#was a little slow but it made me ugly cry at the end | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lovebugism · 29 days

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Could you pleaseeee do more single dad!Eddie 🥺

✶ ┄ MAYDAY ! [ stand by me ]

summary: after totally embarrassing yourself at eddie's kid's birthday party, the metalhead single dad from the trailer park shows you his (perhaps equally embarrassing) favorite movie. (2.9k)

pairing: dad!eddie munson / f!reader

tags: eddie and maeve universe, strangers to lovers (eventually), slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love, girl dad eddie munson™, fluff, ugly crying at movies

You never did crack open that bottle.

The one you accidentally brought to Eddie’s kid’s birthday party? Yeah, that one. The glass container sits unopened on the coffee table in front of you, casting amber reflections on the old wood beneath the lamplight. It’s just a silly conversation starter now. You’ve got no real reason to drink it, anyway.

There’s nothing more intoxicating than Eddie Munson’s presence.

Sunrays spill from your mouth when you tip your head back to laugh. You turn to look at the boy on the other end of the couch, and your warm cheek squishes against the cushion. “Stand By Me is not your favorite movie!” you argue, giggling softly with disbelief.

Eddie has no idea how big he’s smiling. He’s too busy staring at you to notice the beam on his face.

He shrugs his shoulders, now free from the confines of his leather jacket. He wears a faded Peanuts shirt now. A hand-me-down, you figure. “I mean… Land Before Time is a really close second,” he answers in a teasing lilt.

“Oh, yeah. Only the saddest movie ever made.”

“Maeve used to love it. And, like, not in a normal way— She used to make me play it for her until the tape spun out,” Eddie tells you, chuckling softly to himself. “It grew on me eventually, but… Then she grew out of it.”

You watch him get all forlorn at the thought. You meet his subtle pout with a scrunched nose. “Well, she’s only four, right? Surely, she hasn’t had time to grow out of much.”

Eddie scoffs and slouches further on the couch until his thighs spread. “You’d be surprised. Every time I think I— you know— start to understand her a little bit or whatever, she just… She changes, you know? Like, overnight.”

He doesn’t mean to get so suddenly sentimental about the whole thing. Especially not in front of a pretty girl he only met eight hours ago. He’ll blame it on the late night and the existential dread that always comes with birthdays. He conceals his brooding behind a dumb joke.

“I mean, just this morning, Maeve’s favorite animal was a Hefflelump… Now it’s a blobfish.”

You try to hold back your laughter. You fail. The sunshine-coated giggle sputters from your mouth despite your attempts to keep it hidden. Eddie only laughs because you are.

“I should’ve said turtle or something,” you humor with a roll of your eyes, tucking your knees to your chest. “Or, like, a badger. Maybe then I wouldn’t have gotten made fun of all day.”

“Those aren’t any less normal,” Eddie chuckles with a lopsided grin, dark chocolate eyes twinkling ‘cause he never really liked normal anyway.

You shrug. “Agree to disagree.”

“You wanna know something?” he blurts after a long beat of silent smiles. “When I tucked her in, she made me promise to take her to the aquarium tomorrow. Said she wanted to see ‘if the blobfish were just as gross in real life.’

You smile so wide your eyes squint at the edges. “Do they have blobfish at the aquarium?” you laugh.

Eddie shrugs. “Probably not. But she’ll get to pet a stingray or somethin’. Then she’ll forget all about it.”

“Sounds fun…” you murmur, picking at pills of cotton on the old couch with a suddenly anxious hand.

“Yeah. Parenting always is,” Eddie hums with a distant smile. “Even when it isn’t.”

“Should I— Should I, like, go?” you stammer.

The boy seems shocked by your question. His fluffy brows pinch as he hums. “Huh?”

You squirm, less than comfortable in your own skin. “Well, I mean, it’s… It’s getting kinda late and everything, and… If you guys are going into the city in the morning, I don’t wanna, like, keep you or whatever—”

Suddenly anxious, Eddie sits up a little straighter. “No! No, it’s okay. I don’t mind,” he responds, then quickly follows with wide eyes. “Unless— Unless you want to leave—”

“I don’t!” you answer, equally flustered.

Eddie forces an awkward chuckle. “I don’t want you to think I’m, like, keeping you hostage here or something—”

“I just don’t wanna overstay my welcome—”

“You couldn’t,” he insists.

You nod, and in a mousy voice, you reply, “Well, you couldn’t keep me hostage, so…”

Eddie grins. “Good.”

“Good,” you echo.

“So… Wanna watch a movie or something?” he offers with a fluttering heart and fidgeting hands.

He feels like a teenage boy all over again — only he never actually got the opportunity to ask a pretty girl out when he was a teenager. People weren’t exactly fighting to spend time with the local freak back then. Or now, really.

Except you.

“Whaddaya got?”

“Well, let’s see…” he says, grunting as he rises from the couch.

Eddie walks the short distance to the box television across the room — which Maeve has carefully decorated with a collection of sparkly stickers. He sorts through the VHS tapes stacked in less-than-organized piles with a ringed hand, realizing must’ve left all the good stuff at Wayne’s.

“Oh, you know… All the Maeve Munson favorites…” he singsongs with a sigh.

“Surprise me,” you call from the couch.

Eddie rises then, with two bulky VHSs clutched within ringed fingers. He holds them on either side of his face and grins between them. “Stand By Me or Land Before Time?”

“Stand By Me,” you answer with a firm nod. “Unless, you know, you wanna see me ugly cry.”

“That’s second date territory,” he quips with a wink, suddenly and very uncharacteristically cool. “Stand By Me it is.”

—————

You’re crying on a stranger’s couch about ninety minutes later.

The credits roll in static colors on the tiny television across from you. The low bass of a nostalgic song floats quietly through the living room — If the sky, that we look upon, should tumble and fall… Or the mountains, should crumble to the sea…

Eddie looks on with a sympathetic beam as you hide your teary face behind your palms. He can’t tell if you’re shaking from sobs or from laughter. Maybe a healthy mixture of both. “I thought you weren’t gonna cry!” he chuckles.

You peek at him through your fingers. Your eyes are glassy with tears and squinting at the edges with a smile. “I forgot how sad it was!” you sniffle, then laugh at yourself.

I won’t cry, I won’t cry… No, I won’t shed a tear…

“You’re crying, too!” you observe as the boy beside you wipes at his eyes with his fingertips. You reach over to shove him with a playful hand. “You big softy!”

Eddie scoffs and swipes his nose with the back of his wrist. “I’m not crying! I’m just… I had something in my eye.”

“Tears?” you tease with a scrunched nose.

He nods, and with a sheepish look in his eyes, he says, “Yeah…”

Your quiet laughter entwines, filling the dim living room with something sparkly and golden. The sound of violins swells in a similar way. Eddie’s eyes flutter shut as he begins singing the lyrics to himself, not really trying but sounding pretty anyway.

“Just as long, as you stand, stand by me…” he croons quietly. You beam and sing softly along with him, audibly less serious about the whole thing. “And darlin’! Darlin’! Stand by me… Oh, stand by me—”

Both of you quieten when a door squeaks about open down the hall. The distant screech is followed by the patter of tiny footsteps. Eddie huffs and sits up a little straighter. “Ah, shit…”

Your face floods with horror. “Was I too loud?” you whisper.

“No. It’s just midnight,” he answers, shaking his wild head. “She always wakes up at midnight. Like my personal little Gremlin.”

Maeve appears in the dark hallway then, drowning in one of her dad’s old t-shirts. Corroded Coffin, the front of it reads, in what seems to be hand-made lettering. The thing fits her like a gown.

Her curls sit in an untamed halo around her head from the intensity of her slumber. She rubs at her swollen eyes with chubby fists. Eddie can’t help but grin at the sight of her.

“Hey, Mayday,” he coos. “What happened? You can’t sleep?”

The girl shuffles to her father like it’s muscle memory to her. Still half-asleep, she grips his shirt with graceless fingers and climbs onto his lap with her eyes still shut. She cuddles into his torso, fitting perfectly there, while you sit frozen on the other side of the couch. Like maybe if you’re real still, she won’t notice you’re there.

“We gonna go see da blobfish now?” she wonders in tiny slurs against his chest.

Eddie’s cheek squishes against her head when he smiles. The expression gets lost in her wild chestnut locks. “Not yet, May. It’s too late— All the fishies are sleeping now. Like you should be.”

She shifts on his lap like she’s trying to get more comfortable there. Her cheek, indented with lines of sleep, rubs against his shirt when she turns to look up at him. “Need you to tuck me in,” she tells him, tiny chin bobbing against his chest.

Eddie juts back to see her better. “Again?” he humors with his brows raised behind his curly bangs.

“Mhmm,” she nods, slow and sleepy.

“Okay,” he hums, scoffing a tired chuckle. “I’ll tuck you in again, bug.”

You don’t mean to laugh. It just crawls up your throat and out of your mouth before you can stop it. You try to hide it behind your palm, but Maeve still notices.

Her fluffy brows scrunch together when she turns to you. She swipes at the hair sticking to her cheek with a fumbling hand to see you better. She doesn’t say anything, though. She just kinda blinks at you, with a brown-eyed, emotionless gaze.

You muster a wavering smile at the girl, lifting your hand in an unsure wave.

“Wanna go see the blobfish with us tomorrow?” Maeve blurts. Though, in her less than awake state, it sounds more like wanna go see da bobfish wiv us tommowow? It’s like you can feel your heart melting.

“The aquarium,” Eddie clarifies.

You squirm in your seat. “Oh, I… I can’t,” you sigh, then follow quickly when she pouts. “I wish I could! It sounds super fun, but I’m… I’m busy…”

You aren’t, really. ‘Cause tomorrow’s Saturday — the only thing you really have to do is try to wake up before noon. You just don’t know how else to turn her down.

“Maybe next time?” Eddie offers hopefully, mostly for Maeve’s sake.

You nod rapidly, just for Maeve. “Yeah. Next time. Definitely.”

“See? It’s okay,” Eddie lilts, squeezing gently at the girl’s sides until she’s smiling again. “We can have fun just you and me, right?”

Maeve pouts in response, a sort of snarled face that’s obviously playful.

Eddie laughs loud and boyishly in return. “Hey! Don’t make that face at me!” he exclaims, feigning offense. Maeve loses her poker face almost instantly as she giggles. “Go get in bed, you weirdo. I’ll tuck you in in a second.”

“And read me another book?” she presses hopefully.

He nods, knowing it’s a fight he’s bound to lose. “And read you another book.”

“Two of them?”

The girl holds her pointer and middle finger in front of her face. Eddie chuckles and guides the latter back down with a gentle hand. “One,” he corrects.

“Two.”

“One.”

“Two!”

A brief stare-off ensues, one in which you’ve got a front-row seat. Maeve’s dark chocolate gaze resembles her father’s — button-eyed and swimming with something honeyed and stubborn. She tilts her chin to her chest and glares unwavering at the man in front of her.

Eddie inevitably caves. He sighs so deeply his chest deflates. “Fine… Two. But only if you run real fast.”

Maeves slides down his denim-clad legs until her bare feet hit the carpet. She scurries down the hall without another word, quiet giggles fading with her footsteps. Eddie slumps against the couch with a small, contented sigh.

You realize you haven’t stopped smiling for several minutes now. “She’s really sweet,” you compliment to fill the silence.

Eddie scoffs a gentle laugh. “Yeah. When she wants to be.”

The quiet returns. You run out of things to say. The notion of the late-late night settles more heavily upon you. You swallow hard and fight for a way out that doesn’t make it sound like Eddie hasn’t just given you one of the best nights of your life.

“I think I’m gonna—”

“Well, I should—”

The boy starts speaking at the same time as you. You cut each other off without trying, then laugh quietly at yourselves.

“You first,” you tell him.

“I should go tuck Maeve in before she goes all Mayday mode and starts screaming at me,” Eddie says, only partly joking.

His sweet little Maeve is only Mayday when she’s throwing a too-passionate tantrum. Or when it’s past midnight, and she’s acting like a total gremlin. He doesn’t particularly want you to witness either. ‘Cause kids tend to be pretty gnarly sometimes — especially when you aren’t the one raising them.

“Yeah, I should probably start heading home, anyway,” you reply. “It’s late.”

Eddie rises with a small huff. You follow behind him towards the front door, both of you moving with slow and heavy strides — neither particularly wanting the other to go.

“Thanks for keeping me company,” he says beneath the sound of the screeching screen door. “And for helping Maeve have a good day and everything… Most people don’t really consider hanging out with a four-year-old and her dad a good time, so…”

“Well, most people are weirdos,” you scoff and slide past him through the doorway. “You and Maeve are, like, the coolest people in Hawkins.”

You stand ahead of him on the front steps of the trailer, glowing beneath the silver moon and the buzzing amber porchlight. Eddie lingers in the entryway and holds the door open with his shoulder, so he can hear Maeve when she inevitably starts shouting for him.

“Yeah, I don’t know about that,” he wavers with a scrunched nose. “Maeve’s pretty cool and all, but… She definitely didn’t get that from me.”

“Your favorite movies are Land Before Time and Stand By Me,” you deadpan with a flat face. A smile inevitably pulls at your lips when you look at him too long, pretty as he is. “You’re cool, Eddie. Whether you wanna be or not.”

“Agree to disagree,” he grins, totally sheepish as he shrugs off the compliment. “Thanks for hangin’ around. Again.”

He feels like he’s said that too many times now, but he’s too full of gratitude to stop. It’s been just him and Maeve for so long. And, yeah, sure, Steve and Robin come around when they can, but they’ve got their own lives outside of this one. It isn’t every day someone appears at his trailer with a bottle of booze and the wherewithal to acclimate to his chaotic life.

Eddie feels like he should never stop thanking you, really.

You shrug. “Thanks for keeping me around. Again.”

“See you soon?” he wonders with a hopeful glint in his dark eyes, made a much lighter amber in the moonlight.

You nod firmly once. “‘Course.”

And even though that’s as good a dismissal as any, you both linger in the doorway still. Like your feet are glued in place.

How are you supposed to walk away from him? The man with wild rockstar curls, rings on each finger, and a beaded bracelet with his daughter’s initial in the very center. The man who loves cartoons more than his toddler and cries with you at sad movies?

You figure you’ll spend forever chasing this foreign feeling he’s so effortlessly given you.

“Daddy!” Maeve shouts. Her high-pitched voice rings through the tiny trailer. It makes you wince a little. You didn’t think something so tiny could be so loud.

“And there’s Mayday…” Eddie lilts quietly, unflinching ‘cause he’s used to this by now.

“I’ll go,” you laugh, walking backward towards your car. “I’ll— I’ll see you around.”

“G’night,” he calls to you as he watches you go.

His chest stings when he realizes he never asked for your number. It feels much too awkward to do it now, and he’s only got a few minutes more before Maeve goes crazy on him. He should’ve asked you ages ago, really. But he didn’t. ‘Cause he’s an idiot.

You notice it, too, but you flash him a sheepish smile over your shoulder anyway. Even if you never hear from him again after you’re gone, you figure there’s always next year.

Maeve will be another year older. Steve will bring you along to her party if you beg. Eddie will be in desperate need of a pick-me-up, and you’ll bring a bottle of booze just to make him smile. The alcohol will go untouched, though, as the two of you get lost in conversation and Stand By Me.

Even if all this was only destined to happen once every year — even if it was only supposed to happen once and never again — you’ll spend the rest of your life grateful that it happened at all.

With a cold hand trembling with longing, you wrench your car door open. Though your heart’s heavy with a distant worry that you may never be back here again, you grin at him through the grief and the small distance between you.

“Good night, Eddie.”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #eddie and maeve

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munsonsreputation · 3 months

Text

i'm falling in love, again

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: [6.7K]

warnings: no use of y/n, friends to lovers, infidelity (reader's ex), characters are in their early 20s, modern!au (they've got cellphones and text messages okay!!!), cursing, some angst w/ fluff ending.

summary: you thought the plane was going down, but somehow, someway, all the fates and all the stars aligned, and now you were lost in labyrinth of Steve Harrington’s mind forever.

“Hey doll,” Steve greeted softly, holding out a bunch of flowers towards your figure that stood slouched against the wooden doorway, sadness filled orbs meeting his.

You pouted deeply, eyes brewing with tears that blurred him out before you blinked and set them loose. He made a sound, sighed and tsking before he finally closed the space and wrapped you up in his arms, letting you fall against him while you wept into the crook of his neck.

“H-hi Steve.” You croaked, fingers sinking into his back, trying to anchor yourself as he rubbed your skin up and down attempting to sooth the biting warmth that swarmed your body.

Pulling away slightly to look down at your tear-stained face, he gave you a tight smile and gripped you a little tighter.

“Let’s go inside, yeah?” He suggested.

You nodded, pulling yourself away from him and swiping your cheeks with your fingers, letting him step into your apartment watching as he locked the door shut and toed off his shoes.

It was emptier than usual, missing footwear from the shoe rack and lonely pegs of the key holder that used to hold another’s. Your ex had finally come around to pick up his things that were left behind. Even if it was a month of separation and him overseas preparing you to see him, it sucked the soul out of your body when he knocked and stood on the other side waiting for you to let him in now that the locks were changed and his spare was no use.

“Sorry for the mess,” You sniffled, gesturing pathetically around the disheveled area, still trying to get rid of everything that reminded you of him and the things that he left behind.

He shook his head, setting the flowers down on the kitchen table and walking over to you. You hated crying in front of him mostly because he hated seeing you so sad, but you couldn’t help what you were feeling inside.

“Don’t apologize. I’m never gonna judge you.” He reminded you never wanting you to feel bad for feeling how you did.

His hands fidgeted with your fingers, rubbing comforting circles over your skin, hoping to get the slow trail of tears to stop pouring and your breathing to even out.

“What do you wanna do?” He proposed, speaking so delicately, careful and considerate, “I can help you get rid of whatever you want out or we can sit down and talk, or we don’t have to talk at all. Whatever you want…I’m here.”

The truth is, Steve was always there through the good, the bad, the ugly, and the stunning. He was one of your closest friends who saw you through and through everything and no matter what, he always made it clear that the second you needed him or anybody, he would be there.

He was the first one to officially meet your ex before he even asked you to be his girlfriend. It all happened when you went on your first date that was soon running a little too late into the evening. Steve was sitting by himself in the corner of the pizzeria as per your request just in case your date turned out to be horrible and you needed a convenient way out.

Three taps of your foot against the tiles meant, “please get up and get me out of there,” and so when he saw you do just that, he didn’t hesitate to stand up and “run into you” by coincidence.

“Oh, hey! I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight.” Steve beamed, holding his arms out wide as you smiled and stood up from your seat, embracing him in a hug.

“Hey Steve!” You greeted, pulling away and turning to your date.

“This is my friend, Steve! We actually live in the same apartment complex.” You explained, watching as they both shook hands and Steve nodded towards him.

Steve snapped his fingers, pointing at you as if he remembered something. “Don’t forget that maintenance is shutting off the water at 2 in the morning—that leak is still going at it.” He cursed, shaking his head.

You gasped, nudging his shoulder. “You’re so right! I totally forgot about that.”

Passing your date an apologetic look, you picked up your purse and slung it over your arm.

“I’m so sorry, but I think I should head home. I definitely want to shower before the water gets shut off for god knows how long.”

He stood up, nodding her head, and gesturing out the windows, “Sure thing! Did you want me to drop you—”

Steve cut him off, shaking his head and draping his arm over your shoulders.

“I think we could walk together, just makes sense since we live in the same place and it’ll save you some gas.” Steve assured him, as you nodded in agreement and said your goodbyes.

It wasn’t long before your arm hooked over his and you two were walking the busy streets back to your apartment complex only a good ten minutes away. You and Steve often walked together to do groceries, get late night pizza, or just to get out of your apartments for a while. He never let you walk alone though… that was always his rule.

“Did he say something stupid?” Steve suspected, peering over at you.

You shook your head, silently continuing to walk with him.

“Is he not funny?” He tried again.

You laughed this time, pushing against him gently as he nearly tripped over his own feet.

“He wasn’t not funny.” You chided.

He wanted to beg to differ, seeing as though you spent most of the date nodding and smiling, not much laughter going on, but maybe he was just reading too much into it. But he tried to think up what could have made you want to cut the date short and head back home thirty minutes earlier than you were supposed to.

“Do you not find him attractive?” He said once more.

Your lips curled, eyes shooting up to think to yourself as you neither shook your head nor nodded, just simply shrugging.

“He’s great, I had fun… I just don’t know where this is gonna go.” You pointed out, stopping at the crosswalk.

He leaned over you, fist knocking into the button, waiting for the light to turn red.

“Where do you want it to go?” He met your eyes, staring into them deeply, hoping to get a glimpse of the future, yet all he could see was the slight reflection of himself.

You smiled unknowingly, taking a deep breath and letting your shoulder fall.

“We’ll see.” You whispered, tugging him along through the crosswalk.

Two piles were made in the middle of your living room: trash and donate. You and Steve went through boxes of stuff your ex had left behind, clothes, old records, knick knacks — everything that he had left for you to deal with, as if breaking your heart wasn’t enough.

“Why did he always dress like he was in boarding school?” Steve cackled, folding up a pair of slacks that added to the already tall pile of dress clothes that would be going to the Salvation Army.

You giggled, sifting through the rest of the stuff you had set aside, and hid in the back of your closet, hoping to avoid until now.

“He was really going for that stuck up, private school, douchebag look I guess.” You scorned, huffing as you chucked a meaningless valentines card into the trash bag.

You didn’t care for keeping anything from him even just for memory's sake — if anything you wanted to burn him out of your memory and forget that he ever even existed to begin with.

“Well, on the bright side, someone else is gonna be wearing these clothes to their first professional interview, but hopefully whoever it is isn’t such a jackass.” Steve scoffed, moving the pile aside to make space for the rest of the things.

“Yeah, let’s hope.” You breathed, reaching the bottom of the box, plucking out the white envelope that laid by itself.

You froze for a second, throat tightening up and your heart thumping against your chest a little stronger. It had been the thing you found that confirmed your suspicions that your ex wasn’t being as loyal as he was claiming to be. In fact, he had been sharing his devotion to another woman… one that you thought was just a friend from work, though you should have read the signs way before then.

“You okay?” Steve furrowed his brows at the sudden silence, turning to see you go rigid while you stared at the piece of paper.

The front of it was marked with her initials and his in a big red heart, encasing their names like it was some kind of holy matrimony. The other side stained with her red lipstick marks that she had left behind. The contents of the letter: a confession of her love for him — how she couldn’t believe she had gotten so lucky to find someone whom she got to see every day even if it was during boring meetings and long nights at the office.

Your heart felt like it had dropped from its cages right down to your gut, a sort of free falling feeling similar to the rise of an elevator that would come plunging down. You wanted to be in denial, re-reading the letter over and over again hoping that maybe your mind was seeing things that they weren’t supposed to — but that was the joke of it all.

You weren’t supposed to see it, but you did.

You felt the rise, quickly taking you up to the floor that you were supposed to be on, only to be left hugging yourself, not even being given a warning to brace the crash.

“I—It’s the letter.” You let out, swallowing the lump in your throat, eyes staying glued to the floor as you tossed it aside.

Steve was the first to know about it, too. You had called him, practically speechless not knowing how to go about it. He swore the first five minutes of the phone call was him asking you if you were alright and if you were still there — nothing could have prepared him for what you were about to say next.

“I…I think he might be cheating on me.” You whispered, closing your eyes, doing your best to not take it out of proportion.

Steve just jeered, puffing out a ridiculous laugh. “Why do you think that? How could he ever cheat on someone as amazing as you? I think you might be overthin—”

“I found a letter.” You confessed, and he quickly shut up then the line went silent for a few seconds.

“W-what kind of letter? I-I mean, what does it say?” He stammered over his words, still trying to grasp what was happening.

“A love letter.” You cracked, taking a harsh breath, rising up from your place on the floor to get as far away from it as possible to somehow make it feel like it wasn’t real.

“I’m so sorry,” Steve rushed the apology out.

A shuffle sounding over his voice as you let out a sob and paced your apartment panicked and distraught.

“What do I do? I—I never imagined this…never in a million years. I don’t know what to do, Steve… please, tell me, what can I do?”

You were begging, trying to make sense of the situation, even trying to see it through when you both knew there was no going back from here.

Steve wouldn’t let you do that to yourself.

A knock sounded on your door, interrupting your tears as you choked, wiping them off your cheeks, pulling the phone away from your ear slightly. You unlocked it, opening it a bit only to be met with him on the other side. He caught his breath, pushing the door open with a gently hand.

“I don’t know, but right now, I’m here okay? I’ll be here as long as you need.”

Steve stayed over that night, holding you in your arms as he read the letter to himself, trying to understand why that son of a bitch could do something so cruel to you. And when your phone went off with a text message from him, saying he’d be spending the night at the office doing paperwork ahead of the big meeting the next morning — Steve was the one who texted back for you.

You both knew he was lying, spending the night at her place instead.

It took everything in Steve to not blow up, to pounce on the moment to tell him that you had found the letter and figured everything out. That he best not even bother to come home at all because you’d be throwing him out.

But he resisted… and he always did until you were ready.

He resisted the next day when you told him to go home and get some rest after he had spent the night worrying about you and soothing you back to sleep when you would wake with the nightmares of your boyfriend and his mistress.

He resisted when you told him that you’d figure out a way to break up with your him soon, even when he knew you were holding out.

He resisted when he came to check up on you a few days later, only to be met with your boyfriend answering the door, him and his stuff still there.

He resisted when you and your friends went out for dinner, and you had dropped the bombshell on them, and could say nothing when they asked if you had broken it off already.

He never understood why you waited so long to call things off, when deep down you knew how wrong the situation was. He tried to put himself into your shoes, to imagine what you must be feeling inside that made you want to stay and be tolerated instead of celebrated. But he couldn’t feel it. He only wished you could see yourself from his eyes, then maybe you’d see it a little clearer.

That you didn’t need to stay in the footnotes or the bylines of his life, when Steve was right there, so ready and willing to make you his temple, his mural, and his sky.

But he sat and watched you until you were ready to let go — until you pulled the dagger out and lost the weight of the person who was holding you back and taking advantage of your love.

He swiped the letter away, tucking it within the folded clothes to get it out of your sights. He scooted closer to you, a tender hand coming to cradle your head and let you rest it on his shoulder.

“Do you think she knew about me?” You marveled aloud, sniffling as you grazed up at him.

He didn’t answer, just letting his fingers pull your hair behind your ears, tucking them away.

“She had to have known, right?” You stared at him, hoping he would have the answers that you’d been longing to find even after all this time.

But Steve wasn’t an expert on all this. He didn’t want to fill your head with narratives that he didn’t know were exactly true; he knew it would only make you spiral with the would’ve, could’ve, should’ve’s, but to quite honest, there was nothing that you could have done to fix it and no answer Steve could have given you to change the past.

“He didn’t deserve you. I know that much.” Steve whispered, lifting your hand in his, keeping his response short with something that he knew was sure.

You squeezed against his digits, threading your fingers through his, letting the both of you stay hand in hand on your living room floor.

“Why wasn’t I enough for him?”

He squeezed your hand three times, taking a deep breath in keeping his eyes on yours, “Because he was an idiot not satisfied with the best he had in front of him.”

Steve knew a lot about boys. After all, he once was one of them — stupid, self-centered, ignorant, and most of all ungrateful. He lived life like everything and everyone was replaceable, a kind of numbness that he had garnered since he was a little boy following the footsteps of his dad and just trying to make him proud by being a reflection of him.

Nancy Wheeler changed that for him, his first love, such a lovely experience that changed his life for the better. But it costed him losing her too. He could never step close to Jonathan Byers, the one who was man enough to love Nancy the way she wanted… the way Steve never could.

It stung for a long time. Lots of hope that maybe one day Nancy would love him again, and more hopelessness knowing that she was irrevocably in love with Jonathan and he would have hated for her to only see him in his eyes knowing her heart always belonged to him.

The heartbreak could have made him envious at the world, wanting to lash out like a wounded animal and get revenge on the entire world like some sort of villain, but it did the exact opposite.

He took it in stride even when some days were harder than the rest. There was a community of love around him, and while it wasn’t romantic, it was enough for him to see it through and know that one day when he met the one, he wouldn’t let himself let her pass by.

You released his hand, smoothing the top of his with yours as you put on a small smile taking your head off of his shoulders.

“I’m gonna make us a drink… and thank you for being here for me.” You spoke gratefully, standing up and heading for the kitchen.

He stayed there for a second, watching you closely, trying to figure out if you were running away from talking about it or if you were just over it by now. He crossed his fingers that it was the second option; he wanted you to be over it, to not be so affected and hurt anymore knowing that you were always the better half, the one who didn’t lose anything because you already had everything you needed inside of your heart.

But he also knew it tended to get like this — thoughts so loud, presence so distant, you were a world away while he was there hoping you’d find your way back home soon.

“Fuck him, he’s a piece of shit who never deserved you!”

The nightclub was so chaotic, bright lights, booming music, even louder friends who were trying to get you to feel a little better about the breakup. Nancy and Robin had arranged the night out for you with the best of intentions, seeing as though you had spent every day since the breakup inside the apartment that you used to share with him.

It didn’t help that you broke things off right before he had to go out of town for a work, all of his things still stayed where they were, not enough time for him to find a new place or ask a friend to stay with them for a while. But it wasn’t as bad as it could have been if he was still there physically.

You gulped down the shot, pinching your eyes closed when the liquid went down with a burn before being followed by the sourness of a lime. The girls cheered around you, nudging your shoulders and placing kisses on your head affectionately.

“C’mon! Let’s go dance!” Robin whistled, grabbing your hand and attempting to pull you to the dance floor with her and Nance, but you stayed grounded, just barely glued to the seat.

You flashed her a reassuring smile and waved her off to the dance floor.

“You guys go ahead! I’ll meet you there in a little…I just need some water.” You called out loud enough through the music and they both nodded, shimmying into the disco lights.

Steve tapped his fingers against the tabletop, sipping on his Coke, no alcohol added. He volunteered to be the designated driver for the night and of course, honorary body guard if anyone messed with you guys. You didn’t know if he’d want to spend the night practically babysitting three girls, but you were glad he was there nonetheless.

“You having fun?” Steve leaned over so you could hear him better.

You nodded instantly, though there was a strain in your features. Eyes shining with a glaze over them and your smile felt like it was rehearsed, something you had spent time in the mirror trying to get right so that it was believable past the frown you’d been wearing.

He looked at you unconvinced, reaching under the table to hold your hand in his, “You can tell me the truth, doll.”

“I just…” You looked around, hoping that your friends were looking at you and sure enough they were too busy dancing to the beat of the music having fun like you were supposed to be doing right then. But you definitely didn’t want to dump it on them, seeing as though they did this for you and didn’t mean any harm.

“I, I hate that everybody expects me to bounce back, just like that.” You snapped your fingers with a clack, “I want to forget about it and move on, I really do, but I just can’t do it overnight you know?”

He nodded understandingly, thumbing over your knuckles, “I know what you mean, but it only hurts this much right now because it’s raw and fresh… one day you’re gonna wake up and it won’t hurt as much.”

“I wish that day would come sooner.”

“It will,” He reassured you, squeezing your hand three times, “But what about tonight you just pretend?”

“Pretend?” You looked at him uncertainly.

“Pretend like you’re over it, or just pretend like he never even existed? Go out there and have fun and pretend like you forgot about him, just for tonight.” He told you, gesturing over to the dance floor of people who were probably doing the same.

“You think that’ll work?” You rose your brows, and he snickered, shrugging lightly.

“Won’t know if you don’t try,” Steve whistled.

“Come with me?” You tilted your head before taking the last shot on the platter.

You let it burn, not bothering with a chaser until he pushed his Coke towards you, coaxing you to take at least a sip before nodding his head with a sly smile.

“I’m following your lead, babe.”

Steve was sober, yet with his hands intertwined in yours he felt drunk on love. Laughing so hard, his cheeks hurt as he moved with you, nonstop jumping, screaming, and dancing to the music that resounded through the speakers. Even in the neon lights of the club, nothing shined as bright as you. He would do anything you wanted in order to see you this happy, even if it meant breaking his back to make you break a smile.

He stayed on that dance floor until you were tired and needed to catch a breath. His hand stayed in yours as he drove Nancy and Robin home. He stayed and held your hair back when you threw up in the toilet. And he stayed with you in his arms on your living room couch as you cried at the haunting memories until you fell asleep.

It felt like no one could put you back together, not even yourself, but Steve was the one holding onto you during those times, and he always stayed — even now.

He tossed out the trash bags into the dumpster, placing the donated ones in the trunk of his car to deal with tomorrow. Two vintage VHS tapes sat in the corner of the trunk, something he thought maybe you both could enjoy for the rest of the day.

“I found these.” He wiggled them in the air, locking the front door shut. “I was supposed to return them yesterday, but I’ll just do it when I get back to work on Monday.”

You strided over, swapping the tapes for his drink: Coke with a splash of triple sec. Inspecting the tapes, you moped, looking up at him.

“These are both rom-coms.” You grumbled, taking them towards the living room nonetheless, him following behind you.

Steve muttered out an ‘sorry’ before falling back onto the couch.

“They’re El’s. She gave them to me to return because she didn’t want to bike all the way there. But we don’t have to watch any of them. We can just sit and talk if you want?”

You snorted, setting them down near the player just in case you both decided to watch them later. “About how pathetic I am for still letting him get to me?”

“You’re not pathetic.” He sat the glass down on the coffee table, patting the cushion beside him.

“I feel like I should be over it by now.” You retorted, tossing yourself beside him, slumping into the cushions.

“It’s not that easy especially when you were in love with him.” Steve pointed out, trying to sway you to give yourself more grace.

“I want to believe that he loved me as much as I did him, but I think that would mean I’d be lying to myself.” You admitted, shaking your head at yourself and looking down at your lap while you twiddled with your fingers.

“You don’t think he loved you?” He sought, bringing his hand towards your knee, rubbing comforting circles around it.

You shook your head, scoffing towards yourself, “I don’t even think I know what it feels like to be loved by a man in that sense. I don’t think he saw me or felt that way for me.”

“Why do you think that?”

You shrugged, thinking back to the contents of the letter, the swooping words that had been engrained into your mind like a cursed image you would forever be stuck seeing every time you closed your eyes.

“Because he never showed it, really. That letter… she said that he’d bring her flowers to the office, leave her favorite coffee on her desk with a little note, bring her an extra sandwich when she forgot her lunch…”

You rolled your eyes weakly, cursing in your mind knowing you were the one who made those sandwiches every night and packed them up for him to take, only to give it to the girl he was cheating on you with.

“It’s those little things that I never got. Those small details of the effort he never gave to me.” You pinched your fingers together, half hating that you were revisiting these feelings again and more so loathing that you were dumping it all on Steve.

He gave you a comforting look, nodding for you to go on knowing you had so much to say, and he’d stay here all night until you got it all out of your system. You bit on your lip, shaking your head as you tried to gathering what you’d been feeling.

“The worst part is, I—I feel like I gave him all the best parts of me, and I don’t think I’ll ever love like that again.” You sounded disappointed in yourself, like you had given up on your fairytale happy ending that you always wanted.

Steve’s face twisted, eyebrows pulled together, and a heavy frown playing on his lips.

“Don’t say that.” He scolded tenderly, hating that you amounted yourself to that.

“It’s true,” You laughed so sure of yourself, “I don’t think I have it in me to expect someone to love me the way I really want them to.” You threw your hands into your lap, turning to look out the window.

Steve couldn’t let you live with that thought in your head any longer. He didn’t know when you starting believing that, but he’d be damned if he let you think that your happiness was over just because one guy did you bad. If he could and if you would let him, you would realize that happily ever after was right in front of you the whole time.

Breathe in, breathe through, breathe deep, breathe out.

“What if that someone already does?” Steve clutched your hands, pulling himself closer to you, knees knocking into each other.

Your eyes snapped back to his, staring at him puzzled by the sudden sanguine of his voice, “What?”

He squeezed your hand three times, taking a deep breath as he spoke it out loud once again — this time a little clearer in his phrasing, needing to get this right.

“What if there’s someone out there who doesn’t need to be taught how to love you because they already do?”

His voice was sure of himself, accompanied by a bit of nervousness that only you could decipher as him trying not to get tongue tied.

“What are you saying?” You looked between his eyes, searching for an answer yet only seeing a reflection of yourself clouding his irises.

“That I’m in love with you.” He blurted out without a moment's hesitation.

You stared at him motionless, not knowing if he meant it in the way you thought he did. For all you knew, he could have been referring to the friendship aspect of your relationship. You wanted to be in denial once more, knowing this couldn’t be what you thought it was.

“Steve…” you whispered, hand going slack against his, clearly taken aback.

He didn’t let you let him go, covering your intertwined hands with his free one. Your pulse was practically beating in his palms, the blood rushing through your body in a surge and your heart beating with a rapid thumpthumpthump. You could feel his hands shaking, his chest rising quicker with each second that passed with him trying to gather his words.

“I’m not just saying this. I mean it with everything inside of me.” He promised you, letting his hand release yours only to grip your wrist and bring them to his beating heart.

Despite it all — the nerves and everything that should have shut his body down — his heart stayed steady, beating in sync with yours. He gulped thickly, dropping your hands back to your lap as he stood and paced the small space between your coffee table and the couch.

“I—I’ve been in love with since I could remember you walking into Family Video and running into me and helping me pickup the tapes while you apologized profusely. I’ve known that I have loved you since forever, but I…I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you because I was terrified that you wouldn’t feel the same way.”

He halted in front of you, catching his breath hoping you were able to at least understand some of the contents of his ramble, not getting lost in it.

Your shoulders rose with a deep breath you took in. “Why didn’t just—”

“I tried! And I was going to!” He exclaimed swiftly, raking a hand through his hair and tugging in frustration towards himself, because he felt as if he could have prevented this — you getting hurt.

He slowly took his seat next to you, elbows resting on his knees as he focused his sights forward not knowing if he could bear to look into your eyes as he spilled the rest of what he had been keeping inside for so long.

“But after your first date with that idiot I wanted you to tell me that there was something wrong…that you didn’t like him at all. I was gonna swoop in and say that maybe I could make it up to you and finally take you out on a date, but I didn’t because turned out you actually liked him.”

Your heart stopped, chest rising and falling so slowly you thought you could faint. But how could you when Steve was still there confessing his undying love for you?

“I didn’t want to get in between the two of you because it wouldn’t be fair, no matter how much I feel inside for you. I didn’t want to rob you of what could’ve been between you and him.” He swallowed, hanging his head low.

You wished he had stolen your heart and never let it be tainted with the hands of someone who was only going to drop it and hurt you. You wished that he didn’t wait and had been so considerate to the other party, when in reality he was holding back because of you… because he wanted you to be happy even if it wasn’t with him.

“Y-you don’t understand how hard it’s been for me to watch you be treated like a second option, while I stand there and in my head you’ve always first. I…I don’t know why I waited so long to tell you. I’m sorry.” He said hoarsely, head lifting to glance at you where you faced him still reeling from it all.

“Don’t apologize, Steve.” You sighed, shaking your head and placing a soothing hand on his shoulder.

He wiggled under your palm, grunting to himself, “No I have to, because god, maybe I could’ve saved you from that piece of shit and what he did. If I would’ve just spoken up and told you that I’m in love with you sooner, things could have been different.”

Maybe he was right, that if he would have said something after that date, things wouldn’t have gotten this far. But perhaps it was fated, the way that it hurt so much at the time and how he thought he would have to spend his whole life getting over you knowing it was going to be impossible.

Break up, break free, break through, break down.

“Things can be different now.” You murmured, jaw trembling at the notion you just let out.

He sat up calmly, beaming into your eyes. “It can?”

You nodded assuringly, taking his hand, intertwining it with yours and giving it three squeezes knowing this was going to be a long road, but you were willing to take it with him.

“You know my number by heart. You come and water my plants when I’m staying late at work, and if I’m lucky, which most times I am, you leave me dinner in the fridge.” You told him, watching as a small smile spread across his face.

Steve did things that friends didn’t always usually do. He was the one who came over and changed your locks for you to save you the stress of not knowing when your ex would show up eventually and let himself in. He was the one who spent hours watching videos on how to do it himself, going back and forth from the hardware store to get everything he needed. He didn’t even let you help, shooing you off to lie in bed and get the rest you had been missing, all the while he made sure you were going to be okay.

He knew it wasn’t going to stop him from eventually coming back, but it was enough to at least give you a warning, something that you deserved after all of it.

“You know when I’m lying and instead of trying to pry me out of it you get me to talk about how I’m feeling.”

Steve was never accusatory when it came to you. He never wanted to shine the light on something you were trying to keep hidden in order to stop him from worrying about you — he knew you had the best of intentions. But he knew he should’ve been the least of your worries. He would stare at the ceiling with you, not saying too much or reading too deep into things, as he just wanted to help you let it all out — melancholy and all.

You took a deep breath, bringing your joined hands into your lap, shaking it mildly, “Y-you care about me so much so that you pick up every call before the second ring, and you…” pausing, you smiled up at him in awe, giving into the feelings and setting yourself free.

“You love me so much that you almost thought you lost the love of your life.”

Sitting eyes wide opened, Steve only had one thing stuck in his mind — you were the love of his life, the bullet that you never were, the thing that he didn’t dodge and even if you were, he’d let you pierce through his heart knowing at least it was you that got him at the end.

“W-what?” He buzzed, swinging his head, hoping he wasn’t reading you wrong.

“I’m falling in love with you, Steve.” You professed, eyes filled with sincerity and longing.

You pursed your lips, shaking your head at yourself, going on with your words.

“I don’t know why I didn’t realize it sooner, but I feel like I’ve loved you my whole life, and when I met him… a piece of me died because I wasn’t with who I was supposed to be with. Like I wasted all my love on him when you were right in front of me all along.”

It made perfect sense that every time you tried to search for something in his eyes you only saw yourself, not just in the reflection sense, but deeper than that. Past the irises and clouds of hazel, you could tell he was always looking at you, even in a room of faces that in his eyes were blurred into nothing when you were before him.

And like you, when Steve looked in your eyes he saw himself. The way that you would always find him in a crowd before anyone else. He was the first sight you wanted in your views and the last, if anything were to happen to you. Every time you met his, it felt like coming home, a sort of familiarity that even your apartment couldn’t sum up.

Steve shook his head at you, bringing his free hand up to your cheek.

“You didn’t waste all of it… I know you’ve got some left in you.”

You laughed lightly, leaning into his touch as you hummed. “For you, I do.”

“You can love again, let me show you that you can,” He promised, his voice never breaking, a vow that he was ready to make and destined to keep.

Like clockwork, his hands squeezed your three times, and you nodded, knowing he was with you on that road and he wasn’t going to leave you stranded. You could trust him… you always could.

His forefingers held your chin, your eyes fluttering shut, feeling his breath fan against your face.

Oh no, I’m falling in love again.

Your faces slotted into each other, leaning in closer and closer until you felt his lips on yours. Plush skin, brushing against your lips, moving gently together and there you were afraid that it wasn’t going to last… that this was too good to be true.

Oh no, I’m falling in love again

You felt the rise of the elevator, the takeoff on the runaway, the anticipation that settled in before you let it take you wherever it wanted. His hands cupped your cheeks, yours wrapping around his neck, the two of you not daring to leave each other just yet.

Oh, I’m falling in love

Your hearts were beating out of your chest’s, the thumps resounding in the air through your eardrums, letting it be the only thing you could hear. There was no crashing, no turbulence coming through to you — no need to brace yourself for an impact that wasn’t coming.

“I love you,” you whispered breathlessly against him, foreheads pressed together as you both opened your eyes and stared into each other.

“I knew you could.” He beamed, pulling you back to him as you giggled into another kiss that would be many of a lifetime.

You thought the plane was going down, but somehow Steve turned it right around — this time the love would last… just like that.

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: this somehow turned into a 6k fic when it was supposed to be a small little blurb...oopsies!!! anyways, i hope you guys like this one -- i feel myself slowly coming out of my writers slump and it's been really nice and refreshing to get to write again without the pressure on my shoulders. labyrinth is also becoming one of my favorites off midnights, i just adore it so much and while it's not so lyric heavy, the production ties it all together. let me know what you guys think and isn't stevie a cutie patootie??!

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @the-alchemys @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3

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lasciviouspoison · 7 months

Text

omg! my boyfriend is a big sexy boxer!

oh em gee, happy kinktobaaaaaa!!!!!! lmfao, here’s a small gift from me :)

i got kinda carried away with this plot line, lol. tw: tojixchubby!reader, boxer!toji, implied black/poc!reader, implied age gap (reader in early 20s, toji late 20s/early 30s), afab reader, oral sex (f receiving), pussydrunk!toji, cockdrunk!reader, hints of self insert (sorry :/ ) and anything else i might’ve forgotten! love ya, mwah!

~~~

toji fushiguro was one of the best heavyweight boxers of the current day. he was agile, extremely strong, and never lacked in stamina. he was a staggering 6’3 and was over 250 pounds of pure muscle. littered in tattoos from head to toe, toji was a force to be reckoned with.

not to mention, he was hot as fuck. almost every hour on the hour, there was someone on the internet raving about how sexy he was. he had literally gotten invited to read dirty tweets not once, but twice because of the general influx of them.

however, no one other than those closest to toji knew about you.

you, the pretty journalist who he had seen at his first press release for the upcoming fight. he was taken aback by your casualness. while the majority your peers wore ugly suits and skirts, you were simply dressed in baggy jeans and a t-shirt. your curly hair was down, slightly touching your shoulder blades and he could see the tattoos you had up your arm and neck.

toji’s mouth watered at the sight of you. he couldn’t wait for the moment in which you raised your hand to ask him a question out of those pretty pouty lips.

after the release, he made it a point to ask his manager, shiu, to call you into the back for an “exclusive interview” with the most successful fighter on the block.

and by interview, i mean toji asked you for your number and you, albeit anxiously, agreed.

and four months later, he’s been stuck to you like glue. he’s taken you on so many dates, he always pops in to see you whenever he has the time after training, and he just recently popped the question, asking you to officially be his partner.

however, toji also does the best he can to not prematurely intertwine his life with yours.

you were still a college student, finally making your way to the end of your junior year. your life was slow and steady, yet exciting. you had a few great friends who supported you through everything, yet, they still knew nothing about your little rendezvous with toji.

meanwhile, everything was about to change at toji’s most recent weigh-in. after his opponent and himself stepped on the scale, the promoters decided it would be a good idea to bring the two back out and open the floor for questions.

of course you were in the crowd, not only to support your man, which felt amazing to finally say, but to watch and learn from your mentor. however, to everyone’s surprise, toji’s opponent had an announcement to make before the questions began.

he stood up and gave the crowd and smile before pointing directly at you, “everyone see that beautiful lady right there? i’m gonna beat the shit outta this man over here and take her home with me afterwards. ya like the sound of that sweetheart?”

toji’s eyes immediately found yours and once he seen them begin to gloss over, he couldn’t help but find himself running out of his chair, attempting to prematurely pummel his opponent. while both security teams tried to hold him back, you were being escorted out of the area and into the back rooms.

shortly after, your face was all over media outlets as they attempted to figure out who you were and your association to toji.

which brings us to now.

“baby please, talk to me. m’beggin here”. toji’s been standing outside of his master bathroom for a total of 20 minutes attempting to get you to at least calm down. you had been crying since the weigh-in, refusing to see him. the only reason you were here was because shiu redirected your driver back to toji’s home without your knowledge.

“go away! go get ready for your fight and leave me alone!” you could admit you sounded childish, but you didn’t care. it was one thing to be publicly embarrassed like that, but to now have the whole world know that you were somehow connected to toji was awful. you wanted to do that on your own terms, especially since the two of you are just barely reaching the “official” stage in your relationship.

toji grabbed the locked door knob and twisted, “yn please just come out and talk to me. lemme help you, baby, please.” while toji prided himself on never begging for anything, you were an exception to the rule.

suddenly the door swung open and he was met with your puffy red eyes and lips. despite knowing the weight of the situation, he couldn’t help but feel his dick twitch upon seeing how beautiful you looked after crying. he’d be sure to tell you that later.

“there’s nothing you can do. everyone’s gonna figure out i’m your girlfriend and my life is gonna be turned upside down”. you could feel your throat begin to constrict once again. all you wanted was to crawl into a hole and never come back up.

toji stroked your hair and brought you to his chest, “i can’t make that go away baby, and i’m sorry. but what i can do is try to make this as seamless as possible for you. things don’t have to change overnight, we can still go slow”.

he could feel you shake your head, “it’s not gonna work like that toji, you and i both know that. my fucking mom has already called me to ask about us and i don’t know what to tell her.”

toji cocked his head to the side and scrunched his brows, “tell her we’re together?”

you pushed him back and little and laughed, “oh my god toji, are you fucking dense? you’re missing the point.”

he wanted to kick himself for being so careless. obviously toji knew that the situation ran deeper than the two of you simply dating. but, he at least figured that you wouldn’t be scared to tell your mom.

alas, he was wrong.

toji took a deep breath, “don’t cuss at me when i haven’t cussed at you. i’m trying to help and you’re throwing a tantrum. the situation isn’t fair to either of us yn, and we both know it.”

you gave him one more good look before you took a step back into the bathroom and slammed the door in his face.

~~~

the fight was in 20 minutes and toji’s heart was pounding. his adrenaline was rushing throughout his body and all he could think of was your crying face and what that ugly fucker said to you earlier.

in every sense of the word, he was pissed.

he had left you back in the hands of your mentor, granting the two of you front row seats. although you could feel everyone’s eyes staring at the back of your head, you held your composure.

you could feel your mentor squeeze your hand, “i know it’s not my place, but don’t beat yourself up over what happened earlier yn, especially if you’re happy. if the two of you are together, just leave it at that. you don’t have to explain yourself to anyone, i promise.”

you reached over and gave her a hug, letting yourself finally feel the embrace of someone who cared about you. however, the sweet moment was interrupted when the announcer came out to introduce toji’s opponent.

you felt like a fish being gutted while watching him walk down the isle. his entourage behind him, making him look even weaker than he was. and the most disgusting part was him catching your eye after bouncing around the stage and winking.

toji swore he was gonna kill him. he was gonna rip his gloves off with his teeth and jam his thumbs into his eyes. taunting him was different, it was part of the sport. but making a show out of his lady was something that toji was gonna lay his ass out for.

everyone watched as the announcer made his way back into the middle of the ring and grabbed the microphone to speak once more, “ladies and gentleman! please give it up for your reigning heavyweight champion, toji fushiguro!”

the screams from the crowd jolted your body awake, firing your adrenaline on all cylinders. it was at this moment when you realized you were dating toji-fucking -fushiguro and you weren’t gonna let his scum of an opponent make you feel any less because of it.

when toji got to the ring, he removed his robe and only glared at his opponent. it was scarier than seeing him move around with the crowd because to the three of you, this was way more than a fight.

you don’t know what caused you to do it, but you walked up to the ring and called out his name. he started to squat down to speak to you, but instead watched you climbed inside to stand before him. he could see that you had your hands bawled up beside your hips and he laughed a little.

you looked at his opponent and back at him. finally, you slung your arm around him and pulled him in to where only he could hear you, “put his ass to sleep for me toji” and with a kiss to his cheek, you made your descent out of the ring.

suddenly toji was ablaze. in an instant, he transformed from his regular, stern self to the fighter, entertainer, and winner. everyone that could see him on the Jumbotron and television could see that whatever you had said to him was gonna determine the fate of this match.

~~~

2 rounds, 4 minutes and 29 seconds was all it took for toji to lay his opponent out flat. he didn’t need confirmation from the referee before he spit out his mouth guard and roared at the crowd. he could see you standing there in awe at him and it was the cutest thing he had ever seen.

eventually, toji was allowed to say his peace before existing the ring and of course, the world waited at the edge of their seats for the update on what was seen earlier.

toji couldn’t even think straight when it came time for him to talk. the only thing on his mind was you. ynynynyn was all that kept replaying in his mind before he said this, “i want the entire fucking world to know that she’s my girl. she’s been mine since i first seen her and i wouldn’t want it any other way. baby, i love you.”

by this point, you were backstage with his team watching his commentary on a flatscreen. all you wanted to do was wrap your arms around him, but that would have to wait a little longer.

finally, toji walked into the back room, fully changed out of his fighting clothes, and all but stalked his way to you. he embraced you so tightly, you felt like he could snap you in half.

you pulled away from him and and pecked his cheek, “you love me toji?”.

he shook his head, “since the day i met you.”

and while tears were beginning to well in your eyes, toji was throwing you over his shoulder and heading towards his car. with the shouts of his team behind him, the only thing on his mind was getting you home and fucking you till you cried.

he sped home in dangerous silence, alternating from his hand gently squeezing your thigh to slightly rubbing this thumb up as high as you’d allow.

he didn’t even bother to park correctly before he flung his door open. toji sprinted to your side and lifted you out. you could hear his heavy breathing as he traveled through his penthouse lobby and into the elevator.

he body caged you in and his breath fanned your nose. “don’t mean to be rough. hope i’m not scarin ya” he chuckled out.

“no baby. you’re not scaring me at all.” he was, in fact, doing the opposite. you were so turned on, you hoped it wasn’t leaking through your jeans.

toji gripped your face and kissed you roughly. it was much different from the small kisses you shared, but neither of you cared. before separating for air, he pulled your bottom lip between his teeth and pulled, groaning at the sight of how innocent you looked.

after the long awaited ding of the elevator, toji grabbed your arm and pulled you towards his door.

he slung you inside and tossed you over his shoulder, once again, as he led you to the bedroom.

he gently set you down on the bed and removed his black hoodie, exposing his tattooed body. you could still see how hard he was breathing and touched his stomach to try and call him down. yet even from that innocent little touch, he was all the more hard at the sight of you.

he wordlessly took off your shoes and stood up to kiss you again. you could feel him unbuckle your jeans and your hands made their way to his pants. he moved one hand to yours and removed them from his sweats, causing you to pull back from his mouth.

the confusion lacing your face was so cute, but he needed to take his time with you. “this ain’t about me sweet girl, g’nna take my time with you and this pretty body. ‘kay?”

without giving you a chance to respond, he finally pulled your pants off in one go, and kneeled between your legs. he brought his knuckle up to your pretty pink panties and nudged at the wet spot. he licked his lips slightly and kissed your thigh.

“gonna let me eat this pretty pussy baby, yeah? wanna feel my tongue don’cha?” he was softly moving your panties to the side and groaned at the sight. your fat pussy was so pretty. cunt so puffy and wet for him, he had to get a taste.

“please toji, just touch me” you whined and toji didn’t need to hear anything else. he pulled your panties fully off and lapped at your clit like a kitten while his fingers made way to your entrance. he pushed his fingers in and you all but screamed, one hand gripping his hair while the other interlocked with his.

toji could die in your cunt and not complain. this was his own personal heaven and he swore to kill the next person who even tried to look at you funny. “yer pussy’s so sweet baby. could eat it all night if ya let me.”

he latched back onto your clit and sucked hard. his middle finger was hitting that spot you could never reach yourself and you felt euphoric. your thick thighs twitched on either side of his head, but toji didn’t care. his only focus was getting you to cum on his tongue.

he could hear your whimpers get louder and your cunt clench against his finger. he knew you were close and didn’t wanna waste anymore time.

“cum for me sweet girl. wanna taste it mama please.”

and you came, hard. your eyes rolled into the back of your head and you were gripping the covers so tightly you swore you’d put holes into it. toji was desperately trying to keep your legs open so he could continue to ravage your cunt, but he eventually opted to rubbing your precious clit while looking at your face.

he loved the sight of you coming down from your high. you looked exactly how you did after you finished crying and toji could feel his dick get impossibly harder in his pants.

he swiped his thumb over your bottom lip causing your tongue to jut out and lick. you tilted your head up a bit and sucked his thumb into your mouth, being sure to release it with a pop.

“want you to fuck me toji. please fuck me. wanna feel it in me”, you all but whined out.

he looked at you starry eyed and placed his hand on your tummy. “you wanna feel me right here baby? want me deep in your little cunny, ain’t that right” he smiled and slapped your ass.

before you could respond, toji reached for your shirt and lifted it above your head. he watched you unclasp your bra and toss it across the room. it was the first time toji had seen your beautiful, chubby body and he couldn’t be more ecstatic. you were so beautiful and he was so happy he could publically call you his.

he slipped his sweats and boxers down in one go. he reached towards his nightstand and pulled out a condom. after ripping it open with his teeth, he rolled it on and positioned himself toward your entrance.

you backed away a bit and he gripped your leg, “don’t run from me. lemme have it”.

you shook your head slightly and looked up at him wide eyed, “s’not gonna fit”.

he laughed a little and leaned down toward your neck, “i’ll make it fit, pretty”. and began to push the tip in.

he was big like you expected, but he did a considerable amount of prep to make this pleasurable for you and him.

he could feel you claw at his back and his teeth grit together. he wanted to push all the way in and fuck you stupid, but he knew he needed to go slow. it was your first time with him and he wanted to make it as special as it could be.

after fully sheathing himself in your cunt, he let out a quick “fuck” before looking into your eyes.

those beautiful e/c eyes he loved looking into so much. so teary and full of pleasure, “want me to move?”

you let out a small yes and toji rocked his hips slightly. he gripped onto the headboard above your head and sped up a little, not wanting to overwhelm you.

eventually, those small, soft strokes weren’t doing enough for you, causing you to get restless. you pushed your hips towards him and whined, “fuck me harder toji!” and that was all it took for him to fuck you like a mad man.

his hand left the headboard and pushed your thighs wider. the weight of toji on your body mixed with his heavy thrusts almost knocked the wind out of you. you were moaning and whimpering and toji loved the sight.

at some point, toji grabbed your leg and angled your anklet clad foot towards his head. he kissed your ankle before smiling down at you, which caused your pussy to gush around his cock.

he could feel your cunt start to pulsate again, all the while toji was reaching his limit too. he wanted you to cum with him, even if he had to withhold his orgasm a bit longer.

he started thumbing your clit while his body pushed your lifted leg further back, allowing him to hit a new spot within your gummy walls. you could feel the slight curve in his dick and it was driving you insane.

you looked up at him and he began to speak. “want you to cum with me baby. can you do that f’r me?”

you shook your head yes embarrassingly fast and toji rubbed your pussy just a tad bit faster.

you moaned and grabbed toji’s shoulders, “‘m gonna cum toji. i’m gonna cum. oh my god ‘m cummin- oh!” toji felt your release on his abdomen and with a loud groan, he released shortly after you.

he let you grind on his cock while you rode out your shared orgasm. he felt like he had died and went to heaven because of your pussy, and slowly but surely, he came down to witness you still twitching and shaking.

he rubbed your face gently and spoke softly, “c’mon baby. come back to me” he repeated his words until you finally let out a deep breath and weakly smiled.

he pulled out of you with a hiss and tied off the condom before disposing of it. he lifted you out of the bed and brought you to the bathroom before running you a nice warm bath. he filled the tub with bubbles and set you in gently before going to clean up the mess you two had made.

once toji came back, he washed you, lotioned you up and dressed you in a big shirt of his and boxers.

as he finally laid you down to sleep, you felt him kiss your forehead. while you knew things would never go back to the way they were, it didn’t matter because now the world knew that toji was, and always will be, yours.

#toji x black y/n #daddy toji #toji x y/n #toji fushiguro #toji x chubby reader #toji x black reader #toji smut #help! my pussy’s gone crazy!!!!

525 notes · View notes

mae-gi-writes · 14 days

Text

Arch-nemesis . Gally (themazerunner)

There's a thin line between love and hate, especially when it concerns Gally.

A/N: I've re-watched the three Maze Runner movies and now I'm obsessed and getting back onto the TMR fantrain so bear with me and the future fics I've already got saved in my drafts TT 3 TT ------

You hate him with all your heart.

Truthfully, honestly. There isn’t anyone you hate more than this stupid asshole that thinks that he’s the centre of the earth.

You met him only when he’d been brought in by Lawrence and a few of his other guys, having been there just for a few weeks prior. Thinking that this might be your chance to make a new friend, you’d sidled over to him with a small smile as you asked for his name. That didn’t go as smoothly as you thought when he just grunted out his name in response and turned away from you like you were a pest instead.

But it isn’t just that. It’s the way he says your name in that really aggravating tone that grates at your nerves. It’s the way he always insists it’s your fault when you’re out on missions and come back with no updates. It’s the way he bullies you and calls you names whenever your paths cross and it makes you want to gouge his eyes out. It’s enough to say that you know Gally now and you know exactly what he’s made of. That, and the fact that you’d stay far away from him as you possibly could if that was an option.

“You’re loading it up wrong shank-face,” he’d tell you as you were re-filling your gun.

“Shut up Gally, I’m doing it properly.”

“Don’t come crying to me when the gun doesn’t work.”

“It’s none of your business if it doesn’t work.”

“It is my business if you’re gonna—“

“Right that’s enough,” your mentor and leader called Jared had to step in, like he did numerous times, to get you to cool off. You’d storm away in a fit of annoyance and irritation, hating how easily Gally got under your skin.

It’s been a few weeks since weird sightings of stray immunes have circulated the area and in reply to this, Lawrence had set you up for a mission with Gally to scout the outer walls of the Last City. That had only caused you to grumble about the unfairness of the situation.

“Why do I have to go?” Your eyes narrow at the familiar tall figure lingering in your peripheral. Gally is busy setting up his weapons as you try to plead your case, seemingly uncaring about your protests, “and with him of all people? We don’t work well together Lawrence—“

“Everyone else is taken or busy with other tasks. Meaning that only you two are free,” Lawrence cuts you off without a hint of sympathy, “so either you do as you’re told or you can leave Y/N. As simple as that.”

In the end you have no choice but to abide by his rules, strapping up your weapons and defenses before Gally calls out your name. You turn just in time to catch the water bottle he sends your way, yelping in the process.

“You’re looking a little distraught, shank-face,” he smirks at you from where he stands loading up the provisions, “scared of what you’ll find out there? If you ain’t good enough, just don’t come and waste people’s time.”

“Nobody asked for your opinion, ugly brows.”

“I’m just worried you might slow me down. I’m not a goddamn babysitter.”

“I didn’t ask for one, now will you shut up and stop talking?”

“I’m surprised these two haven’t killed each other off yet,” murmurs one of Lawrence’s men.

“Killed or kissed you mean,” Jared lets out a chuckle.

These words are enough to cause the others to look at him with shocked faces, “what do you mean?”

“Isn’t it clear?” Jared motions towards the two currently bickering, “bet that by tomorrow night these two will get together.”

“I bet they last a week before they kiss.” Another says.

“Oh come on, I’m betting two weeks. Gally isn’t that type of guy.”

“What about me?” Gally’s voice causes them all to shut up, looking at him with guilty smiles and with shakes of their heads.

“Nothing to worry about Maze boy,” Jared flicks him off with a wave of his hand, “now off you go, both of you. And I expect some good news when you return.”

“Of any kind,” someone adds quietly, to which they all cackle.

You’ve toured the city a million times before in search of any kind of entrances that might lead to the inside, where all of Wicked laid. So it’s nothing out of your depth to follow Gally around as you survey the area and scout for more sources of information.

In all honesty, touring with Gally isn’t that much different from anyone else. On the contrary, Gally’s determined nature conjoined with his natural physical ability to excel just renders him an even more ideal battle partner. Not that you’ll ever tell him that. It will surely come bite you in the ass later when you least expect it.

You’re almost at the perimeter when you notice something off about one of the citizens. It’s a little girl, her face contorted in a grimace as she holds her hands in front of her tummy. For a moment, she sways in the middle of the crowd and you’re about to dismiss it, when another figure stalks in and takes a swipe at her with a stick.

The girl yelps as the stick hits her knees, crumbling to the floor like a sack of bones.

Before you know it, you’re sprinting towards her, anger flaring through your chest as your hands steady themselves on the gun. You barely hear Gally’s voice as you stumble in front of the kid just in time to point your weapon at the older man.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You hiss at him.

The man’s eyes widen. He takes a step back, “no no, get away from her, you don’t understand—“

“Understand what? That you were going to beat her to death?” You click your gun into place, “nice try old man, now tell me—“

“Get away from her!” He yells at you, “she’s not normal! She’s—“

And a growl erupts from behind you. You swivel around in panic, eyes going wide upon noticing for the first time the dark patch close to her eyes.

The Flare.

The girl twitches. A small sob falls from her mouth. Your heart jumps to your throat, stumbling back half a step as weird animalistic noises echo from her mouth.

And then, she pounces.

You yell out something— you’re not too sure what — and are about to knock her on the head as she throws herself at you—

A bullet explodes on the right side of her brain and she falls to the ground like a puppet.

You stare at her for a minute. One more.

Your gaze slowly trails up to see familiar booted feet.

“What were you even thinking?”

Gally’s voice is usually deep. But this time, even you can’t stand up to the anger simmering in his voice. It’s dark and holds some kind of laced savagery that makes your toes curl in apprehension.

He takes your silence as guilt before grabbing onto your arm and roughly pulling you out of the crowd. He doesn’t stop and for once you don’t fight him, still not over the shock of seeing that poor girl’s face, the crazed look in her eyes. You’re so deep in your thoughts that you don’t realize you’re at your truck until Gally practically throws you against its side.

Your back digs into the metal and you grunt at the impact, the ache stinging your spine. But before you can do anything else, huge palms come to a rest on either side of your head.

Gally leans into you, so close that you can feel the heat radiate off him in waves.

“What the fuck was that about?” He growls, voice dropping even lower.

Somehow, it causes a shiver to run up your spine. Not one of fear, something else. Something that makes your stomach squeeze into knots.

“I—“ for once, you don’t seem to have any words. Instead your head turns away from Gally’s eyes as you bite down onto your lower lip, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? You’re sorry?” He scoffs, laughs to himself before his gaze hardens once more, “sorry for what Y/N? For almost getting yourself killed? Are you insane?! She could’ve literally infected you and you—“

“I didn’t know she was infected.” You tried to protest.

That seems to aggravate him even more, “You didn’t even bother to check!” His nostrils flare.

“Well I said I’m sorry!”

“Sorry’s not going to cut it if you turn into one of those Cranks you stupid slinthead! You need to be more responsible! I literally turn away for one minute and you’re—“

“Oh stop exaggerating Gally. I was trying to protect her—“

“Yeah and look how that ended!”

You snap, “why are you so pissed? It was an accident and I already said sorry!”

“It’s not just that Y/N!” He yells with such emotion that his face flushes red, “What if I wasn’t there? What would you have done then?!”

“Why the fuck do you care? You wanted me gone—“

Your words cut off in mid-conversation when his large hands suddenly cup your face before pulling you in to crash his lips against yours.

Your eyes widen, brain freezing, as butterflies erupt through your stomach.

Wow.

Is this what a kiss is?

And this is Gally, kissing you like he means it.

It's almost like time has stopped.

Heart pounding, your body slowly melts against his. You’re in a trance-like state, watching yourself crumble under his fingertips that he places right under your jaw, his other hand sliding down to your hip to pin you in place.

The kiss is surprisingly gentle yet firm. His mouth moves slowly, hesitantly, almost like he fears breaking you. And yet, when you respond with a soft movement of your own, the rumble of his chest has your stomach squeezing with adrenaline.

You’re not too sure what’s happening. Here you are, with the world’s biggest dick, kissing him like he’s your lover when all you’ve ever wanted was to kick him in the face for being a class A asshole.

But it’s weird because this, however, feels so right. Like you’re meant to be locking lips, like he doesn’t want anyone else in his arms but you. And when he cages you in his hold with even more intensity it makes you gasp, causing him to slip his tongue into your mouth with an ease that has you parting like melted butter.

Slowly, your hands trail up to his chest, grabbing hold of his dark tunic and tugging slightly as his teeth suckle onto your bottom lip. A noise echoes from the back of your throat and he growls in response, pressing you even harder so that your head tilts back against the truck’s surface.

You need air at some point and so break away from him with a small gasp, chest heaving.

Gally doesn’t hesitate. He dives down to press a kiss to the side of your jaw, down your neck, imprinting his mouth over your skin over and over again in a way that has your body shuddering with delight. Big hand sliding down to the back of your neck to pull you even closer into him, the young man’s lips find a soft spot at your pulse point, causing a whine to fall from your lips at his action.

His chest rumbles in satisfaction and before you know it he’s back to kissing you. This time it’s more heated; mouths clashing and teeth clicking and tongues battling.

And then, the reality of the situation hits you straight in the face.

You freeze. What in the shucking world are you even doing?

You’re making out with Gally, right beside your truck. In broad daylight.

The thought alone makes your hands push him away and your lips disconnect with a small ‘pop’ sound.

You’re gasping for breath at this point, eyes wide as they flutter up to lock onto his own and you’re surprised at what you find there.

There’s some sort of softness, genuine care and something more, something darker that you can’t really put your finger on.

It makes you want him.

You want him.

Shuck’s sake.

“Y/N—“ Gally starts but you’re already moving out of his hold, slipping away from his warmth and suddenly it feels a little too cold.

You shake your head at him, decide it’s best to keep your eyes away as you open the door to the passenger seat, “let’s go. We have a mission to finish.”

You don’t want to talk about it.

————

It’s been days.

Days since the incident.

Days since you’ve been trying to get Gally out of your head.

You don’t understand why he’s having such an effect on you. Theoretically speaking, you should’ve bashed his head in and turned him over to Lawrence for sexual assault.

But you haven’t, and he’s also probably questioning why.

As a result, you’ve done everything in your power to avoid him. You wake up thirty minutes earlier to eat your breakfast so that you don’t have to bump into him at the table, you take the first errands that come to you — the boring ones like refilling tanks and getting the food supplies and guarding their premises. All that so that you don’t have to deal with Gally’s bullying.

Well, not that you’ve heard from him much either.

“What happened between you two?” Jared asks one evening as you help him move the supplies fresh from the last raid from the Last City.

“What?” You stare at him blankly, “what are you talking about?”

“You and Gally. You had a fight or something?”

“When are we not?” You snort, though you can’t deny the flush creeping up your neck as the memory of Gally’s body against yours resurfaces.

“Well I know you fight, but you’ve been ignoring each other.”

“And? Why is that a concern? Shouldn’t you be glad there’s less noise?”

“You’ve got a point I suppose.”

You don’t tell him it’s because you’re nervous of all the things that keep flashing through your head. You don’t tell him about how you keep on thinking of Gally’s mouth on yours, the lingering taste of him like a ghost along your lips. You don’t have to and you don’t want to, because you know that it’s going to entertain an idea far too surreal and ridiculous for you to think about.

It isn’t until a few days after your little mishap that Gally finds you in the storage room. You’ve woken up early to help the newest recruit unpack the food supplies just loaded into the main building dock, only to find out that he had this massive crush on you.

So you’ve been trying to bat him off all morning despite his most desperate attempts.

“Just give me a chance Y/N,” he says as he takes a box from your hands with a wink, “I promise I won’t make you regret it.”

You snort, “no thanks,” and turn back to keep unloading.

But he makes a grab for your hand. You yelp, pulling it out of his grasp, “what do you think you’re doing—“

“You think you’re so tough huh?” He makes another grab for your forearm this time and cages you into his grip. You try to wriggle out to no avail, his fingers squeezing so hard that you let out a cry of pain, “ow—“let me go, asshole.”

“Not until you agree.”

Your glare deepens, “I said no.”

He pulls you closer, stinky breath washing over your face and making you want to barf, “did I tell you how sexy you are when you try to act all tough and shit? I mean that’s literally—“

“Get your hands off her.”

He freezes. You do too. You recognize that voice. You could've recognized that anywhere. Your head tilts over.

Gally.

Oh.

Eyes widening at the sight, you quickly pull your arm away when the newbie drops it in shock.

“Move away,” Gally’s voice drops an octave and causes a string of butterflies to erupt through your chest, “now.”

The newbie frowns, “Who’re you to boss me around?”

“I said: Now.”

And maybe it’s the fact that Gally seems to straighten when he says it so it looks like he’s towering over the other boy, but the latter mutters a curse word under his breath and finally relents, throwing you a scowl in the process as he ducks out of the storage room.

You can’t help but lock eyes with your savior, though quickly averting your eyes in embarrassment as you resume stacking boxes after boxes. You hope that he’s just going to turn around and act ignorant, just like these past few days.

“Y/N.”

You don’t answer, resolutely trying your best to act busy.

“Y/N.”

Maybe it’s the way he says your name that makes you turn impulsively. Your eyes flit to his face, then look back down to his chest. A safer bet, “what?”

He takes a step closer, and another, and another. You swallow thickly, feeling your throat clog up with emotion as you stumble back against the boxes until no escape seems available.

Why is it that you’re always getting trapped by him?

“W—What is it?” You stammer out in hopes he can’t hear how wild your heart is beating, "What do you want?"

He lets out a soft sigh and seems to drop his shoulders in defeat, opening up his palms in a sign of defeat, "I just--I think we need to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Y/N--"

"No Gally," you whip around then with eyes narrowed into slits and your fists curled beside you, "if this is about what happened in the Last City, I don't want to talk about it. It was a stupid shucking mistake and--"

"Stop using Glader slang," he interrupts like a smart-ass and you all but growl at him in irritation, "it doesn't suit you."

"Oh shut up already," you whip around and decide that it's useless to try and have a civil conversation. You'd rather focus your energy on finishing off your task.

But seems that he's determined to bug you, for you feel the warmth of his hand imprint itself on your forearm before he's tugging you. Not too harshly, gently enough that you could've stopped if you wanted to.

You let yourself turn around, cursing inwardly at how the closeness between your two bodies is rendering you a little breathless, a little weak in the knees. He's so close that you have to tilt your head up to look at him, and what you see in his gaze makes your heart skitter.

"It wasn't," he murmurs, "a mistake."

"It was a mistake," you shoot back straightaway, "we can just forget about it--"

"I don't want to. I--" he clears his throat, looks away for a second. And when his eyes find yours once again you feel your breath catch in your throat because he's looking at you in a certain way. That way. With the same kind of tenderness that makes you want to wrap your arms around him and bury your face into his chest and smell the earthly, Gally scent that had wrapped around you back when you'd kissed--

No.

You almost smack yourself, horrified. What in the world are you thinking?!

"I like you, Y/N." Gally’s voice jerks you back to reality, “I like you a shuck lot and—“

“Don’t,” you press a finger to his lips as you try desperately to put some distance between, shaking your head in horror, “no no, you don’t like me. You like me ‘cause I’m the only girl around here and it’s just your hormones talking—“

He shakes you off, “what are you on about?” He frowns before grabbing both your hands to cage them in his grip, “I know what I feel Y/N. Don’t tell me otherwise—“

“Gally please,” you scramble for coherent thought but logic is slipping away by the second. Even more so when he’s tugging you gently to him, even more when his face is a picture of softness and affection, “we hate each other’s guts—“

“I never said that.” He pauses to read your expression, fear suddenly flickering in his expression, “do you hate me?”

“I—“ the words get tangled in your mouth. You want to tell him you hate him, loathe him with all your heart and that you just want him gone and that you hates his kiss.

But you can’t.

Because it’s a lie, the truth is that you think your heart beats for him. You’re not sure since when, but that kiss had confirmed it surely enough: you like Gally more than you think you do. And that thought is terrifying.

You’re so close to him that if you let your hands drop they’ll brush against his chest, so close that you can feel his warm breath fanning across your skin and the heat of his jody permeating to yours.

Ducking your head in embarrassment, you bite down onto your lower lip.

“Answer my question, Y/N.”

You swallow thickly, “I—I don’t know.”

Gally looks down at you still, not giving you the easy way out you would’ve preferred and you find yourself crumbling under his stare.

“No,” you whisper, “I don’t hate you.”

He shifts a little closer still, eyes flitting down to your lips in a silent question.

Your breath catches. Your mouth parts. His scent wraps around you like a soft cocoon.

And then you’re lifting yourself up to kiss him.

He makes a noise of surprise at the back of his throat and you grin to yourself, loving that you caught him off guard. But that doesn’t last, for his big hands quickly drop yours to wrap around your waist before pulling your body to his and kissing you like he hasn’t seen you in ages, like he’s missed you, like he wants to do this forever.

Gally, you soon realize, kisses with his entire intention, not leaving one part of your mouth untouched and adamant on making you go pliant in his hold. You allow yourself to back up as he prods you, until your back hits one of the storage boxes hazardly stacked one atop the other, and Gally doesn't hesitate to press his chest against yours as a soft moan echoes from the back of his throat.

As his lips curve against yours in the most intimate of manners, your hands seem to take on a life of their own as they travel up his chest, caress the broadness of his shoulders, before wrapping around the back of his neck and teasing the soft baby hairs found there. You feel him grinning into your mouth and soon enough you're grinning too, foreheads pressed together as you catch your breath.

"Not bad at all," Gally murmurs, stealing a kiss from you and causing your face to flush deep red, "for someone who can't load a gun properly."

"I can too load my gun properly," you pinch him playfully and he responds with laughter.

That's when you hear your mentor's voice booming with surprise from the front entrance of the storage room:

"Well look what we have here! I told you guys they wouldn't last a week!"

158 notes · View notes

riverbutghost · 4 months

Text

Drunk In Love

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!Reader

Trope: ❛ people get hurt if they get too close to me. ❜

Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluffy in the end, getting shot, military stuff etc.

since non of ya’ll send requests, I did a request for myself💃🕺💃🕺💃🕺💃🕺💃🕺💃

You were scared. Your heart was beating so hard that you could hear the sound of it.

“Sir, I need to speak with you.”

Your voice cracked at the end, making Ghost spin around in his chair. His eyes looked tired and distant, his desk was full of papers.

“Is it urgent? I’m kinda busy right now,”

There was a lump forming in your throat. Since that day, he didn’t speak to you for even a second. He was cold, distant. You saw him from a far only.

One time, you were back on your feet and wanted to match with him on your first practice after… yeah.

And he said you were weak, you looked weak and he chose another rookie to train with.

You remembered feeling so exhausted after the training, your head swaying and your ribs aching after getting an accidental punch to your side. Gaz apologized profusely, but you didn’t mind it.

Ghost was the one who minded it, though.

He gave Gaz a hard punishment, he made you go to the nurse and never train again for two weeks. You cried a little that day, you felt like a garbage after all. Like a toddler who was always in trouble.

“Uhm,”

He sighed and turned around, leaving you all hurt and confused again.

“I don’t have time for this.”

You sucked your bottom lip, feeling every ounce of pain from his words.

You got out, your mood souring immediately.

“Ghost, let them look.”

Price’ voice was gentle, like he was trying not to scare the animal.

His whole body trembled as the doctors forcefully took you out of his arms, your body weak and eyes shut as they hurriedly took care of your wounds.

He couldn’t help the twitch of his hands, his mind wandering off to things that made him choke on his spit.

He still got nauseous from that day. You were bleeding in his arms, your bright and shiny eyes were closed and your heartbeat was slow.

He gripped the pen tightly, his breathing slowly getting worse.

“fuck..”

He mumbled and got up, taking his mask off and locking the door.

He started breathing in and out, the tightness in his lungs started fading away.

“Hey lass, why you lookin’ like that?”

Soap pointed to his face as he sat down next to you.

“Your fuckin’ lieutenant is giving me a massive headache!”

Soap looked as shocked as you were at your outburst.

“Uhmm, well Gaz is calling for me,”

He got up and sprinted out of the room, making you feel a lot worse than before. Nobody wanted you. You were going to ugly cry.

You didn’t want to cry but it was hard to hold the tears.

“Sergeant, in my room. Now.”

As tears gathered in your eyes, you heard your stone faced lieutenant’s voice. No, you wanted to say. But he was your superior.

You shakily got up and turned around. He didn’t even wait for you.

With quick and steady steps, you knocked on his door.

“Come in.”

Without making eye contact, you sat down on the chair.

“Yes sir?”

Simon inspected you, the redness of your eyes and the puffiness of your mouth.

“You cried.”

A shocking wave swept through your body, a gasp left your mouth.

“No-“

“Don’t lie to me, soldier. Why did you cry? Who, made you cry?”

You wanted to laugh, the audacity of this man.

“You did.”

Simon’s face hardened with the way you looked at him, so sharp and beautiful.

“Did my words hurt you?”

Your gaze fell to your lap. Simon felt his chest tighten as he saw a tear forming on your eye.

“I apologize. You have to understand that I am your lieutenant, you can’t get hurt by my words.”

You shook your head.

“You changed, Simon.”

Simon clenched his jaw, a weird feeling crushed down on his chest.

He whispered your name.

“I don’t want this.”

He shook his head, a panicked breath leaving his mouth.

“Whatever you’re thinking will never happen. You and I both know that, love.”

You licked your lips and his attention was drawn on you.

“No, all i know is that I want you.”

Simon sighed, suddenly feeling too hot under the mask.

“I don’t.”

A sharp pain formed in your belly, feeling like a fool all of a sudden.

“Tell me, Simon. Spit it on my face, do you want me? If you don’t, I’ll never speak to you other than business. I promise.”

Simon thought for a moment. Did he really want you gone? No, he needed you to be healthy after that day. But he could still look at you from far away, he wanted that right?

“People get hurt if they get too close to me.”

Your face softened, realizing that this was hard for him. When you opened your mouth to soothe him he cut you off.

“Fuck it, I do want you. In my arms, bed, everywhere.”

Relief washed over you. Simon suddenly stood up, taking his mask off. You saw his face before but this time, it felt more intimate.

You got up as well, taking slow steps towards him.

“Kiss me, then.”

Simon’s throat bobbled as he swallowed his nerves. His hands shot out to hold your body against his as he pressed his scarred lips against yours, feeling the soft warmth of them.

He still wasn’t sure of whatever you two were beginning to do, but he realized that he was too old and life was too short. He kissed you deeply, like a hungry wolf, memorizing the way your lips felt against his.

You moaned as his hand went up to your breasts, gasping at his sudden change of behavior.

Let’s say that, Simon and you had the other day sleeping in.

385 notes · View notes

luxaryllis · 8 months

Note

hi!! if you're accepting requests rn could you pls write just pure angst of azul with a younger sibling who he was super close to before, but when their parents got divorced they grew distant bc the sibling went to live with their dad instead of with him and his mom. then a few years later sibling ends up attending nrc and azul recognizes them and is excited to talk to them again only to discover that they're not the same as before.

rlly loved your scared younger sibling fics. they gave me chest pains bc of how damn sad they were. keep up the good work :)

Brother Knows Best

Note: OMG!! What is this!? I, Lux, FINALLY finishing something and posting it?! Has a miracle truly happened?!

Anyway, I'll just write the sibling of this one as a year younger than Azul, and the sibling was also be an octopus merfolk. I'm going to mention the reader having interests in some stuff, so please don't get offended if it doesn't apply to you. You can always just replace the traits I put as a trait of yours!

And imma just use Ashengrotto as the family name, cuz idk if Ashengrotto was the last name of Azul's bio father, or step-father, or the maiden name of his mother.

Warning/s: Parents divorcing, Split custody, Angst, Spoilers to Azul's backstory and past, Spoilers to Azul's Ceremonial Robes vignettes, Reader is mentioned to have somewhat similar features to Azul (specific features aren't specified), Tell me if I missed anything

Full post under the cut!

-----

"Big brother! Why are you crying?" A slightly smaller mer-octopus swam closer with a concerned expression.

Azul, who was hiding in an octopus pot, looked up to his sweet and innocent little sibling. The 7-year-old boy's eyes soften, and Azul knew that it was only a matter of time before his baby sibling, [Name], would go through all the bullying and teasing as well.

But Azul didn't want that. He wanted [Name]'s cute smile to last forever. He wanted [Name] to not have to see and experience the horrors of simply being themself. He wanted to protect [Name] from everything and everyone who dared hurt them.

Azul's heart squeezed in his chest as he realizes that he can't. He can't protect [Name]. Azul couldn't even protect himself! He truly was... a weak, dumb, slow little octopus...

Tormented by his thoughts, Azul continued sobbing, hiding further into the octopus pot, hiding his chubby face from his little sibling.

"Don't look at me!!" Azul cries out, accidentally spitting out ink from his tentacles, staining the waters around them. The mess caused Azul to cry even more, the ugly black liquids reminding him of what the other kids told him.

[Name] frowns softly, they didn't know why their big brother was upset. The younger mer-octopus moves closer to the octo-pot, trying to coax their older brother to come out.

"Zul-ie.. what's wrong? I don't like seeing you sad..."

Upon receiving no response, the younger child purses their lips in a pout.

"Come onnn...! Mom and dad made dinner! They made fried chicken! Your favorite!!"

---

"Big brother!! Look, look! Wanna hear this song I learned on the piano?!"

Piano keys played a gorgeous melody under [Name]'s fingers, and Azul watched with wide eyes full of wonder and pride. Azul felt a small sense of envy in him, but he couldn't find it in himself to acknowledge the jealousy, because Azul was too proud of his younger sibling to do that.

And yet...

As [Name] learned more and more, Azul couldn't help but feel... left behind.

As though [Name] doesn't need him anymore.

But... but that isn't true right? [Name] needs Azul... right...?

As days and years pass by, nagging feelings of envy and worthlessness bubble up in Azul as he watches his sibling shine.

'I should be proud of them,' he thinks to himself as his mind wanders while he was studying.

---

'Mom and dad don't love each other anymore...'

Those were the thoughts in the two siblings' heads while they listened to their parents argue for what felt like the umpteenth time. And today, it seemed as though everyone in the house had finally had enough of the screams and shouts.

Around a month or so later, the Ashengrotto family were in court, for a divorce trial. It was a somewhat long process, but the judge's words hit the two children like a truck.

"Mrs. Ashengrotto is to be given custody over Azul Ashengrotto. Whilst Mr. Ashengrotto is to be given custody over [Name] Ashengrotto."

When the Ashengrotto family split up, Azul and [Name] were desperately trying to stay together. It went to the point that their parents had to pull the crying siblings apart because [Name] and their father had to leave.

"Big brother!!! NO!!"

"[Name]!!! Don't leave me please!!"

---

"DON'T LEAVE ME!!"

Azul wakes up with a start, sitting up from the bed with wide eyes and heavy breathing. His hair was frazzled in a bedhead, and he quickly looks around.

The Octavinelle Dorm Leader recognizes his dorm room, and breathes a sigh. Not one of relief, but one of exhaustion. Azul reaches to his bedside table and takes his glasses, putting them on as he checks the clock. 5 am.

Next to the clock, Azul sees the small picture he placed. A family picture of him, his mother, his father, and his younger sibling. It was taken before his parents had divorced. When they were all happy...

Azul stares at his younger sibling in the picture, yearning to see them again. He reaches out a bit, but stops himself and shakes his head. 'Now is not the time', he thinks to himself. He shakily stands up and starts getting ready for the welcoming ceremony of the new first years of NRC.

Azul leaves the room and passes by Jade and Floyd's shared room. The house-warden could hear Floyd's complaining through the door and he sighs, knocking on the door and speaking.

"Floyd, would you stop complaining? Jade and I have to get ready for the Welcoming Ceremony, and you and the others have to start preparing for the welcome party for our new first years."

Almost immediately, Floyd replies with a slight whiney tone. "Says the person who wasn't wrung out like a rag for some lotion! I can barely walk!!" Azul could almost hear the pout in Floyd's voice and sighs in exasperation, listening to Jade trying to calm his brother down.

Deciding to leave the twin eels alone, Azul starts to walk away and head to the Lounge to make sure the preparations are going smoothly. As he walked, his mind can't help but wander to thoughts like if he and his own younger sibling would have a similar dynamic to Jade and Floyd. Hm, or would their dynamic be more like Idia's and Ortho's? Likely not, perhaps.

These thoughts weighed in Azul's mind, and he feels himself shaking his head, trying to rid himself of those thoughts. He hasn't seen his younger sibling for a long time; but Azul certainly hopes that [Name] didn't have such a drastic change like he did.

For some reason, Azul couldn't bear the thought of his previously happy-go-lucky and outgoing [Name] to be anything else other than such a happy mer-octopus. It was wishful thinking, but what kind of older brother would he be if he didn't wish only the best for his younger sibling?

---

When the time came for the Welcoming Ceremony to begin, the Housewardens (exceot for Malleus Draconia, who likely didn't receive the invitation, Azul thinks) were all lined in a circle surrounding the mirror, waiting for students to be sorted into their own dorms.

As each student was being sorted to their dorms, Azul takes the time to look at each student that seemed to catch his attention. None seemed very relevant thus far, maybe a few people he could exploit here and there.

"Next student!"

A student dressed in the NRC Ceremonial Robes stepped out of the crowd of the unsorted first-years. Their hood was on and casting a shadow down their face as they walked towards the mirror.

"State thy name." The mirror said when the student stepped up.

Suddenly, the student spoke a name that ran a shiver down Azul's spine. A name that Azul never thought he would hear no matter how much he wished to hear.

"[Name] Ashengrotto."

Jade raised an eyebrow and turned to Azul curiously, and some other students who recognized the last name also snuck some glances to the Octavinelle Dormleader. Azul could vaguely hear Idia's voice through the floating tablet, saying things like, 'Plot twist?!', but he paid no heed to it.

Azul's eyes were wide, and his mouth was lightly agape in surprise. His younger sibling... studying in NRC?!?

Questions ran through Azul's head in that moment. How is his younger sibling doing? Do they still like to play the piano? Or perhaps they still continued collecting those sea shells? Did [Name] still want to be a singer when they grew up? Do they still enjoy chasing their tentacles like a dog liked chasing its tail? Do they still have that same smile they always did; the one that brightened any room they were in and made their eyes glimmer like the stars land-folk liked to gaze at?

The Dark Mirror spoke again, "The shape of they soul is..."

Azul was beside himself with worry and anticipation. What dorm would his younger sibling be sorted into?

'Octavinelle, Octavinelle, Octavinelle', Azul chanted in his head, hoping for the Dark Mirror to sort [Name] in the dorm he was in.

"... Octavinelle!"

It took almost everything in Azul not to let out a sigh of relief, but he was celebrating in his mind. Suddenly remembering that he was the Dorm Leader of Octavinelle, he stepped up and made himself known to his beloved younger sibling.

Azul mustered up an amicable smile (and those who knew him were rather surprised at how genuine Azul's smile looked), and spoke. "Welcome to Octavinelle, right this way please."

[Name], not having realized who the person underneathe the hood was, nodded and walked to the crowd of Octavinelle students, waiting for the Welcoming Ceremony to be over.

---

After a rather tiring Welcoming Ceremony, with an entire fire getting started by a racoon-cat-monster named Grim, all the students (save for that one student who couldn't get sorted to a dorm) were allowed to leave and go back to their respective dorms.

The Octavinelle first-years were granted a delicious meal and celebration, and were all briefed on their duties in the Mostro Lounge. The entire time, Azul kept sneaking glances at [Name], which wasn't really left unnoticed by the twins or by [Name] themself.

Azul eventually mustered up the courage to approach his younger sibling and struck up a conversation.

"[Name], it's very nice to see you..! I'm Azul, remember? Your older brother?" Azul's voice was one of slight anxiety, did [Name] eveb remember him? It has been a while since they last even heard from each other..

[Name] turns to look at Azul and nods a bit, smiling a little. "Ah, right. It's so nice to see you again, Zulie."

Being referred to his favorite childhood nickname made Azul smile softly, but he couldn't shake off the surprise at seeing the change of demeanor in [Name]. Back when they were younger, [Name] was much more outgoing and enthusiastic compared to this [Name], who seemed to want to curl up in a ball when someone else tried making conversation with them.

Not even their smile fully reached their eyes anymore. Just what had happened to his beloved younger sibling in the time he was gone?

Internally hoping that his younger sibling hadn't changed too much, Azul tried to continue the conversation. "Ah, do you.. still play the piano?"

[Name] shook their head and smiled a little sheepishly in reply. "Oh, no I don't anymore. Atleast, not as often as before. I still play it occasionally, but I don't exactly find it as fun now."

"What about collecting sea shells? Surely, you still find that enjoyable?"

"Dad and I lived in a more colder part of the ocean, and there weren't a lot of sea shells to collect. So, no, not really."

"Ahh, I see... what do you like doing nowadays, then, [Name]?"

"Oh, well..." [Name] then proceeds to tell their older brother of their interests; though most (if not all) the things the younger Ashengrotto listed were things Azul weren't very interested in.

Regardless, Azul nods in understanding, trying not to mind how much his sibling had changed.

The next few weeks after that, Azul had found it hard to approach [Name]. Why? Well, maybe it was because of the fact that his younger sibling had grown rather attached to the Ramshackle prefect and a certain trouble-making trio (Ace, Deuce, and Grim).

Azul had enough of it, seeing his younger sibling get roped into trouble from their group of friends. When [Name] had came back to the dorm with the Heartslabyul's dorm leader's collar on them, Azul had to pull his younger sibling aside to talk.

"[Name], may I ask exactly why you have Riddle's collar on you? What did your friends bring you into this time?" Azul asked [Name] as they spoke in Azul's office. Azul was looking at his beloved younger sibling with furrowed brows and a scrutinizing expression.

[Name] replied, "It's a.. long story, big brother. Yuu, Ace, Deuce, Grim, and I were at Heartslabyul's Unbirthday Party. Dorm Leader Rosehearts got mad at us and collared us and kicked us out of the party because a rule was broken.."

Azul sighs in disappointment and exasperation. He can't believe his younger sibling associated themself with such troublemakers.

"[Name], honestly, why do you even hang out with such people?! They're getting you into trouble!"

[Name] tries to defend themself, "They don't mean to! And I can't just stand by and watch as my friends suffer on their own!"

Azul starts to get a little frustrated. Can't they see, those group of 'friends' as [Name] calls them are terrible influences. It's only a matter of time before they start using [Name] for their own benefit, Azul is sure about that. After all, [Name] has always been rather straightforward in the way that they won't hesitate to help (such values were strange to see in a school like Night Raven College). And Azul knew what happened to people like that; they get exploited, wrung out like a rag, draining them out until there's nothing left to give.

If [Name]'s friends were anything like the other students of NRC (like how Azul would treat his 'clients'), it would be so, so much worse for [Name]. Oh, Azul could practically see it now; it'll start small, like helping out with homework or lending some money. Eventually, it'll be like his younger sibling got the life and kindness sucked out of them, leaving them burnt out like a poor, unfortunate soul!

And Azul can't and won't let his beloved younger sibling go through that. He won't let [Name] fall from grace so terribly like the people who've broken their end of the deal with him.

And that is what Azul tells [Name] (leaving out the parts that paint Azul as the scheming businessman he is, of course) in an effort and attempt to dissuade his sibling from staying friends with their troublemaking friends.

"Don't you see, my dear sibling? They're only using you and their troublemaking schemes would run your student record through the mud. They're getting you involved in so much drama and troubles, and as your older brother, I'd hate for you to be surrounded by such terrible influences," Azul says.

[Name] frowns a bit. Azul worded it as though they hadn't done anything wrong, which wasn't all that far from the truth, though. However, [Name] also knew that Azul was thinking that they were being dragged against their will to help out, which they weren't.

"Big brother... I'm helping out willingly, because I want to. Besides, they're my friends. Didn't the Sea Witch always help other people? We're Octavinelle students, we must always follow the Sea Witch's values."

[Name] replies. The facts about Octavinelle and the Sea Witch were things that the younger Ashengrotto used to try convincing Azul to let them go.

Azul clicks his tongue, his eyes narrowing as he pushes up his glasses that were starting to fall a bit. "Then perhaps you should try getting better, more behaved friends instead of the ones you have right now. What happened to the well-behaved [Name] I used to know?" Azul mutters under his breath, but [Name] could still hear Azul's words.

[Name] frowns at the last question. "What 'happened' is that life happened, Azul. Not everyone stays the same! I've changed!!"

Azul, however, has difficulty getting behind the thought, shaking his head in denial, "Then change back!! [Name], I want the old you! The one who'd listen and trust me without a second thought! The one who was dependent on me! The one who actually made me feel special!!"

That was the last straw for [Name]. They have grown tired of their older brother trying to keep them the same as they used to when they were a child. Can't Azul just let go of the past? "Well that [Name] is gone!! I'm independent now, Azul! I'm not a child! Stop treating me like one!"

[Name] shouts in a burst of anger, before their eyes widen, not having expected themself to actually blow up like that. Not necessarily regretting it, though, the young Ashengrotto quickly turns away and leaves Azul's office, ignoring their older brother's shouts for them to come back.

---

Azul breathes heavily as he falls to his knees, watching as his younger sibling walks away from him, closing the door behind them. The sight can't help but remind Azul of the time when he and [Name] were separated; just this time, [Name] was being pulled away by their 'friends' instead of their father.

Azul can't believe this!! Did [Name] really just walk away from him?! After everything Azul did in hopes of having his dearest sibling back?! How dare they!

How dare they change! How dare they change so much to the point Azul barely recognizes them! How dare they move on from the past so quickly, as if it didn't bother them! And how dare they even think of choosing their friends over him!

How dare they make him cry! How dare they say words that hurt far more than when those pesky merfolk would bully him!! How dare they leave him there, with tears falling down his eyes and with a heart aching for family!

How dare they, how dare they, how dare they!!

Azul takes a deep breath of resolution, his eyes narrowing behind the glint of his glasses. Never mind, then. He'll show them, he just knows it.

Azul calls the Leech twins over to the office, preparing to make a plan for the upcoming exam season, a list of specific names he wants them to target.

He'll show [Name]. He'll show them that he's right. That big brother knows best.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst platonic #twst sibling reader #twst angst #azul ashengrotto

364 notes · View notes

cooliestghouliest · 3 months

Text

LOVE ME TWO TIMES, ch. two

(chapter one) (chapter two)

PAIRING: eventual Mungrove x Reader

SUMMARY: Struggling to come to terms with the abrupt abandonment of your father, you’re left with two options – attend an “all girls’ therapeutic boarding academy” that’s really more Bedlam Insane Asylum than trusty reformative school, or move half-way across the country to a small town in Indiana to live with your older brother, Rick. The upheaval of your life in Fresno might just end up being a little star-crossed and a whole lot serendipitous.

WORD COUNT: 8.7k+

SERIES TAGS: angst. some pretty heavy topics in later chapters. just enough fluff to hopefully balance it all out. eventual smut (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI). not a slow burn; it’s pretty hot and heavy right off the bat. eventual love triangle. neurodiversity. dom/sub undertones (dom!Billy, switch!Eddie, switch!Reader), also bi!Eddie and bi!Reader but confused!Billy. drugs and drug addiction. no use of Y/N (but much use of nicknames and pet names). Reefer Rick is Matthew Lillard circa Senseless. more TBA as the story progresses.

CHAPTER TAGS: unexpected tears. some woeful reminiscing. wisecracking siblings. how Rick and Eddie met. flirting in front of a moody bartender. Eddie has a penchant for being self-deprecating but he tries to be funny about it. oversharing. dehydrated!Eddie 😉 (there’s a tease of f!rec oral here). even more cockblocking. a tinge of tension at the end.

TAG LIST: @babybatlover

—

chapter title: Nobody, That’s My Name

Packing up had actually taken three hours, mostly because you were so undecided on what to bring.

Your stomach was in knots with the realization that you’d have to leave some things behind. You wished you could just transport your entire room as it was to Hawkins.

This had been your sacred space since childhood. You were only two when your family made the move from Chicago to Fresno, so this house was really all you’d ever had memories of.

Your room had grown up and changed alongside you, a non-sentient appendage and an outward expression of every new trend and month-long hobby you’d picked up along the way.

“Bean, you good?” Rick’s voice called out from the other side of your closed door.

You’d been seated on your bed — it could have been for a few minutes or half an hour, you weren’t sure. You hadn’t noticed the wet line that rimmed your bottom lashes until you turned to look at your brother as he stepped inside your room. When you blinked, a tear broke free and rolled down your cheek.

“My face that ugly? You gotta cry when you look at me?”

You choked out a laugh, bringing a hand up to wipe your eyes dry. Leave it to Rick to try and lighten the mood. It’s what he’d been doing his whole life – never taking anything too seriously, refusing to get hung up on any emotion other than those aligned with happy hedonism.

You’d always wondered if there was a secret storm that raged somewhere deep inside of him.

“All my stuff isn't gonna fit inside your stupid van,” you said, not bothering to explain further.

You didn’t need to. Rick could read between the lines.

This was going to be the first time you’d left the only home you’d ever known for longer than a sleepover at a friend’s house.

The residence itself would never win any awards for being the greatest of places, but your bedroom, on the other hand — that had a surefire shot.

It was here where your dad had first read you the The Hobbit, the precursor to your love of fantastical tales.

It was here on the floor where you made your first prank call with Cynthia Toomey, your childhood best friend. It was to a teacher whose number had been written on a stall in the girl’s bathroom. It didn’t strike you as odd then why a twelve-year-old would know a much older male teacher’s phone number, but after the man had gotten arrested a few years back for soliciting a minor at a park, it all started to make sense.

It was here where you’d heard Janis Joplin for the first time, a record Rick had mailed you for your fourteenth birthday. Her deep crooning voice scratched at parts of your soul you didn’t even know were itchy.

It was here where you’d first taught yourself how to sew a patch onto your backpack; where you’d first tried on the lipstick and eyeshadow you’d stolen from the vanity in your parent's bedroom, something that resulted in a week's worth of extra chores (according to your mother, it was to teach you "the consequences of petty theft" or whatever); where you’d first experimented with a girl while watching Happy Days, soft tongues and even softer fingers exploring every inch of uncovered skin as Fonzie’s signature “Ayyyy’s” mixed with her breathy moans and your rapid heartbeat.

“I didn’t think I’d care that much about leaving,” you admitted, voice shakier than you’d hoped it would be.

Rick watched you from the doorframe, giving a knowing smile in an attempt to mollify you. “Y’know, you might not believe it, but I couldn’t sleep the first three nights after I left. Kept thinkin’ about how much I missed my bed and the noise the air conditioner made that I used to think I hated.” He quieted momentarily, observing his surroundings. Overflowing plastic bags and opened suitcases stuffed full of clothes, books, vinyls, and random knickknacks were scattered across the floor. “It’s still home, even if we never really wanted it to be.”

Rick walked over to one of the cases. He bent down to zip it up, having to put a foot on the grip to shut it enough so it closed completely. “But you’re gonna make a fuck ton more memories in Hawkins, Bean,” he pledged, grabbing the handle and pulling it towards the door. “We are. Okay?”

You chewed your lower lip and allowed yourself a few more moments of wallowing before heaving a sigh, slapping your thighs with the palms of your hands as you stood.

“Okay. You sap.” You snatched as many full plastic bags off the ground as you could. “The first memory’s gonna be about how much weaker you are compared to me.” You looked down at the single heavy suitcase he was carrying, scoffing lightheartedly. “Only one, Richard? Really? You have another hand. Use it.”

And he did, by bringing his free one up to flip you the bird.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Although your brother had a spacious purple-painted 1970 Ford Econoline the pair of you could have comfortably slept in, the back of the vehicle was currently filled to the brim with all of your luggage.

Any time the side door had to be slid open for whatever reason, an ample amount of contents came pouring out.

One of your "haunted-as-shit dolls," affectionately dubbed by Rick, had fallen victim to the concrete ground outside of a gas station in Colorado. Its glass eye had popped out and shattered, its arms detaching from its tiny body. You’d gasped in horror at the doll’s demise, smacking Rick on his chest for being so careless.

It was safe to say neither one of you were going to be getting anything from the back of the van until you’d made it to Hawkins to unpack, or else Rick would be forced to face your wrath.

Your possessions were prized, goddammit.

So, one motel stay and thirty-two hours after leaving the WELCOME TO FRESNO sign behind, Rick finally pulled into the driveway of his boathouse.

The orange neon lighting of the van’s dashboard clock read 10:13AM.

You’d been soundlessly sleeping for the last hour of the car ride, having dozed off shortly after Rick had put in a Talking Heads cassette, the G Major melody of This Must Be the Place lulling you into a dreamless nap.

Rick suddenly had the brilliant big brother idea to grant himself the honor of becoming your own personal wake-up alarm.

Putting the car in park, he switched the Talking Heads cassette out for Bad Religion’s How Could Hell Be Any Worse? He skipped to a track titled In the Night, cranked the volume to the max, and started to head-bang and sing along wildly off-key.

You startled awake immediately, arms flailing at nothing as you tried to rapidly blink your eyes open.

When you found Rick performing his solo concert, way too committed to the bit, you refused to laugh at the sight, even if it was your gut reaction. The last thing you wanted to do was encourage him. “Noooo, is this what you’re gonna be like the whole time?” you instead asked with faux abrasiveness, speaking loud enough to be heard over the music.

Rick grinned wide, never faltering in his seated moshing, not until the song came to an abrupt end a few seconds later, when you’d finally had enough and reached a hand over to eject the tape.

“I didn’t want you to have an aneurysm,” you told him plainly with a shrug, in response to his offended look. “I could hear your little brain rattling around up there in that thick skull. I got worried.”

Rick shot a hand up to cover his heart, as if he’d been stabbed. “You wound me, little sister. Deeply and completely.”

He pulled the keys from the ignition and stepped outside, hurrying to the passenger side of the van to slide open the back door. He tried with both hands to stop the cascade of your belongings from spilling out, but failed miserably, clothes and books landing in messy heaps on the driveway.

“Hey, what the fuck!” you called out, hopping down from your seat to start picking up what you could from the pavement, pulling your items to your chest. “Don’t you have any grace?”

Rick pretended to ponder this before saying, “Grace, huh. Think I dated that girl in high school. Don’t have her anymore, nope.” That earned a snort and an eye roll from you.

Rick remembered a time when your brattiness would have annoyed him to no end. He knew it would again, and probably soon, but he was surprised by how fond of it he was right now, how much he missed having you around.

“Once we get all this shit inside,” he started, grabbing two suitcases, filling both hands so he didn’t have to hear you comment about his carrying capabilities (or lack thereof) again, “you can unpack, and we can shower and relax. But then I’ve got plans for tonight.”

He’d begun walking to the front door, you trailing off behind him. “So you’re ditching me the first night I’m here?” you scolded, albeit playfully. You honestly wouldn’t have minded some alone time, being able to start decorating and acquainting yourself with your new abode. Still, you wanted to keep playing the part of bitchy baby sister, a role you hadn’t been able to play in so long but a role you fell right back into, as easy as riding a bike. “That’s very rude, Rick. What a horrible host you are.”

“Not a chance, Bean. Plans for us tonight. You’re comin’ with. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

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He’d told you that he was taking you to some bar called The Hideout. It sounded sleazy, and you’d told him as much. He didn’t argue that, just said there’d be food and drinks and live music. And some guy there he knew that was in the same grade as you.

You didn’t know this, but Rick had a plan for Eddie Munson. He was going to barter with his young metalhead friend: be the lookout for his little sister when Rick wasn’t around, and he’d heavily discount the bulk weed and other goodies Eddie bought from him for the foreseeable future.

“What’s this guy’s name again?” you asked, moving to kick your feet up on the dashboard before Rick swatted your legs down. Again.

He’d told you several times already that sitting like that was one of the most dangerous positions to be in if he got into an accident. Said that your legs would snap and your bones would jam through your body. You thanked him for the visual, then kept doing it.

“Eddie," he answered.

“And what exactly does this Eddie look like…?”

You tried to breach the question with as much nonchalance as you could muster, but the intent behind your inquiry was still obvious: was Eddie attractive?

“Off-limits.”

“Hmm. That’s a weird physical description of someone.”

“I’m serious, Bean. Don’t.”

It wasn’t that Rick didn’t like Eddie.

It was quite the contrary, actually.

Rick had met Eddie the summer of ‘84, outside one of Al Munson’s many, many court hearings, after the elder Munson had mistakenly asked both of them for a ride home.

As an apology, Al invited both Eddie and Rick over to where he was currently freeloading at some guy’s apartment, to smoke a few bowls (that ended up coming from Rick’s personal supply) and order Chinese (that Eddie ended up paying for).

At some point that night, Al had mentioned to Eddie that Rick was the go-to guy for weed and weed-alike.

“Oh, shit, man – you’re Reefer Rick?” Eddie had asked after a particularly rough coughing excursion, having hit the piece a little too harshly.

“Reefer Rick? That’s what the kids are calling me?”

Eddie nodded, handing the bowl off to his dad. “Yeah, you’re kind of like a celebrity. Or a unicorn?” Rick’s brows furrowed deeply at this. Eddie laughed before explaining, “Meaning I very confidently thought you didn’t exist. Figured you were just who the posers from school said they got their shit from as a red herring, so they didn’t get in too much trouble when Hop took their stash.”

“Hop, like, Hopper? Beer-bellied fucking pig asshole Jim Hopper? That motherfucker knows I sell?”

Hopper had been a thorn in Rick’s side since just about the day he’d moved in.

Jim had been pulling Rick over for minor traffic violations almost weekly by that point, and if Eddie was telling the truth, the hard-on Hopper seemed to have for him now made a hell of a lot more sense. The cop was probably trying to catch him with something on him.

Eddie grinned like he was letting his company in on a joke. “Well, he knows Reefer Rick sells. You're just Rick Lipton, my friend."

From that night on, Eddie would stop by Rick’s house twice a month to re-up on his stock. The pair would sometimes get stoned around the fire pit in Rick’s backyard after they made the deal, and Rick soon found out that Eddie was not at all like the hardcore persona he projected to the world. And he definitely wasn’t a magnet for mayhem like his old man.

At heart, Eddie Munson was a total fucking nerd.

He liked mythology and board games and doodling and passionately debating which conspiracy theories he thought would stand the test of time. He often marveled at Rick’s comic book collection, standing at the shelves for an hour or so at times, just browsing the titles that stood out to him. Eddie’s favorites to flip through were Rick’s copies of Twisted Tales and Creepshow.

Rick had briefly thought a handful of times that you and Eddie would probably get along great if the two of you ever met.

But then the thought of just how great you’d possibly get along would get Rick irritated with Eddie for the non-existent relationship the boy didn’t have with a sister he didn’t even know Rick had.

On their last meet-up, Eddie had told him that he and his bandmates would dress up as pirates and paladins and go to the Ren Faire twice a year.

The band. That was another reason Rick was wary of introducing the two of you.

Being in the scene for as long as he had been now, Rick knew many musicians, and he wouldn’t trust nearly any of them around his baby sister.

They weren’t all like Eddie, though. Rick had to admit that.

Sure, the boy was a little rough around the edges, rowdy and flamboyant, but Rick remembered being kind of the same way as a teenager – and he hadn’t ruined the lives of any girls, had he? Not that he knew of at least, or at least not intentionally.

He’d been a bit of a relationship hopper, just desperate for attention when you got to the bottom of it, but Rick had never been disrespectful of women. He’d never forced himself on anyone, never pleaded to turn a “no” into a “yes,” never verbally or physically accosted any of them. Rick couldn’t bring himself to even imagine doing anything like that. He couldn’t imagine Eddie doing any of that either.

Despite cringing at the idea of you and Eddie maybe catching something more than just friendly feelings for one another, Rick still couldn’t think of another person he’d trust more to keep tabs on you when he himself wasn’t around.

But Rick could still at least try to persuade you to see Eddie in just a platonic light.

“He’s a dork, Bean. His favorite talking point is why Gollum is just a misunderstood victim. Doesn’t shut up about how they do the special effects in those gory B-horror movies, ruins the whole fuckin’ movie yapping. Plays lame board games with his little weirdo degenerate friends.”

“First of all, Rick, did you ever even read Lord of the Rings?” you started, throwing your hands up in disbelief, and Rick was sorry he even opened his mouth. “Sméagol is totally just a misunderstood victim. I mean, sure, whatever, he bit off Frodo’s finger, but he was basically the reason Sauron was defeated! It’s all the Ring’s fault. It was evil. It possessed everyone.” You huffed, settling back against the seat as you watched Rick pull into a parking space at what you assumed was The Hideout. “Also, are these things supposed to make me want to talk to this guy less? 'Cause if that’s the case, you’re really good at doing the exact opposite of what you intend.”

Rick gave a classic you move, rolling his eyes.

“Just don’t flirt with him, Bean, damn. Please. It’s, like, my only rule. He’s my… friend. He’s my friend. So just don’t.”

You pushed your lips to the side, stepping out of the car before Rick turned off the ignition.

Did your brother know nothing about you? Being told you weren’t allowed to flirt with this stranger, to even go as far as saying he was ‘off-limits’? You now knew exactly what your plan was for the rest of the night: try to break Rick’s only rule.

Isn’t that what little sisters were for?

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You knew Rick had said there would be live music, but you definitely weren’t expecting four young men about your age on stage singing nearly spot-on covers of Slayer and Iron Maiden songs.

Rick had gotten the two of you a table towards the back of the bar. He’d bought you a vodka pineapple – which he wasn’t initially intending on doing, at first telling you a Coke was all you were getting, something you were not willing to accept; after a hefty amount of prodding, he moped off to buy you the fruity alcoholic beverage just to get you to stop being so fucking annoying about it.

You were nursing the last few sips, sucking the liquid noisily through the small black straw, when the cute lead singer with the mess of black curls brought his mouth to the microphone.

“You guys have been great, really, all five of you, couldn’t ask for better fans,” he spoke to the sparse crowd. No one clapped or cheered or anything, which made you laugh out loud at the one-sided interaction. “This’ll be our last song for the night – ”

“Freebird!” someone in the audience called out.

“Vince, I tell you every time, we’re not fucking playing Freebird, man — it’s never gonna happen,” tall, dark-haired, and handsome sniped from the stage.

Familiar chords started to echo out from the bassist, the moppy haired drummer hit his wooden drumsticks together in a steady rhythm, and the small-town rockstar began singing Enter Sandman.

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Rick had been chatting with a handful of other bar patrons throughout the duration of the band’s setlist. A few of them — older, biker-looking men — occupied your table as the band on stage started to descend, done for the night.

You heard the jukebox start up, playing some Dolly Parton song, a hilarious juxtaposition from the heavy metal music that had just filled the bar.

Your eyes searched for the lead singer, spotting him heading over to the bar alone, the other boys in the band disappearing off backstage with their instruments in tow.

“Hey, I’m gonna go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back,” you announced, but Rick just nodded and waved you off, in a deep conversation with one of the bearded men about something to do with Special K. The cereal? You didn’t know, and you didn’t care to stay long enough to find out.

What you wanted to do was to talk to this Kirk Hammett lookalike that poured his heart out on the stage of a hodunk bar like he was performing in front of hundreds of thousands of people at Madison Square Garden.

His back was to you when you approached, black ringlets of hair falling down past his shoulders, frizzy from the indoor humidity.

You put your now empty drink down on the bar-top, the clinking sound pulling his attention over to you.

Oh, wow.

He was nice to look at from afar, but even nicer to look at up this closely. His face was flushed, likely from the hour-long show he’d just put on, a small smattering of light chestnut freckles peeking out over alabaster skin. His big brown eyes widened as they took you in, as if he couldn’t believe you were staring at him.

“You were great up there,” you started, not able to contain your smile. “Made me forget I was in Hawkins. Thought I was at Whisky a Go Go or something.”

He looked surprised. Whether that was from your compliment or just from you talking to him in general, you weren’t sure. “Yeah?” he prodded, voice deep and raspy, obviously a bit blown out from the seven or eight songs he’d just belted.

You nodded eagerly. He grinned wide, chest puffing out a bit now. Boys plus ego stroking equaled checkmate, one of your favorite mottos.

“Can I, uh, buy you a drink? Whatever you want… whatever that was,” he pointed to your empty glass, “I can buy you another one of those.”

“Nice try, Munson,” came the voice of the bartender. Your new friend — Munson, supposedly — shot him an annoyed look. “I know you’re only twenty. You can have water or a soda. That’s it, kid.”

The raven-haired metalhead turned his attention back to you, face a bit chagrined. “Foiled by the barkeep. Sorry. You want a soda? Best in the Midwest. You’ll never drink another Coca-Cola like this ever again.”

You laughed. “Sure, I’ll take a Best in the Midwest soda. Coke with grenadine, light ice.”

“You heard the lovely lady,” Munson said to the bartender, obviously enjoying that he now got to order the man around a bit. “Coke with grenadine, light ice. Hop to it.”

“Lucky the boss likes you, you little shit,” the bartender was grumbling, but Munson didn’t seem distressed. Amused, if anything.

You watched as his eyes drifted up to the top of your head. “Now those are cool,” he acknowledged, pointing with a ringed finger.

Your brows furrowed in confusion before realization struck. Oh, yeah! You’d forgotten you’d put on a tiny little headband before leaving for the bar. It was black, but had two small red devil horns poking out on either side.

“Why, thank you,” you said, bringing a hand up to touch one of the points. “Although I wasn’t really going for cool. More along the lines of wicked or evil, maybe. Sinful. Be the reason everybody in here’s thinkin’ all those shameful thoughts.”

Had Eddie been anywhere else, or at least not high from the adrenaline he ran on after performing, he knew he wouldn’t have been able to fight off the blush from your comment. That, mixed with the heavy-lidded stare you were currently fixing on him, he’d have been a goner.

Thankfully for him, he was able to continue to false bravado his way through this conversation, as he’d just spent two-ish hours channeling his inner Eric Adams from Manowar. He could act like a big shot for a little longer. “With a face like yours, I don’t think I can call you anything but an angel.” He surprised himself with his flirtatious evenness, but he tried not to let it show on his face.

He watched as your eyes softened a smidge, but the moment was ruined when the bartender shot forward your glass.

“Coke with grenadine, light ice, for the lovely lady,” he mocked, his hard stare never leaving Munson’s face.

When the bartender turned away, Munson glanced at you, then shot a look over his shoulder at the moody man as if to say, What’s this guy’s problem?

You couldn’t help but laugh at his colorful expression before you brought your straw to your lips, taking a sip.

“Oh, fuck!” came the expletive from Munson. “Sorry. Here I am, buying you drinks and calling you an angel, and you don’t even know my name.” He fixed himself into a relaxed pose, leaning his side against the edge of the bar-top. “Hi, there. I’m Eddie.” He offered what he hoped was a beseeching smile.

Eddie… Eddie… where had you heard that name tonight? You knew you’d heard it from somewhere…

Oh! Eddie! As in, Rick’s off-limits, total dork of a friend, Eddie. This had to be him, right?

How lucky you were. You didn’t even have to go searching for your fun for the night. He just strolled off the stage, practically falling right into your lap. He’d even bought you a drink!

Achieving your goal of breaking Rick’s only rule might be a lot easier than you’d intended.

“Ooooh, so you’re Eddie,” you bemused, taking another small drink. “Of course you’re Eddie.”

A worried look overtook his previously collected features. “You’ve heard about me?” he asked. His voice now wasn’t as confident as it had been before. It was tinged with uncertainty, maybe a bit of anticipatory disappointment. “What d'you mean, 'Of course I’m Eddie’?”

“No, no, it’s nothing bad,” you cooed, bringing a hand to rest on his forearm. You could feel the solidity of his muscles beneath your fingers. You fought the urge to squeeze. “All good stuff, actually. Meeting you’s just adding to the intrigue. I promise.”

That seemed to put him more at ease. He nodded slowly, eyes briefly darting down to your hand which was still grazing his arm. You took it away, wondering if he wasn’t appreciative of it.

You’d read it wrong. He was.

“What’s your name?” he asked, finding your stare again.

Should you have told him?

It probably wouldn’t have hurt.

But you were afraid maybe Rick had already gotten to him, told him to steer clear of his little sister. Name dropping yourself might make Eddie back off, and you did not want that.

“You said you can’t call me anything but an angel,” you replied with puckish modesty. “So, let’s stick with that.” You put your free hand out, the one that had previously taken space on his arm. “Hi, Eddie. I’m Angel.”

You were a little bewildering, kind of cryptic, and super fucking hot. Eddie was a big fan of all three. He didn’t want to pressure you into giving an actual name if you didn’t want to. He could live with Angel. It wasn’t like the moniker was inaccurate.

“Okay, angel,” he granted, taking your hand in his. “It’s an honor.” He brought his lips down to press lightly against the skin of your fingers, eyes never leaving yours. He relished in the tiny bite you gave the corner of your lower lip at his action.

The bartender cleared his throat loudly. Both you and Eddie rolled your eyes simultaneously, turning your attention to him again as you pulled your hand back.

“You two mind? No one wants to come up here and drink with the both of you making Fuck Me eyes at each other. Scram.”

“You’re mean,” you admonished.

Eddie laughed at your accusation, bringing a hand up to the back of his neck, rubbing at it under the heavy weight of his hair.

“You smoke?” he asked.

“Smoke what?” you countered.

Eddie grinned. “I was gonna suggest a cigarette, but maybe you’d be interested in something a little… greener?”

Your brows shot up in intrigue and you nodded, sucking the rest of your soda down in three long sips before slamming the glass back down on the wooden surface of the bar.

“Show me the way, rockstar.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

“So, I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen you around here before,” Eddie started, leading you out the door of The Hideout, heading into the parking lot.

You’d quickly scanned the crowd for Rick before exiting, wanting to make sure he was still otherwise occupied and wouldn’t catch you sneaking out with the one person he most definitely didn’t want you sneaking out with.

No longer was he talking to the biker bros that had basically accosted him at the table. Now he was sitting so close to a pretty purple haired girl that you were sure their foreheads were touching. His hand was on her cheek, and he was smiling goofily at her.

Good. He should be busy for a while now. Thank you, lavender loc’d lovergirl.

“'Cause you’d remember my pretty face if you’d seen it before, is that the rest of your sentence?” you teased.

Eddie grinned a bit bashfully, hand moving to rub at his neck again. You acknowledged it was probably a tell for when he was nervous or bordering on embarrassed. Good to know, perhaps an essential quirk to tuck away for safekeeping.

“Yeah, something like that,” he admitted with a laugh. “But really. You’re not from Hawkins, are you?”

“I am not from Hawkins, no. I actually just moved here today, if you can believe it.”

“Wow,” Eddie said, voice taking on a bantering tone. “Less than 24 hours here and you’re already walking alone at night with some stranger who many have dubbed a sinister cult leader. I may just be Indiana’s very own Satan incarnate. What ever will your parents think?”

“Well, lucky for you, I happen to be the offspring of a high-level Duke of Hell,” you countered, fully thinking of your mother when you spoke. “Guess it’s a match made in… Inferno?”

“My favorite kind of match,” Eddie confessed with a grin as you approached the brown and cream Chevy Beauville you figured belonged to him.

You paused for a beat as Eddie pulled open the side door before asking, “Do people really think that? That you’re a cult leader?”

“Oh, yeah,” he responded, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. When he spoke next, he took on a theatrical guise, words laced with performative shock. “When I walk down the street, men can’t help but to scoff and glare; women clutch their purses to their chests; mothers cover their children’s eyes before their children can shriek in horror; dogs bark and wolves howl and the whole Earth opens up beneath my feet.”

You found yourself watching in utter amusement at his sermonizing, your focus unwavering on his expressive hand motions and his demonstrative body language, your ears attuned to every shift in infliction of his voice.

Rick was right.

Eddie was a dork.

But such an endearing dork. A stellar storyteller. A winsome wordsmith. And it was like he wasn’t even trying. Like this ingenuity came to him as easy as taking a breath.

He reminded you a little of your father -- the eagerness to put on a show, the effortless spellbinding nature. The similarities filled your chest with a warmth you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Too much?” Eddie asked, cringing a little at your silence.

You shook your head slowly, smiling. “Not at all.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Eddie had a multicolor Afghan spread out on the floor in the back of his van, one he informed you was made for him by a past girlfriend of his Uncle’s.

He apologized profusely that the interior wasn’t more appealing, mumbled something about how he should maybe think about getting actual seats installed, but when you sprawled out wordlessly on the blanket, back plush against its scratchy softness, and positively beamed at him, he shut up.

He sat down next to you after finding a half-smoked joint in his middle console, offering it to you for the first hit.

“Where'd you move here from?” he asked after a few moments of peaceful silence, nothing heard but the sizzle from the lit Rizla and the steady stream of cars from the busy street outside.

“Fresno,” you replied, passing the joint to him as you held in your hit until the smoke burned your lungs.

“A California city girl in little ole Hawkins?” he bemused, taking a deep drag. “You must feel pretty out of place here, angel.”

With a shrug, you said, “Dunno yet. It’s only been less than a day, remember?” You took the joint as he extended it out to you, taking a smaller hit this time. “Ask me again after school on Monday.”

“You goin’ to the community college or something?”

“No, I’m still in high school. Senior. I think it’s just called…”

“Hawkins High. Yeah, I uh, I go there too.” That hand rubbing at the back of his neck again. “Um – Paul, y'know, that mean bartender, he… said something about me being twenty? I dunno if you heard. But, yeah. I got held back a few years, so…”

Turns out the hand thing was a sign of embarrassment.

“Eddie, you don’t have to explain yourself to me,” you told him, moving to position your weight onto one side, leaning against your elbow. “Everybody’s on a different path. Besides, high school is such bullshit. It’s basically hardwired for you to fuck up or fail. Believe me, I know.”

You took another hit, this one bigger, wanting to feel the lightheadedness of the high sooner rather than later, especially breaching this subject. It always warranted a lament from you.

“I’ve had specialized learning plans since forever,” you continued, passing the joint off to him. His brows furrowed in concentration as he listened. “I was diagnosed with ADHD when I was little. Like, five or six. I could never sit still in class, and I always needed way more time to take tests than everybody else, and I'd forget whole chunks of paragraphs that I’d just read the second I finished reading them.” You sighed, slightly frustrated at the memories, but the weed was beginning to work its magic. Your muscles felt like they were relaxing, tension drifting away, and your head felt a very good kind of heavy. “But then I got on medicine, and it helped. Still helps.” As an afterthought, you added, “When I remember to take it.”

Eddie considered this for a few moments before sticking the joint in his mouth, inhaling. “Shit. Maybe I have ADHD,” he surmised, exhaling a thick cloud into the air.

“Maybe,” you suggested. “I’d say you could talk to my mom, 'cause she’s a psychiatrist, but she’s actually a huge fucking bitch, so nevermind.”

Eddie laughed, not expecting you to say that, and he'd been in the middle of another inhale so he ended up choking and coughing hard on the smoke.

“Oh, no!” You hurried into a sitting position. “Are you – are you okay?” you asked, and you felt bad, but you couldn’t help the little laughs that were escaping your lips at his now bright red tomato face. You were stoned. “D'you – do you have water in here, somewhere?”

Eddie nodded, having a brief break in his hacking fit, pointing to the front of his van. “Y-yeah, shit,” cough, cough, cough, “o-over there. Fucking fuck, man.” Cough, cough. That last one sounded like it hurt.

You scurried on your hands and knees to the front of the van, scanning the dashboard for some kind of drink. The high made it seem like your eyes could only move in slow motion. Finally spotting a half-drank bottle of blue Gatorade, you snatched it, crawling hurriedly back over to where Eddie sat hunched over, trying to control his breathing.

He took the drink, spun the cap off, and quickly downed most of the contents in an attempt to soothe his raw throat.

“Goddamn,” he rasped out. He realized he was still holding the joint in his hand. He definitely didn’t want anymore now. He looked to you, offering it silently, but you shook your head, rejecting it. He stubbed it out in an ashtray that was laying at his side. Bringing the Gatorade back to his lips, he dipped his head back, finishing it off.

Without really thinking, and weed always loosening your already pretty loose inhibitions, you brought your hand to rest on his cheek, your thumb stroking a small path back and forth on the smooth skin under his eye. “You good?” you asked, the ghost of a laugh twisting at your words.

Eddie’s breath caught in his throat at your touch. He was happy he’d swallowed the Gatorade or else he probably would have started choking on that, too.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt a careful caress like the one you were currently giving him. It was simple, but it felt so good. So soft. And – fuck – you were straddling one of his thighs with your legs, and he didn’t even think you noticed. But he definitely did.

Even though his skin was covered by denim, he could still feel the heat from your center warming him. His cock gave an appreciative jerk in the confines of his tight jeans.

Your eyes finally drifted down to the sitting arrangement you found yourselves in. Slowly lifting your gaze to meet his glassy, doe-eyed stare once more, you tilted your head to the side in quandary, hand not dropping from the curve of his face.

“Should I move?” you asked, voice a pitch louder than a whisper.

“Please don't,” Eddie answered, unblinking.

You let your weight rest fully down on his thigh, shifting your hips once, watching as his eyes rolled back at the contact. He was so receptive that it made your cunt clench around nothing, and you took that moment to pull his face closer to yours, pressing your lips to his almost hard enough to bruise.

Eddie groaned at the feel of your mouth, his tongue eagerly and immediately trying to pry open your lips. You grinned into the kiss, giving him what he wanted by allowing his hot tongue access to slide slippery against your own.

He thought you were sweet and citrusy, like sugared oranges, and a little tart, like ripe pomegranate. He thought fleetingly that if he could, he’d bottle you up and drink you with every meal.

You thought he was fresh and sharp, like spearmint gum, and heady, like expensive sativa. Your tongue fought with his for dominance, each moan from either one of you spurring on the other, greedy mouths working hard to stake their claim.

When you finally pulled away, you were a little out of breath. “God, Eddie, you kiss like you’re thirsty.” Your hand moved from its resting place on his face to tangle in the curls at the back of his head.

He groaned when he felt you tug at the roots of his scalp, bringing a hand up to cradle just under your chin, fingers stretching out over the expanse of your neck. A lazy grin curved at his lips.

“You wanna see thirsty?"

With that, he flipped the both of you over so you were on your back, Eddie positioning himself between your spread legs. You were happy for the padding of the Afghan, knowing the cool steel flooring of the van would have pinched your skin unpleasantly.

He wasted no time in pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, sucking quick but harsh at your supple skin.

You moaned wantonly, lolling your head to the side to give him better access. Your legs moved to wrap around his slim waist, your hips moving up to feel as much of him against your center as you could. Eddie couldn’t help but give a thrust down against you, his persistently hardening cock straining taut against his jeans.

“Can I taste you?” he asked against your skin, pressing softer kisses to the tiny marks he’d left just moments ago with his lips and teeth.

A strained whimper escaped your lips at his request. You nodded, feeling more drunk than high, arching your hips up again to try and garner more friction from him.

“Say it,” he demanded, bringing a hand up to grip at your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “‘I want you to taste me, Eddie.’ Tell me.”

“I want you to taste me, Eddie,” you repeated lewdly, ad-libbing after with, “please, Eddie, want you to make me feel good.”

His pupils blew dark and wide, and he slid the remainder of the way down your body, burying his head under your skirt. Without removing your underwear or even pushing them to the side, he pressed his mouth to the damp fabric, his open-mouthed kisses continuing there. A desperate sound came from him as he sucked you through your panties, the deliciously honeyed scent of you enveloping him completely.

In this moment, he felt like if he died with his face buried in your heat, it would be a very happy and welcomed death.

“Eddie, take them off,” you demanded, shaking your hips around in a frustrated movement.

He laughed at your impatience, but moved to grant you your wish. He hooked his fingers under the sides of your panties, just about to pull them down… before a loud pounding was heard on the outside of the van.

“Hey, Ed? Hate to interrupt you, dude, but my mom’s gonna be pissed if you don’t get me home by 10.”

Eddie groaned loudly, the noise sounding almost pained. It seemed like it took a lot out of him to have to move his head out from under your skirt. He glanced over his shoulder to the clock on his dash, the LED numbers reading 9:35PM.

“This dream just turned into a real fucking nightmare, angel,” he grumbled, biting down lightly at your inner thigh.

You jolted at the feel of his teeth, and couldn’t help but give a frustrated whine at his sentiment, wholly agreeing. Your entire body was thrumming, wanting so badly to be touched and given a release.

“Eddie…?” came the voice again.

“Yeah, Doug, got it. Give me a minute, man.”

Eddie took one more longing look at your clothed cunt, studying the wet spot made from his spit and your arousal. He gave a salacious lick of his lips before dragging his eyes up to meet yours.

“That’s my bassist,” he begrudgingly informed. “His mom’s like your mom. Huge fucking bitch, but don't ever tell him I said that. I have to drive him home or else she’ll forever forbid him to play another show.”

You offered him a placating smile, moving your hand to brush a few of his longer bangs from around his eyes. “It’s okay. I mean, it really isn’t, 'cause I’m so fucking horny right now, but I get it.” Eddie gave another groan at your admission. He cursed the universe for shit fucking timing, and for totally inconsiderate bassists who didn’t have their licenses.

“Can I see you again?” he asked, voice bordering on timid.

It was shocking to you how he could go from dirty mouthed amateur porn star to red-cheeked virginal teenage boy in the matter of minutes. The duality was enticing. You briefly wondered just how far you could push him to either end of the spectrum.

“I’ll give you my number,” you said, but then remembered, “oh, wait, I don’t know my number yet. Um. You can give me yours?”

Eddie nodded fervently, moving to a kneeling position as he reached over and started looking through a pile of stuff on his passenger seat. He pulled out a pen from the mess and ripped off a small piece of paper from an old report card, quickly scrawling down his digits.

“Here,” he said, moving to hand it to you. He did a quick once over though, realizing you didn’t have pockets, so he slid the folded piece of paper under the front hem of your panties. He patted it with his fingers and gave a pleased grin before saying, “C'mon, I’ll walk you back inside.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

By the time you’d made it back through the front door of The Hideout, Rick was running around like a chicken with its head cut off, obviously in search of you.

“What the fuck, Bean!” he scolded, marching his way up to you when he spotted you walking in, not even glancing at Eddie. “I don’t pay attention for two minutes and you disappear for an hour?!”

“Two minutes, Richard, really?” you laughed out, the sound incredulous. Because, really, Rick’s timeframe was way, way off. You knew he wasn’t the greatest at math, but damn, right now he was straight up delusional. “You’ve been talking to everyone but me since we got here! You weren't paying attention for way longer than two minutes.”

“So not fuckin’ true,” he said, but his tone was quieter now as if he figured that, yeah, it might actually be true.

Rick’s eyes finally drifted to your side, observing Eddie’s presence. You’d taken great care to fix the boy’s hair and his clothing, making sure he didn’t look disheveled for this very reason – you could tell Rick was sizing the younger man up after finding out the two of you were off somewhere together. Alone.

Eddie looked like a lost puppy, glancing between you and Rick, trying to figure out what the fuck the dynamic between the two of you was. You tried your hardest not to look so amused at his sweet, utterly confused expression.

“Oh, yeah, I ran into Eddie while I was outside smoking,” you explained away easily. “He told me you guys are friends. I figured he’s who you brought me here to meet.”

Eddie side eyed you, unsure of where this was heading. He definitely did not tell you that he and Rick were friends. Eddie didn’t even think him and Rick were friends. He hoped they were, he wanted them to be, but he didn’t think it’s how Rick would have classified their relationship.

Rick turned his apprehensive gaze on Eddie. “Is that true?” he asked, eye contact steady and unblinking.

Best go along with it, Eddie thought.

“Couldn’t be truer.”

The older man seemed to consider Eddie’s response for a minute before a familiar silly grin etched itself across his pierced face.

“Cool!” he exclaimed, clapping Eddie on the shoulder.

Rick had been planning on propositioning Eddie tonight about being your watchdog, but after downing a few drinks and having basically driven around for the past four days straight with little sleep, he figured that conversation could wait a little longer. “You wanna come over tomorrow night, Munson? Hang out with me and the little sister for a bit?”

Eddie’s brows furrowed, shaking his head slowly in uncertainty. “Sure, but... who’s your little sister?”

Rick’s smile slowly began to fade in skepticism as his attention moved from Eddie and back to you standing beside him.

“Me, silly,” you admonished, bringing a hand down to grab at his, concealing the contact behind your back so Rick didn’t see. You stroked the skin on his thumb in a wordless apology for the whole not-being-totally-honest-about-who-you-were thing.

Eddie’s eyes widened at the reveal, still a little too stoned for the realization that he’d just had one of the hottest make-out sessions of his entire life with… Reefer Rick Lipton's… little sister…

Shit.

“Remember? I told you outside?” you were pleading at him with your eyes, still trying to make it not appear obvious that you were lying your ass off to your older brother.

Eddie indulged, not wanting to be on the receiving end of the rage of Rick if he found out what had just gone one in the back of his Beauville.

“Oh, yeah! Right, right!” Eddie tried to play it off. “Sorry, man, I’m just – totally fucking stoned.” That part was relatively true. This whole interaction was making him feel even higher than he thought he was in the first place, actually. Eddie gave Rick what he prayed was an easy-going grin.

You released Eddie and stepped in between the two of them, forcing out a wide yawn. “Rick, c'mon, I’m getting tired,” you brought your hand to your brother’s arm, starting to tug at him, pulling him toward the door. “Let’s go home.” You stressed the last word, hoping that by you referring to his Hawkins residence as that, it would soften and distract him.

It did.

Rick relented, figuring he was probably just looking too deeply into things, understanding his paranoia sometimes got the better of him. Nothing probably happened between you and Eddie. He was probably just being an overbearing older brother. Probably.

“Right. 'Kay. Lemme just go find this one girl and say bye.” He disappeared off into the dwindling crowd, and you assumed he was off to bid adieu to the same purple-haired girl from before.

You took this as your chance to turn to Eddie.

Eddie, who was currently staring at you a little too warily for your liking.

“Please don’t be mad at me,” you implored, fingers finding his hand again. He didn’t make a move to pull away, so you took that as a good sign. “Just come over tomorrow night, okay? We can talk about it.”

It kind of freaked you out how much you didn’t want this – whatever this was – between the two of you to be ruined so quickly.

Since your dad left, you knew things in your life had gone a little downhill, and you also knew you’d been acting a bit belligerently in your attempts to try and ignore it. You’d been making irresponsible, rash decisions all over the board – from school, to home, to friendships and relationships. Nothing seemed to be sacrosanct from your newfound self-sabotaging behaviors.

From this, you’d encountered quite a few willing partners, of both the opposite and same sex, to occupy your mind and time since last summer, and not a single one of them was someone you were interested in getting to know more than just carnally.

Eddie was the first person in a long time you felt you actually clicked with on more than just a physical level, and that was evident from your discourse at the bar, your rendezvous in the van, and now with the realization that you may have screwed it all up by not being truthful to him. You were starting to get a stomach ache. This was so not how you’d planned on the night ending.

Across from you, Eddie seemed to weigh the entire situation as you just had, his dark brown eyes studying your face as he did so. Maybe to find a glimmer of further deceit? Of an ulterior motive? He was used to those things. It wasn’t often people wanted him just to want him. It was usually to get something from him.

However, he could find nothing but honest anticipation in your eyes. His fingers squeezed yours briefly before Rick made his way back over, your brother’s heavily tattooed arm sliding around your frame as he pulled you away.

“See ya tomorrow, Munson!” Rick called.

At the last moment you could, right before the door to the bar closed, you looked back over your shoulder at Eddie. He saw you smile at him. Your intention was to silently ask for the possibility of forgiveness, or at the very least, understanding.

Eddie watched the door you’d exited through for a minute or two longer. Blinking back to reality, he realized he was tired, at first thinking it was just from the weed, but then remembering that Corroded Coffin had literally played a show tonight.

That seemed like days ago at this point.

Being in the van with you had felt like a lengthy escapade, definitely more than just roughly sixty minutes spent together.

Eddie’s palms started to sweat.

He hadn’t known you before an hour ago, but now that you weren’t next to him anymore, talking and teasing, he’d felt more alone than he had in a long time.

Exiting the bar, Eddie headed back to his van.

The whole trip to Dougie’s house and then on his ride back to the trailer park, he was fake scenario-ing all the different ways tomorrow night at Rick’s could go.

Maybe he was bound to be screwed over by you eventually, fucked royally in a not-so-fun way.

But Eddie, ever the opportunist, would likely let you as long as that meant he got to go along for the ride.

#eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #billy x reader #billy x you #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove #billy hargrove smut #mungrove x reader #mungrove

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captain-mj · 1 year

Note

I love love love Körangi so:

Soft dom König who loves saying words of affirmation and affection and sub bottom Horangi who cries alot during sexy times because he considers himself as ugly and not worthy of being taken care of🙏 (yesyes i love dacryphilia)

(inspired by the designs from @/quozacchi on twt hehe)

I love that artist's design so much, yes, yes

König had planned everything carefully, making sure no one would be around his room for several hours that night. He also made sure to have snacks and a drink on hand for when they were done.

Horangi arrive right on time, clearly excited, as he jumped on him, pressing against him.

"I got you, katze. Want you to undress for me." König said the command gently and Horangi tensed in his lap.

"Can't we just... do it dressed? You like how I look in civvies."

"I do, but I want to see you. All of you." He trailed his fingers over his thighs, loving the tense muscle. "You're so pretty."

Horangi sighed and got up, undressing with slow, shaking hands. König didn't mind waiting. It felt like a strip tease as he watched inch by inch as got to see more and more. The scars along his body made such gorgeous stripes. They started on his back and down his arms. He was already hard, making him look even cuter.

"Beautiful."

"No." Horangi argued immediately and König could see him start to pull away.

König decided not to argue yet, instead moving closer and gently pulling him into bed. He ran his hands down his back, admiring him. To make things fair, he undressed as well and pulled Horangi's hands to touch him.

"You're pretty." Horangi mumbled. "Not me." He squeezed his flesh gently.

König shook his head and covered his fingers in lube. "I'm going to work you open nice and slow, ja? It's been a while, don't want to hurt you." He knew Horangi would let him, but he refused, wanting to make sure he enjoyed it just as much.

One finger slipped inside him and he could feel how achingly tight Horangi was around him. Upon hearing the shuddering breath from Horangi, König was quick to reassure him. "Doing beautiful, love. So good."

Horangi shivered. "König..."

"Doing so good. Gonna add another finger now okay?" König waited until he got a nod to slide another one in. He rocked into his fingers into him slowly, feeling him start to melt him around him. "You're going to feel so good around me."

Horangi let out a whine as his back started to arch. Pleasure twisting his features as his mouth slowly fell open. His eyes opened just a little to catch König staring. A flush covered his face as he glanced away, clearly embarrassed.

"Horangi. Keep looking at me." He felt him tremble around him just a little but he did so. König kept eye contact with him as he gently pushed the third finger in. Thanks to the size difference, he always was a bit paranoid. He wanted to make absolutely sure Horangi could take him easily. "There you are, gorgeous."

"König, please." Horangi whimpered.

"Color?"

"Green." Horangi looked ashamed, body clenching. His eyes were filling with tears and they had barely started.

"Good." König praised. "Doing so good." He twisted his fingers before spreading them, making Horangi almost scream.

"Please, rougher."

"Not in the mood." König loved this game. Being rough was fun, yes. But he couldn't make Horangi cry like that. It took a soft touch to get this reaction from him and König loved pampering Horangi.

Horangi fell back, shaking.

"You're going to keep your hands above your hand and take it for me. Take all the pleasure I give you, because you're good for me. You always are."

"Yes. Yes, please." Horangi squeezed the sheets above his head, trying not to fall apart. König kissed along his stomach, enjoying the soft flesh over hard muscle. There were scars here too, but he loved all of them.

"So pretty. Want to take pictures of you. Keep you posed for me." König gently slipped his fingers out of him. He added more lube to his own cock, just in case. Horangi's leg ended up hooked over his shoulder but he kept his hands above his head. "Tilt your head back for me and move your arms a little more up. Just like that. Gorgeous."

Horangi held himself like that, putting his entire body on display. His legs shook as he started to cry. "I am not."

"Yes, you are. Think you're absolutely stunning, katze. Gonna prove it to you. Tell you however many times it takes for you to believe." He pushed inside him, not letting him adjust until he bottomed out because he loved the sweet sound it drug out of him.

"So big." Horangi whimpered.

"Yet you take me so well. So perfectly. Made for me." König rocked into him, steadily but achingly slow.

"Please, please. König." Horangi whined desperately, his hands were shaking, clenching even tigher in the sheets.

"What do you need?" König expected him to beg him for more.

"Please let me touch." Horangi asked shakily and König immediately nodded, feeling those callused his hands grip his shoulders. He pulled him down to kiss him, hands running through his red hair. "Thank you."

"You're perfect. Being such a good boy for me."

Horangi started to cry in earnest. "No."

"My good boy. You always are. Taking whatever I give you." He rolled his hips right against his prostate to make him cry out. "Mine. All mine."

"All yours. Please." Horangi tugged his hair. "It's so good..."

König finally started thrusting into him, burying himself in him over and over again. "You're perfect.”

Horangi started to sob, holding on to his shoulders. He shook his head and exposed his throat. König kissed along his neck, making soft hickeys next to his scars.

“König. König.” Horangi pleaded with him, holding him close. “Need more.”

König thrust harder into him, making him moan louder. Horangi’s legs tightened around his waist desperately as he tried to press into him. “There you go, katze. I have you.”

König grabbed his cock and started to stroke gently, matching it with his thrusts. Horangi looked up at him, terribly flustered. He watched him bite his bottom lip, eyes trailing over König’s face.

Horangi came but König continued, wanting to make him feel as much pleasure as possible. Tears streaming down his face.

“Take it all. Just like that. Doing so good for me.”

Horangi fell apart, cock twitching as he painted his chest white. He continued to take the pleasure like König wanted, a tremor running up his spine.

“Yeobo...”

“color?”

“Green.” Horangi started to sob.

“That’s my good boy. You can give me another one.” König encouraged, currently grinding against his prostate with every movement.

Horangi nodded and held on to him as König relentlessly kept stroking him. He was so sensitive and ruined that he just lay there helplessly, taking everything König gave him as best he could.

“Perfect. Looking so good. Managing to get hard for me again. Now you need to come for me.”

“Sir, I don’t...” König almost came right there. He loved when Horangi called him sir, could tell by the soft, almost glazed look in his eye that he was gone, completely in the blissful space only König seemed to be able to put him in. “I don’t know if I can.”

“You can. I promise. You’re doing so good.”

König continued moving, careful not to thrust in, not wanting to finish yet, but to keep pressing right against his sweet spot. His hand never ceased either as he kept telling Horangi how good he was being, how close he was and beautiful he looked like this.

“My beautiful tiger.” It must’ve finally done it because Horangi came all over himself, clenching hard around his cock. He continued to sob and whimper as König finally started to move faster, fucking him properly. He didn’t stop until he came inside him, painting his insides.

Horangi trembled, overstimulation hitting fast and hard. He was a mess as König cleaned him up.

“Beautiful. Just gorgeous. All for me.”

Horangi nodded, boneless against him. His cock twitched just a little.

“Another round?”

He immediately shook his head, whimpering.

König laughed and wiped him clean before pulling a pair of his own boxers on. They were big and fell around him loosely, but they were easier to slip on. He adjusted him so he was comfier on the bed as he pulled the covers over them both.

Once Horangi was moving a little more, he made him drink some of the water and fed him the dried pineapple he had snagged. He didn’t let him pull away, keeping Horangi’s head firmly on his chest except when he sat up a little too drink.

Eventually, Horangi fell asleep, looking ethereal where he lay on him. König didn’t understand how he got so lucky.

#Call Of Duty: Modern Warfare II #Call Of Duty #Konig #König #Horangi #Körangi #König x Horangi #Horangi x König

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sansblkgirlfriend · 2 years

Text

Perfect (P.SH)

Synopsis: Seonghwa didn’t like that you were feeling down about what others were saying about you, so he had to remind you of why he chose you.

Pairing: Mafia Boss! Park Seonghwa x Reader

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Tags: Dom! Seonghwa, Sub! Reader, unprotected sex (wrap it kiddos), light degradation, pet names, slight dacryphilia.

——————————————————————————

“Ah ah, Don’t look away, baby girl, don’t look away at all…”

“I want you to see how you were made for my cock…”

A pitiful whimper could only fall from your lips as Seonghwa forced you to look into the body length mirror. The fierce Mafia boss had your legs spread wide open as you bounced on him, nothing was left unseen.

You were a mob wife, as your mother called it. You sat and looked pretty next to the big bad, Park Seonghwa, the most feared mafia leader of them all. But in reality, you’re the one doing the majority of the work behind the scenes.

You get your hands dirty interrogating spies or troublemakers, you help Seonghwa figure out what he’s wearing in the morning, get the money together, that’s basically his secretary.

But of course other people around the job thought otherwise.

“Oh she’s just the office whore!”

“Nothing special, they just waltz around because their the bosses personal fuck toy.”

“She’s nothing but an ugly fucking whore anyways.”

These comments would affect how you acted around Seonghwa and he took notice and he didn’t like it one bit.

You were HIS little doll, you were his to taunt and tease, to love on and treat like a queen and he wasn’t going to let some little expendable workers he had destroy that.

And that’s how you ended up where you were. Seonghwa having you riding him in front of the mirror. Seonghwa wanted you to see everything and wanted you to appreciate your body. He wasn’t quiet with his groans either, he was the exact opposite. His moans sounded like honey in your ears, every praise that left his lips had you tingling and clenching around him.

“Such a tight little thing, and all for me?..” He started, his thrusts meeting your bounces at a steady pace.

“All for me to fuck silly, to have turn into a babbling mess from me~” Seonghwa smirks as he looks at your face twisting and contorting in pleasure, he was intrigued by the many noises you were making.

“Go ahead, let them know who’s fucking you this good. Let the whole building know.”

“My little slut, no one else gets to tease you or call you that but me.”

You closed your eyes as you felt yourself getting closer to your orgasm, every thrust and every grip from Seonghwa’s hand had you seeing stars. But suddenly he stopped.

“Who told you to close your eyes, baby doll…”

You whimpered and opened them back up, and a cry of pleasure was ripped from your lips. Hwa had planted his feet firmly on the floor, his hips meeting against yours with a speed that took the breath out of you.

He had you locked and place and you couldn’t do anything but accept the brutal punishment he was giving you. Seonghwa held you in place and all you could do is watch in the mirror as his cock ruthlessly abused your cunt.

“You see how good your taking me huh? Nobody else could handle me like you can…such a good obedient little slut.”

You cried out in response as you felt that familiar wave of your orgasm coming on. Tears were welling up and spilling over as Seonghwa only let a few velvet chuckles bless your ears.

“Go ahead baby doll, unravel…let go..” He cooes, slowing his thrusts as you came down from your high.

He takes one of his hands and runs it along your face, wiping some tears away. “My precious little gem…” He mutters, cupping your face. “Letting those fucking low lives poison your mind…” He says softly. You look at him in the mirror with a soft grin.

Seonghwa then smirks at you.

“But that doesn’t mean that I’m going to go easy on you. You listened to them instead of me. Now you gotta face the consequences~”

#evesdrabbles #evesnightclub (18+)#ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez smut #park seonghwa #park Seonghwa x reader #Seonghwa x reader #Seonghwa smut #park Seonghwa smut

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rubydracogirl · 3 months

Text

A short, angsty one-shot.

Stanley finds a distressed Reader. He's not good with words, but he means well.

Sometimes you just need to take a drive to process things...

Rated T, just in case.

"The Scenic Route"

It happened again.

Just when you thought you were in the clear, life took you by the collar of your shirt and dragged you through the mud again. The numbness of your heart hadn’t settled in- you still felt the stabbing pain of your anguish. Tears were flowing from your eyes- you hated them, you hated crying like this, you were so ugly when it happened-

No matter how hard you tried to hold it back, they dripped down your red cheeks and slid down your neck. Your nose ran and you looked down at your trembling hands. When would the numbness settle in so you could stop feeling like this?

The thought that someone would find you hadn’t crossed your mind. Least of all that it would be him.

“There you are, toots! I’ve been looking all over for you…-” Stan’s gruff voice trailed off as he noticed how hunched over you were.

You twisted away from him, trying to apologize, trying to hide your tear-stained face but he brushed off your apologies, silently walking over to sit beside you. His warmth radiated against your body like a furnace, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. It was embarrassing enough that he’d caught you like this.

“Who made you cry?” There was an edge to his voice that spoke volumes of what he might do to the perpetrator, but you shook your head. You didn’t trust yourself to speak, and you took deep breaths, trying to get control of yourself.

It felt impossible-

The weight of Stan’s arm wrapped around you and he softly murmured, “C’mere. It’s ok. You don’t gotta talk about it if you don’t want to… But lemme hold you, doll.”

You kept your face hidden against his chest, allowing him to pull you against his warm body. He was simultaneously soft and firm; one arm kept you close while he stroked your hair with his other hand. The comfort of his touch was enough to help you regain control of your breath and you finally settled down, breathing a little easier.

“It’s just… I'm so tired.” You whispered finally, the sting of your pain still throbbing in your heart.

His fingers faltered in your hair before he tilted your face up to his. You resisted.

“Sweetheart, look at me.”

You finally turned your face up to him. His dark eyes were like warm pools of amber, and you saw your pain reflected in them. His rough palm caressed your cheek gently, wiping the bitter tears from beneath your eyes. His lips twitched with indecision before he spoke.

“You and I both know I’m no good with this sort of thing. Besides, there’s nothin’ I can say that you haven't heard a million times before already… Whatever's bothering you, I can't take it away... But I got a car. Why don't we get out of here for a while?”

You decided that, yes, you did want a ride.

“Well, then.” He stood up, taking your hand. “What the hell are we waiting for?”

You let him lead you and with every step, the pain began to lessen if ever so slightly.

The Stanleymobile roared to life and you felt a flicker of exhilaration as you settled back against the seat. Stan passed you a tissue.

“Don’t worry, it’s clean. What kind of guy do you take me for?” He chuckled at the skeptical look you sent him before accepting the offering.

The car rolled from the driveway, and the world became a slow-moving blur of sweet-smelling pine trees. Stan flicked the radio on, and the wind brushed your face and played with your hair as he took you down the winding roads of Gravity Falls.

You knew, deep down, you’d have to face your problems when the ride ended, but for now, it was just you, Stan, and the gorgeous views that were passing you by. The sun set, rendering the sky with watercolor textures of orange, pink and soft lavender.

Not one more word was spoken between you and Stan during the ride, and that was ok with you. His presence was enough to comfort you.

You leaned back, letting your eyes close as you drummed your fingers with the music, swaying with the motion of the car, and inhaling the smells of the surrounding forest.

The chill of the evening air became a bit much, and he turned to look at you.

“Ready to go back?”

“No, not really.”

He chuckled softly.

“I know where we can go.”

The Overlook wasn’t exactly a secret spot, but it was still fairly private, and as Stan parked the car, you took off your seatbelt and slid closer to him. He wrapped his arm around you again. The edges of dusk were giving away to twilight. The sight was beautiful, and for a moment, you really forgot about your pain.

In that moment, all you could feel was warmth, and you glanced up at Stan. He squeezed you a little closer, his mouth pulled in an uncertain smile.

“You’re gonna be ok, toots.” He hummed.

“I know… Thank you, Stan.” You leaned against his broad chest. He shifted slightly, and you felt his lips brush the top of your head affectionately.

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

#gravity falls #my writing #fanfic #Stanley Pines X Reader #Hurt/comfort #angst #Stan comforts Reader #Sometimes words aren't enough #sometimes you have to physically leave to process things #therapy through taking the backroads #implied established relationship between Stan and Reader #no specific reasons for Reader's distress are mentioned

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eddies-whoreee · 1 year

Text

Douchebag

Summary: Steve Harrington is a complete asshole but he has a big dick. So can you really complain.

CW: unprotected P in V, praise kink, size kink, Steve’s and asshole, manhandling, very little after care. BASED IN MODERN TIMES.

Steve wasn’t boyfriend material, he was a good fuck and that’s it. But sometimes all you need is a good fuck. A guy with a big dick who knows how to use it. That’s all he was, a walking penis. Huge penis. He was the biggest douchebag, always had a smart remark to make. It started in math class, You and Steve were paired together to work on the math sheet. He plopped down next to you. He had been trying to have sex with you since Tina’s party 3 weeks ago. Making comments at you, you were probably the only girl he hasn’t fucked in Hawkins and that’s because you hated his guts. He was so cocky, annoying, sexy. It made you infuriated.

“Hey princess” he says as he lays a hand on your thigh. You give him a look of pure confusion. You stare at him then his hands and push it off. “Work, Steve, we have to work” you tell him. “So, Tina’s having another party, wanna go with me?” He asks. You look at him and roll your eyes, his stupid dumb pretty brown eyes. “Fine! Just please work I kinda have to pass this class” you state. He lets out a victorious ‘yes!’.

Skip to the party, you wore a tight red dress that is about mid thigh length. Steve picks you up, he won’t stop commenting about how good you look some more lewd that others. He was glued to you the whole party. It was honestly so pathetic. “You look good, you would look better riding my-” he gets cut off by your laugh. “You’re so pathetic Steve, how long has this act been up, like c’mon don’t you have some other girl that actual wouldn’t hesitate to fuck you” you tell him.

“Yeah, but I want you, why won’t you fuck me. Am I ugly?” He asks. You let out another laugh. “Ugly? You’re Steve Harrington. Ugly isn’t in your vocabulary, but you are community dick, and I don’t want an STD.” You tell him. His mouth hangs open. “Okay that one hurt, I don’t fuck every girl raw and I get checked after every hook up, in fact I just got checked two days ago and I’m clean” he states. “Sure and I’m Jack the Ripper” you joke. He gets on his knees and interlocks his hands together. “Please, please, please, let me fuck you, please I’ll give you the best time, you’ll be hooked and by the time you know it we’ll be having scheduled appointments” he begs dramatically, making you giggle. “Shut up! Fine! Okay, one time” you give in. You knew you were going to fuck him either way but seeing him beg was the best thing ever.

That’s how you ended up Steve was hovering over you as you sat at the foot of his bed, tits out, naked. He had just taken out his cock. It was a monster. Your eyes widen and your mouth hangs open. “You want to put that inside of me” you say pointing at his dick. “That’s the goal” he states proudly. “There is no way that’s fitting” you tell him. He chuckles, “it’ll fit trust me just gotta get you ready” he speaks closing your mouth with his finger. “Okay…” you say nervously. “We don’t have to, I know I can be persistent with it but I don’t want to pressure you.” He tells you. “No, I’m want to, I’m ready just impale my guts and get it over with” you say. He chuckles and legit picks you up by the waist. Fuck, you forgot how strong he was. He sits down putting you to straddle him so that your entrance is hovering the tip of his dick. You whine at the feeling of him to close. “It’s okay baby, you can do it just go as slow as you need to” he coos giving your neck a wet kiss. You start to sink down on his cock. Moaning as his tip enters you. “Oh fuck! S-Steve” you whimper as you sink further down. “Doing so good, taking me so well” he praises as you hold onto him for support. “It’s t-too much” you cry out, the stretch feeling so good. “Fuck! You feel so good, hugging me so tight” Steve moans holding your hips pushing you down slightly. He fucks into you making you sink down all the way. As fast as the tears form in your eyes they fall. Steve examines your face and worry hits his face, but his cock also twitches inside you. “Are you okay do you want to stop, it’s okay-” he tries to speak but you cut him off by vigorously shaking your head ‘no’. “Nononono, please, want more!” You cry grinding your hips. He groan at the feeling. He nods, “okay baby, fuck, so fucking tight” he moans throwing his head back as he fucks into you. Making you whimper his name, “so fucking good, doing so good” he praises. “S-Steve, fuck, s-so good” you let out a broken moan, as you snuggle your head into his neck giving it soft wet kisses. With every thrust you felt a knot build up in your core, seconds away from breaking. Your body felt on fire, the sounds of Steve’s moans, along with yours, the sound of him fucking into you, it was so amazing. “Gonna cum!” You cry out clawing at Steve’s back. “Oh fuck me too, cum with me baby” he tells you. You felt his dick twitch and his thrust becoming unsteady. “Fuck baby, cum, cum all over my cock” he groans as you feel his hot seed spill into you, your orgasm crashes over you making you see white. You moan out his name as he helps you both ride out your orgasm. As you too catch your breaths, he gives your forehead a kiss. “Did so good” he pants. “Fuck” you mumble. “ ‘fuck’ is right” he agrees. He helps you lift off his cock, his cum spilling from you, “you’re on birth control right?” He asks. “Nope this was my who plan trap you with a baby” you say completely serious. His eyes widen. “Omg joking! I am, you should’ve seen your face” you burst out laughing. “Okay jokester, so funny I want to sleep so get in bed” he tells you, “bed? Im not sleeping over” you giggle, “what you’re just gonna fuck and leave?” He asks. “Yeah?” You tell him. “That’s cruel” he says. “Your not the only playa harrington” you joke.

“If you can even walk” he chuckles. “Oh I do can-” you are cut off by trying to get up but stumbling back in the bed. Steve has a smug smirk. “Oh fuck off, fine!” You groan. He chuckles throwing one of his shirts at you. “Omg your shirt, am I getting the Harrington hook up premium” you joke wiggling your eyebrows putting his shirt on. “I’m not a complete douche” he states. “Ha! Don’t get ahead of yourself” you tell him.

#steve harrington x fem #steve harrington smut #steve harrington #steve x reader #stranger things #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things smut #douchebag!steve

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nattinatalia · 1 year

Text

Jack Harlow x Reader : ME OR HER PART 2

A/N: Read part 1 here & the Instagram AU here.

Featuring the one and only @hoodharlow 💖

When you left, Jack swore you took his heart with you. It’s been three years and till this day he still thinks about you, and he wonders how you’ve been.

He tried to get you back that night, he really did. But you made it your mission to cut all ties with him the moment you left. He would ask Nicky Jam about you, but had made it clear that it wasn’t his place to say anything concerning you or your music, so Jack just stopped trying to search for you all together.

It’s like you were erased, he tried looking for you on social media but he found nothing, he thought maybe you had changed your name if you decided to continue with your music, so he wouldn’t even know how to search for you.

He’s hurt, rightfully so. He can’t believe you would just walk away from him like that, like nothing mattered. But then again, maybe he should’ve stood up to his manager and set her straight.

He still carries the box with him. He still carries you in his broken heart. Because no matter what, he truly believes you were the love of his life.

“Jack, are you even listening to me?” Neelam breaks him out of his thoughts.

He rolls his eyes “Yes, you’ve been over the plans three times already.”

“Ok so get your shit together, and please, put that thing away.” Neelam points at the box he has in his palm. “It’s been three years, either sell it or throw it away, she’s not coming back.”

Jack glares “Yea because you made it your mission to push her away.”

“I didn't do anything, she chose all on her own.”

There’s a knock on the door “She’s here.” Urban says opening the door to the conference room.

Jack stands and nods “About time, I should’ve done this a long time ago.”

“Hello Jackman, nice to see you again.” A woman’s voice says as she walks into the room.

Jack nods “Blanca, always a pleasure.”

Neelam stands to look at her then back at Jack, she rolls her eyes “I told you, another little Mexican girl, and you’re still crying about the one that got away.”

“Excuse me?”

Neelam waves her hand in a dismissive way “No need to keep a conversation with me, I’ll get you the NDA papers to sign.”

Blanca laughs “Girl you are either stupid or slow, I’m not one of his girls, pendeja. I’m here to take your place.”

Neelam looks confused “I’m sorry what?”

Blanca smiles and extends her hand towards her “Blanca Hood, not so nice to meet you. Oh by the way, you’re fired.”

She laughs “She’s joking right? Jack, tell me this little girl is joking.”

He shakes his head “No, she means that. I should’ve put an end to your crap years ago.”

“Are you seriously still mad about that? Are you really going to get rid of me over the Mexican? Just because I made a few cleaning jokes? Come on, if she wouldn’t be doing music right now, I’m pretty sure that’s what she would be doing, scrubbing toil-“ Neelam doesn’t get to finish her words because she quickly falls to the floor due to someone punching her straight across her jaw.

“You racist bitch.” Blanca says and goes to take the seat Neelam was just sitting on. “You did my girl dirty, and I applaud her for how strong she is, but she should’ve also laid your ass out. Now me? Yeah I’m not taking any form of disrespect.”

“I will press charges against you for putting your hands on me.” She yells, touching her jaw.

“Go for it, I’ll do the same.”

“I didn’t even touch you.”

Blanca smiles “We know that, but the cops won’t. Pack your stuff and get out, unless you want me to bring my dog and have him drag you by your ugly ass hair.”

Urban chokes on his drink and starts laughing “I’ll walk you out Nee.” He says and takes her out of the room.

Now it’s just Jack and Blanca, his new manager, alone in the conference room.

“I don’t know how you or Y/N put up with the disrespect.”

Jack is confused “Wait, you know Y/N?”

Blanca nods “That’s my girl, her little sister is a fan of 5SOS- my husband’s band. I met her a few years ago at one of their shows, We've been friends ever since.”

Jack nods “So she told you about me?”

“No, not really, all she said was that she ran into you once and your manager wasn’t so welcoming.”

“Hmm, we did more than run into each other.” Jack scoffs

“I put two and two, but if she signed then she really couldn’t tell me anything else right?”

He nods “yeah.” He smiles “So how is she?”

Blanca shakes her head “Nope, I’m not telling you, you can ask her yourself when you see her.”

Jack looks up at her words “What do you mean?”

“You’re both performing at next month's festival in Miami. I’m obviously going to watch her set, so I made sure you’re free during and after.”

“Does she know I’m performing there too?”

“I’m pretty sure since your name is the first one on the flier.”

“I looked at the flier, she’s not on it.” Jack says confused.

Blanca smiles “Her manager is a close friend, she managed to book her for it. Now go look at the comment I pinned under your picture.” Blanca tells him as she tosses her phone into her bag and gets up from her seat.

“What? How? I’ve looked for her on social media and ended up with nothing.” Jack says surprised.

“She has a burner account, one which I’m pretty sure she has you and your entire team blocked. She just made that one, so enjoy it. I have to go check on some stuff with Chris, so you do whatever it is broken boys do.”

Blanca heads out the door and not even seconds pass by and Urban is storming into the room “Did you see? Y/N commented under your post.”

Jack nods but is frozen, he can’t believe he’s staring at you even if it’s through a screen.

You barely have any pictures up so he doesn’t know if you’re married or with kids. For all he knows, you’re probably living a married life with the white picket fence.

“She did it.” Jack says proudly, looking at the most recent video you had posted of a performance.

But he can’t help but feel somewhat bitter.

He wished he was there besides you. He wishes he was there cheering you on just like you used to do numerous times for him.

“Well what are you waiting for? You’ve been searching for her non stop, you got your opening. Reach out.” Urban tells him.

“Blanca said we’re both going to attend the festival next month in Miami, I think i’ll just wait until then.”

“What? Are you crazy? You’ve been missing her since she left and you’re going to wait a month to talk to her?”

“I don’t know what to say, my feelings are mixed. I’m happy I got to see a glimpse of what she’s doing but I’m still hurt she left like that. She blocked all of us, she blocked me, she erased me from her life. I’m just supposed to reach out and be happy about that.”

Urban rolls his eyes “So do all that, get mad at her, talk it out with her. But dude come on, she’s finally reaching out because she commented under your picture.”

Jack shrugs, “I just need to get all my thoughts together before I talk to her, get my feelings in order.”

“You’re an idiot, meanwhile I’ll reach out because I missed my wing woman” his best friend tells him and walks out the room.

This was something Jack has been waiting for for sometime now.

He should be happy to finally see what you've been doing. Yes, he’s happy that your music career is up and going but he feels bitter, he should’ve been there alongside you through it all.

He wonders if you struggled, if you felt any type of regret with the decision you took all those years ago.

Do you miss him like he missed you?

Do you still love him like he loves you?

All different thoughts and feelings were being brought up all at once and he doesn’t know what to do.

But he’ll have to figure something out soon because just then a direct message from you comes in and has him freezing up.

Y/N : Hey superstar ⭐️ long time no talk, how are you?

•

TAG LIST

@heavyhitterheaux

@harlowsbby

@arination99

@cmalass

@jackharloww

@minkookie95

@deannaard

@jacksmoviestar

@harlowcomehome

@fdl305

@httpkoylinnn

@xoxokiaraaxoxo

@hoodharlow

@automaticpeachsong

@amethyst09

@aliciacat20

@allyson15

@peakascum

#jack harlow #jack harlow x yn #jack harlow fanfiction #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow x reader #come home the kids miss you

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ch4p3lofbl00d · 6 months

Text

Nightmares~Ricky Olson

Trigger warning for mentions of abuse and panic attack ⚠️

Y/N Pov:

Nightmare|

I backed away into the corner as my ex came closer to me. He raised his hand, slapping me across the face as I tried to hold back tears. I touched my cheek to see blood dripping down my face at how hard he had slapped me.

Next thing, I knew; he took out his pocket knife and cut my arm open, while pushing me against the wall, yelling "you worthless piece of shit" "you worthless, ugly, disgusting, whore" "you deserve nothing" "you selfish little slut"

He continued doing this, until he grabbed my wrist, dragging me into a closet and locking me in there "there you go bitch. Stay in there and think about what you have done. Worthless bitch"

I hid in the corner of the closet, crying in my hands as I shaked. Next thing, I knew, I couldn't feel anything and I passed out.

End of nightmare|

I woke up in a cold sweat with tears running down my face as I tried to breathe again. I quietly rocked myself back in forth, trying not to wake up, my boyfriend, Ricky, who was sleeping right next to me.

After awhile, I still couldn't calm down and I felt like I was suffocating. I couldn't breathe normally and I felt trapped. My breathes quickened as I sobbed harder; I was shaking violently as I felt being pulled into someone's arms.

Ricky Pov:

I held Y/N as I tried to calm her down from her nightmare. This has been happening a lot recently. Y/N has been having nightmares about her abusive ex and she ended up having panic attacks everynight die to it.

I hated seeing her like it. My girl being heartbroken; it made me want to beat the shit out of her ex. The man who did this to her and caused her so much trauma.

I sighed as I kissed Y/N'S head; she didn't deserve this. She was too sweet to be treated like this. Why would anyone think of doing something like that to such a beautiful girl?

My thoughts got interrupted by hearing a sad, yet soft voice say "Ricky?" I looked down at my arms to see my girl's year stained face. I moved some of her hair out of her face as I said "yes, love?" I saw more tears fall down her face, but I wiped them away as quickly as they fell. "I'm sorry for waking you up... I didn't mean to.. I'm so sorry"

As she said that, it made me feel horrible; I didn't care if she woke me up or not, all I care about if she's safe. I kissed her head as I wiped more tears falling down her face. "Love, you don't need to apologize. I'll wake up anytime you need me. All I want is for my girl to be safe, okay? Because you are safe with me and I love everything about you, my love"

I heard my sweet girl start sobbing again, so I pulled her closer to me as I ruined her back "let it all out, baby" I kissed her head again and heard slow breathing coming from Y/N. I smiled as I realized that she has fallen asleep.

I laid down with Y/N still in my arms. I kissed her cheek and whispered "goodnight, love. Sleep well" I laid her head in my chest, and slowly fell back to sleep with my favorite girl in my arms.

Thank you for reading <3 🖤

#fanfiction #fanfic #emo #motionless in white #motionless in white imagine #ricky horror #ricky olson #2000s emo #gothic romance #gothic metal #goth #fluff #emo fanfic #motionless in white fan fiction #motionless in white fanfic #ricky olson imagine #ricky horror olson

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extremelyblackandwhite · 1 year

Text

the price of power - 04

pairing: mob boss!sebastian stan x wife!reader

part of handmaid | masterlist

warnings: swearing, mentions of organised crime and violence, arguments

There were many things about Y/N that made Sebastian fall in love with her over and over again. Waking up next to her, witnessing her eyelashes flutter and her chest rise up and down in a slow lull was one of those things. Nothing else really mattered to him when he got to wake up next to her, it was always a reminder that she was real, that she hadn’t quit, that she loved him. The mere vision of her made him fall in love with her but the fact she loved him and had stayed despite everything - that had his heart beating faster. She stirred in her sleep, her fists loosening on the duvet that stood on top of them. God, she was gorgeous, he thought to himself.

- Stop staring at me, you weirdo. - she mumbled, eyes still closed. It was a habit of his, a habit which she had caught on. - Go to sleep.

- How can I go to sleep when there’s a goddess in my bed? What have you done to my wife?

She attempted to hide her smile, wanting him to go back to sleep and rest. The past days had been difficult, scratch that, the past days had been hell on earth for both of them. He remembered being young, being raised and molded to become the man his father wanted him to be, learning how to run a business and how to protect and continue a legacy built by those before him. However, he had not learned how to handle this situation. How could he? In his eyes, her father was willingly throwing his daughter to the wolves with little to no care about what they could do to her. It was reckless, specially when a man like Michael Forrest and by extent his son Daniel knew what came with the job. It wasn’t as glamorous as others wanted to portray it, at least not when you sit at the top of the power pyramid. He could no longer sleep, not when all he could think about was how he was lying to her - telling her it would be fine, when he knew deep down it wasn’t. She had noticed it and all she’d been trying to do when she wasn’t settled in between arrangements for her father’s business and the needs of her infant son, was to have him rest but Sebastian couldn’t rest. All he could do is go through his contacts, wondering who and what could be a threat to her new place and their family.

- You’ll be tired. - she opened her eyes slowly, her hand resting upon his warm cheek. - Just go to sleep, darling. I’ll be here.

- I know. - he mumbled, voice still haunted by sleep. - I just want to look at you for a bit longer.

- You can look at me when you wake up. - she cuddled closer to her husband, staring at the wedding band on his finger as his hand settled on top of her hip. - Please.

- I'm resting, I just have my eyes open. - he kissed the top of her head. - I’m always resting when you’re laid by my side.

- Sweet nothings won’t get you anything.

He just mumbled in agreement, holding her close to him as if she was going to disappear. He didn’t like this world, at least not if she was involved. It was a ugly and vicious game who could easily take a person out as if they’d never even existed and he couldn’t even think of what it could do to her without making his heart stop. He just wanted to make moments like these last, moments were it was just the two of them, bathed in the early morning sunlight. Besides, he’d rather make the morning longer as once the end of the day hit, they’d have to go to her father’s house for an introductory dinner - one of her father’s associates’ idea as to introduce her to the wolves.

- Nate’s quiet. - Y/N looked over her husband’s shoulder at the crib by the side of the bed. - We’re getting lucky, huh?

- He can’t cry forever. - he groaned, thinking of the past months where all the young infant could do was cry. - But we best not talk a lot about it before he starts crying.

- That means he’s growing out his newborn stage. - she frowned. - I thought we’d made a deal he would stay little forever.

- No worries, angel. We can have another one. - he kissed under her jaw, smirking against her skin. - We can have as many babies as you want.

- Not until our baby is past being a baby. - she pushed him away. - If we’d have it your way, I’d be pregnant all year long.

- Nothing wrong with enjoying the world knowing you’re my woman.

- I took your last name, Mr.

- Yes only for everyone in your dad’s circle to call you Mrs. Forrester. Can’t wait for tonight when we get announced as Mrs. Forrester and Mr. Stan, the favourite daughter and the deadbeat husband.

- It’ll be fine tonight, right? - he wasn’t sure if she was asking for reassurance or if she was trying to reassure herself. Either way, he could only hold her closer to him. - You’ll be by my side?

- Of course, angel.

(...)

He had forgotten just how hard it was to leave their son with someone else. They weren’t used to leaving their baby alone, much less with a sitter, even if it was Daniel’s wife. Y/N appeared to trust her enough to worry only to 70% of her full capacity, yet Sebastian throughly disliked the idea of any Forrester that wasn’t his wife spending alone time with their son. After all, her family did not have the best track record with babies; yet again, he couldn’t say his family did. Instead, he just sat on the ground, by the many, many toys that were scattered around his infant son.

- You tell me, bud ... - he mumbled to his son. - You tell me if she’s untrustworthy.

Nate merely cooed looking up at his dad with a silly smile before biting onto one of his many plushies. He’d much rather spend the night in, watching his son destroy and go through all the toys on the floor before deciding to find interest in the most random household item. It sounded much better than the tango dance that were associate dinners. Yet again, he guessed he could scope out the situation and better protect Nate and Y/N if he went. Besides, he’d rather put up with a boring dinner than let Y/N walk into the wolf den all by herself.

- I’m trustworthy. - Adelaide rolled her eyes at her brother-in-law. - I have a kid myself, remember?

- Don’t fight. - Sebastian heard Y/N’s voice echo from upstairs as she came down.

He swore that woman had a talent to knock the air from his lungs no matter how long he saw her. She looked beautiful, breath stunningly beautiful and that was still an understatement. He recognised that dress, they’d bought it during their honeymoon in Italy, a long black Prada dress which reached mid way past her knees. It was simple and it just suited her so beautifully he found himself jealous of other people seeing it. On her ears rested the earrings he’d given her a few months ago, nothing impressive or she wouldn’t wear them - just simple gold drop earrings.

- You know where the bottles are? - she asked Adelaide. - There’s some milk frozen as well if he gets hungry. If he gets si ...

- He’ll be fine. - she interrupted the concerned mother. - I’ve raised a child to the age of seven, I’m sure I can do well with Nate. You go and enjoy yourself.

- It’s okay, angel. We have security cameras everywhere. - he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close. - If Adelaide screws up, we’ll know.

She still worried even as she sat in the car and in the middle of her worry about her baby son, she didn’t find the time to worry about the dinner she was going to chair until she saw the house she’d grown up in the distance. This was big and this was important. Her father had told her it was important to give the best impression to all associates, to show them she could lead, she could be strong. She wished she could easily lie about all those but based on the first meeting she’d chaired, she doubted she’d make much of an impression. The whole meeting had been a constant critic on her and her character or her husband and how his way of ruling did not line up with the way they wanted things done. No one really wanted her there and no one wanted Sebastian to be anything but another mob boss, they wanted him far from business.

- The De Lucas like you. - he held her hand as the car came to a stand still in front of the big illuminated home. - They think you could bring in new clients.

- I don’t know the De Lucas.

- They mostly work with me but they’ve dealt in some Vegas’ casinos with your dad back when your mum was around. You have their support.

- Just not my dad’s associates. - she pursed her lips in a tight line. - You’ll be by my side, right?

- Of course, angel.

Her childhood home felt foreign. She’d spent her first 18 years here, she knew every hall, every door and every window like the back of her hand and as she walked through the front door it felt foreign. It was filled with people and waiters carrying different silver trays of food she didn’t want to touch. Her grip tightened around her husband’s hand, thinking of trying to slip in something dirty into his ear that would convince him to go back into the car and the closest motel. Yet, before she could even ask him, they were already being pulled apart. She looked at him with willing eyes, begging him to return but he was already far gone and she was being roped into conversations she didn’t want to have. The first hour was spent like that, being thrown around like a rag doll and introduced like a novelty as she wiped on flute after flute of champagne until the waiters eventually started serving her elderflower water.

- All I’m saying Mrs. Forrester is that we don’t have as much pull in Long Island as we do in Vegas. - Rosso, she guessed, followed her as she attempted to leave the crowd and find her husband.

- We need to strengthen Vegas before we think of Long Island.

- Other families have links in Long Island. Your husband has strong ties there, not only in casinos but banks, hotels, real estate.

- We deal in casinos, Mr. - she smiled politely. - Besides, this dinner is no time for business discussions.

- Well, have you considered how pregnancy will affect your run replacing your father?

- My pregnancy? I’m not pregnant, I’ve just had a baby 6 months ago. Perhaps you weren’t aware.

- I know you have a son, Mrs. Forrester, but you need to have a least two. One to helm your family and the other one for your husband’s.

- Will you excuse me?

She looked around trying to find her husband, she just wanted to find Sebastian. She moved through all those people in the living room and the foyer trying to find him, hoping he’d be as miserable as she was. Instead, there he was, in the middle of everyone yet in control. He looked every bit as magnetic, charismatic and electric as people described him before they met. He was almost a different person to that one who’d she’d awaken up next to this morning. She wondered if he kept it hidden for her, if he kept how irresistible he was when she was with her. Everyone was looking at him, every woman was lusting over him and every man wanted to talk to him. She found herself wondering if she’d stopped him from fully being who he was. She wondered if he was torn between being the good man he thought she deserved and enjoying all the opportunities available to a man like him. In that moment, she understood why everyone spoke his name like it was law, why everyone was so afraid yet respected him - his stature demanded it. The trouble was, here she was, his wife, watching it as if she was behind a glass window and as that thought settled into her mind, tears welled up in the corner of her eyes.

Fuck, there it was. She was not him, she was not her father, she was a cry baby finding herself running to the bathroom to cry about it. Her hands gripped the tile as she looked at herself with disdain in the mirror. Gwen would’ve known how to handle this - the snide remarks, the expectations, yet all she knew was how to hide. Was she the right choice to represent the family? And on that vein, was she even the right woman to be the wife of a man as magnetic as Sebastian?

- Are you ok? - a woman became clear behind her reflection. She looked composed, like the kind of woman Y/N was trying to be. Red hair perfectly curled and brushed behind her ear, in a tailored scarlet dress and diamond jewellery.

- Overwhelmed. - she mumbled, turning around before smiling. She could always smile, even if inside she was screaming.

- These functions are always overwhelming. - she offered her a kind smile followed by a few tissues. - I’m Alice and you’re the Forrester girl.

- Am I that recognisable?

- I used to attend some meetings back when Gwen was the Forrester girl. My father’s is Mark Rosso, he was buggering you all night about Long Island.

- Oh yeah, that.

- If you want my opinion, I think you’re doing great. It’s never good to cause any waves when you’re first starting, specially when you’re married to who you’re married.

- He’s something else, isn’t he?

- Different worlds. We do things differently here and they work. If you want, you can stay here and cry about it or you can go outside and politely tell them to fuck off.

- How do you even tell that to someone politely?

- Usually a polite smile and ignoring them will do the trick. - she shrugged, before opening the bathroom door. - If you’d let me, I’d love to take you to lunch. I’ll pay. After all, my dad is trying to get you pregnant again.

- You’d do that?

- We girls have to stick together.

(...)

The morning rose like a bad memory. Her dreams had been nightmares and she had been so tired, she had gone to bed in her dress which she now found herself tangled in. She turned around in the sheets, extending her hand to feel her husband’s but was instead met with cold cotton. She opened her eyes, raising her torso and looking around. Everything was the same and everything should be comforting to her, but her husband was missing. Turning to the left she found a post it note next to a single red rose and some aspirin. Grumblingly, she unfolded the note to find a quickly scribbled ‘Had to go to a meeting. Be back before you know it’. She guessed it hadn’t gone to plan.

- Dad’s an early bee. - she whispered quietly as she got up to find her son who was peacefully sleeping in his crib. - I’ll let you be, Nate.

She was trying to be positive about things yet all she could think about was how things had gone downhill. The dinner itself was awful with belittling comments and when they weren’t belittling her it was back to the topic of who was going to be her heir as if her dad was dead. Meanwhile Sebastian just charmed everyone easily, talking business as if it was his first language - looking back on it, it was. Even as she got off her dress and into loungewear, she still felt terrible. Maybe some food was gonna cheer her up.

- You have nothing in the fridge. - the sound of a voice in her kitchen had her almost dropping a bowl. - Really, Y/N. You’re rich, you know you can actually get someone to buy you food,right?

- Gwen. - she smiled, putting the bowl on the counter before running to hug her. - You’re here!

- I was here last night at your dinner but I couldn’t find you. Are they gate keeping you now that you’re the big boss?

- It was awful. - she confessed. - They spent the whole night going on and on about business and about babies and about Sebastian.

- Rosso?

- Rosso. - she nodded. - How are you? When did you get in? Where are you staying? You know you can stay with us.

- I’d rather not fraternise with your husband and be in the house with a crying baby.

- He doesn’t cry as much anymore, Gwen.

- I know he’s my godson and I love him, but he yells very loudly and while I support your decision to procreate with the devil, I don’t particularly enjoy loud screaming when I’m trying to sleep.

- I see. - she smiled. - Christian with you?

- He’s outside. Told him Sebastian might be in and he didn’t want to deal with it. How’s dad? I went to see him and he was pretending to be fine. I guess as the newly adopted child, I don’t get to know the news.

- Well ... - she took a seat. - The nurses are trying their best to ensure that he takes it easy but you know dad. He doesn’t.

- What about you? Are you taking it easy? I mean, it hasn’t even been a year since you got married and you’re ... you’re the boss.

- It’s only temporary ... for dad, you know? I’m sure when the time comes I’ll know what to do. Besides, I met this girl at the dinner who’s taking me to lunch, giving me some pointers.

- Oh, nice, who?

- Alice Rosso. - Gwen rolled her eyes at the mention of the name. - She said she knew you.

- Oh she did. - she said sarcastically. - Dad used to like me hanging around her because she was older and Mark’s daughter. Hated her.

- Why is that?

- She’s not my type of person. Actually, I’m surprised she’s your type of person.

- What is that supposed to mean?

- Well, for starters, she used to sleep with your husband.

////////////////////////

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#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x y/N #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan imagine #mob boss!sebastian stan #mob!sebastian stan

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panicked-herb · 1 month

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Critique of Fionna and Cake’s Season Finale

It’s been a good couple months since the Fionna and Cake series finale came out. At first it felt lackluster to me, then it felt extremely disappointing, then gradually I felt more and more meh about it. I could see what they were trying to do, but it kept bothering me how bad the finale was in comparison to the earlier episodes.

Now I finally have time to write out my thoughts about it and make it everyone else's problem.

Important note before I start: All of this is just my opinions on a TV-14 show. If you disagree, that’s great and I’d be interested to hear why. Just please be respectful.

What I Liked

The animation and visual storytelling was great. I liked that at the bus stop, they initially had Simon place Betty on the step below him, but later had him place her next to him. Too bad the writing doesn’t back this up (more on that later).

The voice acting was good. This isn’t my forte, so no comments besides that.

Most of the jokes landed for me. Especially Pawn Swan. He was easily the best part of Cheers for me.

I loved the Lich speech to Glob

Blue Shift is such a feel good song it almost made me like the ending.

What I Didn't Like

Catharsis

My second biggest issue with these episodes is how little catharsis there was. We got to see Fionna get upset and cry, but that was mostly because the Scarab was kicking everybody's ass. I wished we got to see Cake get upset about how people don’t see her for who she is. Or potentially exploring her fears of going back to being a normal cat.

I especially wished we got to see Simon ugly cry. This man has been through an apocalypse, lost his sanity, lost the love of his life, been depressed for years, and is now trying to curse himself. Dude literally said he missed being the Ice King because he was so out of it most of the time he didn’t realize how messed up his life was. He felt like almost everybody preferred him when he was cursed. Then he finally sees GolBetty after years of searching for a way to cure her, only to fail. There should have been some waterworks going on.

Pacing

Generally, the pacing felt too slow for me. It made the episodes feel more like a second or third draft vs a finale result. The biggest offender to me was all the fights against the Scarab. Each individual battle was fine, but there were too many of them. We know the Scarab isn’t going to destroy their world in the end, so all the fights don’t do much besides look cool. Which would be fine, if they weren’t trying to make it emotionally impactful.

This is relatively minor, but it bothers me that Casper and Nova are mostly in the episode Cheers when in basically all of the other episodes, the titular character(s) are the main focus for that episode. I think this could have been fixed, if they just cut back on the number of times they fight the Scarab.

Pay Off

There were a lot of Chekov’s guns that either didn’t get fired or turned out to have only blanks (basically you could remove them from the story and it wouldn’t affect the plot much).

No Pay Off

Simon and Marceline’s phone call/ relationship: I know I wasn’t the only one hoping to see these two reunite after Simon tried to curse himself again.

Dirt beet guys manuscript: This is minor, but I just feel like it would have been easy to fix.

The time core: This is a classic case of Adventure Time world building, where they introduce a cool concept, but don’t do much with it. I don’t know what I wished they did with it. But I would have liked for them to do something.

Disappointing Pay Off

Cosmic entities that the Scarab imprisoned: Cake lets them go and they fight the Scarab. But that fight lasts for like a minute. We also see Kheirosiphon in the ending credits. But besides that, we don’t see much else.

Everything in You song: The song is only used as a segway into the final flash back of Simon’s and Betty’s relationship. I’ll give it credit, the song is good and the scene is cute. However, you could remove it and there would be almost no effect. Considering Glob’s weakness is harmony (music), I really thought they were going to do something with it.

Fionna’s top fantasy: Throughout the series, Fionna makes references to her dream fantasies (EX: castle made out of candy). We learn what her top fantasy is after their universe already becomes canon and they’re in their final (unnecessary) fight against the Scarab. Her top fantasy turns out to be turning into a giant woman. Ignoring the Totally Spies vibes that scene gives me, I think they really missed an opportunity to make this really sweet. In the final scene, instead of Fionna saying “Just a normal world.” She could have said something along the lines of, “This is my top fantasy”

Fionna and Cake turning things normal in other universes: Ignoring the Winter King, this plot point does almost nothing. Sure, Cake accidentally turns BMO into an alarm clock, but BMO was already dead. There’s also the Scarab’s speech, “All the worlds you've visited, all the people you've infected. Your little trip must have shown you the truth. It would be better for everyone if you were just gone.” But they themselves don’t ruin that many worlds. The only reason for them seriously thinking that is the Winter King. But he was a grade A asshole and removing his magic freed Princess Bubblegum from the madness he imposed on her.

Casper and Nova

Before I start this section, there are two important things for me to mention

I should note that I've had over ten years to theorize about Simon and Betty. Naturally, I’ve probably forgotten some of my head cannons and character interpretations aren’t actually canon. Especially since we never really got much screen time for the two before Fionna and Cake. It also doesn’t help that Simon/ Ice King’s character arc hits close to home for personal reasons I’m not sharing in a tumblr post. But, it does mean that I’ve probably projected some of my feelings onto those characters at some point.

I’ve never particularly liked how Betty’s been written. I wished she got more screen time in the original show and I STRONGLY dislike that they introduced the fact that she didn’t go on an expectation she was really excited about for a man she’s known for one day in one of the final episodes of the show. To me, it turned her character from an impulsive, headstrong woman who for all intents and purposes is stuck on an alien planet and the only person she knows who is still alive has magical dementia to a fucking manic pixie dream girl. She doesn’t need to have always been completely obsessed with Simon to explain why she’s going to desperate measures to save him. Once again, he’s the only person she knows in Ooo, but as the Ice King he’s basically a stranger. She also convinced him to give up his only chance to die as himself with the hope that she could save him. Finally, she loves him and doesn’t want him to suffer.

Casper and Nova are pretty explicitly supposed to be narrative parallels to Simon and Betty and help show Simon the issues in their relationship. A lot of defense I’ve seen against criticism about this part of the story comes from a place of assuming the fandom is owo-ing the male character and doesn’t want to admit he has flaws. To be fair, it is a reasonable knee jerk reaction to have. Fandom has a LONG history of doing shit like this and villainizing women. But, at least in my case, this isn’t what's happening.

Casper and Nova aren’t on equal footing because Nova keeps making unseen sacrifices for Casper and they always do things Caspers way. The moral that Simon is supposed to take from them is that he/ Casper should have realized how much Betty/ Nova was sacrificing for him all the time, stopped, and supported her. However, this isn’t the main issue Simon and Betty have.

There are a total of two times where Simon does kind of stand to the side while Betty sacrifices herself:

The first trip planned to study petroglyphs in Australia: Simon jokingly offers Betty to go on his expedition with him. She accepts, which surprises him, and mentions offhandedly that she had another trip planned. Maybe he could have told her she could always go on another trip with him sometime else. But he could have just as easily assumed she wasn’t really interested in her original plan and if he asked if she was sure, it could come off as him telling her not to go.

The second trip planned to study petroglyphs in Australia: Simon stops Betty before she leaves for the bus and in the heat of the moment he says he always wants her by his side always. Betty still could have easily just given him his number and still go on her trip or they just agree to meet up later. Also, the show makes a point that Simon should have gone on the trip with her. I would like to note that Betty was planning to leave the day Simon realizes she has feelings for him. I don’t know how archeological expeditions exactly work, but joining so last second seems really rude to me. Also, he would have either needed to pack really quickly or bring nothing with him for a six month long trip. To add on, he won’t know what type of funding that trip was. For all he knew, it only had funds to send Betty over.

More often than not, we actually see Simon recognizing the sacrifices Betty is making and actively trying to stop her:

Betty time traveling into the future and away from basically everything she knows: Simon originally time travel calls her to apologize and tell her that he forgives her for leaving him as a way to allow her to move on. Betty chooses to jump through the portal.

Dedicating herself to save him: Simon literally begged Betty to let him die rather than turning back into the Ice King. He only changes his mind after she begs him to give her a chance to save him. Everything she does afterwards, he’s either basically passed out or is cursed.

Merging with Glob: Simon begged Betty to forget the crown and escape Golb with him and Finn. Betty pushed him out of there and merged with Golb. Simon spent years trying to find a way to unfuse her with Golb.

Not getting any acknowledgement for helping to find the Enchiridion: Simon wanted both of them to get credit. Betty told him that she wanted him to get all the credit. He awkwardly, but professionally, told her that she deserves the credit just as much as he does. She still turns down any acknowledgement. (I really don’t like this story beat because it could have been such a good chance to comment on how academia often discredits or ignores women)

We also have moments where they do things Betty’s way (or at the very least Betty does things her way) on their expedition together.

When crossing the river: Simon carefully walks across the rocks. Betty takes her shoes off and just walks through the river. Simon follows suit then slips and falls. I would just like to add that crossing a river without shoes on isn’t safe. It decreases trackson and increases your risk of cutting yourself in an open body of water. They should have just either dealt with the wet socks, brought a spare pair, or use water proof shoes.

When crossing an area full of snakes: Simon advises Betty to stick with the tried and true method for dealing with snakes. Betty decides to do the trick her mom taught her and runs through the area screaming. Simon doesn’t stop her. Instead once he sees that it’s working, he smiles.

As we see, with the exception of two instances (which could easily be changed without impacting the plot too much), Simon doesn’t need to learn the lesson that he should have supported Betty more and stopped her from sacrificing herself so much.

I think the bigger issue in Simon and Betty’s relationship is just how obsessed they are with each other. When the crown drives Simon insane and takes all his memories, the last thing Simon can remember is that he wants to marry his Princess. This leads him to literally kidnapping princesses. Betty time traveled 1000 years into the future after hearing Simon say he never saw her again after wearing the crown. In the process of trying to save him, she went mad herself. They’ve both spent years trying to save the other from and were willing to sacrifice themselves to do so (I’m fully convinced Simon didn’t have a plan for how to leave Golb’s dimension. I think the dude was just going to apologize to Betty then die).

Not Part of the Finale, But Still Bothers Me

Having Prismo be the one to actually write Fionna and Cake removes depth from Simon/ Ice King’s character. I liked how surprisingly good Fionna and Cake was and interpreted that as parts of Simon shining through. But they needed to have Fionna and Cake actually be real for the show, so they had Prismo make them. Instead of Prismo making them out of boredom, I think it would have been cool if he made them as a way to grieve Jake. Maybe after Jake died, Prismo turned to reading Fionna and Cake since his favorite person liked it and Cake’s basically a genderbent Jake. But, after reading everything the Ice King wrote he wanted more. Since he lives in the TIME ROOM, I don’t think it would be a stretch to allow him to interact with the timeline in weird ways (in fact I think we already saw this in the episode Is That You?). So, as a temporary solution Prismo made Fionna and Cake real and stores their universe in the Ice King’s head so he could get more stories out of them. Prismo meant to delete their world before the Ice King turned back into Simon, but he didn’t have the heart to. Also, they could have totally had Simon keep writing Fionna and Cake fanfiction like how he sometimes dresses up as Ice King. Except, this time, he writes them in his own modern day AU as a way to cope with how out of place he feels.

Not part of this spin off, but it’s always irked me that Simon got to time travel to the past, but Betty didn’t. I get that Betty wanted to intentionally create a time paradox. But it still feels really hypocritical. Honestly, I think they should have just made Simon accidentally freeze her when he first puts on the crown. After Frost and Fire, when the Ice Kingdom got melted, have her thaw out and start researching ways to cure Simon. Then, during the episode she’s supposed to debut in, have her be the cause of Bella Noche.

Conclusion

The finale had cool concepts, but it doesn't fully match up with everything that came before it.

#adventure time #adventure time critique #Fionna and cake #Fionna and Cake critique #fionna campbell #cake the cat #simon petrikov #betty grof #mine

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