tobi’s view was clear. Another strangled grunt from him and your head hit the couch, his name on your lips as you clenched around your finger and abused your throbbing clit with your thumb.
The thrums of pleasure were forever. You couldn’t hear Tobi anymore. You slit your eyes open after a moment, the reality of what you had done still far from dawning. A weight came across your body, compelling you to open your eyes further.
You looked up, and Tobi was on top of you.
Nestled between the gap in your thighs. One hand was at the hem of your skirt, while the other cradled your head.
“Amazing show, Miss (L/n),” he said. “I look forward to our next meeting. I think I just may make a breakthrough.”
Your blurred vision was not cured until several blinks later. Your eyes cleared, and he was gone. When you recovered, the sun was departing, bathing you in the orange light of its departure.
You couldn’t even convince yourself it had been a dream; your panties were still gone.
---------------------------------------
You hadn’t seen Tobi in weeks.
Patients came and went, but they bored you. You diagnosed both them and their problems with ease. The only one who stuck ― who haunted your every movement, your every conscious and unconscious hour ― was Tobi.
You were good at what you did, but still, you felt a fraud; the guilt of your … performance ― your amazing show, as Tobi had put it ― had weighed on you. How had he convinced you to do something so … raunchy? Why didn’t you stop him?
And what was worse: you had no distractions. Work was more of a reminder than anything else. Your ex-boyfriend had completely ceased any and all contact with you, and while under normal circumstances you would have been relieved to not be pulled into such toxicity again, his utter silence had come to worry you.
No peace for the wicked. Three attacks had come to the village in a little over two weeks. Chaos inside you and out.
You … you were beginning to think it was all Tobi’s doing.
But you could prove nothing. If you had any sense at all you would march to the village’s police force and report everything you knew, not what you could prove.
But … You didn’t want to. You only wanted him to return to you.
You were just a little obsessed.
By “obsessed” you meant: surely, Tobi had done something to your brain. You looked in the mirror and saw your face concealed by an orange, spiraling mask. You could hear his laugh before being dragged into sleep. Sometimes, shadows hugged you from behind, and you would turn to see nothing there. Nothing at all.
Day and night, Tobi ran through your mind. The idea of him scaring your ex away thrilled you, flattered you, more than it could ever frighten you.
You tapped the couch cushion with an agitated finger. The entire day had been a blur, four or five patients, the last having left only 10 minutes ago. Something about … wanting to insure a circus, or being run over by a clown or … something. To be totally honest, you couldn’t bring yourself to remember.
Your world began and ended with the possibility of a knock at your door. You stared at it, the chocolate color imprinted in your mind. Static formed around your vision.
There was no knock.
The knob ― twisted.
You jerked. The hair on your arm stood at attention as the knob jerked. You swallowed dryness as the dark shape of Tobi emerged, tangerine mask the only splash of color in a world of black.
Despite your eagerness, it was a while before you acknowledged his presence
“Long time no see.”
Tobi creaked the door closed.
“How did you know it was open?”
Your curiosity filled the pause; which voice would Tobi meet you with?
“Something … just told me it would be.”
Ah, deep voice it is then.
Tobi faced you. “I wasn’t intending to be gone so long.”
“Hm,” was your reply. You looked away, arms crossed. You knew you had no right to be so … wifey. Like he was your long suffering husband who’d missed one dinner too many. But Tobi’s sudden drop from earth had affected you with an almost feverish longing, and the hold he had on you, suddenly, drove you angry. “It’s your money you’re wasting.”
“Does that mean you miss me when I’m gone?”
You didn’t give into his teasing.
“I have lots of other clients, Tobi,” Your truth cocktailed with lies. “Lots to keep me occupied.”
“Mhm,” Tobi said, his voice dipped mockingly “Occupied …”
You rolled your eyes as Tobi amused himself across from you. An answer to your hypothesis; you couldn’t lie to him.
“Oh, come on, Miss (L/n),” Tobi said. “What happened to your sense of humor?”
You looked to him. “These … attacks.”
He cocked his head. “Hm?”
“Do they have anything to do with you?”
Tobi was quiet.
“My ex,” You continued. “He used to hound me to come back to him ― and usually I would ― right up until you started seeing me. What about that?”
The pause was longer than the last. Anxiety pumped your heart.
“... No.”
You didn’t know if you believed that ― could he lie to you?
“No to what?” You pressed. “The attacks or my ex?”
A giggle.
“Yes.”
This cheeky motherfucker ―
You fled from the couch, anger along with curiosity and a kaleidoscope of feelings Tobi aroused in you propelling each step away.
“(Y/n).”
You faced him.
“... I’m sorry.”
You were quiet.
“Let me make it up to you.”
“Oh really?” You said. “How?”
He faced you now, tapping the blazed wood of his mask. “I’ll show you.”
Your eyes flashed.
“You’ve wanted to know what I look like since the beginning, right?” he said. “Come.”
And there it was again; the same voice, compelling you to anything ― anything. You came around, hands trembling, to sit beside him.
He took your hands, guiding them to either side of his mask.
You breath knifed. Your fingers cradled the spiraling lines of the mask’s edge. Slowly, you began to lift, the mystery of Tobi unwinding with each inch.
Chin … lips … nose … eyes.
Eyes.
One eye flared scarlet, specks of blackness swimming in the optic. The other eye was purple and forever ringed, bedecked with perennial loops spinning into eternity. A part of his face was as spiraled as his mask, the result of some injury you could not place nor name.
A mystery within a mystery.
The mask plopped to the floor.
Tobi’s lips curled into a smirk. “I haven’t shown anyone my face sin ―”
Whatever Tobi was going to say died away as you flung yourself onto him, your lips locking with his.
He pulled away for only a split second, surprised by your moxy, before pulling you into a second, deeper kiss.
You crawled atop him. Tobi’s hands feasted on you, satiating themselves on your breasts to your hips, coming to squeeze at your thighs, scooting you up farther onto him. Your surprised whimper broke the kiss for only a second before Tobi retrieved you again with his mouth.
You startled at cold fingers on your skin, before realizing Tobi's hands had gone beyond to fiddle with your bra. His lips peppered your chin. A thought came to you as you fluttered your eyes closed.
“Do you still have them?”
Tobi raised to look up at you, cocked his head.
“My …” You blushed red. “Underwear.”
“ … Yes.”
You glared but there was no bite to it. “Give them back.”
A dark chuckle.
“Come and get them.”
You crashed lips to his for the third time, flicking his lips to let you in. You pushed him into the couch as his hands toyed with the clasp of your bra. In agony, you broke the kiss just to fling your shirt away and dispose of your bra, revealing your tits to him.
Tobi’s gaze was predatory as he raised to follow you but you pressed him down again, breasts crushing to his chest. You leaned into him, nether regions against his, feeling the hardness evident there. You grinded into him, earning a soft grunt in return.
“Nevermind,” Your breath warmed his earlobe. “I don’t think I’ll need them.”
You peppered Tobi’s chin until you nibbled his lips, tongue coming to play with his. He hugged you to him as he flipped you. You let out a girlish squeal ― so strong ― before Tobi released the kiss, trailing down your neck, nibbling at the jut of your collarbone, his hands traveling south.
“All I could think about,” Tobi’s words kissed your nipple, flicking it with his tongue, “since you put on that little show for me …”
You mewled as his hand slithered into your panties, fingers introduced to your wet folds.
You let your head swing back to avoid Tobi’s taunting glare, his smirk too evil to bear.
“So very wet, Miss …”
Two different voices mingled in Tobi’s laugh as he stroked your clit, his teeth grazing over your abused nipple.
“Have you touched yourself since, Miss?”
He bit you.
“Aa ―ahh!”
“Have you made yourself come since …?”
A long, tortured stroke at your clit.
“Ahh!” You arched into him. “Yes!”
Tobi grunted, shifting downward on you. He tugged your skirt down your thighs, pulling your panties along. He kneeled at the couch, robbing you of your clothes, and for a second you think he will knick another pair of panties from you when he flings your skirt and underwear away, widening your legs so he might be accepted between them.
Fingers trailed up your one inner thigh as Tobi kissed up the other. He kissed his smirk into your mons pubis, dancing around your clit, always so close ―
Before widening your lips and licking at your clit.
“Tobi …!”
Tobi’s thumb came to play with your clit as he licked, a soft hum as he savored the taste of you. Your clit became the victim of both his thumb and his tongue as he played with you. Your legs squeezed his head, mewling as his tongue lapped up what threatened to leak from your folds.
“T ― Tobi …!” You barely managed to speak at all. “I want …”
Tobi stopped, looked up to you as you propped on an elbow.
“I want …” You were too flustered to move much; you angled your foot past Tobi’s thigh, to his crotch.
The side of Tobi’s lips quirked. He seemed to catch onto your meaning as he raised from the floor and gestured for you to stand. You did so.
“No,” he said, laying down again. “Use my mouth.”
Your eyes flashed wide. You walked toward him, his hands coming to guide you as you straddled him. Your eyes rolled back as you rested against Tobi’s face, his lips coming to kiss and suck at your labia.
You moaned out as Tobi ate you, the rest of his body clear as day to you, still clothed but muscles pronounced against the black wrappings of his outfit. He sucked hard at your clit and you fell forward, steadying yourself against the hardness of his chest. Your eyes wandered to his bulge, his erection tempting your fingers.
You reached forward, brain hazed by Tobi’s sucking and licking, lapping up all of your juices. You threatened to lose your balance again as he hummed against your labia, his hands coming to your waist to steady you on his own. You reached, grasped his cock through his trousers ―
Tobi pulled you forward and you gasped at the sudden jerk.
“No.”
He went back to work on you, squeezing your thighs into his hands. You licked your lips, tempted even more by the imprint of his cock.
You reached again, handled his erection ―
Smack!
Your ass stung from the force. You squealed as in a blink, Tobi had turned you around so your back was facing his body. You looked down, his mismatched eyes narrowing at you.
You opened your mouth to fight ― before Tobi flicked his tongue against your clit, his nose pressing into you. You straddled the couch’s arm, leaning over him. You licked your lips, the sting against your skin still mingling deliciously with Tobi’s adventurous tongue.
He missed nothing, his tongue expertly catching up any juices that flowed from you. You grasped the couch, hard. Oh, you’d be bone dry by the time he was done with you.
Your stomach tightened. You leaned harder into Tobi’s mouth, surely suffocating him now, but it did nothing but spur him on as he forced you to him, focusing all of his attention on your abused clit.
“Ah ―Aaaah!” You rocked into him. Your orgasm fell over you and into Tobi’s mouth, your juices watering his tongue as you convulsed above him. You lost yourself entirely in the throes of climax, yet it didn’t matter; Tobi’s grip held you in place as he drank from you, still wagging his tongue against your clit.
You clenched again and again, burying a hand in the black of Tobi’s hair as your climax rode itself out. You relaxed against him, felt him emerge from underneath you.
“Delicious, Miss …”
Your back fell against the couch as Tobi came to tower you. He kissed your forehead. He reached downward, zipping down his fly. His cock sprang free and a new thrum of pleasure sang through you, but not before Tobi grabbed you, switching places with you and placing you above him once more. Your pussy moistened his cock.
“Now,” he said. “Where were we?”
Your movements were sloppy, disoriented as you lifted your hips, maneuvered Tobi’s cock at your entrance ― and shuddered a breath as you fell forward, feeling his cock disappear between your thighs. You pressed hands against the hardness of Tobi’s chest for purchase. Your eyes widened as the full extent of Tobi’s length sheathed into you. The position made your heart flutter. You were riding him.
Tobi’s hands found your waist again as you moved ― a light gasp escaped your lips as you bounced, miniscule movements not nearly enough to unsteady Tobi.
“Ooh ~” Tobi sang. “Oh, miss~”
His high voice followed by a deep laugh. Your hands traveled from his pectorals to his throat, squeezing hard as you rode him. You felt him intake a sharp breath, as though caught unawares. He gripped you harder, slammed you down on his cock, earning another gasp from you.
Skin slapped as you met Tobi while he met you. You were sure you would have Tobi’s hands imprinted on your waist forevermore as you bounced, circled your hips on him. You pressed thumbs into the dip of his throat, curled your lips at the strangled moan he gave seconds after.
Tobi’s hands traveled from your waist to the stinging skin of your ass, kneading hard at the flesh. His mismatched eyes flickered to your wild breasts, bouncing and swinging with your harsh pace.
“So rough~”
You bucked down onto him, the squeal he gave in return bordering on girlish ―
“Oh, miss, you’re so good ~”
A blink and you were underneath him, his weight forced on you.
“If I had known you were like this the whole time, miss,” Tobi said, pausing to lick the plump of your lips, “I wouldn’t have waited so long.”
And he thrust, hard, into you. Your lips parted to gasp, only to be filled with Tobi’s two fingers. You sucked on his dual digits as he pounded you, throwing a leg over his shoulder to open you wider to him.
Your skin stung as he hit against you, slapped endlessly with each hard thrust. Your eyes roll as Tobi’s hand returned the favor, clasp over your throat.
“No,” his deep voice commanded. “Look at me.”
Mouth agape, you obeyed. Tobi’s hand rolled over your helpless clit. You arched into his hold, eyes fluttering on his wicked smile from above. You gasped as he tightened his hold on your throat ―so strong. He swiped your clit, swiping as his hips crash into yours ― again, again, again ―
“To ―Tobi …!”
“Such a tight little willing cunt,” Tobi growled. He sunk you into the couch with each powerful thrust, pulling out until the tip of his cock tickled your entrance, only to slam back into you with a bruising pace. “Just like I thought …”
You mewled and whined underneath him, the force of his pounding overwhelming. You felt the tightness return to your stomach as Tobi praised your cunt for taking him so well, his fingers dancing over your clit. You choked out against his grip, resisting another eye-roll as it becomes too much ―
Only for Tobi to pull out entirely, leaving you disturbingly barren.
“No ―!” You gasped, your orgasm sinking beyond the horizon. Tobi’s hand left you and you raised ― only for him to twist you over. You tits jiggled and squeeze against the cushions as Tobi wrung your hands around, holding them at your back.
You relented all control, eyes closing; does this mean he’s not stopping?
You felt the heat of his cock against your skin, slipping through the plush slip of your ass, then ―
Your pained squeal mingled with Tobi’s laughter as his cock slipped into your puckered ass.
“Tobi …!”
He paid you no mind, gripped your hips, thrusting before you could adjust to his length. You bit into your tongue as he dragged your ass back to meet him.
“Perfect …”
You tried to bury yourself in the cushions ― only to be pulled back by Tobi’s grip on your hair. You arched, this time only to accommodate his hold on you. The thrusts shifted from painful to painfully pleasurable, and you moaned in his hold, rocking back into his hands.
“Good,” Tobi said. “Don’t pretend like you don’t like it, miss.”
You could feel the plush of your ass bouncing against his abdomen, the tightness coming back but of a different kind. You clenched your ass involuntarily, choked as Tobi’s weight came over your back, his hand shadowing your cunt, palming your clit.
“You wanna come?” he breathed in your ear. “Want your patient to make you cum?”
You balance against the couch’s arm with a loud moan, Tobi’s hold on your hair flipping your head back.
“Yes! Gods, Tobi, please ―!”
Your hands fist over the loose cushions as Tobi pounded you with all his force. He released your hair as you came with a scream, your head falling into the couch. Your orgasm speared you along with his cock, and yet he kept on, thrusting hard into you.
“Yes …!” Tobi hissed.
It had felt as though you had been fucked forever when he finally pulled out. You twisted your head to see him leave the couch, but there was no need; Tobi lifted your head, his grip strong enough to make you abandon the couch and land on your knees in front of him.
A sinful thrum of pleasure fluttered your pussy as you knew what was to come. Tobi fisted his cock above your face. You closed your eyes.
With a deep groan, his cum painted your skin ― your lips, your chin, the upper plains of your chest. You licked up some of the heated coating that frosted your lips.
Once finished, Tobi still stood above you, head hung back, completely clothed, and it occurred to you that the two of you were at the moment opposites in every way. You occupied yourself, devouring the bitterness of his seed as he settled into post-coital bliss.
It was you who raised to meet him, wrapping arms around his waist, head tilted to see him.
“Come back,” You said. “Just one more time.”
Tobi tilted his head at you, inquisitive but quiet. He seemed more human to you now, but no less a mystery.
“You’ve seen too much.”
“I won’t tell a soul,” You said, tightening your grip. Who would you tell? Who cared? “I promise. I just … want you.”
Let me come with you. Whatever it was Tobi did, whether it was underground, corrupt, illegal, you didn’t care. You wanted whatever this was to last, you wanted to know Tobi, intimately, forever. You wanted to be the help he needed, his partner, his …
Tobi’s hand came to cup your head, a gesture that came with pain due to the many grips on your scalp, but his hold was gentle.
“I want to help you …” You said. “You know I can; in more ways than one, if you want …”
Tobi's mismatched gaze roamed to the floor. He considered what you were saying. Then, he smiled.
It saw it come before it came. Would he kill you? Or …?
“You remind me so much of her,” Tobi said. “She would’ve wanted to help me, too …”
You choose not to delay your demise, whatever shape it came in. You brought a hand up to his cheek, turning his gaze back to you ―
You admired the purple of his eye, the scarlet of the other ―
Blackness.
-----------------------------------
You had gone completely limp in his hold. He held at the small of your back, your body arched against him as though dipped in a dance.
“Sorry, Miss …” Tobi said, his lighter voice alleviating the tension he felt in his chest. “But this is what you’re good at. Tobi can’t take you away.”
He settled you on the couch, retrieved the folded blanket that was lingering on its back and sheltered your naked body with it.
“You can’t ever know Tobi, and you won’t remember him, either,” Tobi said. “Tobi thinks it’s better this way. Because, in the end … You can’t ever know Tobi. We’re all just playing parts.”
He saw an older Rin in your sleeping face, saw you as your lips parted and snuggled into the interior of the couch.
“This was good for Tobi, though,” Tobi said as he approached the door. “Tobi … enjoyed talking about his feelings.”
Tobi took one more lingering look at you, before readjusting the mask he wore at all times and left the door, locking it behind him.
#tobi#obito uchiha#obito uchiha x reader#obito uchiha smut#naruto obito#naruto tobi#naruto x reader#obito x y/n#tobi x y/n#naruto smut#💕.nsfw#my work
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All is bliss
Chapter 2
Cw: underage sex, bad sex, infidelity, sexualy transmitted diseases, biological warfare and casual incest
Gif by @alicentloyalist
Rated: M
Taglist: @mercedesdecorazon @darylandbethfanforever9
Aemma wishes she could divest herself of her skin and grow a new one.
She bathes in scalding water, scrubs until the maid stops her to prevent scratches and no matter how much she tries, the princess cannot rid herself of the headache, unpleasantness, and utter disgust she feels this morning.
Most women pray for a child, she finds herself begging the gods to make her barren.
Or better yet, give Aegon the Lyseni disease so his prick shrivels up and maybe he dies.
“That bad, eh?” Teora asks as Aemma hugs her Septa and cries on her shoulder.
“More tedious than horrific, but I never want to lie with him again.” She admits it as her septa.
Aemma feels sore, there was far too much blood on the sheets leading for her to panic and scream, there was a vague memory of telling him to hurry the fuck up and she cannot recall what she told Aemond before Aegon barreled through the door and tripped over the Myrish rug.
She has a vague memory of kissing him, or wanting to kiss him, but she cannot be sure.
“Mother have mercy.” The Septa only says in response when the maids bring out the sheets. “It will get better, dearest.”
That is all anyone will say to her, they cannot tell her anything else.
So much hangs on this marriage.
So much so that she doesn’t tell anyone what happened last night.
As far as her mother knows, it was just awkward, and she hardly remembers it from the drinking.
“It will get better.” Aemma tells herself as she begins the rest of her life.
It is an odd thing to see herself reflected on the daughter of her now worst enemy.
The daughter of a brazen whore and a sword swallowing degenerate.
And yet, Aemma Velaryon has the same uneasy smile and feelings of disgust Alicent had when she married.
“I used to drink to make it pass.” She said quietly as the girl flinched away from Aegon and made up a lie to escape into the sept. “There is also this oil that helps ease things up, I will have Talya deliver it to your rooms before the two of you leave.”
Viserys at least tried to make her comfortable, knew that despite her feeling no attraction for him, the least he could do was make it quick and with the least pain possible.
Alicent hadn’t known pleasure until one night she spied on Rhaenyra and Harwin and came from just hearing Rhaenyra crying out as she came from her lover’s ministrations.
If Aemma is as resourceful as her mother, she would find a lover to cuckold Aegon with.
But they cannot let that happen, nothing wrong with Aegon to need someone else to copulate with his wife.
Alicent prays the wedding night results in a child.
A prince, one who takes after her mother because Alicent knows how damn difficult it is to bond with a babe that looks the man who sired them.
“My thanks, your grace.” The girl said unsure of herself as they quietly prayed in the sept.
Aemond is resolved to forget the events of the night before.
He could not be the Harwin to Aemma’s Rhaenyra.
While no one would be able to tell who had sired a child should it happen, he would not do that to Aegon.
Even if Aegon is Aegon and did not know how to value what he had.
I wish it had been you, she had whispered with so much desire for him that he would have kissed her if he hadn’t been reminded she could never be his.
She wanted him even if all they did was spend one hour in each other’s company.
It was as if they had never truly been apart.
“If you continue to stare at her like that, you will burn holes in the back of her head, your highness.” Ser Criston cautions him. Reminding him,omce again, Aemma will never be his. “You cannot have such improper thoughts about your own brother’s wife. You must think of her as a sister, nothing more, for your sake and hers.”
In other people, the phrase ‘treat her like your sister’ has a different meaning.
For a Targaryen, it means you can fuck and marry her if you the urge takes you.
“We are dragons, Cole, we fuck our sisters.” He says attempting to be witty. “They are leaving for a progress anyways, so you do not have to worry about it.”
This was a marriage for duty, everything is to be done so Rhaenyra does not make him and his brothers a head shorter.
Doesn’t help that fucking his wife feels like a chore and is worsened by her utter lack of feeling as he takes her in various positions.
The first night had not been good, the next nights he spent it with the barren chambermaid who called him ‘my king’ whenever they fuck.
No woman had been as uninterested in him as his wife.
At least it wasn’t Helaena, he supposed.
And sure, Aemma has never liked him, and he found her annoying as a child, but what woman wouldn’t want him?
Something must be wrong with her.
For fuck’s sake, she does not even grow wet from his attentions and must rely on some stupid sweet-smelling oil to make sure he doesn’t hurt her again.
She is as dull as Aemond and Helaena, hardly drinks and has more books than it is socially acceptable to have.
“Find me some whores,” he orders his valet who nods and does as he is told. Harrenhal was enormous and wherever they went, it was easy to find a woman willing to let him sow her with his seed.
Not even a half hour has passed when a comely whore is delivered into his rooms.
She was pretty, even for someone as old as mother, had a calculating look in her eyes and breasts still filled with milk.
Alys Rivers, Larys Strong’s whore sister.
Every lord has had her, said there was no better slut in the Riverlands than her.
None of her children lived so it didn’t matter if she became with child after solicitating her services.
“I have always wanted to ride a king.” She said disrobing before he must even command her to do so.
If she is as good as they say, Aegon will make the Clubfoot bring her to Kingslanding.
She might serve his wife and him, who knows perhaps a dragon’s seed is all that she needs to cure her barrenness.
After he takes their host’s sister into his bed, he ceases to visit her.
Despite the looks of pity, she gets from the ladies and lords here, Aemma is just too relieved.
So relieved, she makes the bards sing and play for her as she dances alone in her rooms.
She is even in a good mood the following morning when she breaks fast with Aegon.
They have nothing in common, worse, he won’t even try to get her to like him.
His cruelty towards others doesn’t help either and he won’t even read books that aren’t erotic so they have nothing to talk about.
His friends and companions are all sycophants who let him fuck their wives and sisters for advancement in court, and no one here has the fucking courage to even correct him when he's wrong.
They call him king even when he gains a crown because it will fall on her.
Aemma prays to the Mother her womb does not quicken.
Not now, nor ever.
“He will die without heirs, at least real ones sired by him.” Lady Alys Rivers said as she lights a candle for the Crone.
Her mother was a woods witch devoted to the Crone, and yet for all her so-called magic, Alys remained just the pox filled Cow of Harrenhal, who lives to nourish other women’s babes and fuck their husbands, so they don’t fuck them.
“You are welcome, by the way.” She gives a friendly smile and then Aemma sees the pox marks on the column of her neck disappear as if by magic. “All will be bliss in the court of Aemma the Great.”
Aegon arrives at Maidenpool with a pox so strong, the Maesters do not know how he survived it.
#aemma velaryon#aemond targaryen x velaryon!oc#all is bliss fic#aegon ii x oc x aemond#aegon ii x oc#alys rivers
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i | s a id | i m | f i n e
i | s a i d | i m | f i n e
Sirius says he's fine, but showed up to the Potters on Christmas Eve barely alive. Something about that doesn't seem "fine" to anyone! After locking himself in his room for 3 days, y/n takes matters into her own hands.
warnings and such: mentions of abuse, sleep deprivation, angst, swearing, sad! and scared! Sirius
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James Potter was a rather loud person, the life of the party, he could light up a room just by walking in, he was sunshine on a cloudy day- all the clichés that make him a lovable person- but his inability to whisper at 2 am? He might not make it to breakfast alive!
"Padfoot, come on! Open the door, please!"
"James!" I hissed through gritted teeth, poking my head out of my own bedroom door at the end of the hallway. "If you wake me up one more night this week-"
"Y/n, he's obviously not fine! He just needs to talk to someone! I know if he just-"
"Don't you dare say anything about him opening that door!"
James opened and closed his mouth a few times, clearly trying to decide whether or not it was worth arguing with me about it. He finally groaned in defeat, running a hand through his already unkempt hair.
"Will you try? Sirius loves you, maybe he'll listen to you?"
"Prongs, he loves you too, but he needs space. And time. And sleep!"
James laughed nervously, avoiding eye contact with me for a moment.
"Please?"
I sighed, reserved to loose sleep for the rest of my life if I didn't try to talk to Sirius. I nodded, but told James he had to go back to bed. He went, reluctantly.
You should have just gone back to sleep Y/N, honestly. How you manage to get yourself into every possible situation-
*knock* *knock*
"Alohamora," I whispered, hearing the lock click before pushing open the door, closing it quickly behind me. Obviously James hadn't tried that yet!
"Prongs, for fucks sake, I told you I'm f-" Sirius spun around, ready to rip my throat out of I really had been James. "Oh, hello!"
I held my hands up in defense
"Where's James?"
"He went to the bathroom," i lied, though it seemed innocent enough, "I'm hiding in here before he comes to bother me next!"
"Y/n, I've told you guys i'm fine! I don't need a damn babysitter! You can leave!"
"Yeah, I know you're fine. You've told us about 100 times..."
"Yes! Thank you! Now will you please go tell James that before he-" I could feel Sirius watching me as I walked further into the room, pulling back the covers on bed and crawling in.
"No, no. Go tell James."
"I'll tell him in the morning, Pads, I promise, but please don't make me leave! He's been keeping me up allllll night and i'm so tired!" That one wasn't a lie.
Sirius groaned and grumbled, looking at me with a heavy sign before throwing his own hands up in surrender.
"I hate all of you. And you're in my spot."
I rolled my eyes, but much to my dismay he was literally trying to 'shoo' me out of the spot in bed.
I laid on my back, arms stretched out to the side, trying to make myself comfortable. I had my eyes closed and didn't see Sirius crawling in to bed beside me, though I felt him move around quite excessively. He kept kicking my shin and I was just about to yell at him when-
The groan was caught in my throat, squeezing it's way out under the weight pressing down on top of me. My eyes snapped open and I was met with a mess of soft black hair, Sirius' arms wrapping around me as he tried to make himself comfortable. He finally settled with a 'huff'
I rolled my eyes, but couldn't help smiling to myself. I hugged him back, playing with the ends of his hair and decided that if this is what he needed, i'd be happy to give it to him. I must admit, this was nice.
"I told you guys, I'll fine." he repeated
"I know."
Sirius lay still and quiet for quite some time, his breathing got heavier and my own eyes began to succumb to the promise of sleep until-
"Y/n?"
"Hmm?"
"I'm not fine," Sirius croaked out, his grip on me becoming impossibly tight as he buried his face in the crook of my neck.
I suppressed a gasp as I tried to comfort him, still a bit shocked and unable to move. One hand cradled his head, the other rubbed up and down his back, trying to still his breathing. I soon felt warm tears littering my skin, and could have sworn a felt my own heart break.
"I got you, love, it's okay." I kissed the top of his head
"I hate her!" he sobbed
I knew he was talking about Walburga. I had only met her once and even I hated her! I hadn't met anyone who had a single decent thing to say about her. Any mother who would do what she did to her sons deserved to meet dementors, face to face.
"I'm sorry.."
"It's all my fault" he sobbed
"Sirius, nothing is your fault!"
"I should have stayed,"
"You would have died-"
"What if she kills him?!"
Regulus.
"Look at me,"
I shoved Sirius off of me just enough to slide down the bed, laying face to face with him. His arms immediately wound around me again, gripping tightly to the back of my t shirt. I held his head in both hands, tipping his chin up to look at me, and carefully wiped the tears from his cheeks. I kissed his forehead, his nose, and the cheek that wasn't pressed to the pillow. He sighed, and I wiped more tears from his face.
"Sirius, listen to me." His eyes were closed as he tried to steady his breathing but he nodded, acknowledging me as I spoke.
"You've spent your entire life protecting everyone else, including your brother. Not once have you expected anything in return. You're the most selfless person I've ever met! You left that house because you had no choice. If you stayed, you would have died. Then what?!"
"What if she kills him because I'm not there?" he began to cry again, and I resumed kissing his face.
"Do you know that James would do anything for you? That Moony would do anything for you? That Peter would do anything for us? That I would do anything for any of you?"
"What's the point?"
"Do you trust us?"
"What-"
"Yes? or No?"
"Yes.."
"Sirius, if your brother wants out of that house, if he needs to get out of that house- we will get him out. No questions asked. We would do it for you. For both of you. THAT is what family is for."
He was quiet for a minute, as if thinking this over
"Will you check on him?"
"Everyday!"
"Promise?" he sniffled, holding a bony pinky finger in front of my face.
"I promise."
This seemed to satisfy Sirius. I intended to make good on that promise, and check on Regulus everyday at school. He and I had been getting alone well and becoming closer, but I don't think Sirius understood to what extent that was.
Either way, I knew with full confidence that Regulus Black was not going to die at the hands of his mother.
Sirius and I stayed quiet for a while, the feeling of sleep crept up on me again, an overwhelming wave of exhaustion spilling into my body-
*knock* *knock*
"Y/n? Sirius?"
"James, I'm going to chop off your fingers."
"Woah, woah! Why so hostile y/n/n?"
"Moony?!"
"We just wanted to check on you guys, but at the risk of dying or loosing extremities, we can chat in the morning!"
The boys back out slowly, laughing as they did, and closed the door behind themselves.
"Fine." I groaned, sinking lower in the bed, pulling the covers high over my head, resting with a thud on Sirius' stomach.
"Oi, you alright?"
"I said I'm fine!" That came out a bit harsher than I intended, but it was an excellent impression of Sirius from earlier in the night!
Sirius stilled for a moment before he began to laugh. I couldn't help but join in.
After all, he really was fine!
#sirius black#sirius#sirius being sirius#ancient and most noble house of black#james potter#remus lupin#y/n#sirius black x reader#marauders#marauders era#angst#comfort#best friends#sirius deserved better#moony#wormtail#padfoot#prongs#walburga's a+ parenting
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